Well can I recall how
much I enjoyed the first whisky and soda that I had tasted since
I left "the Temple," and the good English food by which it was
accompanied.
Presently I remembered Kaatje, whom I had left outside with some
native women, and went to see what had happened to her. I found
her finishing a hearty meal and engaged in conversation with a
young gentleman who was writing in a notebook. Afterwards I
discovered that he was a newspaper correspondent. What she told
him and what he imagined, I do not know, but I may as well state
the results at once. Within a few days there appeared in one of
the Natal papers and, for aught I know, all over the earth, an
announcement that Mr. Allan Quatermain, a well-known hunter in
Zululand, after many adventures, had escaped from that country,
"together with his favourite native wife, the only survivor of
his extensive domestic establishment." Then followed some wild
details as to the murder of my other wives by a Zulu wizard
called "Road Mender, or Sick Ass" (i.e., Opener of Roads, or
Zikali), and so on.
I was furious and interviewed the editor, a mild and apologetic
little man, who assured me that the despatch was printed exactly
as it had been received, as though that bettered the case. After
this I commenced an action for libel, but as I was absent through
circumstances over which I had no control when it came on for
trial, the case was dismissed. I suppose the truth was that they
mixed me up with a certain well-known white man in Zululand, who
had a large "domestic establishment," but however this may be, it
was a long while before I heard the last of that "favourite
native wife.
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