CHAPTER XVII.

The King of the Maleggas only left us at the farthest extremity of

his kingdom, and very sorry we were to part with this intelligent,

humane, and, relatively speaking, civilized chief, who has behaved so

well to our caravan. He, too, had tears in his eyes as he warmly

shook hands with us, and for a long time we could see him following

us with his gaze as we went farther and farther away from him. Miss

Poles, of course, assumed that all this was intended for her, and, by

way of reply, sent countless kisses through the intervening air. But

Delange, notwithstanding his protests, had constituted himself the

guardian of this impressionable creature, and he had taken very good

care to confine Miss Poles to aerial osculation.

Ali has not misled us; the country through which we are passing does

not in any way resemble that of the Maleggas. No more pasture land,

no more cultivation, no more pretty little villages nestling among

wooded slopes; torrents, rocks, and sharp-pointed stones have

replaced all these. We are evidently upon an old spur of the mountain

range already visible in the horizon. Some severe volcanic shock must

have produced this effect in days gone by; a portion of the mountain

must have been detached, in the first instance, and subjected

afterwards to a leveling process which has brought about the stony,

unequal, deeply indented ground over which we have been passing

to-day.

But vegetation is so luxuriant and irresistible in these parts that

superb trees raise their heads amidst weird and jagged ridges, and

palms, with their bare stems and fan-like foliage, stand side by side

with aloes on the banks of the torrents.

The temperature, in this semi-desert, is stifling; there is but an

imperceptible line of shadow at the foot of the rocks, and the earth

seems to faint under the burden of the heat. Our army winds slowly,

like a huge serpent, along the turnings and twistings of the road.

The men march in silence, step by step, rifles in hand, and ready for

any emergency. A scouting party has been organized by de Morin to

warn us of coming danger, and the army is composed of several

battalions, subdivided into companies. We occupy the centre of this

force with our own personal escort, and the Monbuttoos whom we have

trained in the use of the rifle.

Munza, still suffering from his wound, is close to us, carried on a

shield. Madame de Guéran reclines in a hammock slung from large

poles, borne by eight Nubians, who advance with measured step.

Delange, de Morin, and I are on foot, the last horse we had having

been attacked in the Malegga country by the _tsetse_, a fly whose

bite, though harmless to human beings and wild animals, is fatal to

horses.

Finally, Joseph, induced by his natural indolence to prolong his

period of convalescence, is carried on the back of an ox, converted

for the nonce into a beast of burden. The flocks and herds follow

after, and they are of considerable dimensions, thanks to the

generosity of Kadjoro. We cannot count upon receiving any hospitality

at the hands of the Walindis, and we have taken our precautions

accordingly. Our caravan and the army generally are plentifully

supplied with cattle and grain, for we have come to an arrangement

with Munza that there shall be no plundering until we are attacked.

However, there are at present no symptoms of hostility; nobody

opposes our advance; no one flies at our approach. On the contrary,

in front of every village (we go round them instead of passing

through them) the inhabitants assemble to see us pass.

Has Queen Walinda changed her mind about us, or is she at this moment

collecting her forces and waiting until we have advanced farther into

the interior of her country to attack us? This latter supposition is

the more probable one.

The natives of this district are evidently conscious of their

strength, and are not tormented by a thousand and one fears on the

approach of strangers. Consequently, when we see them gathered

together, it often happens that Delange, de Morin, and I leave the

army for the purpose of making a more minute inspection of them.

They are a fine race, superior even to the Maleggas, whose physical

attractions have already commanded our admiration. Their facial angle

is strictly correct, the forehead rather wide, the lips thick but not

swollen, the teeth good and even, and if their noses are not aquiline

they are, at all events, delicately rounded. The most complete nudity

appears to be obligatory throughout the entire tribe, a decree of

banishment having apparently been pronounced against the slightest

strip of hide, or the minutest leaf. Some sovereign, in order to give

his people full liberty to develop themselves and spread out

unfettered, must have decreed a sumptuary law on the most radical

lines.

We are not yet in the presence of the regular amazons, those who,

according to the report of M. de Guéran, form part of the active

army; we only see here and there the sedentary ones, national guards

at the disposal of the chiefs of the various districts. Nevertheless,

these second-class women, if I may call them so, would be eagerly

sought after as models by all our sculptors. Their necks are well set

on spreading shoulders, their limbs are muscular and admirably

proportioned, and the play of their muscles is very marked.

"They are superb," says Delange, always enthusiastic over the human

form divine in living bronze. "The natives of this country are

evidently daughters of Venus, and that goddess of antiquity must have

had amongst her numerous train of admirers some negro deity who has

been discreetly ignored in the Mythology."

As is the case with several other tribes, the women of Ulindi,

disdaining all clothing and ornament, give way to considerable luxury

in the manner of dressing their hair. Their thick, abundant tresses,

curly rather than woolly, are restrained by a fillet, or network of

bark. Instead of falling over the temples, the neck, or the

shoulders, all the plaits and straggling locks are gathered together

on the top of the head, and rise one above the other until they form

a thick pad of hair, a species of extremely solid cushion, capable of

resisting any sword cut, however well directed. The majority of these

new-fangled helmets are stained with red ochre, a natural dye

obtained from the clay deposited by the streams in the ravines of the

country. Some coquettes also dye their eyelashes and eyebrows with

this ochre, and from a distance they look like red-haired negroes, a

combination which nature, notwithstanding her eccentricities, never

allows.

We managed, also, to gain access to some of the huts, surrounded by

three circular walls like regular bastions, and surmounted by a

spherical roof made of rushes bound together by a fine, flexible sort

of grass. As soon as you have stooped down and made your way on all

fours through the aperture which serves as a door to these huts, you

experience an indefinable sense of enjoyment; to the equatorial heat

outside succeeds a most refreshing coolness. In a moment, however,

you are anxious to get out again, and make for the door, or hole, to

speak more correctly. This arises from the circumstance that two or

three brands, placed in a corner of the cabin, are kept continually

smoking in order to drive away the mosquitoes and dry the skins which

curtain the walls of the hut. I saw many lion skins, there being

numbers of those animals, so we were told, in the neighbouring

districts. Against these the amazons wage a continual warfare,

because in the chances of the chase, as well as of war, they can gain

the husband, the reward of their bravery.

December 8th.—For twelve days we have been marching in Ulindi, and

still have no news of the Queen! It might be supposed that she was

either entirely ignorant of our arrival in her dominions, or that she

does not condescend to bother her head about us. But there is

evidently some scheme on foot; the chiefs of these districts fly at

our approach for fear we should question them. All the able-bodied

men, and all the women capable of fighting have disappeared from the

villages. There only remain the children and old men, who, in fear

and trembling, make all sorts of grimaces instead of answering our

questions. An appalling void has been created all around us.

We shall soon find out the answer to this terrible riddle, for Ali

tells us that we are scarcely three days' march from the royal

residence. Moreover, the mountains, which serve as the south eastern

frontier of Ulindi, rear themselves up about a dozen leagues from us.

We can see their crests, and distinguish every bend in them. In the

foreground, and in the centre is Mount Maccorly or M'Caroli, from

fifteen to eighteen hundred feet high; behind it are two long chains,

one behind the other, whose peaks are lost in the clouds. They lie

almost due N.N.E. and S.S.W., and extend for about thirty leagues.

Our telescopes are not only levelled towards this distant horizon;

they are turned in all directions and scan every feature of the

landscape. We ourselves do duty as scouts, and we do not allow the

army to advance without reconnoitring at short intervals. This army,

moreover, is a source of astonishment to us. Is it conscious of the

danger it runs, and does it obey us instinctively? Has the discipline

we have attempted to introduce into it had a great effect on these

savages? Or is it reserving its strength for a grand _razzia_ of

lovely prisoners, and a meal off the most appetizing of them?

Whatever may be the reason, not a soul strays from the line of march

we mark out in advance; there is no quarrelling; the natives and

their dwellings are alike respected. We are indeed glad of it; let

the battle come—we have right on our side.

Of all the Monbuttoos, Munza, who ought to set an example of calmness

and self-possession, is certainly the least tractable and the most

excited. If it had not been for Madame de Guéran, who is occupied

incessantly in soothing him, he would already have burnt a village or

two, and massacred a goodly number of natives. His inaction weighs

upon him, the unknown unnerves him, the utter silence and void around

us, which are day by day becoming more marked, make him uneasy. He

longs, even at the risk of imprudence, to emerge from out the

profound night in which we now are. As soon, too, as he again saw

Madame de Guéran, who is regaining her strength, as soon as he could

be by her side, and she could speak to him, his insane passion

appeared to return in all its strength.

Good heavens, what a situation! If we are attacked and conquered by

the Walindis, it is death! If we are victors, we shall have to fight

another battle with Munza to regain our freedom—and we have armed him

against us! Eighty of his picked men are in possession of rifles and

revolvers, all his troops have now some idea of fighting, and he is

in a position to command them. We have taught him all we know! De

Morin imparted to me, in confidence, these fears and, heaven knows, I

share them.

Delange continues to deplore, very cheerfully all the same, the

filial affection of Dr. Desrioux, which led to his taking that loving

son's place. But, above all, he envies Pommerelle who, after having

risked his life once as far as Monaco, has not hit upon the happy

idea of journeying two thousand leagues farther to bring us

reinforcements and cigars.

"He is a selfish egotist," says Delange. "He prefers whispering soft

nothings into the ear of that questionable flame of his, who will

hook him in the end! And he will have missed seeing Ulindi! A country

of adorable, but unapproachable women!"

Miss Poles utters no sound; her thoughts, her regrets, and her

amorous despair drive away all fear. She is marching on to death with

her eyes shut. Perhaps she courts it! Without Kadjoro, life is

wearisome!

Joseph, on the contrary, is fully alive to the situation, and

protests as vehemently as his fat will allow him to do. But de Morin

disposes of him very quickly by informing him that he is quite at

liberty to return alone to the Rue Taitbout.

December 11th.—About five o'clock this morning I left my tent to look

about me. Large, confused bodies of people are moving on the rising

ground which surrounds us on every side. The army of the Walindis has

taken advantage of the night to advance towards us, and is now

endeavouring to close in upon us.

A Parisian Sultana, Vol. 3 (of 3) · 第 17 / 36 章