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pubOne.info present you this new edition. who "bound all to her" and, while her father cut his way through the hordes of the Ingobo Regiment, perished of the hardships of war at Buluwayo on 19th May, 1896, I dedicate these tales- and more particularly the last, that of a Faith which triumphed over savagery and death.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819943754
Langue	English

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ELISSA
OR THE DOOM OF ZIMBABWE
by H. Rider Haggard
DEDICATION
To the Memory of the Child
Nada Burnham,
who “bound all to her” and, while her father cut hisway through the hordes of the Ingobo Regiment, perished of thehardships of war at Buluwayo on 19th May, 1896, I dedicate thesetales— and more particularly the last, that of a Faith whichtriumphed over savagery and death.
H. Rider Haggard.
Ditchingham.
AUTHOR'S NOTE Of the three stories that comprisethis volume [*] , one, “The Wizard, ” a tale ofvictorious faith, first appeared some years ago as a ChristmasAnnual. Another, “Elissa, ” is an attempt, difficult enough owingto the scantiness of the material left to us by time, to recreatethe life of the ancient Phoenician Zimbabwe, whose ruins stillstand in Rhodesia, and, with the addition of the necessary lovestory, to suggest circumstances such as might have brought about oraccompanied its fall at the hands of the surrounding savage tribes.The third, “Black Heart and White Heart, ” is a story of thecourtship, trials and final union of a pair of Zulu lovers in thetime of King Cetywayo.
[*] This text was prepared from avolume published in 1900
titled “Black Heart and White Heart, and OtherStories. ”—
JB.
NOTE The world is full of ruins, but few of themhave an origin so utterly lost in mystery as those of Zimbabwe inSouth Central Africa. Who built them? What purpose did they serve?These are questions that must have perplexed many generations, andmany different races of men.
The researches of Mr. Wilmot prove to us indeed thatin the Middle Ages Zimbabwe or Zimboe was the seat of a barbarousempire, whose ruler was named the Emperor of Monomotapa, also thatfor some years the Jesuits ministered in a Christian church builtbeneath the shadow of its ancient towers. But of the originalpurpose of those towers, and of the race that reared them, theinhabitants of mediæval Monomotapa, it is probable, knew less eventhan we know to-day. The labours and skilled observation of thelate Mr. Theodore Bent, whose death is so great a loss to allinterested in such matters, have shown almost beyond question thatZimbabwe was once an inland Phoenician city, or at the least a citywhose inhabitants were of a race which practised Phoenician customsand worshipped the Phoenician deities. Beyond this all isconjecture. How it happened that a trading town, protected by vastfortifications and adorned with temples dedicated to the worship ofthe gods of the Sidonians— or rather trading towns, for Zimbabwe isonly one of a group of ruins— were built by civilised men in theheart of Africa perhaps we shall never learn with certainty, thoughthe discovery of the burying-places of their inhabitants mightthrow some light upon the problem.
But if actual proof is lacking, it is scarcely to bedoubted— for the numerous old workings in Rhodesia tell their owntale— that it was the presence of payable gold reefs worked byslave labour which tempted the Phoenician merchants and chapmen,contrary to their custom, to travel so far from the sea andestablish themselves inland. Perhaps the city Zimboe was the Ophirspoken of in the first Book of Kings. At least, it is almostcertain that its principal industries were the smelting and thesale of gold, also it seems probable that expeditions travelling bysea and land would have occupied quite three years of time inreaching it from Jerusalem and returning thither laden with thegold and precious stones, the ivory and the almug trees (1 Kings x.). Journeying in Africa must have been slow in those days; that itwas also dangerous is testified by the ruins of the ancient fortsbuilt to protect the route between the gold towns and the sea.
However these things may be, there remains ampleroom for speculation both as to the dim beginnings of the ancientcity and its still dimmer end, whereof we can guess only, when itbecame weakened by luxury and the mixture of races, that hordes ofinvading savages stamped it out of existence beneath theirblood-stained feet, as, in after ages, they stamped out the Empireof Monomotapa. In the following romantic sketch the writer hasventured— no easy task— to suggest incidents such as might haveaccompanied this first extinction of the Phoenician Zimbabwe. Thepursuit indeed is one in which he can only hope to fill the placeof a humble pioneer, since it is certain that in times to come thedead fortress-temples of South Africa will occupy the pens of manygenerations of the writers of romance who, as he hopes, may havemore ascertained facts to build upon than are available to-day.
ELISSA
CHAPTER I
THE CARAVAN
The sun, which shone upon a day that was gathered tothe past some three thousand years ago, was setting in full gloryover the expanses of south-eastern Africa— the Libya of theancients. Its last burning rays fell upon a cavalcade of weary men,who, together with long strings of camels, asses and oxen, aftermuch toil had struggled to the crest of a line of stony hills,where they were halted to recover breath. Before them lay a plain,clothed with sere yellow grass— for the season was winter— andbounded by mountains of no great height, upon whose slopes stoodthe city which they had travelled far to seek. It was the ancientcity of Zimboe, whereof the lonely ruins are known to us moderns asZimbabwe.
At the sight of its flat-roofed houses of sun-driedbrick, set upon the side of the opposing hill, and dominated by ahuge circular building of dark stone, the caravan raised a greatshout of joy. It shouted in several tongues, in the tongues ofPhoenicia, of Egypt, of the Hebrews, of Arabia, and of the coastsof Africa, for all these peoples were represented amongst itsnumbers. Well might the wanderers cry out in their delight, seeingthat at length, after eight months of perilous travelling from thecoast, they beheld the walls of their city of rest, of the goldenOphir of the Bible. Their company had started from the easternport, numbering fifteen hundred men, besides women and children,and of those not more than half were left alive. Once a savagetribe had ambushed them, killing many. Once the pestilential feverof the low lands had taken them so that they died of it by scores.Twice also had they suffered heavily through hunger and thirst, tosay nothing of their losses by the fangs of lions, crocodiles, andother wild beasts which with the country swarmed. Now their toilswere over; and for six months, or perhaps a year, they might restand trade in the Great City, enjoying its wealth, its flesh-pots,and the unholy orgies which, among people of the Phoenician race,were dignified by the name of the worship of the gods ofheaven.
Soon the clamour died away, and although no commandwas given, the caravan started on at speed. All weariness fadedfrom the faces of the wayworn travellers, even the very camels andasses, shrunk, as most of them were, to mere skeletons, seemed tounderstand that labour and blows were done with, and forgettingtheir loads, shambled unurged down the stony path. One manlingered, however. Clearly he was a person of rank, for eight orten attendants surrounded him.
“Go, ” said he, “I wish to be alone, and will followpresently. ” So they bowed to the earth, and went.
The man was young, perhaps six or eight and twentyyears of age. His dark skin, burnt almost to blackness by the heatof the sun, together with the fashion of his short, square-cutbeard and of his garments, proclaimed him of Jewish or Egyptianblood, while the gold collar about his neck and the gold gravenring upon his hand showed that his rank was high. Indeed thiswanderer was none other than the prince Aziel, nick-named theEver-living, because of a curious mole upon his shoulder bearing aresemblance to the crux ansata , the symbol of life eternalamong the Egyptians. By blood he was a grandson of Solomon, themighty king of Israel, and born of a royal mother, a princess ofEgypt.
In stature Aziel was tall, but somewhat slimly made,having small bones. His face was oval in shape, the features,especially the mouth, being fine and sensitive; the eyes werelarge, dark, and full of thought— the eyes of a man with a destiny.For the most part, indeed, they were sombre and over-full ofthought, but at times they could light up with a strange fire.
Aziel the prince placed his hand against hisforehead in such fashion as to shade his face from the rays of thesetting sun, and from beneath its shadow gazed long and earnestlyat the city of the hill.
“At length I behold thee, thanks be to God, ” hemurmured, for he was a worshipper of Jehovah, and not of hismother's deities, “and it is time, since, to speak the truth, I amweary of this travelling. Now what fortune shall I find within thywalls, O City of Gold and devil-servers? ”
“Who can tell? ” said a quiet voice at his elbow.“Perhaps, Prince, you will find a wife, or a throne, or— a grave.”
Aziel started, and turned to see a man standing athis side, clothed in robes that had been rich, but were now tornand stained with travel, and wearing on his head a black cap inshape not unlike the fez that is common in the East to-day. The manwas past middle age, having a grizzled beard, sharp, hard featuresand quick eyes, which withal were not unkindly. He was a Phoenicianmerchant, much trusted by Hiram, the King of Tyre, who had made himcaptain of the merchandise of this expedition.
“Ah! is it you, Metem? ” said Aziel. “Why do youleave your charge to return to me? ”
“That I may guard a more precious charge— yourself,Prince, ” replied the merchant courteously. “Having brought thechild of Israel so far in safety, I desire to hand him safely tothe governor of yonder city. Your servants told me that by yourcommand they had left you alone, so I returned to bear you company,for after nightfall robbers and savages wander without these walls.”
“I thank you for your care, Metem, though I thinkthere is little danger, and at the worst I can defend myself. ”
“Do not thank me, Prince; I