It was a man about forty years of age, tall, thin, and with a slight
stoop. Despite his sunburnt skin, unkempt hair, long beard, and the
tattered garments which barely covered him, you could tell from the
whole contour of his face, his marked and aristocratic features, and
his general bearing, that you were face to face with a man of birth
and breeding.
He walked towards Delange, and, raising a cap, saved from the general
shipwreck of his belongings, he said in French and in a broken voice—
"You, sir, are a member of that expedition which has so generously
devoted itself to searching after me?"
"I am," replied the doctor, as he also uncovered, "for I presume I
have the honour of addressing the Baron de Guéran?"
"Yes, I am, indeed, the Baron de Guéran, though," he added with a
slight smile, "my dress might lead you to doubt that assertion. And
now, may I in turn enquire to whom I am speaking? I must needs know
your name, if only that I may ever cherish it in my memory."
"Dr. Delange, a Frenchman, and a Parisian."
"And your friends?"
"M. de Morin and M. Périères."
"Thank you; those names are graven on my heart. But permit me to come
straight to the point without further delay, for time presses. It has
been a difficult matter to obtain even this short interview with you.
In spite of my advice you have persisted in your idea of rescuing me.
Well! I should, perhaps, have done the same in your place. But what
is your present object, and why have you ventured here alone?"
"I want to see the Queen, and, through your mediation, make proposals
of peace to her, so that, if possible, we may avoid a bloody battle."
"You will not succeed, for the Queen is furious against the
Monbuttoos for having invaded her territory, and in her anger she
mixes you up with her enemies. For the last fortnight, ever since she
was warned of your arrival in Ulindi, she has been eager to come to
blows. The whole tribe is equally anxious; her sorcerers and fetish-mongers
have declared in favour of war, and preach it as the crusades
used to be preached in olden days, and I, alas! am powerless to ward
off from you the evils which menace you."
"But," asked the doctor, "is it, as you wrote, absolutely necessary
that we should be conquered?"
"Yes, I believe so firmly. The force at Walinda's disposal is
considerable. Ah! you will do me justice at least," added M. de
Guéran, seizing the doctor's hand. "I have done all in my power to
prevent your coming here—and now, I cannot even fight by your side!"
"What?" asked Delange. "Are you not coming over to us?"
"Coming to you? Would I not have been with you already if I could
have managed it? Turn your head, and look at that band of women who
are watching our slightest movement. They are not more than a hundred
yards from us. If I make one step in advance, if I were to pass the
limits laid down for me, if I were to attempt to approach your camp,
at that very moment my gaolers would rush upon us, and would, after
they had killed you, take me back to the Queen. Come, there is yet
time, let my friends desist from all endeavours to save me; let them
cross the frontier once more. Perhaps I may induce the Queen to let
you go without attacking you."
"Your advice is impracticable. The King of the Monbuttoos is bent on
a trial of strength with Walinda, and we should never persuade him to
beat a retreat. If the Queen persists in refusing him an interview
and an alliance, he will attack her before she has time to attack
him."
"She will refuse, just as she has already done."
"Then a battle is inevitable."
"Inevitable, as you say."
"And it means defeat and death for us?"
M. de Guéran bowed in silence. Then M. Delange said in a clear,
distinct voice, dwelling upon each word—
"You know that we have two white women with us?"
"Yes, so the Queen told me. They are your wives, doubtless. You are
travelling after the fashion of my old friend Livingstone, and as
Baker was travelling when last I saw him."
"You are mistaken," said Delange, abruptly. "We are travelling with
the Baroness de Guéran, your wife."
"My wife! my wife here!" stammered the Baron. "It is impossible—
impossible."
"I give you my word," interrupted Delange, "that I have spoken the
truth."
"The truth! the truth! She is there—my wife is there!" said M, de
Guéran, over and over again, as if he were stupefied or had lost his
head completely.
"Yes," continued Delange, "Madame de Guéran is not more than three
hundred yards from you, at the foot of that mountain, in the midst of
that army yonder."
"How could she have travelled so far? How has she had the courage—I
do not understand, I—"
He stopped, his emotion overcoming him. The doctor came to his
rescue.
"She arranged," said he, "an expedition of which I and my friends
have the honour to be members, and this expedition has been searching
for you during the last fourteen months."
Suddenly M. de Guéran, who had been leaning on the doctor's shoulder
to prevent himself falling, drew himself up, and exclaimed—
"I must see her! I must see her! Let them kill me—what do I care? I
must see her, I tell you! Come! Come!"
He seized hold of Delange, who, seeing the danger, tried to restrain
him.
But, hardly had the pair stirred a step, than a hundred amazons
rushed at full speed towards the Frenchmen, overtook them, and,
without any violence, without even touching them, formed a circle,
three deep, round them.
It was impossible to break through this living zone, this three-fold
wall of flesh bristling with iron points, for all these amazons were
in their war-paint.
M. de Guéran had by this time recovered his self-possession to a
certain degree.
"You see," said he to the doctor, "that I have not deceived you. I am
a prisoner, and," he added, pointing to the amazons, "I have some
terrible gaolers. But here comes the Queen, time presses, listen to
me—I will persuade Walinda that I did not wish to escape with you. I
will ask and obtain your liberty. But that is all I can do. Do not
attempt to speak to her, or to make any proposals for peace; that
would only be a confession of weakness and fear. Moreover, she is no
longer at liberty to avoid war; her army is in too great a state of
excitement. Return to your people—to mine, as soon as you can. You
will be attacked without delay. Defend yourselves, fight, try, above
all things, to keep the enemy at a distance; avoid, as far as
possible, a hand to hand struggle. These women are terrible when once
they get at and seize hold of their foes. As soon as the fight begins
I shall be more at liberty, and less strictly guarded. My gaolers and
the Queen herself will forget all about me in the fury of the battle.
The smell of blood will intoxicate them. I will take advantage of
that moment to join you. If I die, I shall die near you, by her side.
Here is the Queen."
Walinda advanced, grave, calm, majestic, and surrounded by a fresh
guard. The circle opened to let her pass, and, without taking the
least notice of Delange, she marched straight up to her prisoner,
questioned him sharply, and entered into conversation with him.
Whilst this was going on, the doctor scanned her closely. He had
nothing better to do, and this is what he says about her—
"What ease in all her movements! What grace and strength combined!
Yes, she is a Venus, a marvellous bronze statue moulded by a great
sculptor, but a living statue, overflowing, indeed, with life. And
what an expressive head, so full of character, is placed on this
lovely body! Long hair, black as jet, despising the fashion of the
country, and free from any trammels, covers her shoulders and hangs
down to her waist like a silken mantle; a broad, square forehead
without a single wrinkle; a warm complexion, verging on copper-colour,
like that of an Indian half-caste; fine, almond-shaped eyes,
at one moment soft and languishing, at another cruel and determined.
Eyes which can weep, or fascinate, or look you down; a nose
delicately rounded, and with nostrils which quiver at the slightest
emotion; small, even, sharp teeth, showing the brilliancy of their
whiteness behind the pouting, ruddy lips; and a smile wherein cruelty
and tenderness are curiously blended. I have never seen anything, and
I never shall see anything so picturesque and so lovely; dazzled by
her beauty and entirely lost in the contemplation of it, I absolutely
forgot all about my very dangerous situation."
Did the Queen read this admiration in the eyes of the doctor as she
looked at him for a moment? Was she flattered, and disposed to show
him the mercy for which M. de Guéran pleaded so eagerly, or did she
say to herself that she might very well let him go away, seeing that
in a very short time, when the victory should be hers, he would once
more be in her power? The doctor did not attempt to settle these
knotty points; moreover, he had no time. A breach was made in the
human wall surrounding him, and Walinda, stretching out her arm,
motioned him to withdraw.
He was simply shown the door without having had a single word
addressed to him. He thought it better not to raise any objection, so
he eyed the Queen from head to foot for the last time, so as to
impress her form on his memory, exchanged a look with the now
impassible Baron, and withdrew, staring in the coolest manner at the
women who were ranged on either side of him.
A quarter of an hour afterwards, still under the influence of all
that he had seen, he rejoined his friends. They had employed their
time during his absence to good purpose, having surrounded their post
by a ditch, a hundred yards long by one deep, starting from the foot
of the mountain, and describing a semi-circle round them. The earth
dug out from this ditch and thrown up on both sides of it, formed an
embankment, which would serve as a protection from the arrows, and
would render an assault difficult, if it did not actually prevent it.
Trunks of trees, stones, all the baggage of the caravan, and the
_débris_ of the previous night's encampment, were also piled up here
and there, like detached forts. One of these barricades, constructed
with more care than the others, and forming an inner circle within
the ditch, was intended as a shelter for Madame de Guéran, her
servants, the sick, and, later on, for the wounded.
At each end of the semi-circle were posted two battalions, commanded
by Munza's best officers, and held in readiness to advance against
the enemy. The King, at the head of a third body, was in reserve, to
reinforce whichever portion of the army might most need his
assistance. The Europeans, Nubians, Dinkas, and the eighty Monbuttoos
armed with rifles, were destined to repel assaults, and were not to
leave the main enclosure, where Périères and the two Arab
interpreters undertook to restrain them and direct their movements.
De Morin was with Munza as commander-in-chief, and Nassar acted as
their interpreter and aide-de-camp.
Under the pretext that amongst the Walindis the women fight, Miss
Poles was anxious to take her share of the common danger. She had got
herself up in a fancy costume, half-civil, half-military, held a
lance in one hand, and her inseparable revolver in the other. She
might have passed for an amazon, strictly speaking, if she had been
more sparing of clothing and a little better made—"only a little," as
Delange politely said. Stiff and motionless, at a barricade
constructed by Madame de Guéran's orders, she was extremely like a
sign-post or a figure intended to frighten away the birds.
Joseph, alone, had not offered his services in any way. He pretended
to be suffering from a renewed attack of fever, and moaned in a
corner of the inner circle, behind a third barricade constructed by
himself for his own private use; his saddle-ox, near which he was
reclining, was also capable of acting as a last line of defence.
The army of the Walindis was set in motion about 7 a.m., when compact
masses were seen simultaneously descending from the rising ground,
debouching on to the plain, and advancing directly against the
entrenched camp we have described.
By the aid of the telescope, de Morin ascertained that the advancing
force was composed of male troops only. Walindi, husbanding her
strength, was holding her amazons in reserve until the time should
come to strike a decisive blow.
When about three hundred paces from the camp, the Walindi archers
shouted vigorously, drew their bows, and let fly their arrows. Not
one of them reached the mark. Perceiving their want of success, they
advanced another hundred paces in tolerably good order, and
discharged a second flight; some passed over the camp and broke
against the mountain side, whilst others were embedded in the sand,
which formed a sort of bolster round the ditch.
"I declare, on behalf of all of us," said de Morin, turning to the
Europeans, "that up to to-day we have done no wrong to this tribe,
and that it is about to attack us. We, from this moment, have a right
to act in self-defence, and that right we will exercise."
He exchanged a few words with the King; the latter gave the word of
command, and the arrows of the Monbuttoos winged their way through
the air. The aim was true, and the ranks of the Walindis were thrown
into disorder.
This first blush of success caused Munza to lose his head. Eager to
fight, chafing at the inaction to which he had been so long
condemned, he could not content himself with decimating the hostile
battalion at long range by means of arrows, but rushed out against
them followed by his small _corps d'armée_.
The first shock was terrible, for both sides had long yearned to come
to close quarters, and eat each other!
Thrice the Walindis, who were fighting under the eyes of the amazons
and wanted to gain the day without their assistance, succeeded in
driving the Monbuttoos on to their entrenchment; thrice were they in
their turn compelled to fall back.
The Europeans could take no active part in this strife. The _mêlée_
was too compact, and the combatants too close together; the bullets
might easily have killed an ally or a friend.
Munza, armed with his battle-axe, bore himself like a hero of old
Gaul, when hand to hand fighting was the fashion. Not yet quite
recovered from his wound, and sometimes unable to stand up, he went
on his knees from group to group, struck at the legs of his enemies,
mowed them down with his axe, and reaped a goodly harvest round him.
Sometimes he managed to stand upright, drawing his figure up to its
full height and towering over friend and foe. Then he would cast a
long, lingering look towards the European camp, as if seeking for
some one, and, forgetting his wound, would hurl himself, with a
fearful yell, against the enemy.
Suddenly a cry, more terrible than all that had preceded it, was
heard, and the Monbuttoos were seen to break, and run in all
directions.
The King had just been mortally wounded.