Finished

Rider Haggard H.

Description

The third installment in H. Rider Haggard's Zulu trilogy, Finished is a detailed historical account of the decline of the once-mighty Zulu nation, recounted from the perspective of globe-trotting adventurer Allan Quatermain. From the thrill of the safari to battlefield play-by-plays, this novel will not disappoint fans of the classic action-adventure genre.

Sujets

• Adventure
• Adventure (Guyana)

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juin 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775459521
• Langue: English

Extrait

FINISHED
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H. RIDER HAGGARD
 
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Finished First published in 1917 ISBN 978-1-77545-952-1 © 2012 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Dedication Introduction Chapter I - Allan Quatermain Meets Anscombe Chapter II - Mr. Marnham Chapter III - The Hunters Hunted Chapter IV - Doctor Rodd Chapter V - A Game of Cards Chapter VI - Miss Heda Chapter VII - The Stoep Chapter VIII - Rodd's Last Card Chapter IX - Flight Chapter X - Nombe Chapter XI - Zikali Chapter XII - Trapped Chapter XIII - Cetewayo Chapter XIV - The Valley of Bones Chapter XV - The Great Council Chapter XVI - War Chapter XVII - Kaatje Brings News Chapter XVIII - Isandhlwana Chapter XIX - Allan Awakes Chapter XX - Heda's Tale Chapter XXI - The King Visits Zikali Chapter XXII - The Madness of Nombe Chapter XXIII - The Kraal Jazi Endnotes
Dedication
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Ditchingham House, Norfolk,May, 1917.
My dear Roosevelt,—
You are, I know, a lover of old Allan Quatermain, one whounderstands and appreciates the views of life and the aspirationsthat underlie and inform his manifold adventures.
Therefore, since such is your kind wish, in memory of certainhours wherein both of us found true refreshment and companionshipamidst the terrible anxieties of the World's journey along thatbloodstained road by which alone, so it is decreed, the pure Peakof Freedom must be scaled, I dedicate to you this tale telling ofthe events and experiences of my youth.
Your sincere friend,
H. RIDER HAGGARD.
To COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT,Sagamore Hill, U.S.A.
Introduction
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This book, although it can be read as a separate story, is thethird of the trilogy of which Marie and Child of Storm arethe first two parts. It narrates, through the mouth of AllanQuatermain, the consummation of the vengeance of the wizardZikali, alias The Opener of Roads, or"The-Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born," upon the royal ZuluHouse of which Senzangacona was the founder and Cetewayo, ourenemy in the war of 1879, the last representative who ruled as aking. Although, of course, much is added for the purposes ofromance, the main facts of history have been adhered to with somefaithfulness.
With these the author became acquainted a full generation ago,Fortune having given him a part in the events that preceded theZulu War. Indeed he believes that with the exception of ColonelPhillips, who, as a lieutenant, commanded the famous escort oftwenty-five policemen, he is now the last survivor of the partywho, under the leadership of Sir Theophilus Shepstone, or Sompseuas the natives called him from the Zambesi to the Cape, wereconcerned in the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877. Recentlyalso he has been called upon as a public servant to revisit SouthAfrica and took the opportunity to travel through Zululand, inorder to refresh his knowledge of its people, their customs,their mysteries, and better to prepare himself for the writing ofthis book. Here he stood by the fatal Mount of Isandhlawanawhich, with some details of the battle, is described in thesepages, among the graves of many whom once he knew, ColonelsDurnford, Pulleine and others. Also he saw Ulundi's plain wherethe traces of war still lie thick, and talked with an old Zuluwho fought in the attacking Impi until it crumbled away beforethe fire of the Martinis and shells from the heavy guns. Thebattle of the Wall of Sheet Iron, he called it, perhaps becauseof the flashing fence of bayonets.
Lastly, in a mealie patch, he found the spot on which the corngrows thin, where King Cetewayo breathed his last, poisonedwithout a doubt, as he has known for many years. It is to beseen at the Kraal, ominously named Jazi or, translated intoEnglish, "Finished." The tragedy happened long ago, but even nowthe quiet-faced Zulu who told the tale, looking about him as hespoke, would not tell it all. "Yes, as a young man, I was thereat the time, but I do not remember, I do not know—the InkoosiLundanda (i.e., this Chronicler, so named in past years by theZulus) stands on the very place where the king died—His bed wason the left of the door-hole of the hut," and so forth, but nocertain word as to the exact reason of this sudden and violentdeath or by whom it was caused. The name of that destroyer of aking is for ever hid.
In this story the actual and immediate cause of the declarationof war against the British Power is represented as the appearanceof the white goddess, or spirit of the Zulus, who is, or was,called Nomkubulwana or Inkosazana-y-Zulu, i.e., the Princess ofHeaven. The exact circumstances which led to this decision arenot now ascertainable, though it is known that there was muchdifference of opinion among the Zulu Indunas or great captains,and like the writer, many believe that King Cetewayo waspersonally averse to war against his old allies, the English.
The author's friend, Mr. J. Y. Gibson, at present therepresentative of the Union in Zululand, writes in his admirablehistory: "There was a good deal of discussion amongst theassembled Zulu notables at Ulundi, but of how counsel was swayedit is not possible now to obtain a reliable account."
The late Mr. F. B. Fynney, F.R.G.S., who also was his friend indays bygone, and, with the exception of Sir Theophilus Shepstone,who perhaps knew the Zulus and their language better than anyother official of his day, speaking of this fabled goddess wrote:"I remember that just before the Zulu War Nomkubulwana appearedrevealing something or other which had a great effect throughoutthe land."
The use made of this strange traditional Guardian Angel in thefollowing tale is not therefore an unsupported flight of fancy,and the same may be said of many other incidents, such as theaccount of the reading of the proclamation annexing the Transvaalat Pretoria in 1877, which have been introduced to serve thepurposes of the romance.
Mameena, who haunts its pages, in a literal as well as figurativesense, is the heroine of Child of Storm, a book to which shegave her own poetic title.
1916.THE AUTHOR.
Chapter I - Allan Quatermain Meets Anscombe
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You, my friend, into whose hand, if you live, I hope thesescribblings of mine will pass one day, must well remember the12th of April of the year 1877 at Pretoria. Sir TheophilusShepstone, or Sompseu, for I prefer to call him by his nativename, having investigated the affairs of the Transvaal for acouple of months or so, had made up his mind to annex thatcountry to the British Crown. It so happened that I, AllanQuatermain, had been on a shooting and trading expedition at theback of the Lydenburg district where there was plenty of game tobe killed in those times. Hearing that great events were towardI made up my mind, curiosity being one of my weaknesses, to comeround by Pretoria, which after all was not very far out of myway, instead of striking straight back to Natal. As it chanced Ireached the town about eleven o'clock on this very morning of the12th of April and, trekking to the Church Square, proceeded tooutspan there, as was usual in the Seventies. The place was fullof people, English and Dutch together, and I noted that theformer seemed very elated and were talking excitedly, while thelatter for the most part appeared to be sullen and depressed.
Presently I saw a man I knew, a tall, dark man, a very goodfellow and an excellent shot, named Robinson. By the way youknew him also, for afterwards he was an officer in the PretoriaHorse at the time of the Zulu war, the corps in which you held acommission. I called to him and asked what was up.
"A good deal, Allan," he said as he shook my hand. "Indeed weshall be lucky if all isn't up, or something like it, before theday is over. Shepstone's Proclamation annexing the Transvaal isgoing to be read presently."
I whistled and asked,
"How will our Boer friends take it? They don't look verypleased."
"That's just what no one knows, Allan. Burgers the President issquared, they say. He is to have a pension; also he thinks itthe only thing to be done. Most of the Hollanders up here don'tlike it, but I doubt whether they will put out their handsfurther than they can draw them back. The question is—what willbe the line of the Boers themselves? There are a lot of themabout, all armed, you see, and more outside the town."
"What do you think?"
"Can't tell you. Anything may happen. They may shoot Shepstoneand his staff and the twenty-five policemen, or they may justgrumble and go home. Probably they have no fixed plan."
"How about the English?"
"Oh! we are all crazy with joy, but of course there is noorganization and many have no arms. Also there are only a few ofus."
"Well," I answered, "I came here to look for excitement, lifehaving been dull for me of late, and it seems that I have foundit. Still I bet you those Dutchmen do nothing, except protest.They are slim and know that the shooting of an unarmed missionwould bring England on their heads."
"Can't say, I am sure. They like Shepstone who understands them,and the move is so bold that it takes their breath away. But asthe Kaffirs say, when a strong wind blows a small spark will makethe whole veld burn. It just depends upon whether the spark isthere. If an Englishman and a Boer began to fight for instance,anything might happen. Goodbye, I have got a message to deliver.If things go right we might dine at the European tonight, and ifthey don't, goodness knows where we shall dine."
I nodded sagely and he departed. Then I went to my wagon