ALLAN'S WIFE

by H. Rider Haggard




DEDICATION

My Dear Macumazahn,

It was your native name which I borrowed at the christening
of that Allen who has become as well known to me as any
other friend I have. It is therefore fitting that I should
dedicate to you this, his last tale--the story of his wife,
and the history of some further adventures which befell him.
They will remind you of many an African yarn--that with the
baboons may recall an experience of your own which I did not
share. And perhaps they will do more than this. Perhaps they
will bring back to you some of the long past romance of days
that are lost to us. The country of which Allan Quatermain
tells his tale is now, for the most part, as well known and
explored as are the fields of Norfolk. Where we shot and
trekked and galloped, scarcely seeing the face of civilized
man, there the gold-seeker builds his cities. The shadow of
the flag of Britain has, for a while, ceased to fall on the
Transvaal plains; the game has gone; the misty charm of the
morning has become the glare of day. All is changed. The
blue gums that we planted in the garden of the "Palatial"
must be large trees by now, and the "Palatial" itself has