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The Ghost Kings

The Ghost Kings

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Chapter 1 THE GIRL

Word Count: 3941    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ttle Rachel Dove staring at it with sad eyes, seemed an illimitable sheet of stagnant oil. Yet there was no sun, for a grey haze hung like a veil beneath the arch of the sky, so dense and thick

s upland there was no pasturage to drive them back to the waggon. For, as he explained to her, in such tempests cattle ar

e, had been fond of that baby during its short little life. Well, it was buried now; he had finished digging its resting-place in the hard soil before he went. Rachel, poor child, for she was but fifteen, had borne it to its last bed, and her father had unpacked his surplice from a box, put

d baboon which peered at these strange proceedings from its crest, and finally pushed down a boulder before it departed, barking indignantly. Her mother could

he ribbon bows hung by a thread, her face turned to the canvas and weeping silently. The gaunt form of her father with his fanatical, saint-like face, pale beneath its tan, his high forehead over which fell one grizzled lock, his thin, set lips and far-away grey eyes, taking off his surplice and folding it up with quick movements of his nervous hands, and herself, a scared, wondering

all for the best. The Lord hath taken

proachfully with her blue eyes, and

Lord when He takes my babes, no, nor any mother, He Who could spare them if He chose. Why should the Lord give me fever so that I could

r father had exclaimed. "You should

ll I told you how it would be. I told you that if you would come this mad journey the babe would die, aye, and I tell you"-here her voice sank to a kind of wailing whisper-"before the

e in her husband, "e

ou, and I would not listen; now I warn you, and you will not listen. Well, so be it, we must dree our own weird, everyone of us, a short one; all save Rachel, wh

her answered proudly.

y poor babe! Why should my babe die because too much religion has made you ma

el had fled from the tent, and sat hersel

nd since she came to South Africa when she was four years old. It was shortly after her birth that this missionary-fury seized upon her father as a result of some meetings which he had attended in London. He was then a clergyman with a good living in a quiet Hertfordshire parish, and possessed of some private means, but no

he Boers. For at this time an agitation was in progress in England which led ultimately to the freeing of the slaves of the Cape Dutch, and afterwards to the exodus of the latter into the wilderness and most of those wars with which our generation is familiar. So, as she was devoted to her husband, who, apart from his

d its accuracy for a minute, but only redoubled their efforts to prevent her from going to Africa. Even her husband did not doubt it, but remarked irritably that it seemed a pity she could not sometimes be foresighted as to agreeable future events, since for his part he was quite willing to wait for disagreeable ones until they happened. Not that he quailed per

her family; that she loved and respected him, and that she would rather be murdered by Kaffirs in due season than endure a separation which might be li

her law. Their sins, amongst which he included all their most cherished inherited customs, appalled him, as he continually proclaimed from the housetops. Moreover, when occasionally he did snatch a brand from the burning, and the said brand subsequently proved that it was still alight, or worse still, replaced its original failings by those of the white man, such as drink, theft and lying, whereof before it had been innocent, he would openly condemn it to eternal punishment. Further, he was too insubordinate, or, as he called it, too honest, to submit to the authority of his local superiors in the

d as his conscience would not allow him to be silent, Mr. Dove chose the latter alternative. The only question was whither he should go. As he was well off, having inherited a moderate fortune in addition to what he had before he left England, his poor w

is duty. He had seen some Englishmen who had visited the country called Natal where white people were beginning to settle. In that land it seemed there were no slave-driving Boers, and the natives, according to all accounts, much needed the guidance of the Gospel, especially a certain king of the people called Zulus, who was

nverted, at any rate at present. They were fighting men, as her Highland forefathers had been, and her Scottish blood could understand the weakness, while, as for this polygamy, she had long ago secretly concluded that the practice was one which suited

. At the best it might be happy, and at the worst deep, everlasting rest and peace, and she felt as though she needed thousands of years of rest and peace. Moreover, she was sure no harm would come to Rachel, the very apple of her eye; that she was marked

the sunless, sweltering

d not know all the story

one way or other, and b

or she who was companio

ing. She sympathised wit

at there was something l

nd mind, she was her mo

eamy beauty, to which

lear grey eyes, togethe

cter she had little, tha

urpose which ma

r, or fore-seeing, like

some strange instinct

rac

ever see it again. On the whole she thought so, for here that intuition of hers came in, but at the best she was sure that there would be long to wait. She loved her mother also, and grieved more for her than for herself, especially now when she was so

stance, she could read the Gospels in Greek-which her father had taught her ever since she was a little child-while they could scarcely spell them out in the Taal, or Boer dialect, and that they had never heard even of William the Conqueror. She did not care particularly about Greek and William the Conqueror, but

ith tears so that she

she did not regret as i

r hand that was burnt qu

l to watching two of tho

r often in South Africa

ections, were now fighti

t her feet. Men could

eir ferocity was hideous

f them, and astonished

t had begun to rain, it

up and looked about it

the credit

her, and having again

handkerchief available

alking to

irritable voice. "It is wrong to cry because

answered in a reflective voice, then by way of defending herself

to her very final Scriptural example

heard that boys, yes, and men, too, pit these poor i

ds the little grave under the rock. Then, while for the second time her father

very hysterical and quite unable

, for she was a courag

? She isn't fit to go on. It is wron

and began to scold and to talk of the

not got a 'call,

they were both in league against him, instruments used by the Evil One to tempt

grey eyes, saying nothing further,

s the heat and this-this-trial of our faith. What did I come to speak to you about? Oh! I remember

e outspanned in this camp mother and I went down to the river and walked to that kind of island beyond the dry

dear. You will have ple

ugh to obey, then che

the river alone, because we saw the sp

here are any," he answered doggedly, for was not this an op

rhaps because I don't care what happens

le figure in that great place. Mr. Dove watched her uneasily till she was

faith, and through that I am continually tempted. I think I will run after her and go, too. No, there is Janey calling me, I cannot leave her alone. The Lord

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