Review of Bevieics, l/iJlS. 



NOTABLE BOOKS. 



197 



spider Iliads is great, but instead, leav- 

 ing the reader to discover the stories 

 for himself, let us take for extract a 

 single passage about M. Fabre's per- 

 sonal relations with spider-land: — 



Michelet has told us how. as a print<>r's 

 apprentice in a cellar, he established amicable 

 relations with a spider. At a certain hour 

 of the day a ray of sunlight would glint 

 through the window of the gloomy work- 

 shop, and light up the little compositor's 

 case. Then his eight-legged neighbour would 

 come down from her web and take her share 

 of the sunshine on the edge of the case. The 

 boy did not interfere with her ; he welcomed 

 the trusting visitor as a friend, and as a 

 pleasant diversion from the long monotony. 

 When we lack the society of our fellow-men, 

 we take refuge in that of animals without 

 always losing by the change. I do not, 

 thank God, suffer from the melancholy of a 

 cellar ; my solitude is gay with light and 

 verdure : I attend, whenever I please, the 

 fields' high festival, the thrushes' concert, 

 the crickets' symphony; and yet my friendly 

 commerce witli tlif spider is marked by an 

 even greater devotion than the young type- 

 setter's. I admit her to the intimacy of 

 my study, I make room for her among my 

 books, I'set her in the sun on my window- 

 ledge, 1 visit her assiduously at her home, in 

 the country. The object of our relations is 

 not to create a means of escape from the 

 petty worries of life, pin-pricks whereof 1 

 have my share like other men, a very large 

 share, indeed ; I propose to submit to the 

 spider a host of questions whereto, at times, 

 she condescends to reply. 



ALLAN QUARTERMAIX AGAIN. 



rhild of SfiJiiii. Hv Sir H. Rider Haggard. 



(Cassell,'3/6.) 



All who have read Sir Flenry's stir- 

 ring tale, " Allan Ouartermain," will re- 

 joice to meet this wonderful hunter 

 again in the pages of " Child of Storm." 

 This talented author always contrives 

 to bring in the "spook" side of native 

 life with much effect, and the present 

 tale hangs largely on the doings of old 

 Zikali, Opener-of-Roads— Zikali, The- 

 thing-that-should-never-have-been-born, 

 a century-old dwarf, who works unseen 

 and uncannily for the downfall of the 

 Zulu race. Like most of Sir Henry's 

 stories, there is plenty of bloodshed, but 

 on this occasion in wholesale rather than 

 in retail quantities. 



The Child of Storm is Mamecna, a 

 magni&cent creature of Europciin, not 

 native type, with an immense nmbition 

 which stops at nothing, and causes the 

 death and ruin of many of the greatest 

 in the land ; is responsible indeed for 



the defeat of Prince L'rribelazi, in the 

 famous fight of the Tugela, where Cete- 

 wayo and he carried out the advice of 

 their weak and vacillating father who, 

 in an agony of indecision, had said, 

 " when two young bulls quarrel they 

 had better fight it out." 



The tale is animated by the true Zulu 

 spirit, says Mr. Stuart, who was for 

 twenty years Assistant Secretary for 

 Native Affairs in Natal, and who knows 

 more of the language and customs of 

 the native races than any other living 

 man. It certainly gives a vivid picture 

 of the state of affairs in Zululand which 

 lead up to the struggle between the rival 

 princes and the victory of Cetewayo. 

 The account of the fight made by the 

 Greys or U punga, the ro}'al regiment 

 of veterans which Panda sent down at 

 the last moment to the assistance of 

 Umbelazi, his favourite son, is a vivid 

 piece of word painting. After the 

 prince's army had been defeated, this 

 regiment of 3000 men held back the 

 whole of Cetewayo's victorious army 

 whilst the fugitives endeavoured to 

 escape over the Tugela. 



Ouartermain, who was with these 

 Amawombe warriors, thus describes the 

 fight: — 



" Another minute, and the regiment in 

 front of us began to move, while the 

 other two behind it ostentatiously sat 

 themselves down in their ranks, to show 

 that they did not mean to spoil sport. 

 The fight was to begin with a duel be- 

 tween about six thousand men. 



"'Good!' muttered the warrior near- 

 est to me, ' the}^ are in our bag.' 



" ' Aye,' answered another ; ' those 

 little boys — (used as a term of con- 

 tempt) — are going to learn their last 

 lesson.' 



" For a few seconds there was silence, 

 whilst the long ranks leant forward be- 

 tween the hedges of lean and cruel 

 spears. iV whisi>er went down the line. 

 I became aware that we were 

 moving, c^uite slowly at first, then more 

 (juickl}-. . . We were charging 



now, and oh ! the awful and glorious 

 excitement of that charge ! Oh, the 

 rush of the bending plumes and the dull 

 thudding of eight thousand feet! The 

 Lsutu came up the slope to meet us. In 



