THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
" 
 
 
 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
THE 
 
 WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ' PA RAD I OS,' 
 
 FORMERLY HEAD OF THE NON-FOUNDATIONERS, AND CAPTAIN OF FOOTBALL, 
 
 AT ONE OF THE CHIEF PUBLIC SCHOOLS J AND SCHOLAR OF HIS COLLEGE, 
 
 AND FIRST CLASS, CLASSICS, IN MODERATIONS, AT OXFORD. 
 
 <Seomb (BMtimt. 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 
 
 8 CATHERINE STREET, STRAND, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 1883. 
 [All ftights reserved.] 
 
COLSTON AND SON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 AFRICA'S ' Monarch of Mountains,' 
 Gambaragara, whose brow oft 
 flashes with ' a diadem of snow/ 
 shelters in its upper heights the remnant of 
 a white race that once owned wide dominion, 
 and gave dynasties to many of the neighbour- 
 ing states, but whose origin is veiled in 
 mystery. In their modes of thought, from 
 the climate, doubtless, and character of their 
 country and it may be, possibly, from their 
 origin also they resemble Europeans ; and 
 
 M316789 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 the resemblance of feature is still more 
 striking their long brown or auburn hair, 
 well-shaped nose, and thin lips, as well as 
 their complexion, contrasting most strangely 
 with the ordinary black African type. They 
 are both symmetrical and handsome, and 
 some of the women are exceedingly beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 In former days the royal family and 
 chiefs had considerable culture ; and even 
 now the race is specially celebrated for 
 one branch of knowledge, in which, among 
 many others, their forefathers excelled all 
 the races round them the art and science 
 of medicine. 
 
 They were formerly possessed of a few 
 horses (how or whence introduced it is im- 
 possible now to ascertain), and were able to 
 preserve them from malaria, and also from 
 the * Tsetse,' or blood-fly, owing to the 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 climate's coolness and the comparative 
 absence of swamps. 
 
 Some generations ago, when their power 
 and civilisation were at the highest, their then 
 king learnt to read Coptic, or Arabic (for 
 tradition has left this point in some uncer- 
 tainty), from an aged chief who had wandered 
 away from his native land and ended his 
 days among the white tribe. And the book 
 that he had brought with him was a copy 
 of the Scriptures. 
 
 After a while there came vague rumours 
 of a white teacher who had landed on the 
 sea-coast, and the king, when he heard these, 
 resolved to brave all the dangers of the long 
 and unknown journey, and went forth alone 
 to find him. 
 
 Very many and great were his hardships 
 and perils ; but at last to his joy he suc- 
 ceeded in the search. Questions on both 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 sides had been asked and answered ; state- 
 ments and expostulations had ensued ; and 
 then the missionary addressed him, in 
 effect, as follows. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 The Metre, except in the Lyric parts, consists of four 
 Anapaests, varied occasionally by a Spondee in the first 
 foot. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS 
 
 . The Introduction should be read through before 
 the Poem.] 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 To the King of the White Africans, the missionary proclaims 
 the alternative Wife or Heaven. Which then, for the love 
 of Heaven, is to be cast out forsaken and dishonoured? The 
 Queen ; or Isa, whom the King (as he himself describes) had 
 once snatched from the death-stroke, and whom he had 
 sworn to protect ever, and cherish, even as he had sworn to 
 cherish and protect the Queen. His decision is made. 
 
 " CHOOSE thou Hell, pang and terror of Hell, and 
 
 thy wife ; 
 
 Or the gift of God, rapturous, limitless life ! 
 For the worm is their doom, and the ravening fire, 
 Who cleave unto children, wife, mother, or sire, 
 
 A 
 
2 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And for these slight, and spurn, yea, anew crucify 
 Christ the Lord. Rather lop the hand, pluck out 
 
 the eye ; 
 Pluck, if need be, thine heart out : such pain heralds 
 
 bliss : 
 
 But ponder God's fury, damnation's abyss, 
 Hopeless horror. Heat's torment thou knowest, 
 
 full well ; 
 Yet the fire-blasts of earth would blow cool amidst 
 
 Hell! 
 Thou hast seen man's dead body flung out to 
 
 decay, 
 
 By the worm and the reptile's tooth eaten away. 
 Didst thou shudder? Why shudder? Those 
 
 limbs feel no throe ; 
 
 Neither anguish nor horror the carcases know. 
 But in Hell wouldst Thou lie, stark and loathly as 
 
 they? 
 While the foul shifting worm-clusters batten, and 
 
 play, 
 Within Thee and through Thee ; thy Selfs life, 
 
 thy Soul, 
 
 Ever knowing, and seeing, and feeling the whole, 
 Being one with that carrion aye unto aye I 
 Well mayest thou shudder ! Then put her away ! " 
 
II IK WHITE AFRICANS. 3 
 
 Dumb in pain, and in wrath, and a strange 
 
 won d 'ring woe, 
 
 Stood the monarch. No terror of earth, nor death- 
 throe, 
 
 Could have shaken his soul thus ; but infinity 
 Of corruption, and life knit to death-agony, 
 Smote, and cowed him, and left him a moment 
 
 untrue : 
 
 Then he started, and wildly his heart's cry outflew : 
 " O pitiless Priest of a terrible God, 
 Trampling hearts as the river-horse tramples the 
 
 sod, 
 
 Is torture's wail praise ? From a land far away, 
 Soul-weary, in peril of death day by day, 
 I have sought thee ; His blessing to crave, and 
 
 His sign, 
 
 And to tell thee the hopes of my people were mine ; 
 For I deem'd your God Champion of love and of 
 
 truth, 
 
 Oppression's avenger, Rewarder of ruth : 
 Thus His word ; and methought, ' The Priest's 
 
 voice is the same.' 
 
 And now, lo ! thou criest to me in His name, 
 " Cleave the true trusting heart with a dastardly 
 
 blow, 
 Or thine are Hell's measureless ages of woe ; - 
 
4 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Do a coward's, a traitor's, a perjurer's deed, 
 And thine are Heaven's raptures, the Christian's 
 meed!" 
 
 Should I cast back my Consort, disgraced, on her 
 
 kin, 
 
 And tell them the New God rejects her as sin ? 
 My honour'd, my loved one, would die in her shame, 
 And her soul be flung forth to the worm and the 
 
 flame 
 
 (Her soul if not mine) ; for thy Saviour-God's name 
 Would ring as the cry of a curse in her ears. 
 My people, distraught amid passions and fears, 
 Would abjure Him whom now they were fain to 
 
 receive, 
 
 And turn to their idol-fiends. Could they believe 
 He is better than They ; is the true God above, 
 Who, called God of love, is the Slayer of love ? 
 Must She, once the pledge of close league and 
 
 accord 
 
 To the white royal houses, be set as a sword, 
 Though guiltless, to sunder and slaughter? Her 
 
 sire 
 Would in wrath waste our frontier with spear and 
 
 with fire, 
 Nay, strike to the land's heart, for vengeful is he : 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 5 
 
 But that havoc would rest on thy God, or on thee ! 
 
 Or \vouldst thou I spurned, as accurs'd, Her who 
 clings 
 
 With the clasp of the floweret that draws her life- 
 springs 
 
 From some tree-stem, and strains it with passionate 
 hold ; 
 
 Then breaks into flower-showers, and binds fold on 
 fold 
 
 Of beauty around it, her life-source and stay? 
 
 Wouldst dissever her, Priest ? thou must tear, crush, 
 and slay. 
 
 Four full years agone, when my grandsire was king, 
 I afar on the marches, with leopard-like spring 
 The plague pierced our tribe's throat, and lapped 
 
 life ; a cry 
 Wailed to Heav'n, but no succour came down, no 
 
 reply : 
 Then the Priest spake, ' The Gods have forborne 
 
 with us long ; 
 
 Ye joyed, and forgot them ye die for the wrong ; 
 Go ye, seek ye the shrines, let the altar-fires blaze, 
 Heap offrings, and blend supplication with praise ; 
 It shall not suffice : human blood, human flesh 
 
6 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Will the Gods have ; a life sweet, and beauteous, 
 
 and fresh, 
 
 The purest and loveliest maid of our race.' 
 The crowd clutched the hope, but my grandsire's 
 
 stern face 
 Met the Priest's face half-doubting ; but sore was 
 
 the need, 
 For his people died ; grimly he bowed to his 
 
 creed ; 
 The creed our sires caught from the dark nations 
 
 round 
 (For our own had been lost in time's mystic 
 
 profound). 
 * Be it so,' he said slowly. Loud cried the High 
 
 Priest : 
 4 The seventh morn, my children, we keep the 
 
 God's feast ! ' 
 News came to the camp ; the troops clamoured 
 
 to go, 
 And I gave hundreds leave, but I cared not to 
 
 know 
 What was done. Would they butcher the fairest 
 
 and best ? 
 ' Rather sweep off/ I mutter'd, ' whole swarms of 
 
 the rest.' 
 But it was not for me to decide, or rebel ; 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 7 
 
 The Priests chose their victim, and guarded her 
 
 well. 
 Late the sixth day one told me the doom'd 
 
 maiden's name : 
 Could it be? O curs'd idol ! His child? His? 
 
 Whose fame 
 Was my country's ; who train'd me and led me to 
 
 war ; 
 
 As a father I loved him my fame's guiding star. 
 And she, my bright playmate in days of the past, 
 So unearthly in beauty, so fragile ; the last 
 Little shoot of that grand hero-stock that had stood 
 The strength of the kingdom through ages of blood. 
 Must the knife gash that breast? Must the 
 
 merciless fire 
 Eat the still quivering limbs ? Must her race thus 
 
 expire ? 
 
 Too late to entreat ; and, my troops now so few, 
 Too late the fierce thought that surged up, to shear 
 
 through 
 The power of the priest with the edge of the sword. 
 
 I was madden'd ; must act ; and at once went the 
 
 word 
 That my horsemen (you start ; we have good 
 
 steeds and fleet) 
 
8 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Should arm them (they numbered a score), and 
 
 should meet 
 
 At the fringe of the forest in rear of the camp. 
 I joined them ; gave orders ; the long slashing 
 
 tramp 
 
 Broke steadily onward o'er hillspur, down steep, 
 Through gorges and torrents that whirled with a 
 
 sweep 
 Like our own. Then the darkness came swift as a 
 
 blow, 
 Yet nor stagger'd, nor stay'd us ; through blackness 
 
 we go. 
 Soon we sank with a jerk ; for the deep, holding 
 
 mire 
 Had engulfed us (I knew then the true track was 
 
 higher). 
 Our chargers plunged, strained, and were freed ; 
 
 caught again ; 
 And anew loos'd ; they stagger'd to land ; all but 
 
 twain ; 
 Then with hiss of the stream, through the gloom, 
 
 as we pause, 
 
 The metallic clash rings of a crocodile's jaws. 
 On we sped ; cactus pierced, aloes drove with fell 
 
 force 
 Their poniards bone-deep into horseman and horse. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 9 
 
 One a climber's coil snared with a lasso-thong's 
 
 strength ; 
 Flung headlong it lay, with snapt shoulder, full 
 
 length ; 
 While the lion's roar boom'd through the drear 
 
 jungle-cries. 
 
 Oh, joy! the moon's scimitar waves through the 
 
 skies, 
 As though a God brandish'd his glaive for the 
 
 fight; 
 And as though it had thrown living sparkles of 
 
 light ; 
 Sudden stars flash around ; and in safety we 
 
 ride 
 Through a plain well-nigh boundless. Our steeds' 
 
 breath and stride 
 Grow short ; yet no end is neared. Thus in our 
 
 dreams 
 Moves our road as we move, like the flowing of 
 
 streams. 
 
 All at once our eyes shrank in the sun's red-hot 
 
 glare, 
 That mock'd, as the idol's own devilish stare 
 
10 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Gleams forth from the flame-spurts that roar and 
 
 consume, 
 When man's burning flesh chokes the air with its 
 
 fume. 
 
 Fell sign. Rather plunging than galloping now, 
 Our barbs flounder'd up to the city's hill-brow ; 
 And we saw far below us the streets flowing full, 
 Houses deck'd ; shouts were surging ; and then 
 
 came a lull ; 
 And the roll of the death-drum ! Sharp-smitten 
 
 our steeds 
 Sprang forward, their haunches all quivering like 
 
 reeds ; 
 Some rock'd o'er on their side, or were hurl'd on 
 
 their head, 
 
 And a rider was flung straight before me stone- 
 dead. 
 And as mere trunks, of limbs reft, perforce hurried 
 
 down, 
 Sped they down the descent, and in through the 
 
 throng'd town 
 (How I know not), and on to the temple-court's 
 
 square. 
 
 On foot in a moment, my dagger's point bare, 
 I clove the jamm'd mass. Rose the Priest's choral 
 
 chant, 
 
TIIK WHITE AFRICANS. I I 
 
 And the victim (I noted her bosom's sharp pant) 
 Passed white-robed and garlanded, full in my view. 
 Tier on tier I had pierced ; should I ever break 
 through ? 
 
 By the altar-stone now, with the Priests marshall'd 
 
 round, 
 Cower'd the maiden, her bosom laid bare, her 
 
 eyes bound. 
 ' Sovereign Lord of our lives, lo ! our fairest we 
 
 give; 
 
 Take the ransom, and suffer this people to live : ' 
 Thus their chief pray'd, and stretch'd forth his 
 
 hand to the steel : 
 
 For an instance did brain and limb helplessly reel, 
 But my eyes, as the dead's eyes, were fixed, where 
 
 the swell 
 Of the snow-disk must break in blood. Ere the 
 
 knife fell 
 I had sprung to my eye's mark, had burst the last 
 
 ring, 
 Had reach'd her, and caught her, and quick with a 
 
 swing 
 Set her safe, as the knife hiss'd for gore and flash'd 
 
 past. 
 
12 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Then roared a demoniac yell-burst, and fast 
 With axes and clubs leapt the priests from the 
 
 shrine ; 
 Shouts answer'd ; my horsemen's : and by me 
 
 were nine. 
 Our arms stay'd the rush ; the dusk gleam in my 
 
 eye 
 
 Told the Hierarch he would be first that would die ; 
 And he drew back : and sullen they faced us and 
 
 still, 
 While the multitude's gaze sought the slope of the 
 
 hill 
 Where the king's throne was girt by the powers of 
 
 the land ; 
 There the Pontiff harangued with wild jerks of his 
 
 hand, 
 And the nobles gave counsel. But ere the King 
 
 spake, 
 
 In masterless fury the mob's stupor brake ; 
 Yet clear came his voice ; through the people it 
 
 ran : 
 ' Let the Prince take the girl ; or the Gods, if they 
 
 can ! ' 
 Heaved the throng, shrill'd dread death-cries with 
 
 crashing of blows ; 
 And myriads, maddened with blood-thirsting, close 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 13 
 
 In upon us. I glanced at my lately-won prize 
 
 So soon lost again, so I deem'd : eyes met 
 
 eyes 
 (For the bandage had dropped). In her glance 
 
 was no dread : 
 ' I shall die not all lone,' was the first thought I 
 
 read ; 
 Then a change came, a sad, yearning, shuddering 
 
 gaze, 
 Saying, * Must thou, too, die in the midst of thy 
 
 days ? ' 
 And in light on my spirit that sweet look was 
 
 brent. 
 
 As I lifted my eyes the mass writhing was rent ; 
 Out-flashed horrent blades ; hopeless, waiting the 
 
 end, 
 
 I held her ; and, lo ! 'twas the hand of a friend 
 That wielded each war-axe ; for at the king's 
 
 word 
 
 Had the soldiery dashed to the help of their lord. 
 Weapons hacked, javelins, thick as blood-flies on 
 
 a fen, 
 Sung, and found them soft rest in the bodies of 
 
 men ; 
 Through the court's press, through alley and street 
 
 we cut sheer ; 
 
14 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Then, firm as the thrust of a home-driven spear, 
 Through the loose shifting crowds sped we clean 
 
 without stop, 
 
 And bore her unharmed to the city's hill-top. 
 There the foe melted from us. We halted awhile ; 
 And there, in the face of the troops and Heaven's 
 
 smile, 
 
 Full in sight of the swarming tumultuous town, 
 With privy consent sought and gained from the 
 
 crown, 
 While sun-flushed the high mountain-summit of 
 
 snow 
 
 Threw its glory far downward to greet us below, 
 By our land's ancient laws, by the oaths that abide, 
 I took her my own, Second, true, honoured 
 
 Bride. 
 
 Yet even in camp, every day, nigh all hours, 
 
 My soul felt dread's clutch through the priests' 
 
 serpent-powers, 
 For they wrought still to pluck forth her life for 
 
 their God. 
 Last year, when the king's death gave sovereignty's 
 
 rod 
 Unto my hand, I summoned their whole priestly 
 
 caste, 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. I 5 
 
 And spoke : 'The king warns you, forget ye the 
 
 past ; 
 
 Her life is as yours ; mar one lock of her head, 
 Ye who feed the flames living shall feed the flames 
 
 dead ! ' 
 
 Henceforth neither open nor secret attack ; 
 But those years of suspense ! as taut cords of a 
 
 rack 
 On the heart-strings ; that oft as my foot left her 
 
 door 
 Drew sharp, and my throat filled with salt taste of 
 
 gore; 
 
 Lest, returning, I found Death before me within, 
 Found for flesh as of lote-flowers a livid corpse- 
 skin ; 
 Or, for love's tones, heard shrieks from black lips 
 
 shrivelled up 
 Through the dirk's poisoned wound or the fanged 
 
 venom-cup. 
 What marvel my life seemed to live in her frame ! 
 
 O man, oh God's mouthpiece, wouldst fling her to 
 
 shame ? 
 Wouldst tear out her soul's faith and love ? By 
 
 my hands ? 
 
1 6 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Must I cry to her, ' God, dread and holy, com- 
 mands ; 
 
 I renounce thee as vile, oh, once purest and best ; 
 I stamp thee to Hell, while I spring to Heaven's 
 
 rest.' 
 (Ah, Lord God, that the knife ever missed its 
 
 blood-quest !) 
 Lied the Word, saying, ' Christ welcomed all whoso 
 
 came ? ' 
 Lo, my welcome is soul-stabs, hers soul burning 
 
 flame ! 
 We deemed that His heart's beat was love : that 
 
 His heaven 
 W r as blurred, marred, without us. I freely had 
 
 given 
 
 To the God-Man I imaged my kingdom, my life 
 Be it hell, be it heaven, I cleave to my wife." 
 
 Cold and hard, as he flung down the torturing 
 
 choice, 
 Had the Priest's words out-tolled, and as fate was 
 
 his voice. 
 
 But anon, as the tideswell of passion and grief 
 Tore its way, seething forth from the heart of the 
 
 chief, 
 
THI-: \vnrnc AFRICANS. 17 
 
 Pity's sealed deeps were stirred in his own human 
 
 soul, 
 
 And tossed ; as the frozen streams waken and roll, 
 By the Spring's warm touch quickened and loosed 
 
 from the tomb. 
 'Must it be?' Thus his heart asked, * Must Hell 
 
 be the doom, 
 
 Be the wages, of Truth ? Is it Christ-like ? or just ? 
 Are they naught, too, these women ? Mere 
 
 passionless dust, 
 Without worth, without rights ? " Without Soul," 
 
 says the Turk : 
 Were it so, God, less deadly, less ghastly, my 
 
 work ! ' 
 But as these strive, fresh thoughts rush, a keen, icy 
 
 breeze, 
 ' Habit, home-laws, church-code ; ' and the soul's 
 
 instincts freeze, 
 
 And his body is ice to the numb finger-tips ; 
 Then as cleft by a wedge-stroke his marble-like lips 
 Sprang apart, " I have set Death before thee and 
 
 life: 
 And, behold ! thou hast put away Heaven for thy 
 
 wife ! " 
 
 END OF PART I. 
 
 B 
 
iiart 
 
 Isa awaiting the return of the King, her husband : the 
 perils of the homeward journey ; flood and savage 
 foe, mountain and jungle, deadly reptile and raven- 
 ous beast. 
 
 HER eyes worn with watching, her heart faint with 
 
 longing, 
 
 Tortured lest weary thoughts' wand'rings were 
 wronging 
 
 Him her whole body and spirit adore, 
 Isa sank low on her palace-room's floor. 
 
 " Our hope, the life-issues," she moaned, " yea, thy 
 
 danger, 
 Husband, seem phantoms. God, well-nigh a 
 
 stranger 
 
 Yet surely merciful, pardon this thing ; 
 Thought like a flying dove shot through the wing, 
 Beats, beats, and whirls helpless. 
 
TIIK WHITE AFRICANS. 19 
 
 But, strong for all duty, 
 
 Calmly the queen moves (that calmness is beauty), 
 Calmly does all things as though He were by. 
 Can she love truly, and wholly, as I ? " 
 She rested a little while mute ; then upspringing 
 Flung forth her voice as a chief's war-bells ringing ; 
 " Yes, I must sing me the song he once made ; 
 While with my eyes, mouth, and tresses he 
 played : 
 
 1 Listen the call of a clear little bird-voice* 
 Chirruping, " Follow, oh follow me, come." 
 ' \Yhy should I trust to a tiny bird's guidance ? 
 Where will it lead?' 'To the sweet treasure's 
 home/ 
 
 Call, little honeybird, 
 
 Flutter and call. 
 
 ' If I should hesitate, falter, or loiter, 
 
 Will it lose patience, and take wing away ? ' 
 ' No, it will flit before, then back, then onward ; 
 Coaxing, if need be, the whole live-long day.' 
 Call, little honeybird, 
 Flutter and call. 
 
 * See the account of the Honeybird in Stanley's or other African 
 Travels; it will also be noticed that Africans have a turn for 
 improvising ditties. 
 
20 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 * If then I follow wherever it leadeth, 
 
 Is success certain, and worthy the prize ? ' 
 
 * Failure there cannot be ; food there for hunger, 
 
 Sweet to the taste, and joy to the eyes.' 
 Call, little honeybird, 
 Flutter and call. 
 
 " Call My Own Darling ; I follow, I follow ; 
 
 Dangerous or rough the road, mine willing feet ; 
 Thou art my luring voice, Thou my conductor, 
 Yea, and my aim and prize, Thyself, my sweet." 
 Call, my own Love ; I come 
 Ere thou canst call.' 
 
 " I call thee," she cried, " come, my Husband, my 
 
 own!" 
 
 And e'en while her cry as a javelin was thrown, 
 He, away from the Priest, in the torture and whir 
 And wrath of his spirit, was fleeing to her : 
 All his soul and life yearning in desolate pain 
 For the voice of his darlings, for love's touch again. 
 Three days he fled, 'wildered, and blinded : at last, 
 By marshes ringed round, faced by floods bellow- 
 ing past, 
 
 He stopped : and the Priest's Word, like witch- 
 craft's blind haze, 
 
T1IK WHITE AFRICANS. 21 
 
 Floated off from his soul now ; he saw, in amaze, 
 He was far from the track, with death's hazard in 
 
 front, 
 And behind foes as jackal troops roused to the 
 
 hunt. 
 In he leapt; the swirl's buffet stuns hearing and 
 
 sight, 
 And his thews are as straws in the plunge of its 
 
 might, 
 As it slings him away. Effort, hope's self, seems 
 
 vain, 
 But the stress strangled woe, and not life, but life's 
 
 pain. 
 Down below, the stream-sluice, with a scream and 
 
 wild toss, 
 
 Shook a wood-giant's ruined bulk flung far across ; 
 And at once he was hurled on a bare stake-like 
 
 bough, 
 And clutched with numbed hands, while on mouth 
 
 and on brow 
 Crashed the tree-antlers. Well that they guarded 
 
 the trunk 
 That had brained him else ; quick his hand caught 
 
 ere he sunk ; 
 There he clung, and was safe ; but dark forms on 
 
 the shore 
 
22 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Waved their arms, but their cries died amid the 
 
 flood-roar, 
 
 Then a gleam shot above, and to left, and to right, 
 Upon river and tree swooped the thick arrow-flight; 
 And a point ploughed his wrist his one life-chance 
 
 again 
 Was the flood's hap ; he reached with his whole 
 
 body's strain, 
 And with grasp deftly shifted, the branches' ring's 
 
 verge ; 
 Loosed hold, was plucked down, and swung lost in 
 
 the gurge. 
 Then his face rose, and glared as a strangled man's 
 
 face; 
 
 And passed, as a dead thing shot down the flood- 
 race. 
 
 And verily Death had been his, if the banks 
 Had not ere long crouched down, till, flung out on 
 
 both flanks, 
 
 The torrent self-broken lay calm as a mere ; 
 He is slowly borne shorewards, strives feebly, is 
 
 near; 
 Ah, he sinks ! No, one last effort more ; he feels 
 
 ground ; 
 Falls ; but sways up ; and falls ; but creeps past 
 
 the lake's bound. 
 
TI1K WHITE AFRICANS. 23 
 
 It was well he was counted as dead by the foe, 
 So they followed him not ; for the hours come 
 
 and go, 
 
 And he lies 'mid the reeds' flicker lifelessly still, 
 As a rock fragment couches, lone, desolate, chill. 
 
 At the last, as a rock moves by force not its 
 
 own, 
 Slowly moved the king's limbs, and again lay as 
 
 stone. 
 But a throe came ; his eyes oped, and stared fixed 
 
 and wide, 
 And the past o'er them slid, as a stream's drowsy 
 
 tide ; 
 
 And he seemed to again journey seaward ; he rode 
 Thro' thicket and fen, while his whole spirit glowed 
 With the high hope and yearning to win and 
 
 to bear 
 God's full blessing home. Then once more in 
 
 despair 
 Seemed he watching the dulled dying gaze of his 
 
 horse 
 By the swamp's breath slain ; then turning sad 
 
 from the corse, 
 
 To be riving on foot through the jungle once more ; 
 Till at last awed yet joyous he heard the sea roar. 
 
24 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And as one who has wrought for some nigh hope- 
 less prize, 
 
 And has won it, exulting he met the Priest's eyes ; 
 And they gleamed, in his trance, with the pitiless 
 
 glare 
 Of the Idol-Fiend's Self! As noosed birds strain 
 
 the snare, 
 So he struggled to break through the dream ; and 
 
 it passed. 
 
 But a fresh vision comes, like and unlike the last. 
 All the long homeward journey was ended, he 
 
 dreamed, 
 And the sweet faces (never more sweet had they 
 
 seemed) 
 Laughed a welcome. But e'en as the smile played, 
 
 each face 
 Shivered troubled, and failed ; and forth flashed in 
 
 their place 
 The Priest's eyes wrath-fired. 
 
 Roused, he sprang, won his feet ; 
 But he reeled in the waves of Gehenna-like heat ; 
 Yet he threw himself full on the brake's circling 
 
 o 
 
 teeth, 
 
 Thorns above, thorn and sword-grass and cactus 
 beneath ; 
 
Till-: WHITE AFRICANS. 25 
 
 Torn he passed through ; and through, with sheer 
 
 weight turn and twist, 
 All the thicket, that oped now, now shut ; while a 
 
 mist 
 Crawled heavy with venom ; and plants as he 
 
 trod 
 Spat up stench from the foul leaves that speckled 
 
 the sod ; 
 Ants clung stinging ; mosquitoes stabbed arms, 
 
 face, and throat ; 
 And the blood welled and dripped where the 
 
 gadfly's barb smote. 
 Hideous things stirred around and beneath ; lizard, 
 
 asp, 
 Toad, and scorpion ; and once, with a bull in its 
 
 clasp, 
 Writhed a python before him ; its eyes' burning 
 
 ring 
 
 Was upon him ; and swiftly, as if for a spring, 
 From the crushed, huddled mass it unwound spire 
 
 and coil ; 
 Then, with one glance of doubt, back it turned to 
 
 its spoil. 
 
 On he dashed himself. See ! in a moment wide ope, 
 As a door, stood the jungle ; and slope after slope 
 
26 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Swelled out, and then hid. Sparkled flowers of all 
 
 dyes, 
 And with life, bright as flowers winged or gems, 
 
 earth and skies 
 Were all movement and colour ; and where the 
 
 trees' grace 
 
 Would be charm's crown, their columns and frond- 
 age had place ; 
 Near him two slight forms tow'red leaning each 
 
 toward each, 
 Whose boughs flowed as robes, and as sound of 
 
 love-speech 
 All their murmurs ; a grim giant there ; there a 
 
 grove, 
 Where like athletes the thronging stems twined 
 
 limbs and strove ; 
 
 And there, to what seemed to the upmounting sight 
 But a needle's point, down through a hundred 
 
 yards' height, 
 
 Evermore widening evenly out round on round, 
 Till the dark branches' tips flickering high o'er the 
 
 ground, 
 Feather-like, made a tent where a king's court 
 
 might rest, 
 A mimosa stood clear on the fairest knoll-crest. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 2/ 
 
 The beauty he felt, but scarce saw ; he was free, 
 
 That he saw, and his soul cried : ' Lord, is it of 
 Thee 
 
 That the heart of man lying, saith, " God's eye is 
 Hate, 
 
 His arm Wrath?" Thine eye smiles; the prison- 
 house gate 
 
 Has been surely flung black ; the hand surely is 
 Thine.' 
 
 Then with body refreshed, and heart nerved by the 
 sign, 
 
 Onward sped he, still onward, and came as night 
 fell 
 
 Where a strong village guarded a maize-dotted 
 dell, 
 
 And was sheltered ; but no, not from fever's fang ; 
 morn 
 
 Danced blithe on the home path, when, powerless 
 and worn, 
 
 He essayed to go forth, and fell ; day crept ; night ; 
 day; 
 
 And night ; with the next morn he crept on his 
 way. 
 
 Unimpeded he rose, by ascents scarcely felt, 
 
 To a smooth mountain-arch, where the health- 
 breezes dwelt 
 
28 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 For ever, it seemed ; and there lingering, he slept ; 
 And awoke and was strong ; while the blood-eddies 
 
 leapt 
 As from wine-draughts. 
 
 Henceforth, though days gathered to weeks, 
 His strength held, and bore him through chasms, 
 
 o'er peaks, 
 
 Past the multiform barriers and snares of the way, 
 Over reptiles' fangs oft, close to gaunt beasts of 
 
 prey, 
 
 And the tusks of the boar, and the unicorn's horn, 
 And the monster whose bulk breaks as stalks of 
 
 the corn 
 
 The stems of the forest. A robber-tribe's keep 
 Threatened murder ; anon 'mid crops, fruit-trees, 
 
 and sheep, 
 
 Frank welcome was given by a peace-loving race : 
 And a few leagues thence bones and black hum- 
 mucks left trace 
 Of hell-deeds. Now full seven months had been 
 
 lost 
 Through the Priest's blinding word ere the true 
 
 track was crost ; 
 Wasted months, precious, yea, beyond price, to 
 
 the King. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 29 
 
 But with fresh hope he sped now: his long wan- 
 dering 
 Drew fast to a close ; yet must much still be 
 
 borne ; 
 And with stout heart he bore it : from eve unto 
 
 morn, 
 And from morn to eve, death-girt by men and by 
 
 beast, 
 He from deluge to drought toiled, from famine to 
 
 feast ; 
 
 Till a dim image, flecking the crystalline sky, 
 Like shadowy robes of the land's deity, 
 Grew forth : and he knew his realm's fastness 
 
 and pride, 
 The snow-mountain's form where his loved ones 
 
 abide. 
 
 END OF PART II. 
 
Home ; Treason ; the King and Queen and Isa ; the 
 Appeal from the Priest's Word to God's Word : 
 heartpeace. 
 
 Do their hearts feel him near them ? As his do 
 theirs leap ? 
 
 Like the features of one who walks forth in deep 
 sleep 
 
 Was the Queen's pure face, grown slowly fixed with 
 the strain 
 
 That on feeling and nerve sharply drew bit and 
 rein, 
 
 Lest the hearts of the loyal should faint at her 
 dread, 
 
 Lest an act should be unwrought, or word be un- 
 said 
 
 That her love's King could wish done or spoken. 
 
 In her 
 
 Dwelt the spirit of Him, the condemned prisoner, 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 31 
 
 The patriot chieftain, who, curbing by will 
 
 Limb and feeling, goes forth, while the mob gaze 
 
 their fill : 
 Having bravely fought, kept stainless faith to his 
 
 fall, 
 
 Now bravely he answers his manhood's last call. 
 Yet he fears, fears lest strength or sense sink in a 
 
 stound, 
 Or a nerve twitch, or foot fail to grip on the 
 
 ground. 
 Hark ! The crowd watching, buzzing with rage or 
 
 applause, 
 Mutter ' Calm : How calm ! ' Some breathe, 
 
 1 True Hero, true cause.' 
 
 Ah ! endurance unbearable : will and flesh shock, 
 And his rest (he craves for it) lies yonder ; the 
 
 Block ! 
 Thus the Queen moved. 
 
 But Isa's soul's passion-powers veer 
 (Hope at times crushing fear's strength, at times 
 
 quelled by fear), 
 And a look gathered, born of these changes of 
 
 change, 
 So that whoso beheld her face thought it not 
 
 strange, 
 
32 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 That he felt all its charm, but marked only large 
 
 eyes, 
 Now appealing, now bright'ning, now full with 
 
 surmise ; 
 
 Hazel, liquid eyes, splendent with life , vivid-clear, 
 As tear-drops, could light and soul dwell in a tear. 
 
 The Headmen, the great Warriors, all save a few, 
 Waited still their King's coming, expectant and 
 
 true, 
 Amid doubts, rumours, fears, dying hopes ; but, 
 
 deep down, 
 Through the Sub-Chiefs, throughout all the host, 
 
 and the town 
 Was a word flitting aye (the Guard's Chief gave it 
 
 wing), 
 " Seek we New Gods ? 'twere wiser to seek a New 
 
 King 
 For the state reels with frenzy, and tumult, and 
 
 dread ; 
 And He comes not who once was King ; yea, He 
 
 is dead." 
 And the Word month by month flew from man 
 
 unto man : 
 And the Priesthood were working, as Priests only 
 
 can, 
 
TIIK \YII1TK AFRICANS. 33 
 
 To stay their God's downfall : And many went 
 
 forth, 
 Self-exiled, and. dwelt in the lands West and 
 
 North 
 With their dusky Priest-brethren : and those in 
 
 the West, 
 Pricked to heart, muttered wrath : but were fiercely 
 
 represt 
 By their White Sovereign's hand, for the love of 
 
 his child, 
 His white kindred's Queen. But the Northern 
 
 priests, wild 
 
 With the hatred of races, and hate now of creeds, 
 Preached war through their vast country's diverse 
 
 black breeds 
 
 And in secret, in silence, innumerous hosts 
 Crept snakelike and swift to the White Nation's 
 
 coasts : 
 
 And lurked like a coiled snake, their presence un- 
 known, 
 W T hen the snow-mountain's Monarch came back to 
 
 his own. 
 
 Home's love-lights greet him ; one face of sweet 
 grandeur, 
 
 Perfect from touch of joy's wand ; and a face 
 C 
 
34 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Beauteous with glancings of half-tears and laughter, 
 
 Lovely as grace follows wavelike on grace. 
 Now on the worn limbs, and weary worn spirit, 
 Rest would have breathed as heaven's peace ; 
 
 but the doom 
 Rose amidst, yea from the bliss of their presence, 
 
 Dark as the soul-fires that gnaw amid gloom, 
 Tenderness fathomless m et their glad greeting ; 
 Then his heart shrank, as the tongue strove to 
 
 tell, 
 
 How peril, toil, and pain won but the pang's choice, 
 ( Self's love and Heaven, or Love's truth and 
 
 Hell ! ' 
 Gently the issue was told : And they, moveless, 
 
 Clung to him dumbly, with stilled hearts, attent ; 
 Till, as a child's helpless wail (' Oh, thy tortures ! 
 
 Vainly borne, vainly '), broke Isa's lament. 
 " Dead," cried the Queen, " are these ; but deathless 
 
 torture 
 Looms ! " (And her voice was as voice of the 
 
 lyre, 
 
 When the soul's agony rings through the handbeat ;) 
 " Honour and truth win the worm and the fire ? " 
 
 " Nay let God Himself judge ; He is Judge, not the 
 Priest ! " 
 
Till-: \\H1TK AFRICANS. 35 
 
 Spake the King. And, as day died, a star in the 
 
 east 
 Gazed on cheeks blanched, then mantling ; and 
 
 watched with set look 
 As their eyes glowed, or darkened ; before the 
 
 doom-book. 
 That hour on the frontier, beneath the brake's 
 
 screen, 
 Moved the black ambushed tribes without sound 
 
 and unseen ; 
 And the guards knew no more than the blind knows 
 
 or feels, 
 When beneath winter's stillness spring's life-spirit 
 
 steals, 
 
 And resistless flows onward, unmarked and unheard, 
 Till it leaps forth with paean of insect and bird ; 
 Thus they thrid their way, ready to dart, and 
 
 skimmed on : 
 And the time to resist them flies swift ; yea is 
 
 gone! 
 Once the Queen breathed, " Dread mutt'rings of 
 
 treason and bale 
 Seethed around us, my King, my Own : flesh and 
 
 heart fail, 
 Now, now, while we clasp thee restored, and have 
 
 bliss; 
 
36 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Yet surely this terror shall pass, even this, 
 
 When thy people behold thee." He answered, 
 
 " To-night 
 We confront not man's treason, but God and His 
 
 might ; 
 For the weight of the curse numbs and crushes my 
 
 brain, 
 
 And vain seems all statecraft, and all Kingship vain, 
 Until God speak the judgment for woe or for weal : 
 From the Priest's word, O God, to Thy word I 
 
 appeal ! " 
 As a man in a wood's mesh caught, lost in the 
 
 maze, 
 Cons all tokens, they ceaselessly scanned text and 
 
 phrase, 
 With eyes as if flame-scorched and hearts all 
 
 aflame ; 
 
 Yet ever anon unto eye and heart came, 
 Cool as touch of earth's waters, sweet draughts from 
 
 God's well, 
 Restful words ; And he cried, as if rending a 
 
 spell, 
 " Oft, full oft, Herald's mouthings have marred the 
 
 King's will, 
 Chiefs have warped the King's mandate to harass 
 
 and kill ; 
 
Tin-: \viiiTi-: AFRICANS. 37 
 
 But Thy Word have I searched, Lord, with fear 
 
 searched ; and lo ! 
 
 Upon us is no wrath, no denouncement of woe ; 
 It cries, " Take another's wife, death is the doom ; 
 Here the death-life, the soul's death beyond the 
 
 still tomb." 
 
 It cries, " Wed again ere thy husband be dead, 
 And, adulteress, hell is thy soul's spousal bed." 
 And it cries to the Priest-caste " One Wife." * 
 
 But for me 
 
 It hath no menace-cry. I and all men are free, 
 Save the tribe sacerdotal, in God's liberty ! 
 Not on us. not our state, by the Priest held 
 
 abhorred, 
 Smites the curse : We are free by Thy f Warrant, 
 
 O Lord. 
 
 And the freedom Thou givest, Lawgiver, shall Man 
 (As the Judge of his own soul's Judge) scathe with 
 
 his ban ? " 
 
 Then up from the spirit's dim wastes Godwards 
 
 leapt 
 (As a wave, that through midnight has meaningly 
 
 slept, 
 
 * I Tim. iii. 2 and 12 ; and Titus 1-6. 
 
 t Exodus xxi. 10 ; Deut. xxi. 15, et passim. 
 
38 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Wakes and leaps to the sun from the dark heaving 
 
 seas) 
 
 Their soul's tossing hopes ; whose word-shadows 
 are these : 
 
 ' Might of might, when the blast of Thy wrath brake, 
 
 Earth rocked, and the heaven's fire-shafts 
 Clove red through the darkness and shriek of 
 
 whirled water ; 
 
 All tribes of men cowered as a folk led to slaughter : 
 Thy glaives of fear pierce to their hafts : 
 We drink of Thy wrath terror-draughts ; 
 Yea our spirits are rent as by earthquake ; 
 
 We cower, we would fain flee to Thee, 
 As one with one heart-beat in three : 
 Bid the soul's horror cease, for thine own glory's 
 sake, 
 
 O holy, supreme Deity.' 
 
 ' Spirit-Lord, Liege of Life, the creation 
 
 Breathes bliss when Thy smile breaks again : 
 We know, we give thanks, that Thy largess, life's 
 
 treasure, 
 Flows forth from Thine hand as the hours without 
 
 measure, 
 
THE WIIITI-: AFRICANS. 39 
 
 As wind-streams, or Mowings of rain : 
 But, ah ! was our soul's presage vain, 
 
 That Thy might is our soul's preservation ? 
 
 From Thee we came forth, and to Thee 
 As one with one heart-beat we flee : 
 
 Take us, Lord ; art Thou not all our life and 
 salvation ? 
 
 O life-giving, blest Deity.' 
 
 
 O'er their souls passed a voice ; a divine hand 
 
 seemed laid 
 On their bowed heads ; they felt God, and were 
 
 not afraid, 
 For their hearts had found rest in His own heart 
 
 of love ; 
 " Peace ! " the voice said, " mine own." They alone 
 
 know who prove ; 
 They know, could they tell, the tranced rest when 
 
 the soul, 
 Made * for God, but long lost, flies love-drawn to 
 
 its goal. 
 
 * Fecisti nos ad Te, Domine, et inquietum est cor nostrum donee 
 requiescat in Te. Aug. 
 
 END OF PART III. 
 
flatt 517. 
 
 The Alarm, and Farewell ; the Battle : The Chief of the 
 Guard and the Queen : The Chief of the Guard and 
 Isa : Treason prevails. 
 
 WHO of men knows what souls of men need, joy or 
 
 anguish ? 
 
 What nations are ripe for, or worthy, the Truth ? 
 Yea, but They merit, They who make Christ's light 
 
 yoke grievous, 
 God's judgment without God's ruth. 
 
 Heaven's own rapture flooded the suppliants' spirits ; 
 But such is not time-born, nor weighed in time's 
 
 scale ; 
 Hurried steps ringing herald a presence unbidden, 
 
 The chief of the guard ; corpse-pale 
 Stood he there, and cried, ' O King, the Lord of 
 
 the North realm 
 
 Is upon us.' ' How near ? Where ? ' ' They 
 forced the blue fords : 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 41 
 
 As the snake darts and strikes, they struck : O 
 
 King, the Lowlands, 
 Are shambles for murd'rous hordes.' 
 Isa's eyes fell fear-clouded ; the eyes of the 
 
 Queen 
 Rested full on the King's, and watched, fearless 
 
 and keen, 
 As his words throbbed ; ' Your life, my belov'd, the 
 
 land's fate, 
 
 Yonder lies ; there I haste ; to the iron-hill's gate : 
 Thou, (ah, woe for the plains ) Thou, who, 
 
 (Priest) from their place 
 Spurnest wives, all but one ; who wouldst brand 
 
 and abase 
 Stainless true women, this thou hast wrought, even 
 
 Thou ! 
 Woe, woe for the plain's wreck ! Death courses : 
 
 and now 
 
 None can see to the end. Let ambassadors fly 
 To the Queen's Royal Sire, Chief : " Thy child," 
 
 let them cry, 
 " Sues, entreats, thee, King, march on our foes' 
 
 flank, and smite : " 
 Quick, an escort to guard these safe up to the 
 
 height : 
 Quick, a legion to follow me straight to the dell, 
 
42 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 For I dare not pause ; Death hastes ; dear, dear, 
 wives, farewell ! ' 
 
 By the tense strain of dread driven, straight as the 
 
 bow 
 Drives the winged death, he reached the ravine 
 
 while the foe 
 Swarmed together beneath, and the chiefs ranged 
 
 the host. 
 He had gone round, seen, cheered every man at 
 
 his post, 
 When a yell quivered up to the dumb moveless 
 
 guard, 
 Like the blent howl of jackal, hyaena, and pard. 
 
 " Bound, bound, 
 
 To the charge ; 
 Sound horn and drum, 
 
 Clash the targe ; 
 On, on ! 
 
 Hie, swift dart, 
 Through rib-bone and joint ; 
 O true arrow's point, 
 
 To the heart ! 
 On, on ! 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 43 
 
 Swing, swing the mace, 
 
 Crash on the face ; 
 Sweet are the whoops and the whine, 
 As the axehead swoops through the spine. 
 On, on ! 
 
 Slay ! slay 1 slay ! 
 Sweep the pale gods from the land, 
 Hack the pale insolent hand ; 
 
 Then to the prey ! 
 On, on I 
 
 Gear for the snatching, 
 
 Herds for the catching, 
 Drink for the lip, 
 Maid and wife for the grip I 
 On, on ! 
 
 On, on ! 
 
 Clash the targe, 
 Sound horn and drum ; 
 Yell, charge ! " 
 
 Like the fell ague-grasp, as of live hands that shake 
 Nerve, and marrow, and brain, a cold horror-clutch 
 
 brake 
 The King's soul. ' Oh dear ones ! ' he moaned ; 
 
 the ascent 
 
44 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Heaved with close-thronging spears now, and foes 
 
 blood-besprent ; 
 And some well he knew ; and strong fury cast 
 
 out 
 The fear-fiend : he shouted, and forth at that 
 
 shout, 
 As the waiting hound springs at his master's quick 
 
 cheer, 
 A crag, poised and ready, was loosed, and sprang 
 
 clear. 
 The headmost foes saw, and had swerved (he 
 
 watched hushed) ; 
 There was no room ; they turned to flee ; on the 
 
 rear crushed, 
 And drave them to slaughter : the boulder's last 
 
 bound 
 Echoed loud with a thud ; and a dull grinding 
 
 sound 
 And screams told of carnage ; and far back the 
 
 mass 
 Smote together and reeled through the jaws of the 
 
 pass. 
 
 As at times hunger-maddened a strong wild-dogs' 
 pack, 
 
TIIK WHITE AFRICANS. 45 
 
 If it cross, dashes recklessly down on the track 
 Of a leopard ; till fronting his bared teeth and 
 
 claws, 
 With the hunt's leader slain, scared and huddled 
 
 they pause : 
 Then in wrath, and in hope that by quick deathful 
 
 blows 
 He may make vengeance safety, forth darts on his 
 
 foes 
 The assailed turned assailant. And thus from the 
 
 heights 
 Down leaps the white King, and the steel rends 
 
 and bites 
 To the life's core ; red swaths here, and here a 
 
 corpse-pile 
 
 Grow within, and on, outward, far past the defile : 
 For confusion and panic shake club, dart, and 
 
 pike, 
 In the black warriors' hands ; and fierce writhings 
 
 to strike 
 Give the dirk's tooth less terror for foeman than 
 
 friend ; 
 And the targe and the buckler are vain to 
 
 defend. 
 
 Thus the white swordsmen's buffet and thrust, swift 
 and fell, 
 
46 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Glide home on the bare guardless bodies : full 
 
 well 
 Do the lowlands find vengeance ; gore cries unto 
 
 gore. 
 
 Oh God, for the light of a thousand spears more ! 
 For now had the swarth horde been hurled from 
 
 the plain, 
 Daunted, scattered, and crushed, ne'er to rally 
 
 again. 
 But they come not. 
 
 The Queen, in the stillness at home, 
 Moved restless, and wroth that, as wind-smitten 
 
 foam, 
 Thoughts flew whirled, here on hope, here on woe 
 
 and affright ; 
 When with grey visage fraud-lit, and spirit as 
 
 night, 
 Stood the Guards' Chief before her : " The escort, 
 
 O Queen, 
 Waits." Half-answering, she tossed in a question 
 
 between ; 
 " Have the King's succours gone ? " Not a change 
 
 to the eye 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 47 
 
 Flits o'er hue or o'er feature, as outrings the lie ; 
 ' Long since ; and I doubt not are now 'mid the 
 
 fight 11 
 " Then the King," she said, " conquers ; what need 
 
 then of flight ? " 
 
 " My orders, Sweet Queen." As a scorpion's sting 
 His tone stung her. "Why art not thou with the 
 
 King ? " 
 
 " Mine the option, fair Lady, between you-and him." 
 " And the choice was soon made : not to risk life 
 
 or limb." 
 " Cruel words ! Thou wouldst surely give pity, not 
 
 scorn. 
 Couldst thou know how the spirit ached, smitten 
 
 and torn 
 With its yearning for vengeance, and honour and 
 
 fame, 
 And the fatherland's safety. But, oh ! canst Thou 
 
 blame, 
 If the safety of One seemed more precious than 
 
 all? 
 To be aye with thee, think for thee, be but thy 
 
 thrall ; 
 
 To be sure of thy safety, whatever might chance ; 
 Be thy guardian ; and haply win one favouring 
 
 glance, 
 
48 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Were a joy that " abruptly he ceased ; for her face 
 Awed him ; then her voice strove, and rushed : 
 
 " Insolent, base, 
 
 If not craven, then traitor ; away ! " With a stride 
 He stood, all his visage convulsed, at her side ; 
 And he half stretched his hand forth : " I go, come 
 
 thou too." 
 Quick her arm dipped, and rose, and a poniard's 
 
 edge threw 
 
 A keen glitter full on his unguarded heart. 
 Surprised, unprepared, he sprang back with a 
 
 start ; 
 And his thoughts (while the Queen paused with 
 
 lifted hand, mute) 
 
 Twined as snakes ; ' Shall I spring on her ? Where- 
 fore ? What fruit ? 
 
 If I seize her and bear her by force to the tor, 
 Can I use her? She spurns me, and soon will 
 
 abhor, 
 Soon, when all is known : Yet, e'en in anger, how 
 
 fair, 
 And how queenly she stands, watching motionless 
 
 there : 
 
 Ay, but tameless and useless, a peril and snare ! ' 
 Then he mouthed, " In my zeal, Queen, it may be 
 I erred : 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 49 
 
 But I sought to keep what Thou hast scorned, the 
 
 King's word." 
 He turned, and was gone. 
 
 And to Isa passed straight : 
 " Lady," said he, " the guards, by the King's order, 
 
 wait." i 
 
 ' Which, Thou or the Queen,' thus he mused ere 
 
 she spoke, 
 
 * Is the lovelier ? Thou couldst be bowed to the 
 
 yoke; 
 But the lovelier ? which ? None by rule could 
 
 decree : 
 
 Both are lovely : yet Thou art the lovelier to me. 
 Let me gain thee, I use thee to mask my design ; 
 And the King, and his God fall ; the sceptre is 
 
 mine.' 
 
 " I am ready," she said, her one wish, her lord's will : 
 And she went forth foreboding not falsehood or ill. 
 
 * Praise to thee,' laughed his heart, ' Fetich, God of 
 
 my land, 
 
 Who hast rendered this loveliness unto my hand, 
 And the realm with her : thanks, praise, on thee I 
 
 bestow : 
 
 And thanks to the alien Priest, too, I owe ; 
 (Faith, of all friends our best friend is full oft 
 
 a Foe !) 
 
 D 
 
50 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Thanks, Priest ; for thy good word's sake, thanks : 
 
 as a blight 
 
 It smote on the King's ear, and reason and sight 
 Shrivelled up : how we schemed when he came 
 
 not : at last 
 He was there ! and we quailed : But he came sore 
 
 aghast ; 
 
 Surmised nothing ; no yap of rumour he caught ; 
 Watched all the night through, yet scarce questioned 
 
 of aught ; 
 And is gone vigil-worn now, and still knowing 
 
 naught : 
 Let him check, and be checked by, the foe : and 
 
 his men 
 Are enough, so I judge ; none shall march to the 
 
 glen, 
 'Tide whate'er will betide, ere my work is worked 
 
 out : 
 
 For his let is my speed now, his vict'ry my rout' 
 As the escort moved on, through the town, past 
 
 the shrine, 
 All the old rescue-scene rose, and glowed in love's 
 
 shine 
 
 Before Isa. She trod once again the steep way, 
 Where her Lord, her Deliverer, bore her that 
 
 day : 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 51 
 
 And she paused on the spot where he made her 
 
 his Bride. 
 And the Chief of the Guard, as he strode at her 
 
 side, 
 Thought of Him still and thus ; ' Send,' he said, 
 
 and I sent 
 To the Queen's sire quick : but not the message 
 
 he meant ; 
 For adieu schemes and life, if the two Kings 
 
 combine ; 
 
 And the Word of the Priest (it was truly divine) 
 Came most apt with a few little touches of mine : 
 And the Lord of the West now will scarce inter- 
 vene, 
 Till he knows if his Daughter be still Wife and 
 
 Queen. 
 And yet I, when mine eyes saw the man I deemed 
 
 dead, 
 Would have flung plots away ; I myself would 
 
 have led 
 
 The relief to the pass : and I doubtless had won 
 On the foes' bodies pardon for what had been 
 
 done, 
 
 But for thy malediction, O alien Priest. 
 So then wives are no wives : I care not in the 
 
 least : 
 
52 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 But, behold ! Thou upliftest to home-loving clods 
 A Render of homes, Priest, as thy God of Gods ! 
 And my cue (thanks to you) is no Penitent's part ; 
 But the watchword and gath'ring cry, now, ' Hearth 
 
 and Heart :' 
 And, as all of course see, this sweet Princess, of 
 
 course, 
 
 Now cast off, seeks redress from the Patriot force ! 
 Ah ! Fetich mine, strong was the King ; we were 
 
 weak ; 
 Till Thou gavest the strange God's Priest Th) 
 
 word to speak ! ' 
 
 END OF PART IV. 
 
(3 art V. 
 
 The issue of the Battle ; the royal plume, the emblem 
 of the nation's glory, saved from the foe ; the King's 
 fate. 
 
 ' Flame-lance, javelin, and brand, 
 
 Glance and glow, 
 
 When the Sun-God layeth his hand 
 On the Alp-King's helmet of snow : 
 
 Even so, 
 
 When he toucheth the spirits' core 
 In his own white warrior band, 
 Through the rush of the fray and roar 
 Brand, and javelin, and lance, 
 
 Gleam and glance.' 
 
 Thus in snatches a chief, here and there, as he 
 
 smote, 
 Hand and voice timed together, pealed out the 
 
 war-note, 
 Exulting ; and many, in faint ness and doubt, 
 
54 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And with hearts dumb, yet gave forth their voice 
 
 to the shout, 
 Hoping, still hoping on, that the succours were 
 
 near ; 
 And they listened, but never heard answering 
 
 cheer. 
 As the Pard 'mid the swirling and howl of the 
 
 pack, 
 When his onrush has crippled the wild dogs' 
 
 attack, 
 And they fight falt'ring, dazed by the quick darting 
 
 death, 
 
 Is still for a moment, and glowers gath'ring breath ; 
 And while marking the troop, half in flight, half at 
 
 bay, 
 
 But as ready to fly, feels his strength bleed away. 
 Thus, pausing, the King, through the chasms of 
 
 fight, 
 
 Saw the victory well-nigh his own ; but the sight 
 Was despair ; for his people were wounded and 
 
 spent ; 
 And he knew it was lost : with a half-charge, a 
 
 feint, 
 
 He drew slowly, gloomily, back t' wards the goil : 
 And slowly the waves of the foemen recoil ; 
 Till anon, massing, swelling, the war-surges beat 
 
TIIK WHITE AFRICANS. 55 
 
 Wildly on him ; and still he made good his 
 
 retreat : 
 And the hindmost pressed up through the gorge, 
 
 falling back, 
 And they passed one by one where the crag 
 
 cramped the track, 
 At first slowly ; soon they swarmed, thrust, 
 
 clambered, clung ; 
 Then the crag that though stayed, still half- 
 
 tremblingly hung, 
 With the weight shakes and lurches. A panic-cry 
 
 shrills, 
 
 And as from a trumpet's throat out from the hills 
 Booms, and back with the rush of a battering- 
 ram's stroke, 
 Swung the rear on the vanguard, that shuddered 
 
 and broke ; 
 
 And the bands of the subject black tribe in despair 
 Flung their spears down and fled ; and the right 
 
 wing lay bare. 
 Vain the King's courage, vain was his chiefs' gallant 
 
 stand ; 
 
 Then his voice issuing fell as the flash of a brand 
 On a warrior near : " Rank is rolled upon rank, 
 The retreat is blocked, see the wide rent in the 
 
 flank, 
 
56 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And I fail. But this plume, by our hero-kings 
 
 worn. 
 Must the foe clutch ? and trample, or wear it in 
 
 scorn ? 
 Onwards, deathwards, our warriors dashed where- 
 
 e'er it waved ; 
 Though I die, let our arms' glory's ensign be 
 
 saved ! 
 Take it ; yon rockwall's cranny, there, see, thou 
 
 canst win, 
 
 Even yet, ere the goring horn's stab crashes in ; 
 There a jagged groove leads past their lines round 
 
 the steep ; 
 Hide the plume-crest ; or let the flood take it and 
 
 keep." 
 *Quick the Chief took it, quick his speed's utmost 
 
 he strained ; 
 And another sprang with him : the gap's mouth 
 
 was gained : 
 They slipt, but climbed on ; darts below, and in 
 
 front, 
 And behind, and above, scarred the rock, and fell 
 
 blunt. 
 But they 'scaped ; few pursued ; for with fierce 
 
 snapping cries, 
 
 * England may remember Melville and Coghill at Isandula. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 57 
 
 As the jackal pack presses the quarry that dies, 
 Pressed the mass on the King, and the two chiefs 
 
 sped on. 
 
 Forth they steal on the champaign ; but ever ano:i, 
 When pursuers o'ertake, when fresh foes on the 
 
 way 
 Start from grove or from scarp, must they turn 
 
 them to bay. 
 On his comrade the plume-bearer stricken leans 
 
 hard : 
 They cannot hide, scarcely have strength now to 
 
 guard 
 Their priceless freight tangled their path, foes 
 
 prowl round. 
 But they hear as a friend's cheer the river's call 
 
 sound, 
 And are roused ; though each step is pain, each 
 
 marked with blood, 
 On they force their way through, to where thicket 
 
 and flood 
 Seem to flee a black rock ; one in spleen-maddened 
 
 race, 
 
 And one shrinking tim'rously back a rood's space 
 In a half-ring ; but ere their slow steps touch the 
 
 tide, 
 The thickets' boughs jostle, and shriek, and divide, 
 
58 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Casting forth mingled crest and spear ; sharp came 
 
 the shock ; 
 But they fought, drawing close to the wall of the 
 
 rock, 
 With a strength to themselves strange. The foes 
 
 who lived fled ; 
 
 And they two were alone in a half-ring of dead. 
 Then they gave up their charge to the river's on- 
 
 sweep ; 
 And their work is done : now they may rest them, 
 
 and sleep. 
 Tired they sat 'neath the rock's screen, friend 
 
 leaning on friend, 
 And, as watching the river still ; thus came the end. 
 
 Watchers true ! When ye next hear the trumpet 
 
 wax loud, 
 And behold the God-King on the fire-rolling 
 
 cloud, 
 
 When before Him adoring but fearless ye stand, 
 Ye shall hear His ' Well done,' ye shall take at 
 
 His hand 
 
 The guerdon no earth-king can render you now ! 
 (Save me then, Jesus, Lord.) 
 
TIII-; \YIHTK AFRICANS. 59 
 
 As a bull's twyarmed brow 
 
 Rips and bears down the hazel copse alder and 
 thorn, 
 
 Where a gap points, the white troops were pierced 
 and downborne. 
 
 All man's valour could do even now the King, 
 wrought, 
 
 But his soul pond'ring, doubting thus, whirled as 
 he fought ; 
 
 ' Is it truth, this wreck ? Vict'ry flashed nigh, once, 
 so nigh ! ' 
 
 ' Will the Queen's sire yet strike ? ' ' Ah, the time 
 has flown by ! ' 
 
 4 Wherefore came not the troops ? ' * Was the con- 
 flict too brief?' 
 
 ' Are they coming : too late ? ' ' Is it treason ? ' A 
 chief 
 
 Sprang upon him and fell cleft : and lo ! battle's gyre 
 
 Cast the black Monarch's visage forth, ghastly 
 with ire. 
 
 Quick they closed ; swift and deft, as from war- 
 masters tried, 
 
 Slash and lunge shot, and deftly were stricken 
 aside. 
 
 More than peer to his focman in swordcraft and 
 might, 
 
60 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Yet the white lord was worn by the watch of the 
 
 night, 
 
 By his soul's fret and strain from its first dark- 
 amaze, 
 By the scath of his journey ; his hand or his 
 
 gaze, 
 Swerved a moment ; at once the foe's blade gashed 
 
 his breast. 
 
 As he staggered, in on him his enemy pressed ; 
 Fresh gashes seamed side, breast, wrist; down 
 
 dropped his brand ; 
 
 And he stood all unarmed, scarcely able to stand. 
 Then (as oft times) thoughts least desired drifted 
 
 at will : 
 Must I lose you ? ' his heart cried (his heart and 
 
 limbs thrill), 
 ' Are ye safe, my beloved ? Are we, O Christ, 
 
 cast off?' 
 'Mid the black monarch's hate grisly joy flung the 
 
 scoff; 
 'Ah, I thought to win ; scarce hoped this triumph, 
 
 pale foe.' 
 Straight the doomed face grew rock, and the heart 
 
 rock below; 
 k God Himself gives me strength,' he thought ; 
 
 ' God be my trust.' 
 
TIIK WHITE AFRICANS. 6l 
 
 When, long-delayed, surely-aimed, slow, fell the 
 
 thrust, 
 Not the victim's he wore, but a conqueror's mien. 
 
 As he sank, on his dark'ning eye glanced his sword's 
 
 sheen ; 
 With a warrior's last instinct he reached it was 
 
 near ; 
 And above it (he marked it) lay crossed a snapt 
 
 spear : 
 'Christ's sign?' He breathed. Blood-jets from 
 
 breast and from side 
 Spirted free ; but he touched, clasped it, bowed 
 
 him, and died. 
 
 O'er the Christian Priest's heart, with cyclone-blasts 
 
 of pain, 
 Had the slain King's remembrance swept once and 
 
 again ; 
 But he saw not the slaughter reek, knew not the 
 
 loss 
 That was Christ's, nor his ear heard hell's mock at 
 
 the cross. 
 And the thought fenced his soul as with ramparts 
 
 and towers, 
 
62 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 That at home from his brethren, from all the 
 
 church powers, 
 Would the judgment go forth, ' Good and right 
 
 was thy word ; 
 Thou hast spoken God's truth in the name of the 
 
 Lord ! ' 
 
 Oh ye lords of the heathen's fate, conscience, and 
 
 heart, 
 Jesus said not, He could not say, ' Rend them 
 
 apart ; 
 
 Or fling them as outcasts away from my love ! ' 
 Would you give them a fiend for the God-Man 
 
 above ? 
 Though the Word of the Christ, like the poleaxe's 
 
 swing, 
 
 Keen-bright as its flash, and as sharp as its ring 
 On an idol's trunk, shatters their life to the base, 
 Europe's crowds unabashed flaunt His name to 
 
 His face. 
 
 They covet, defame, defraud, yea, in heart slay, 
 And laugh with adulterous lips : Christ's are They ? 
 Not the King unforsworn ? Not the souls crystal- 
 white, 
 Love-hallowed, law-hallowed, wives pure in God's 
 
 sight ? 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 63 
 
 But the Pashas of souls cry ' Bow down to Our 
 
 laws, 
 Or perish, ye Heathen ! ' Ay, perish, Christ's 
 
 cause ? 
 
 To the Fetich of Europe's traditions they bind, 
 And with thongs curs'd as Pilate's, the Lord of 
 
 Mankind ! 
 
 END OF PART V. 
 
art 
 
 The flight of the Chief of the Guard and Isa ; the fate 
 of the Queen ; Isa in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 UPWARD, trembling, but knowing not aught that 
 
 had chanced, 
 
 Isa fled with her escort, and now had advanced 
 To where, zoned with craig-spears, lay a platform 
 
 of green ; 
 There she stopped, and looked wondering round 
 
 for the Queen. 
 Heaths in patches blazed near, and the buttercup's 
 
 gold ; 
 And forget-me-nots nestled, where o'erarched and 
 
 cold 
 Quired a streamlet, and raced like the cool moun- 
 
 tain blast. 
 While they let her snatch rest scattered groups 
 
 hurried past 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 6$ 
 
 Some with babes, some with goods laden, some 
 
 driving flocks : 
 On the traitor's soul thought after thought smote 
 
 as shocks, 
 ' She is mine now : but, ah, can the King hold the 
 
 glen? 
 
 How I erred in not sending a few hundred men ? 
 Shall I press on, or haste at once back to the 
 
 town, 
 And secure the troops there ? ' Quick he turned 
 
 and hied down. 
 
 While Isa still tarries, there floats up, and strays 
 On the waves of her thoughts' flood a shred of old 
 
 lays: 
 
 1 Blind on the cliff's sheer brow, 
 Blinded with slash of the wind and rain, 
 
 Thou, love thou : 
 I safe on the plain. 
 
 " Back," I beckon and cry ; 
 Nought hearest thou but the storm-sling's hiss ; 
 
 And thine eye 
 Sees not the abyss. 
 
 Oh, would 
 
 That we stood 
 
 E 
 
66 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 With our hands there twin'd, 
 Love, love, though we both were blind ! ' 
 
 He had toiled past the break in the snow-moun- 
 tain's slope. 
 
 Past the tableland ; on to the forest-wrought cope 
 
 Of the hill, to whose waist's arc and half cinctured 
 feet 
 
 Clung the city, square, palace, and temple, and 
 street. 
 
 And he looked from the ridge, forth ; and saw on 
 the plain 
 
 Bands outmoving : He saw that his coming was 
 vain. 
 
 For the chiefs of the garrison dazed by alarms, 
 
 And left without orders, had called them to arms, 
 
 Harangued them, and hastily marched for the fight. 
 
 With a grim gaze he watched ; ere they passed 
 from his sight, 
 
 All the far downs were mottled with swift, scud- 
 ding spots ; 
 
 And o'er the horizon's rim flickering blots 
 
 Followed ever, like strips of clouds flung by a 
 breeze : 
 
 And they chase, blend, and part ; and again chase 
 and seize, 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 67 
 
 And sever ; but some he saw never more stir : 
 And the bands from the town, looming now like a 
 
 blur, 
 Met the on-rushing shades, and were wrapped close, 
 
 and thrilled : 
 And awhile (was it moments or hours ?) all seemed 
 
 stilled 
 
 In the inner gloom's ring to the keen watching eyes ; 
 Then it wavers, and rolls into tatters, and flies. 
 He scanned it, and heart and lip writhed with 
 
 disdain : 
 ' Fools to go forth ! ye ran unto death, and are 
 
 slain ; 
 Fools ! ' he cried. Then his face changed, for lo ! 
 
 a dark core 
 Grew again 'mid the swirl, and right onward it 
 
 bore, 
 As adown the wind's path ; onward yet ; then was 
 
 cleft, 
 And the bulk still came swiftly, part swerved to 
 
 the left 
 And, ' they wheel/ he thought, ' round for the town's 
 
 flank attack ; ' 
 
 No ; too far they break off, and away to the track 
 That by short rocky passes darts upwards, and 
 
 creeps 
 
68 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 In between the first heights and the uppermost 
 
 steeps. 
 As he marked it, his eyes blenched, and fell, and 
 
 below 
 
 They fell on the helpless town waiting the foe, 
 Ruin, outrage, and slaughter, and brought there by 
 
 him ; 
 And they flinched as if scorched, and a moment 
 
 grew dim. 
 Then his own fear slew pity ; and wrath and hate 
 
 rose, 
 And he fled, with a curse, for the Alp-peak of 
 
 snows. 
 
 But nigher, and nigher aye, whirled the storm-rush, 
 Pursuers and fugitives, one madden'd crush, 
 Dashing forward ; on gate and on barrier they 
 
 dash ; 
 The strong breastwork holds not ; the gates sway 
 
 and crash ; 
 The guards break. And death ranges free, street 
 
 by street, 
 Fire and rapine and brute-lust resistless and fleet. 
 
 To her home's porch the Queen had sped ; there 
 stood ; her face 
 
TIIIO WHITE AFRICANS. 69 
 
 Pale and set, but divine in its exquisite grace : 
 Whither, how should she 'scape? With a low 
 
 gasping cry 
 
 She caught at a pillar : ' King, husband, I die ; 
 And in horror unbearable. Where art thou ? 
 
 Where ? ' 
 
 She knew not she cried to the dead. All the air 
 Is a shriek, and a quiver of flame and smoke-surge, 
 And amidst it man-devil-shapes yell, dive, emerge, 
 Scattering javelins and firebrands. She clings and 
 
 is still ; 
 
 Even thus (it is habit perchance more than will), 
 Backward down the mind's dim gulphs her own 
 
 peril flows ; 
 And his fate fills her soul ; and as Self ceased, 
 
 uprose 
 
 Her form's glorious stature erect : not a word 
 Broke the mouth's curve ; her eyes, all life, hunt 
 
 for her lord. 
 
 But far other, yea, and things life-like and swift, 
 Are hunting, and cease not ; and through the 
 
 gloom-drift, 
 Where its folds veer and coil round a red flashing 
 
 hole 
 Skims a chance arrow, swift and straight, choosing 
 
 its goal, 
 
70 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And strikes ; and slides out through the sweep of 
 
 the flank : 
 Wide the blood-sluice gaped, draining her strength ; 
 
 and she sank. 
 A chief, fleeing, paused, and she half-raised her 
 
 head, 
 And murmured, ' The King?' 'Slain!' he cried : 
 
 ' slain ! ' and fled. 
 A dull strange content comes, and numbness of 
 
 pain; 
 And fear and all sorrow swim dream-like and 
 
 vain ; 
 And visions are substance ; the cries and flames' 
 
 roar 
 Are as wind-chants o'er streams; and she meets 
 
 Him once more ! 
 Thus she lay 'midst the havoc, dream-folded, 
 
 serene, 
 Till her soul to the dream's truth passed, ever a 
 
 Queen. 
 
 Her country's betrayer, afar up the height, 
 Vaulted on, clambered on, as a beast mad with 
 fright, 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 7 1 
 
 When a smoke-column shot o'er the town's forest- 
 screen ; 
 And a flaming sword waved where the city had 
 
 been. 
 
 And now on the third bluff above him he views 
 Isa borne by her guards. With caught breath, 
 
 with strained thews, 
 He reached them ; and fiercely he urged them 
 
 along. 
 The road now was choked, but the escort was 
 
 strong ; 
 And they thrust without ruth, and trod down 
 
 young and old ; 
 But now through the hills' sudden sharp break, 
 
 behold ! 
 The foe swarms up, slantways, below them as 
 
 yet: 
 But unclogged is the foe's path, their own way 
 
 beset. 
 Then in fury he struck at the mass ; wound or 
 
 slay, 
 What reck ? " Smite," he yelled, " let the sword 
 
 cleave a way." 
 But minute by minute escape's chance grows 
 
 less ; 
 And Isa's guards wearily rive through the press. 
 
72 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 All else then, all pity, his hope of a hold 
 
 On the kingdom through her, and his love-lust, 
 
 turned cold. 
 " Follow ; leave her ; each look to his own life," he 
 
 cried. 
 Freed, forwards they bounded. 
 
 She, lone 'midst the tide 
 That battled and battered, was dashed to and 
 
 fro, 
 Faint and bruised. With a rush and a war-whoop 
 
 the foe, 
 As the onlift nigh bore her to where the paths 
 
 meet, 
 Streaming o'er the last ledge, charged, and snapt 
 
 the retreat. 
 
 He had hewn his way past, saved his life for a 
 
 time, 
 
 To prey upon foe and friend, blazon his crime ; 
 And die by a traitor's stab. 
 
 Back she was flung ; 
 Then a grasp, trap-like, wrenched her ; a battle-axe 
 
 swung ; 
 She shrieked as it soared and flashed high o'er her 
 
 head. 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 73 
 
 But a random blow struck on the vvielder's neck ; 
 
 dead 
 He fell forward on her; and deathly with 
 
 fright 
 She swooned, and the giant-frame hid her from 
 
 sight. 
 
 . 
 
 Soon the whole space grew silent, and past, and 
 
 away, 
 Up the steeps, down the slopes, sped the slayers to 
 
 slay. 
 All who flee down death reaps ; knot by knot falls 
 
 the rear ; 
 And the hill base is rampired by javelin and 
 
 spear. 
 And the fleers above, frantic, huddled like 
 
 sheep, 
 
 Fall. But lo ! on the track was a small half- 
 fenced keep ; 
 And there, wise as brave, 'mid the wreck of the 
 
 flight, 
 Two youthful chiefs, war-leaders born, lords of 
 
 fight, 
 With a scant hero-band toiled and strengthened 
 
 their post, 
 And fearlessly fronted the conquering host. 
 
74 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And the fierce hordes swing up hour by hour to 
 
 attack, 
 Lashed to fury, and hour after hour are flung 
 
 back; 
 Then in one last, grand charge, flesh-and-blood's 
 
 utmost strain, 
 They are foil'd ; and the vanquish'd are victors 
 
 again. 
 Thus the remnant are saved, and the mountain 
 
 bars close 
 Strong around them, and round them the strength 
 
 of the snows. 
 
 That eve, from the conflict retiring, a chief 
 Mark'd a friend's body, bent down a moment in 
 
 grief, 
 Saw the hand trembling : * Could it be life kept 
 
 its hold ? ' 
 
 He shifted it ; sideways it fell stiff and cold, 
 But beneath lay a face moveless now as the 
 
 slain ; 
 
 He saw it, and instantly knew it again ; 
 For in days of past peace, at the white Monarch's 
 
 court, 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 75 
 
 He had once found a welcome with revel and 
 
 sport ; 
 And had seen her grace glance like the pale 
 
 orchid's light, 
 
 As a foil to her sire's massy sinews, and height, 
 And strong stately front : And the eyes of his 
 
 heart 
 Held the vision, that never, till death, shall 
 
 depart. 
 Quick he caught her up ; there in his arms as a 
 
 child 
 
 Unconscious lay Isa, asleep : once she smiled, 
 Dreaming other arms held her. He carried her 
 
 down : 
 
 In a cactus-brake's gap close below the knoll- 
 crown, 
 Where, watching the battle, the traitor had 
 
 stood, 
 He laid her. And straight hurried on through 
 
 the wood ; 
 
 For he dared not delay his report to the King : 
 But he never returned : for a lurking foe's spring 
 From a covert sped true as the poised python's 
 
 own : 
 Then the slayer's eyes gloat where his hacked 
 
 corpse is thrown. 
 
76 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 In the dawn Isa woke, rose still dazed from her 
 
 swoon, 
 Pluck'd some berries and ate, and then rested ; but 
 
 soon, 
 While she traced out the dim-felt woe, how it 
 
 befell, 
 All the hillside and wood echoed, yell answering 
 
 yell: 
 
 Plunging into each thicket, each tuft, as a hound, 
 Ranged the foe : they are close ; they leap in ; she 
 
 is found. 
 
 END OF PART VI. 
 
Isa's doom ; the day of the sacrifice : Then the glad final meeting 
 beyond death. Heaven is gained, and neither wife lost. 
 
 Tusk-like teeth, eyeballs red as the faces fresh 
 
 gashed, 
 
 And lithe ebon limbs ochre-streaked, and gore- 
 splashed, 
 Thronged around : * To the spoil-givers give ye 
 
 the dues,' 
 Bayed a voice as a dog's. 'The quick eye, the 
 
 strong thews/ 
 
 Thus a chief cried with roar of a chafed buffalo, 
 1 Give the spoils, or wouldst deify spear-staff and 
 
 bow?' 
 Fierce and instant the counter-yell : * Have gods 
 
 ye must : 
 And the god that is strongest of all gods is 
 
 Lust! 
 
/8 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 And his let her be : His!' 
 
 (The howl shrills and grows.) 
 Isa's brain spikes of fire, Isa's body chill throes, 
 Pierced, and rent, and benumbed ; and her eyes 
 
 waxed and froze. 
 
 And her spirit's self seemed to be lost, rapt away, 
 In the stress of her anguish of prayer : ' Save or 
 
 slay ; 
 O my God, hear.' She felt nought ; she knew 
 
 nought but this, 
 Though they held her, and mocked. Then a 
 
 cobra-like hiss 
 Cleft and startled the pack ; for the words were the 
 
 King's : 
 We are strong, lust is stronger, Death strongest of 
 
 things. 
 And he, time's high monarch, has given us this 
 
 hour. 
 Ask ye yon bleeding head unto whom went its 
 
 power ? 
 Unto Death. Let us give then to Death for his 
 
 grace, 
 This, the crushed nation's choicest in mien and 
 
 in place. 
 Back ; let none henceforth touch her ; no, not 
 
 with a breath 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 79 
 
 She is Death's ; and who touches her now touches 
 
 Death.' 
 ' God has heard her/ her heart cried. 
 
 Then they led her away, 
 
 Down afar to a strange land, and still, day by 
 day, 
 
 Though the dense heat-damps wrapped her, close- 
 clinging to press 
 
 The life's spirit out (oh for one, one caress 
 
 Of the snow-mountain's breeze, crisp, and joyous, 
 and swift), 
 
 Though in darkness her soul seemed to swoon and 
 to drift ; 
 
 Yet, for aye, 'mid the storm-bursts of sorrow and 
 dread, 
 
 Shone the thought, * God has heard ; pure I go to 
 my dead.' 
 
 They who joy over ruin, as bridegroom o'er bride, 
 Through deserts, through spume-wreaths of 
 
 pestilence, glide, 
 O'er the land's length and breadth ; it is theirs 
 
 wholly now ! 
 
80 THE WHITE AFRICANS 
 
 Save the refuge-ring drawn round the snow- 
 mountain's brow. 
 
 Not a herd is left ; no living soul now ; the steed 
 
 Has been slain as an ill thing, a half-demon 
 breed ; 
 
 All the homesteads are ashes, all crops ; the woods 
 burn ; 
 
 Scream of prey-bird and beast tracks the victors' 
 return. 
 
 But at home peals a realm's voice in triumph and 
 praise ; 
 
 And the day of the sacrifice crowns the joy-days ! 
 
 The victim comes down the troops' deep double 
 
 ranks, 
 In whose rear human streams sway and plunge on 
 
 their banks 
 Flood-like, on she is led and the roar and the 
 
 swell 
 
 Confuse her and stun ; and it surely is well, 
 Well that ear should not hear, or eye see, or brain 
 
 think. 
 From her one simple vesture's snow blushed 
 
 lily-pink 
 Arms, and shoulders, and ankles; her forehead 
 
 was rayed 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 8 I 
 
 By a tress, whose gold links and brown blent in 
 
 one braid ; 
 
 And, save that beneath it a soft ringlet strayed, 
 All her hair thrown back flowed down beyond her 
 
 robe's hem. 
 At her side soared a moment a young palm-tree's 
 
 stem, 
 Bending t'wards her, and o'er her its tender fronds 
 
 hung. 
 As its fay's self she seemed, graceful, drooping, and 
 
 young. 
 
 Then at tymbal's and horn's larum-crash the voice- 
 clang 
 Smitten fell, and the chant of the Priests, as they 
 
 sang, 
 Gathered in on her, broken in parts, partly 
 
 clear ; 
 
 But the close rang distinct, bringing thought back 
 and fear. 
 
 ' By the knife, and the fire, 
 
 Take the prize unto thee ; 
 To thine ire, 
 Or desire, 
 
 Whichsoever it be ; 
 Strong King, Thou manifold Power ! 
 She is Thine, oh Death, to deflower ; 
 F 
 
82 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 She is Thine, if Thou wilt, to devour ; 
 
 Or to keep as Thine own, and forever, 
 Seeing none may draw near to gainsay or 
 deliver.' 
 
 Horror-led she had searched all death's agony 
 
 through, 
 Oft, how oft ; but not this ! Not this fear-spectre 
 
 new, 
 Living Death ! Shall it watch flesh and soul 
 
 shrink and part, 
 Shall the live reaching arms, and the ghastly live 
 
 heart 
 Take her fresh from the slaughter-knife, cowering, 
 
 a prey, 
 Rent from love, to be lone with this foul thing, for 
 
 aye ? 
 ' No escape,' she moaned, shudd'ring, ' no hope : I 
 
 was saved 
 Once ! He saved me ! how god-like he looked, 
 
 when he braved 
 Idol, Priests, and mob : Death in his eyes flamed 
 
 and life. 
 But they met mine love-hued. His I was, prize, 
 
 and wife, 
 And possession ; all his. Ah ! not his now. And he ? 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 83 
 
 Is he captive or slain ? Were he living and 
 
 free 
 
 He would win to me even yet, save me or die. 
 Then, as frenzied, as though it could be, with 
 
 a cry, 
 She flashed her gaze round. Myriad faces of 
 
 hate, 
 And of joy she saw ; then on the mid-temple 
 
 gate, 
 She beheld, black and eyeless, His head, whom she 
 
 sought ! 
 Voice and soul, ere she shrieked, sank : and all 
 
 was as nought. 
 
 They held her, and forward bore ; beam by beam 
 creeps 
 
 The soul's light back trembling amid the gloom- 
 deeps ; 
 
 And the words, ' God has heard,' woke, and pulsed 
 in her brain, 
 
 Ever wild'ringly on, as a half-caught refrain. 
 
 And she raised herself up. 
 
 With such grace, with such eyes, 
 Might some star-child, down-strayed, in her dawn 
 of surprise, 
 
84 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Look, and seeing perceive not what these earth- 
 scenes are, 
 
 Until thought grows, and pain for her lost home 
 afar. 
 
 A hand's sudden grasp on the bright rippling 
 
 hair 
 Drew the head back ; the white throat shone out 
 
 round and bare ; 
 Then a hand gliding wheeled with a turn of the 
 
 wrist ; 
 And the knife, as it turned, ah ! the cruel sun 
 
 kist! 
 
 As a babe shudders touched by the font's water- 
 plash, 
 Shrank the soft woman's flesh at the cold edge's 
 
 gash: 
 But, gently stilled, soon the babe's limb-throb is 
 
 o'er ; 
 And soon, yea and gently, her chrism of gore. 
 
 Throne-like glitters the great flame's breast, 
 
 Amber, and azure, and red ; 
 What rosebed can vie with its splendour ? 
 
 What Queen's marriage-bed ? 
 
THE WHITE AFRICANS. 85 
 
 Yea, these lie pulseless, opaque, 
 
 Deathlily cold, 
 
 But the flame's clear bosom heaves, rife 
 With a free, strong, surging of life, 
 With passion thirst uncontrolled, 
 That never possession's self, destruction alone, can 
 slake. 
 
 Slowly they lift, they cast the slight limbs 
 
 Full on the altar-pyre ; 
 An instant gleamed statue-like beauty 
 
 Pale through the flush of the fire. 
 Fire that shall one day wrap 
 
 The sin-spotted body of earth, 
 Till it rise, as it rose not from washing of 
 waters, 
 
 New in immortal birth. 
 Never lip-froth or slime of the crawling worm, 
 
 Never taint of the foul dank mould, 
 Nor loathly decay, shall dishonour that form : 
 
 Amid incorruptible gold, 
 Dazzling, 'mid voice of acclaim, priests' chant, and 
 
 the incense-roll, 
 
 Growing into the radiance of light, 
 Transfigured, it melted from sight, 
 
 Viewless and pure as the soul. 
 
86 THE WHITE AFRICANS. 
 
 Afar in the kingdom oft dreamt of, 
 
 Oft seen by faith's cloud-cleaving glance, 
 But pressed with the footfall of flesh by two only, 
 
 Stood she as wakened from trance, 
 Safe, and for ever, 
 
 In Christ's own land. 
 Earth's grace's excellence, fresh from God's hand , 
 
 Land-charm, and stream-shine, and brilliance of 
 
 skies, 
 Blending, were blurs to the glory of beauteousness 
 
 Suddenly flung on her spirit and eyes. 
 
 Fair as the opal's beams, 
 Bright'ning to diamond gleams, 
 
 Softly the river 
 Sang the life-song. 
 
 Mortals had quailed at the beauty's strange 
 
 perfectness ; 
 She, to whose being perfections belong, 
 
 Found there her rest. Spirit-voices of melody 
 Came on the winglets of spice-scented breath, 
 
 Earthly sense never knew sweetness so subtly 
 
 sweet ; 
 Yea, could it know, very sweetness were death. 
 
 Shimmer'd and brake into beryl the life-tree's 
 emqrald shade-depths, 
 
TIIK \\1HTK AFRICANS. 8/ 
 
 Lustred by forms where Elohim's Shechina-rays 
 
 fell and abide : 
 Thus once again, past the veil of earth's blindness, 
 
 the glare of death's horror, 
 Met they, bliss-filled, as creation is filled with its 
 
 swift ether tide ; 
 Three ever one in the Triune Jehovah, love-crown'd, 
 
 deified. 
 
 F I N I S. 
 
 COLSTON AND SON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
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