Although Haggard was far from a great novelist, his King Solomon's Mines was published at the perfect time. The recent Western re-discovery of the ancient zimbabwe stone structures in southern Africa with concurrent racialized imperialist fantasies during an era of burgeoning British imperial expansion in southern Africa created a climate favorable for a popular romance eager to read stories of adventure in an unknown African interior. Adding an imperialist layer with the background of Solomon's legendary mines and legends of an ancient "white" race that erected fabulous ruins in the dark heart of Africa must have appealed to some British readers, who could see in themselves the rightful successors to the light-skinned invaders who once conquered the native population. There's even a thin layer of historical references to the Portuguese past presence in the region (the old Dom) and the return of a "white" race represented by the Anglo-Saxon.
Haggard, however, awkwardly combines his racist fantasy with an admiration of the Zulu people, the model for the Kukuanas who ruled the area of King Solomon's Mines. Due to his own penchant for racialist theories of gallant Viking or Dane warriors and the type of masculinist culture of honor and military valor they supposedly represented, Haggard, or his narrator, Quartermain, seem to view the Zulu as a great native "race" of noble savages. However, as a savage "black" population, they are destined to fall under benevolent British rule. And if you think Haggard would actually go as far as including a consummated relationship between a black woman, Foulata (whose name might be a reference to the Fulani people of West Africa), and a white man, Good, you will be disappointed. Instead, black and white are never to cross. The races are presumably immutable and black and white too different, despite the expressed admiration of Haggard's three white protagonists for the Kukuanas.
In his own way, Haggard seems to want the Kukuanas to be left alone, but surely the Anglo-Saxon "race" will extend their control over the noble Kukuana peoples. Quartermain, Henry and Good convince Umbopa to end some of the barbaric superstitions and violent traditions of the Kukuanas, and despite the Kukuana king's promise to resist any white encroachment, we all know what transpired in Rhodesia and the rest of the African continent. Quartermain and friends represent an earlier stage in the colonial relationship, one that sought to restrict execution without trial and eradicate the witch-hunting rituals. But like their Zulu model, the Kukuana will surely fall under direct British rule.
Despite it's flaws in structure and prose, the novel must have been one of the influences on Pauline Hopkins. Hopkins, drawing from the Ethiopianist Christian tradition and focused on ancient Meroe, obviously held a differing view on race. In her novel, Reuel, the light-skinned African-American, returns and becomes king of an ancient, lost state modeled on Meroe and Biblical allusions. Unlike Umbopa, Haggard's noble savage, Hopkins endeavored to craft fully-fleshed out character, not just stereotypes. Moreover, the Ethiopianist and racial vindicationist tradition Hopkins drew from made Telassar an advanced civilization, not like the Kukuanas who merely inherited the chainmail and infrastructure left behind by an ancient white race. For Hopkins, Meroe and the idea of a Nubian origin of civilization was meant to inspire African Americans. So, Hopkins borrowed from the lost world type of literature Haggard excelled in to write a novel that would uplift black Americans and encourage them to see something positive in their African origin. The two authors perhaps share an uncomfortable emphasis on racial identity as a driving force to which all must ultimately embrace or suffer the consequences, although Reuel is of mixed-race ancestry.