Allan and the Holy Flower eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 436 pages of information about Allan and the Holy Flower.

At this point I too went away, nor did I ever ask what became of Hassan and his fellow-captives.  Moreover, whenever any of the natives or Hans tried to inform me, I bade them hold their tongues.


I have little more to add to this record, which I fear has grown into quite a long book.  Or, at any rate, although the setting of it down has amused me during the afternoons and evenings of this endless English winter, now that the spring is come again I seem to have grown weary of writing.  Therefore I shall leave what remains untold to the imagination of anyone who chances to read these pages.

We were victorious, and had indeed much cause for gratitude who still lived to look upon the sun.  Yet the night that followed the Battle of the Gate was a sad one, at least for me, who felt the death of my friend the foresighted hero, Mavovo, of the bombastic but faithful Sammy, and of my brave hunters more than I can say.  Also the old Zulu’s prophecy concerning me, that I too should die in battle, weighed upon me, who seemed to have seen enough of such ends in recent days and to desire one more tranquil.

Living here in peaceful England as I do now, with no present prospect of leaving it, it does not appear likely that it will be fulfilled.  Yet, after my experience of the divining powers of Mavovo’s “Snake”—­ well, those words of his make me feel uncomfortable.  For when all is said and done, who can know the future?  Moreover, it is the improbable that generally happens[*]

[*] As the readers of “Allan Quatermain” will be aware, this prophecy
    of the dying Zulu was fulfilled.  Mr. Quatermain died at Zuvendis
    as a result of the wound he received in the battle between the
    armies of the rival Queens.—­Editor.

Further, the climatic conditions were not conducive to cheerfulness, for shortly after sunset it began to rain and poured for most of the night, which, as we had little shelter, was inconvenient both to us and to all the hundreds of the homeless Mazitu.

However, the rain ceased in due time, and on the following morning the welcome sun shone out of a clear sky.  When we had dried and warmed ourselves a little in its rays, someone suggested that we should visit the burned-out town where, except for some smouldering heaps that had been huts, the fire was extinguished by the heavy rain.  More from curiosity than for any other reason I consented and accompanied by Bausi, Babemba and many of the Mazitu, all of us, except Brother John, who remained behind to attend to the wounded, climbed over the debris of the south gate and walked through the black ruins of the huts, across the market-place that was strewn with dead, to what had been our own quarters.

These were a melancholy sight, a mere heap of sodden and still smoking ashes.  I could have wept when I looked at them, thinking of all the trade goods and stores that were consumed beneath, necessities for the most part, the destruction of which must make our return journey one of great hardship.

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Allan and the Holy Flower from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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