CHAPTER XI.

The King of the Maleggas took his royal brother by the hand, and led

him towards an immense baobab, underneath which he is in the habit of

holding his receptions and administering justice. A space of about

twenty square yards is carpeted with ox hides, and trunks of trees,

covered with hyæna, lion, and leopard skins, serve for the throne and

its surrounding seats.

Whilst we lingered behind the two chiefs, and in the midst of their

respective escorts, I examined Kadjoro. He is a man about thirty

years of age, tall and robust. His manner is a mixture of the rustic

and the warrior. His features are regular and agreeable; his eyes

black, fine and full of expression; his hair, or, to describe it more

correctly, his mane is parted in the middle of his forehead, and

falls behind his ears in numerous twists, reaching to the shoulders.

Feathers of the ostrich, eagle and vulture are stuck at intervals in

this thick wool. In his left hand he holds a shield of buffalo hide,

in his right a club, and, after the manner of his tribe, a portion of

his body is covered with a pair of very ample breeches. Looking only

at his features, his physiognomy generally, and his olive complexion,

one might take him for a European; his mane, ornaments, and tattoo-marks

make him a savage, "but a very handsome savage," affirms Miss

Poles, who has already, from behind her blue spectacles, made her

little observations, and gives us the benefit of them.

"Take care," said de Morin to me in a whisper, "she is quite capable

of falling in love with Kadjoro, and indulging in some fresh folly."

I promised my friend that I would watch over her.

The King has not yet taken his seat; he converses with his guest, and

is questioning him, undoubtedly about us, for he frequently looks in

our direction, a proceeding which puts Miss Poles in a great state of

excitement, she being already persuaded that the new monarch is

noticing and admiring her.

"How far superior he is to Munza!" she repeats, incessantly.

Suddenly, Kadjoro, having, doubtless, heard all about us from his

royal friend, leaves him abruptly, comes to where we are standing,

shakes hands with us three, bows to our two companions, just as we

Europeans should do, and, by a wave of his hand, invites us to follow

him.

"He is charming," whispers Delange; "this savage has the manners of a

_grand seigneur_."

Reminding him that Kadjoro must by this time know of our connection

with M. de Guéran, we follow the King and set foot on the carpet of

skins.

Our entrance into the reserved enclosure is made to the accompaniment

of Malegga music. A score of musicians, placed at a convenient

distance, blow to the full extent of their lungs into elephants'

tusks shaped like shells, at the same time keeping in perpetual

motion their arms and legs, on which, at the wrists, knees, and

ankles, are hung small iron bells. Behind these musicians stand the

members of the royal Court, eager to see us; everybody is standing on

tip-toe, and some high dignitaries, forgetful of the proprieties,

even get on their neighbours' backs. But no one dares penetrate into

the enclosure reserved for the King and his guests. Not a single

woman is to be seen anywhere; it appears that, amongst the Maleggas,

they are excluded from all public meetings.

At a sign from Kadjoro, the orchestra is silent. We take our places

on the seats pointed out to us by the King, and the interview, to

which we have for so long looked forward, commences.

"Welcome to my kingdom!" were the first words of Kadjoro. "You are

the friends of my ally, the King of the Monbuttoos. That is

sufficient for me, and I do not need any explanation of your plans."

"We, on the contrary," said de Morin, at once, "wish to inform you of

those plans. We can have no secrets from one who has behaved in so

generous and hospitable a manner towards us ever since we have been

in his dominions."

"Speak," replied the King, "and I will endeavour to be of service to

you."

"We quite believe you. To see you and hear you is to believe in your

sincerity."

De Morin had expressed the opinion of all of us. At first sight we

were drawn towards this savage, so superior to all those whom we had

seen, even to the King of the Monbuttoos himself.

"Whatever you do, do not wound our touchy Munza by being too

complimentary to his ally," said I to de Morin.

"Make your mind easy," replied my friend. "His turn will come."

Turning again towards Kadjoro, he resumed, aloud—

"We are in search of a white man, our father. He stayed for some time

in this country, and we are come to you for news of him."

"Your father! The white man was your father?"

De Morin was fully alive to all the dangers of the situation, but,

resolute as ever, he did not even take the trouble to enter into any

explanation, lest by so doing he should arouse the suspicions of

Munza, who was drinking in every word of the conversation. He hoped

also, for reasons already explained, that the title of father,

bestowed upon M. de Guéran, would pass unnoticed, or that in any case

Kadjoro would not attach any importance to it.

He was not mistaken. The King evidently recalled to his mind the worn

features of M. de Guéran, his long beard, his flowing locks, his

countenance seared by severe illness, and, glancing at Madame de

Guéran, young, charming, and with her colour heightened by the

excitement under which she was labouring, he acknowledged to himself

that she might well be the stranger's daughter.

Without, however, giving him time to utter a word, which might have

been dangerous for us, de Morin went on to say—

"We have made a long and perilous journey to obtain an interview with

you. We beg you, therefore, to tell us all you know about him who was

your guest."

"Yes, he was both my guest and my friend," said the Malegga chief, in

a tone almost of affection.

"Where is he?" asked de Morin, quickly. "Can he still be in your

dominions?"

"No, no," said the King, sadly; "he left me long ago."

We all shared in the emotion now exhibited by Madame de Guéran. She

had risen from her seat, and pale and trembling, but determined to

know all as soon as possible, she herself questioned the African

monarch through the medium of Nassar.

These questions were not, perhaps, put in the order in which I now

write them, but the interview, so interesting to all of us, not

excepting Munza, is to this day so vividly impressed on my memory,

that I feel sure I do not forget a single incident, nor err, either

as to the sense of the questions, or the answers to them, which were

given without the slightest hesitation, and with the utmost candour.

"Is he who was your guest still living?" asked Madame de Guéran,

abruptly.

"I do not know," was the reply. "Since the day he crossed my

frontier, I have had no news of him."

"When did he leave you?"

Kadjoro made a calculation, and entered into some explanations with

Nassar, from which we gathered that scarcely six months had elapsed

since the departure of M. de Guéran.

"Which direction did he take on leaving you?"

"Towards the south, in the direction of the mountains."

"What country would he enter on crossing your frontier?"

"Ulindi."

"Is it large?"

"Yes; it extends as far as the mountains."

"What is the name of the King who rules over it?"

"It is not a King; it is a Queen—Queen Walinda, who has given her

name to her kingdom and her subjects. They are called Walindis."

Nassar informed us that in Africa, when the name of a country begins

with _U_, that of the inhabitants commences with _Wa_.

"Do you think that this Queen has allowed our father to continue his

journey?"

"No, I do not think so. She does not even allow her neighbours, or

her allies like ourselves, to enter her kingdom."

"Nevertheless, from what you say, our father appears to have entered

it?"

"Yes, against all my advice. But he would be made prisoner at once."

"You are sure of that?"

"It cannot have happened otherwise, for he Has not returned to my

dominions."

"There would be no necessity for his returning, if he could succeed

in crossing the mountains?"

"He could not cross them. They are the boundary of the earth; it ends

there."

Instead of combating this error, de Morin said to the King—

"Then, if our father still lives, we shall find him amongst the

Walindis?"

"No, you will never find him. You will be taken prisoners, as he has

been, as soon as you set foot in the country."

"We will purchase the right of going through it," said I at once.

Nassar had scarcely time to translate these words before the King

demanded an explanation; he could not grasp the meaning of my

expression. In the districts where the ivory and slave merchants have

not penetrated, the idea of securing a right of way by payment has

not entered the minds of the natives; they consider that everybody is

free to traverse the uncultivated districts, and, with few

exceptions, look upon a visit from a stranger as a compliment. If, in

the districts watered by the Nile and on the high road of the

caravans, any tribute is exacted, it is simply because the slave

merchants, fearing the loss of their prisoners, have adopted the

custom of offering presents to the chiefs for the purpose of securing

their good-will. For a long time the latter remained in ignorance of

the reason why their wishes were thus anticipated, but they have

since then taken kindly to the custom, and now display the greatest

rapacity towards white men, all of whom they regard indiscriminately

as traders in human flesh.

"The Queen of the Walindis," resumed Kadjoro, as soon as he

understood what we meant, "will decline your presents, and will not

allow you even to get as far as her palace."

"We will get there by force," said de Morin.

"It is evident that you do not know my neighbours," replied the King.

"I am strong and powerful, but yet I pay them a tribute to prevent

them making war on me."

"Their army, then, is more numerous than yours?"

"No, but the battalions of women of whom it is composed frighten my

soldiers."

The King perceived our astonishment, and hastened to give Nassar the

following details. At the commencement of his reign, the Walindis

suddenly invaded his country on a cattle-stealing expedition. He had

defended himself valiantly, and was on the point of gaining a

decisive victory, when a numerous force of women, commanded by the

Queen in person, appeared on the scene and, in a few moments, routed

his whole army. These female warriors, of whose very existence he was

ignorant, were young, for the most part lovely, and strong and brave

to a degree. They did not waste any time in shooting arrows, or

fighting at a distance; they came to close quarters at once, and

committed fearful havoc with their steel pikes and long knives. It

was impossible to seize them, or even to approach them at all

closely; their foreheads, necks, waists, wrists, legs below the

thigh, and feet above the ankle, were surrounded with iron rings

barbed with sharp points a foot long, which served at once for

offensive and defensive weapons. The King added that, whilst

fightings they utter most terrifying cries, their eyes flash fire,

and they foam at the mouth; they give no quarter, despise making

prisoners, and, as soon as they have wounded an enemy, they despatch

him. Consequently, these women inspire the Maleggas with

unconquerable fear, and it was because of this fear that Kadjoro had

come to the conclusion that he had better make a few prudent

concessions to his neighbours, and purchase the alliance of their

Queen, the lovely and invincible Walinda, as she is called in this

Country.

"It seems to me," said de Morin, turning to us, "that in the heart of

Africa we have found a second kingdom of Dahomey."

"And it seems to me," whispered Delange in my ear, "that I shall very

soon find myself in the presence of my Venus in ebony."

A Parisian Sultana, Vol. 3 (of 3) · 第 11 / 36 章