Allan's Wife

by H. Rider Haggard

This was odd enough, but as I had seen the same thing happen before it did not particularly astonish me. It is by no means unusual in Africa for two thunderstorms to come up at the same time from different points of the compass.

“You had better get on, Indaba-zimbi,” I said, “the big storm is coming along fast, and will soon eat up that baby of yours,” and I pointed to the west.

“Babies sometimes grow to giants, white man,” said Indaba-zimbi, beckoning away vigorously. “Look now at my cloud-child.”

I looked; the eastern storm was spreading itself from earth to sky, and in shape resembled an enormous man. There was its head, its shoulders, and its legs; yes, it was like a huge giant travelling across the heavens. The light of the setting sun escaping from beneath the lower edge of the western storm shot across the intervening space in a sheet of splendour, and, lighting upon the advancing figure of cloud, wrapped its middle in hues of glory too wonderful to be described; but beneath and above this glowing belt his feet and head were black as jet. Presently, as I watched, an awful flash of light shot from the head of the cloud, circled it about as though with a crown of living fire, and vanished.

“Aha,” chuckled old Indaba-zimbi, “my little boy is putting on his man’s ring,” and he tapped the gum ring on his own head, which natives assume when they reach a certain age and dignity. “Now, white man, unless you are a bigger wizard than either of us you had better clear off, for the fire-fight is about to begin.”

I thought this sound advice.

“Good luck go with you, my black uncle,” I said. “I hope you don’t feel the iniquities of a mis-spent life weighing on you at the last.”

“You look after yourself, and think of your own sins, young man,” he answered, with a grim smile, and taking a pinch of snuff, while at that very moment a flash of lightning, I don’t know from which storm, struck the ground within thirty paces of me. That was enough for me, I took to my heels, and as I went I heard old Indaba-zimbi’s dry chuckle of amusement.

I climbed the hill till I came to where the chief was sitting with his indunas, or headmen, and sat down near to him. I looked at the man’s face and saw that he was intensely anxious for his son’s safety, and by no means confident of the young man’s powers to resist the magic of Indaba-zimbi. He was talking in a low voice to the induna next to him. I affected to take no notice and to be concentrating my attention on the novel scene before me; but in those days I had very quick ears, and caught the drift of the conversation.

“Hearken!” the chief was saying, “if the magic of Indaba-zimbi prevails against my son I will endure him no more. Of this I am sure, that when he has slain my son he will slay me, me also, and make himself chief in my place. I fear Indaba-zimbi. Ou!”