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This etext was prepared by Christopher Hapka, Sunnyvale, California
Digital Editor's Note:
Italics are represented in the text with _underscores_. In the interest of readability, where italics are used to indicate non-English words, I have silently omitted them or replaced them with quotation marks.
Haggard's spelling, especially of Zulu terms, is wildly inconsistent; likewise his capitalization, especially of Zulu terms. For example, Masapo is the chief of the Amansomi until chapter IX; thereafter his tribe is consistently referred to as the "Amasomi". In general, I have retained Haggard's spellings. Some obvious spelling mistakes (as "Quartermain" for "Quatermain" in one instance) have been silently corrected.
Some diacriticals in the text could not be represented in 7-bit ASCII text and have been approximated here. To restore all formatting, do the following throughout the text:
Replace the pound symbol "#" with the English pound symbol Place an acute accent over the "e" in "Nombe", "acces", "Amawombe", and "fiance", and the first "e" in "Bayete" Place a circumflex accent over the "u" in "Harut" and the "o" in "role" Place a grave accent over the "a" and circumflex accents over the first and third "e" in "tete-a-tete" Replace "oe" with the oe ligature in "manoeuvring"
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by H. RIDER HAGGARD
DEDICATION
Ditchingham House, Norfolk, May, 1917.
My dear Roosevelt,--
You are, I know, a lover of old Allan Quatermain, one who understands and appreciates the views of life and the aspirations that underlie and inform his manifold adventures.
Therefore, since such is your kind wish, in memory of certain hours wherein both of us found true refreshment and companionship amidst the terrible anxieties of the World's journey along that bloodstained road by which alone, so it is decreed, the pure Peak of Freedom must be scaled, I dedicate to you this tale telling of the events and experiences of my youth.
Your sincere friend,
H. RIDER HAGGARD.
To COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Sagamore Hill, U.S.A.
CONTENTS:
I. ALLAN QUATERMAIN MEETS ANSCOMBE II. MR. MARNHAM III. THE HUNTERS HUNTED IV. DOCTOR RODD V. A GAME OF CARDS VI. MISS HEDA VII. THE STOEP VIII. RODD'S LAST CARD IX. FLIGHT X. NOMBE XI. ZIKALI XII. TRAPPED XIII. CETEWAYO XIV. THE VALLEY OF BONES XV. THE GREAT COUNCIL XVI. WAR XVII. KAATJE BRINGS NEWS XVIII. ISANDHLWANA XIX. ALLAN AWAKES XX. HEDA'S TALE XXI. THE KING VISITS ZIKALI XXII. THE MADNESS OF NOMBE XXIII. THE KRAAL JAZI
INTRODUCTION
This book, although it can be read as a separate story, is the third of the trilogy of which _Marie_ and _Child of Storm_ are the first two parts. It narrates, through the mouth of Allan Quatermain, the consummation of the vengeance of the wizard Zikali, alias The Opener of Roads, or "The-Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born," upon the royal Zulu House of which Senzangacona was the founder and Cetewayo, our enemy in the war of 1879, the last representative who ruled as a king. Although, of course, much is added for the purposes of romance, the main facts of history have been adhered to with some faithfulness.
With these the author became acquainted a full generation ago, Fortune having given him a part in the events that preceded the Zulu War. Indeed he believes that with the exception of Colonel Phillips, who, as a lieutenant, commanded the famous escort of twenty-five policemen, he is now the last survivor of the party who, under the leadership of Sir Theophilus Shepstone, or Sompseu as the natives called him from the Zambesi to the Cape, were concerned in the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877. Recently also he has been called upon as a public servant to revisit South Africa and took the opportunity to travel through Zululand, in order to refresh his knowledge of its people, their customs, their mysteries, and better to prepare himself for the writing of this book. Here he stood by the fatal Mount of Isandhlawana which, with some details of the battle, is described in these pages, among the graves of many whom once he knew, Colonels Durnford, Pulleine and others. Also he saw Ulundi's plain where the traces of war still lie thick, and talked with an old Zulu who fought in the attacking Impi until it crumbled away before the fire of the Martinis and shells from the heavy guns. The battle of the Wall of Sheet Iron, he called it, perhaps because of the flashing fence of bayonets.
