Maiwas Revenge | Page 3

H. Rider Haggard
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Etext prepared by John Bickers, [email protected] Dagny,
[email protected] and Emma Dudding, [email protected]

Maiwa's Revenge or The War of the Little Hand
by H. Rider Haggard

PREFACE
It may be well to state that the incident of the "Thing that bites"
recorded in this tale is not an effort of the imagination. On the contrary,
it is "plagiarized." Mandara, a well-known chief on the east coast of
Africa, has such an article, /and uses it/. In the same way the wicked
conduct attributed to Wambe is not without a precedent. T'Chaka, the
Zulu Napoleon, never allowed a child of his to live. Indeed he went
further, for on discovering that his mother, Unandi, was bringing up
one of his sons in secret, like Nero he killed her, and with his own
hand.

MAIWA'S REVENGE

I
GOBO STRIKES
One day--it was about a week after Allan Quatermain told me his story
of the "Three Lions," and of the moving death of Jim-Jim--he and I
were walking home together on the termination of a day's shooting. He
owned about two thousand acres of shooting round the place he had
bought in Yorkshire, over a hundred of which were wood. It was the
second year of his occupation of the estate, and already he had reared a
very fair head of pheasants, for he was an all-round sportsman, and as
fond of shooting with a shot-gun as with an eight-bore rifle. We were
three guns that day, Sir Henry Curtis, Old Quatermain, and myself; but
Sir Henry was obliged to leave in the middle of the afternoon in order
to meet his agent, and inspect an outlying farm where a new shed was
wanted. However, he was coming back to dinner, and going to bring
Captain Good with him, for Brayley Hall was not more than two miles
from the Grange.
We had met with very fair sport, considering that we were only going
through outlying cover for cocks. I think that we had killed twenty-
seven, a woodcock and a leash of partridges which we secured out of a
driven covey. On our way home there lay a long narrow spinney, which
was a very favourite "lie" for woodcocks, and generally held a pheasant
or two as well.
"Well, what do you say?" said old Quatermain, "shall we beat through
this for a finish?"
I assented, and he called to the keeper who was following with a
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