Timur Lenk arranged a pompous funeral for Bajazet. His entire troops
came out to accompany the body. On his tombstone he caused to be
engraved a recital of his glorious deeds, and he commanded the Sultan's
women to wail and mourn for him. As he returned from the funeral
ceremony his historian, Shacheddin, came before him, to read out what he
had written down concerning the event, for the benefit of future
generations. It was as follows:
"When Timur Djeihangir defeated his enemy and captured him, he treated
him as a brother. He placed him next to him at table, calling him
friend, and treated him with the distinction due to a Sovereign. When
Bajazet, following fate's decree, departed to his ancestors, he had him
buried like a King, and raised a royal mausoleum over his ashes. Glory
be to Him who sees everything!"
* * * * *
The Comet disappeared, and did not destroy the Earth after all!
VALDIVIA
Valdivia is the name of a Chilian province; also of the river which
there pours down from the mountains into the plains: and likewise of a
city which is remarkable for its architecturally constructed
bamboo-bridge, and for the fact that every man you meet in the street is
called Rocca, and prides himself on his ancestors having been the
ancient rulers of Chili and walked about there barefooted. Now the
inhabitants have degenerated into wearing boots and they talk Spanish.
Even, however, after centuries of blood-mixture by intermarriage, the
men of the nation are still peculiar for a certain kind of beard which
grows very thin, whilst the women still possess somewhat bronzed
complexions and a love of ornamenting their hair with long feathers and
snake-skins. Although the male population retain a traditional fondness
for slaughtering an enemy when they get fairly hold of him, they no
longer, like their fathers, hunt the wild boar; this unfortunate animal,
indeed, having long since been hunted out of existence. The noble
Roccas, no longer occupied with the chase or war, have become merchants.
One, Bria Rocca, is a great sugar-planter; another, Marco Rocca, owns a
huge coal-mine; and a third, Alvarez Rocca, does a nice little business
in the slave trade.
The Rocca is a fine, powerfully built man, six feet in height, whom one
would not care to meet in a lonely road. The native woman is a handsome
creature with beautiful eyes, whom one would be charmed to meet in a
lonely road were it not that she is a little too quick in slapping one's
face.
Descendants of a long kingly lineage, these people to-day go about the
streets and along the banks of the river selling Spanish onions and
little trinkets.
The town of Valdivia, situated on the river, had a widely different
aspect three hundred years ago. At that time stood there the bamboo
palace of Bria Rocca, whose façade rested upon two mighty bamboos
resembling, in appearance, a couple of polished marble columns. The
whole palace was built of this same wood. Its walls were curiously
carved, and, but for its majestic dimensions, it might have reminded you
of the toy palaces you build in childhood. Its doors and windows were
made of interwoven tree branches, whilst its roof was thatched with
agave leaves. In front of the palace was a balcony where Bria Rocca was
accustomed to hold councils with the sages of his nation, and from this
balcony two doors opened into the interior. One of them led into the
apartment of Bria Rocca. It was an immense lofty room, and the ceilings
were lined with jaguar skins, while the walls were covered with the
skins of the black buffalo. Here and there hung axes and hatchets,
arrows, specimens of the dreaded tomahawk, sundry warlike weapons of
stone, and the deadly globe which, furnished with sharp teeth and
hurled at an enemy, would not leave his body until it had torn out his
heart. Finally, in a row, were ranged various trophies of victory,
including a blood-stained helmet which the king had worn.
The other door led into the queen's apartment. It was finely painted
with the dye obtained from the native indigo trees, whilst its ceilings
were covered with curiously woven mats. There were two magnificent
bedsteads in the room, remarkable for the beauty of their coverlets and
still more for that of the curtains with which they were hung; for had
not Queen Evoeva spun them with her own hand? It was no wonder that Bria
Rocca had chosen her to be his wife; for what woman in the land could
weave such gorgeous tapestry as she, or prepare such delicious cheese?
It was said of her, moreover, that in the whole dominions there was no
woman of such entrancing beauty, her eyes being ablaze with all the
colours of the finest opal; and if she only threw one momentary glance
through her long, dark eyelashes she could tame the fiercest tiger--and
even man himself. Her figure was exceedingly beautiful, and when she
danced before her husband she would gracefully curve her head backwards
and downwards until she could kiss her own heel. Yet she was wonderfully
powerful, and if she was suddenly attacked by a jaguar she would press
the beast to her bosom until she had crushed it to death. One might,
therefore, easily imagine how highly her embraces would be prized by a
man whom she was really in love with, and what pleasures would lurk in
one kiss from her sweet lips. Once, when the king had been poisoned in
the shoulder by an arrow, she herself sucked the poison out. She was,
consequently, very ill for a year afterwards, and the king, of course,
thenceforward loved her more passionately than ever.
* * * * *
In the happy land of Chili the trees never cast their beautiful green
leaves and the flowers never hide their heads in consequence of the
cold. The bears do not betake themselves to slumber during the winter
season; and the singing birds do not periodically fly away to a warmer
climate. Summer, in this region, is only distinguished from winter by
the fresh budding of the flowers, by the falling of cocoa-nuts from the
trees; by a glittering appearance assumed by the stem of the _hevea_
tree, which then sheds its juice in abundance; by the strewing of the
ground with the nuts of the urcur tree, and by the flowers of the _pao_
tree casting off their wool. There is no difference between the seasons
but these, except that winter means a six weeks' spell of rain.
About that time a great fête is held in honour of the gods of the
_hevea_, the _urcur_, and the _pao_, who have provided their chosen
people with so many good things. On this occasion the inhabitants would
cut open the bark of the hevea tree, from which would flow a white fluid
which, when boiled by the fire of the urcur nut, was changed into a
leathery solid, from which they manufactured all kinds of fancy articles
in order to sell them to the surrounding countries, who, not knowing the
secret of manufacture, were ready purchasers. On the day of the
festival the male inhabitants would wash their skin with the sticky
juice of the hevea, and then cover their bodies with the beautiful white
wool which comes from the pao-tree, whereupon they painted themselves
with gorgeous colours, and the whole covering looks as if it grew to
their flesh. The women were not, however, permitted to practise this
custom; they had to content themselves with ornamenting their necks with
rows of coral, their ears with snake-pendants, and their waist with a
girdle of long feathers.
When the flowers are beginning to open afresh, and the beautiful roses
for which this land has so long been famous commence to re-expand, then
the summer is approaching, and a fête is held in honour of the goddess
Morinka. The _morinka_ is a gigantic flower which, growing from the
bottom of the lake, expands the petals of its flower on the surface. So
huge is it that one single petal would suffice for the cradle of a
child, while a single flower will perfume the entire neighbourhood far
and wide.
At the time when the morinka commences to spread forth its beauty the
inhabitants bring sacrifices to the goddess, who, if in a good temper
and auspicious, causes the flower to expand freely and with great
beauty. In this case there will be a splendid harvest; but if the flower
is scanty and reluctant to open, then the goddess is angry--there will
be dearth, drought, and plague, and a foreign foe will invade the land.
The home of the Aruacans was indeed a happy land. The gigantic walls of
the Andes mountains surrounded it like a fortification, and the steep
mountain clefts cut it off from its neighbours, whose curiosity, desire
of conquest, and thirst for treasures made them long to explore its
unknown regions. It would have been useless for them to build bridges
across the tremendous waterfalls that tore up the mountain peaks; in
vain would they have made tunnels through the massive mountains; in vain
would they have constructed winding pathways over the ridges; a December
rain would have destroyed all man's labour. If that were not sufficient
to protect the country from invasion, the Andes mountains had four
mighty forts in addition--whose names were Maypo, Peteroa, Chollan, and
Antuco. They were volcanic mountains. If only one of these strongholds
would have started the campaign against the conquerors there would have
been an end to all toils of theirs; the roads would have been replaced
by precipices, while the valleys would be covered with lava and
icebergs; the plains would be concealed by avalanches dotted over them
like soap-bubbles; the entire district, with its cliffs and waterfalls,
would appear in a different light, as though in a huge kaleidoscope:
towering hills would have taken the place of running waters in the
mountain basin.
One day two hundred strangers appeared before Bria Rocca's town;
peculiar looking people--such indeed as the good inhabitants had never
yet beheld in their country. Straight to the Palace of Bria Rocca did
the two hundred horsemen ride along, in presence of curious crowds and
with sound of trumpet. Then the leader placed his soldiers in line, and
a respectful message that he should allow them to pay him their respects
was sent to the Cazcique. The leader's name was Valdivia, now for the
first time pronounced in that territory. Did not the land of Chili
tremble when she heard this name for the first time? Did not the river
swell? Did not the volcanic mountains which had lain dormant for a long
time burst out into violent eruption? No, oh no! They are deceived who
imagine that the soil is mother of her people and that she feels and
grieves over her sons' dangers. The soil is a coquette who delights in
strangers, reveals her bosom to them, and to them as to others gives her
bloom; she makes love to a new-comer and protects him from hostile
attacks; on the graves of her old admirers does she grow him flowers.
Why should she not in the present instance? Were not the Spaniards
stately men, superior to the ancient inhabitants? Their whole apparel
was bright, and sparkled; the sun could see himself in their glittering
buckles, the breeze found an attraction in their fluttering ribbons. And
how much more intellectual were they than the old inhabitants! Why, they
could actually hold communication by means of signs, and towards
whatever direction they desired could shoot out fire by means of metal
tubes; they could travel by ocean, and they knew those who lived beyond
it; they could build high-towered palaces from stones, and from small
threads they made delightful raiment; from seeds they prepared such
savoury dishes! Why should not the land prefer them to her old
inhabitants! Bria Rocca has already heard of the fame of those white
fairies--rumour travels unaided--for now Pizarro had long conquered
Peru, which is divided from Chili only by the snow-peaked Cordillera
mountains. He accorded a warm reception to Valdivia; he conducted him to
his palace, asked him to be seated on his finest bear-skin, and placed
before him the best coca drinks in cocoa-nut shells. And no one could
prepare them so well as Evoeva! Then Valdivia could talk the language of
the Redskins; he acquired their tongue and primitive phrases and could
talk as well as if he had been an Inca.
"Gentle Cazcique," he said to Bria Rocca, "brethren never come to visit
you with strong and friendly arms. In one hand they hold glittering
pearls and jewellery, which would gracefully adorn your women's necks,
also fire-concealing liquor which exhilarates the sad ones and
strengthens the feeble; it cools in hot weather, warms in cold. The
other hand contains sharp iron which would cut your shields, and
fire-throwing implements which aim from a distance! You can choose which
one you please. We do not ask much of you, only give us that little hill
you call Guelen, that we may build ourselves a shelter there, near the
Matocko river. Consider your reply to my proposal."
Bria Rocca puffed thrice from his hookah, and while looking through its
smoke, pondered what he should say.
"You remarked that you are white brethren and that you come with full
arms; in the one hand carry presents, in the other guns. We are
accustomed to catch monkeys in a similar manner; in one hand we hold
fruit, in the other spears, and when the animal approaches for the fruit
we hurl the spear at it. We desire not your presents--neither those from
the right hand nor those from the left. Our women are pretty enough
without your pearls, we are in good spirits without your liquors, and if
you have more effective guns we have stronger arms; and if you present
fire, we throw poison, which also brings death. If you wish for the
Guelen mountain in exchange for your pearls and liquors you will not get
it; if you ask it in return for sharp swords and fiery arrows, once
more, you will not get it; but if you ask it nicely, you can have it
gratis."
"What is the 'nice' phrase, gentle Cazcique?"
"That you will never do us any harm, that you will leave us in peace and
not destroy our forests."
Valdivia promised the Cazcique that they would remain faithful brethren,
and as a proof of eternal friendship they both drank water from the
river Matocko out of a pumpkin-shell. They then broke the shell and
divided its pieces as a token of the sealed friendship, the idea being
that just as the pumpkin-shell could not be put together without mutual
consent, so they themselves could not be happy the one without the
other. They finally smoked the pipe of peace and parted company.
Valdivia mounted his horse and his followers went away, leaving behind
them a cask filled with the "drink of wisdom"--the phrase by which the
Spaniards designated brandy when speaking of it to the Indians.
The Indian fathers asked Bria Rocca to divide the spirit amongst them,
in order that they might all taste it and become as wise as the white
people--"And such slaves as the Peruvians," thought Bria Rocca, though
he did not say so. The spirit of the great Tao-tum had blessed him with
the art of keeping judiciously silent. He poured out the spirit into a
large tank and placed all the curious people around it, remarking that
when he gave the signal they should bend down and drink to their hearts'
contents. Bria Rocca then lit a long camphor laurel switch, which burned
with a white flame, and twirled it round his head, thereafter dipping it
into the tank. Hardly had the burning shoot touched the tank's contents
when, in a moment, they became ignited, and the wonderful white
transparent liquid began to burn with a pale blue flame from every part
of the vessel's surface. The Indians recoiled in terror from this
strange phenomenon, but Bria Rocca thrust his switch into the flaming
fluid, and the blazing drops were spurted over their naked bodies like a
shower of fire-sparks. He then grasped the edge of the tank and poured
out from it the flaming liquid, which followed the Indians as they
retreated. Even those of them who managed to escape carried on their
heels some flames, and a certain amount they dropped at each step they
took. The good people asked no more to taste the wise men's spirit, and
the Spanish calabasse did not have the same destroying charm over them
as it did over their copper-coloured brethren.
* * * * *
In the Tlenoch legendary lore there was a strange and ancient tradition,
originated long before the Spaniards set foot on that soil. According to
one legend the Queczalcot gnome had appeared hundreds and hundreds of
years before in South America; its face was white, with a beard and
moustache, and it taught the people what herbs to eat, also chronology,
the use of copper, and the building of houses. The gnome remained there
for a century, spreading happiness all over the country. Then it
disappeared across the sea, towards the east, promising to return
hundreds of years thereafter, when it would teach much more. Well! the
legend has just been fulfilled. The blessed white-faced, black-bearded
descendants of Queczalcot have come, and have brought many nice things.
In the rich Aztec province of Tlenoch this teaching was very easy; the
Aztec tribe were already an extremely submissive people; they knew
already the value of gold and apparel; they had their own fashions and a
rich capital, which overlooked on one side a salt-water, and on the
other, a fresh-water, lake. Around the earth were built houses,
pyramids, and sacrificial _teocallis_, where at holiday time hundreds
and hundreds of their chosen men are sacrificed to their bloodthirsty
gods. Gold and men's lives were of small value, but pleasures were
expensive. No wonder, therefore, that the Spaniards taught them so
quickly how to appreciate their imported pleasures. But in Chili the
gold was still under the soil; the people were treading upon it, not it
upon them. Their hatred of foreigners existed from time immemorial, and
also the desire to preserve their ancient customs, which they
worshipped. So the Spaniards found them very bad pupils, their alluring
words were not appreciated by the old ones; their presents were not
esteemed by the young; the women's eyes refused to rest upon them. These
people could be subdued by bold and daring means only.
Valdivia gave wonderful presents to Bria Rocca for the Guelen
mountain--a fully caparisoned horse, a kingly present and one worthy of
acceptance being amongst the number. Cazcique could not refuse such a
gift, and after having learnt to ride was pleased to know how he looked
on horseback. At that time the proper use of the noble horse was unknown
to the Indians. Valdivia had calculated well. As soon as Bria Rocca
became possessed of his horse he rode about for several weeks upon the
Salt Plains, and employed his time in pursuing herds of musk-ox in the
high and luxuriant prairie grass, never dreaming that the Spaniards were
building a fort on the top of Mount Guelen. When the Morinka fête was
about to be held, Bria Rocca, according to established custom, ordered
every man to retire from the scene; the Morinka fête was for women only,
and no man's eye was allowed to witness it. On such occasions the people
would retire to the forests to hunt; in town none were left but children
and old women; the young married women and maidens were at the Morinka
lake, and nobody was allowed to disturb them. Let that man beware who
would dare to set eyes on this fête! He would carry the sentence of
death upon his face. Although he should hide in forest after forest yet
would he be traced out and killed for presuming to invade the Morinka
fête. The heavenly flower _morinka_ is herself goddess amongst flowers;
a most peculiar plant is she; eleven months of the year she reposes
under water, twelve feet beneath the surface. During this time she has
no actual existence. When her birthday arrives, which it never fails to
do, for it falls at that precise date when the day is longest and the
night shortest, all of a sudden the lake gets covered with brown and
orange-coloured bubbles a span long, which float on the surface like
many small boats. One day later the bubbles will burst open, and the
knotted membranes will expand, enormous cup-shaped leaves coming out,
whose inside is painted a pale carmine colour, which glitters on the
rich and fleshy fibres of the leaves like the inside of an autumn peach.
Its light green netted veins turn to a bright gold as they approach the
stamens, the leaves begin to develop with astonishing rapidity, and
spread on the water's surface like round tables. The pale carmine enamel
changes into a mild green colour, and the veins that from yellow and
lily colour have become carmine in netted form divide it up into 1000
squares. The tremendous leaves grow and extend with visible rapidity;
some of them are a fathom in width. Thus they cover the Morinka lake
with a wonderfully rich carpet, over which, indeed, one may walk to and
fro. The wide leaf may bend, but it will not become filled with water
under the tread. A man's weight is no more to it than is a butterfly's
to an ordinary flower. Ten days afterwards the buds--their huge closed
cups as large as a child's head--burst from under the leaf, resting
sideways owing to its weight. The outer leaves, which are white and
netted, are as large as melon slices; two days afterwards they have
changed to a pink colour, and on the night of the fourth day they burst.
The flower does not bend any more, but stands straight.
As the cup bursts open many white petals appear from the light pink
calyx. An indescribably sweet perfume spreads all over the district; and
so intoxicatingly delicious a sensation does it produce upon those who
have inhaled its pure and virgin fragrance that a woman forgets she is a
woman and imagines herself a fairy. On the fifth and sixth days the
flower opens quite, and one petal after another develops; on the seventh
day it appears in its fullest glory.
The petals have snow-white branches, coloured deep red; their centre is
of a rich gold colour, containing thousands of thready moulds. The
length of the calyx is then from three to four spans. The Morinka fête
takes place on the night when the flower opens. It is held at new moon,
under a dull sky; for so sensitive to light are the petals of our fairy
plant that with the moon's light even they open but half-way; when the
sun shines they shrink together again; but the stars' cold glitter is
very dear to them, as also are those star mimics which are visible from
afar, and whose virgin brilliancy does not affect the picturesque
senses, I mean the fire-fly.[4]
[Footnote 4: By the most serious people of serious Europe, this plant
has been named "the Queen." _Victoria Regina_ is the name by which it is
called. It is to be found in royal collections only.]
When the flowers begin to burst open millions of fire-flies appear by
the lake--attracted perhaps, by the perfume; possibly they are born with
the flower, so that each may be fated to take delight in the other. Now
the tremendous calyx, with a light green colour like diamond glitter,
bends to and fro. Nature's artistic hand has ornamented its crown with
precious stones, for thousands of dewdrops, those stars of floral
creation, are glittering from the petals, while the fire-flies are
continually flitting from one leaf to another, thus forming a fairy-like
walk; on the majestic flower glistens the sovereign fire-fly, the
magnificent _avra_, the lenten insect, on whose glittering colours the
petal shades are thrown. The night is moonless, but rich in stars; the
surface of the Morinka lake is covered with a green leaf carpet, on
which many little stars are shining as if in heaven above. The dense
banana grove that surrounds the enchanting lake gives it the appearance
of a temple encircled by thousands of green columns. And the surface of
the lake forms a magnificent altar, whence, from the gigantic calyx, the
most delicate sacrifice, the most delightful odour, rises to heaven. By
the sides of the lake, on a grassy plot, the Indian women solemnise the
sacrificial rites. Thousands of the most beautiful virgins and childless
women, placed in three circles, dance about and sing praises to the
Great Spirit who brought forward the budding season of the
water-flowers, and who awakes the feeling of the slumbering heart.
Whoever saw them from a distance would imagine them to be fairy circles.
Each woman had a chain of glittering gems round her neck. These in fact
consisted of many hundred Brazilian insects, which the Indian women
strung upon thread and used as neck-ornaments. The colours of the
insects were continually changing from green and marigold to a ruby hue,
and _vice versâ_, and surpassed in brilliancy the most precious stones.
In the midst of the circle stood Queen Evoeva. She was distinguished by
her wearing three insect chains on her neck. Round her waist, too, was
arranged a broad girdle, ornamented with many dazzling insects; their
light was not, however, sufficiently great to allow one to see the
shadow cast by this charming woman. In her dark hair there glittered a
splendid "lampyris," whose moon-shaped light was thrown upon the lovely
creature's face, to which it imparted a pale serenity.
Could one have seen those women one would have imagined they were
fairies. But who would have presumed to approach them? Would not the
Great Spirit have been enraged at the breaking of a divine command?
Indeed an Indian would not have dared to do this, even were he an enemy.
A Spaniard, however, does it, though a friend.
All of a sudden wild noises of men were heard in the banana groves; the
women, frightened, rushed into one group. "Men, it seems," cried they,
"have broken into the Holy Grove on the eve of the Morinka fête." It was
Valdivia with one hundred and fifty of his comrades. When Queen Evoeva
recognised the Spaniards she stepped forward with stately tread, and
boldly asked Valdivia how they dared appear on the sacred ground while
the Morinka fête was being held, and when every man was required to keep
at a respectful distance. Valdivia's reply was to embrace the queen's
beautiful form, and to implant a kiss upon her cheek, burning with fury.
"Ah!" shouted the Indians, "our queen has been kissed by a strange
man--a kiss has reached her lip on the eve of Morinka! The kiss of a
_strange man_!" The Indian women madly attacked Valdivia and his
comrades and began a severe struggle for her majesty. Here, then, was a
conflict between feeble, naked women, unarmed, and strong mailed men.
With nails and teeth did the former fight, like wild beasts, considering
but little the wounds which they themselves received. The Spaniards were
obliged to have recourse to arms against those enraged attacking ones,
and before long red streams were flowing towards the Morinka
lake--streams of women's blood. But Evoeva was freed from Valdivia's
grasp, and one moment gave her time to jump into the lake, whose surface
was covered with huge nymphean leaves. These clod themselves upon her
and did not part asunder again. Hundreds upon hundreds of women followed
the queen's example, throwing themselves into the lake to escape their
pursuers. The Spaniards saw none rise to the surface; the nymphic leaves
floated there as before. But the women swam under the smooth leaf-carpet
to the river's mouth; the river emptied itself into the lake, and
farther up formed a waterfall ten fathoms in height; across this the
women proceeded. Those only escaped who were neither dashed by the rocks
nor suffocated by the waterfall.
* * * * *
Bria Rocca was until late evening pursuing a jaguar--which he contrived
to reach and kill--on the wild plains. It was nightfall when he returned
with his men and reached the banks of the Mapocho river, where they
encamped.
Bria Rocca led his horse to the river to drink. The noble animal had
been moving about quickly the whole day and was very thirsty; but as
soon as it bent its head towards the water it retreated and galloped to
its master, shaking all over; then, tossing its mane from side to side,
it broke into a violent snorting. The king thought that the horse had
smelt an alligator in the stream, and conducted it to another part; but
she manifested the old signs of aversion. "There is blood in the water,
Bria Rocca, woman's blood; your horse dreads it, and that is why he
refuses to drink." It was now midnight, but still a light seemed to
shine from the forest. "Look how soon it gets light now!" said the
Indians, awaking from their dreams. "It is not daybreak, nor is it the
flames of a burning forest." The king's town was in flames, and beneath
that spot where the sky seemed brightest blazed the royal palace. The
strangers had set it on fire! Towards daybreak there was great commotion
in the grove. At first a few crying children rushed thither and awoke
the slumbering camp. These informed his majesty that the white strangers
had disturbed their dreams and made fire on the roofs of their homes,
and that those who could not run away were slain. Then came other
messengers to Bria Rocca, and the heads of slaughtered women and
children could be seen floating down the river. These could not speak to
the king, but sufficient could be gathered from their silent
communication.
Bria Rocca stood on the river bank, resting on his axe and looking at
the floating human remains. All around the following raving noise was
heard, "It is all up with Matocka town; the dreaded of the Guelen
mountain have by stealth broken into it and bombarded it with metal
dragons; they have killed the children, carried away the women, and
burnt down the king's palace."
The King himself replied quickly, "If the Great Spirit desires that Bria
Rocca should bathe his feet in blood, and should warm himself at his
town's flame, Bria Rocca is silent and refrains from shedding tears."
The old people told his majesty that the white men from the Papua and
Omagua tribes had secretly collected in force in the Guelen mountain,
and during the Morinka fête, when all had withdrawn to the forest, had
attacked every village of Bria Rocca and destroyed them; and that
Valdivia was proclaimed master of the country. The King quietly
replied, "If the Great Spirit desires that Bria Rocca's people should
leave their kingdom, Bria Rocca refrains from shedding tears."
Lastly, there became visible on the Mapocko river rush-boats, on which
the women who had escaped, with their tiny children--many of whom, that
possibly life might again appear, were still pressed to their mother's
breasts, dead from the strokes of the enemy--lay terror-stricken and
furious.
Now approached the king's wife, the beautiful Evoeva. Her black hair
hung loosely over her face in order that her shame might be covered. The
women grasped Bria Rocca's hand with great fury, pointing to Evoeva.
"Look," said they, "here is your wife; her cheeks were kissed by a
strange man."
Bria Rocca's lips paled, and every vein on his temples became swollen;
yet the war-lance did not move in his hand. He resignedly answered the
women, "If the Great Spirit desires that I shall not behold Evoeva any
more Bria Rocca is content and never will look at her again."
Whilst saying these words he covered with a skin the wife who knelt at
his feet, and turned away from her. The Indians seized their arms and,
beating upon their shields, vowed vengeance upon the strangers. Bria
Rocca approached them softly, and said:
"Let your arms rest; this day we have lost, let our enemies gain it; it
is to-day the fight of kings against beggars whose lances are weak as
straw. Let them have happiness, splendid towns, fine women and
children, and abundance of earthly treasure. At present they have
nothing to give us in return for this evening's gift. Let us wait until
they have."
* * * * *
Ten years have elapsed since Bria Rocca's palace was burnt, and since
then many changes have taken place in Chili. Valdivia has occupied Chili
in the name of Pizarro; then he goes over to the king's side and helps
to overthrow Pizarro, and as a reward receives the Viceroyalty of Chili.
A portion of the province which he had first conquered was named
Valdivia, and also that river from which Bria Rocca's horse refused to
drink. The splendid city too, which was built on the site of the ancient
bamboo town of Bria Rocca, was named Valdivia. This Valdivia gave quite
a different appearance to the whole district. Stone-made roads,
constructed by European adventurers, were laid, and from town to town
people have ploughed and gathered in the earth's produce, and have
exposed the precious metal of the mountains, just as if they were really
quite at home. Nobody has disturbed them in their work; the
copper-coloured persons have disappeared, not a sound of them can be
heard in the forest, nor a trace of their footsteps observed on the
ground--like a crowd of grasshoppers before a seven-days' rain have they
become entirely destroyed.
Perhaps they have gone up to the mountains or into the wastes of the
interior, where the Golden Land has already sprung into existence, and
concerning which so many wonderful stories have been related to
adventurous Spaniards about the monks Cabeça de Vaca and Niça: where
wild people were walking about in civilised clothing, where the towns
were laid out with emerald and turquoise, and whose fort Cibolla was ten
miles long.
Some people who tried to find out this remarkable land, never returned
from it. In the time of Valdivia the Spanish imagination became excited
about this El Dorado. If any wondered how Bria Rocca's people
disappeared, without leaving a trace behind them, they could console
themselves with the fact that they were now very happy, and that they
had gone in search of brethren to Cibolla town, where they were now
wallowing in milk and honey. Although they wondered why they could not
follow the Indians, the Spaniards now quietly settled in Chili; they
have ceased to dig trenches round the town, and to post guards along the
roads; they no longer teach their bloodhounds to scent out the
two-footed wild animal; there is peace and tranquillity in the whole
country. The merchants count out their money and the great lords
lavishly spend it; pretty women walk about in silks, and little children
ride on their fathers' knees. Yes, yes! the Spaniards have
everything--riches, happiness, and splendid towns, also beautiful women
and tiny, chattering offspring. . . . .
"Let us wait until they can repay us," said Bria Rocca.
* * * * *
A new lake would be found, and the waterfalls would have cut for
themselves new passages. Still, Bria Rocca's people have taken refuge
there with their herds and flocks, whilst the eager searchers for El
Dorado have failed to discover the way to fairyland. The Chilian volcano
has rested for a hundred years, and only a few craters have shown from a
distance that he too was one of those gigantic bombarders of the heavens
who now rests conquered. But perhaps he sleeps merely--such great beings
dream long. Whilst, then, he is thus dreaming, the Southern voluptuous
plants have entwined themselves round about him, and every kind of grass
and tree derives nourishment from his presence; at his foot a forest of
red cedar has formed, and on his head tamarisk bushes live and flourish.
From the autumn greenery which covers the mountain, dark caverns peep
out. These are the mouths of ancient lava-streams by which one might get
at the mountain's heart. According to the stories of the Omagua tribes,
it was through such that the Aruacans made their way to the Cordillera
interior. There were always a few adventurers who attempted to penetrate
these caverns in search of the Golden Land, but they, as a rule, never
returned, and nobody troubled about them. Once, however, two monks,
accompanied by an Indian who understood the language, left Sant-Jago in
search of this mysterious country. Had all three disappeared, no one
would have made much ado; but it so happened that the Indian returned
soon afterwards without the monks. He was interrogated on the subject,
but he merely said that his comrades had perished--in what way he
declined to tell. He had sworn by the great teeth of Mahu-Mahu that he
never should divulge the secret. Valdivia had him placed on the bench of
torture, and it appears that he felt the thumb-screwing instruments,
and boiling oil had greater effect upon him than the big teeth of
Mahu-Mahu, and so he promised to disclose everything. According to his
story he and his comrades, after they had provided themselves with
torchlights, entered the Chillon cavern, where, after proceeding a few
hundred yards, they discovered on the moist soil the footprints of
Aruacans. They knew them to be theirs, for they were marked by
india-rubber heels, worn as a rule by the Aruacans to protect them from
serpents. As they advanced further the cavern got wider in extent, and
from its steep sides great rocks stood out. The descent, which became
steeper and steeper as they advanced, was crossed by a stream that one
could hear but not see from the cavern's mouth. Over this stream a
bamboo suspension bridge become visible later on, similar to that which
the Aruacans had erected over the Matocka river.
The volcanic footpaths got more and more difficult to tread upon, and at
times he and his companions were obliged to climb upon the rocks, as if
they were trying to ascend a mountain.
Finally the opening became so narrow that two men could hardly walk
through it, and there they reached a spot that seemed hollowed out
beneath. They advanced further when the earth gave way, and they all
fell down to the cavern depths. It was a trap from which there was no
escape. After they had for a few hours vainly endeavoured to rise from
this pitfall, they suddenly heard sounds of voices, and--recognised the
Aruacans. They recognised them from the wool which covered their
bodies. The Indians pulled them up with long ropes, blindfolded them,
and bound their hands behind their backs, driving them on between two
tough trees. Ere long the echo from the narrow passage ceased, and the
atmosphere revealed to them that they were in the open air. When their
eyes were unfolded they saw they were in the Chillon crater. It was a
dreadful smoking valley, with a funnel-like descent, whose sides were
then just as bare as when the last eruption had taken place.
All around there were red-brown stone piles, quite burnt out--dead for
ever--on which no plant could live. Not even a piece of moss or of
lichen was to be seen upon them.
Lower down the valley got compressed, and on its sides numberless small
holes, like wasps' nests, were visible. Neither grass nor flower could
be observed anywhere--nothing of that kind, indeed, but a few pale green
trees scattered about at intervals. These were upas-trees, in the poison
of whose sap the Indians dip their spears. Every surrounding plant had
been killed by their exhalations, so that they alone grew in the valley.
On the sides of this dreadful valley a wide, hollow border was to be
seen; it represented the last active volcano; in appearance it resembled
the gallery of a great amphitheatre. On this gallery stood the Aruacan
fathers with Bria Rocca. Under it was formed a sort of semicircle, where
many large china jugs might be seen placed near one another, whose
mouths were for the most part covered with india-rubber; some were
open. As the captives were brought before Bria Rocca two such jugs were
procured, and the two monks, tied to a couple of columns, were then
killed with two long axes, similar to those with which the Aruacans cut
the hevea-trees. Their blood poured out into the jugs; their bodies were
thrown down the precipice. After this the Indians carried away the jugs
with the blood and placed them near the others. Soon thereafter numerous
serpents peeped out of holes in the walls: in appearance they were like
cigars. A traveller who does not know this serpent might be deceived,
and, imagining it a cigar, pick it up--which would mean death. One bite
from this serpent is fatal. These dreaded reptiles crept in thousands
into the jugs in which the murdered Spaniards' blood had been placed,
and when they filled them two Indians approached and carefully put two
india-rubber covers over them, so as to prevent their exit.
They meant at first to kill the priest's dusky guide, but Bria Rocca
said that black blood was useless, and they let him go. But he had to
swear by the great Mahu Mahu that he should not tell a soul what he had
seen; if he did tell, the Aruacans would come for him in tens of
thousands, and they would not be particular as to who was white and who
black. So they let him go through the same way as he and the monks came
in, and he could not say how he got out of the crater.
Of course, nobody believed a word of the Indian's story, and they
believed that he himself killed the monks and invented a fable. It was
all a tissue of lies, they thought, and the unfortunate man was pinned
to a stake outside Sant-Jago.
* * * * *
The Indian's story had long been forgotten in Chili. Valdivia returned
with glory and overwhelmed with distinction from Peru, and settled down
to live peacefully in the town which bore his name. He dispersed his
troops amongst the various towns and settlements, and he had hardly more
than three hundred soldiers left with him. These, moreover, got out of
practice, as they seldom had occasion to handle the gun.
All of a sudden, on a still and quiet night, a wild noise awoke the
peaceful inhabitants of Valdivia. Frantic shouting came from the
surrounding hills, and all around the farm-buildings were set on fire;
the faces of hundreds of people were distinguished by the flames. "The
Aruacans have returned!" were the words, distractedly uttered, that
sounded through the town, and that also reached Valdivia's palace. Yes,
the Aruacans _have_ returned--to ask for an explanation regarding the
presumption of building a town over the graves of their ancestors; and
Bria Rocca was there to inquire who it was that killed thousands of his
subjects, and also who it was that kissed the cheek of Evoeva. The
attack was so sudden and unexpected that there was no time to report the
great danger to the adjoining town; and before Valdivia had time to draw
his sword all the hills surrounding the town were occupied by thousands
of the Red Indians. There was only one outlet from the town through
which the Spaniards might have escaped, and it seemed as if the Indians
had purposely left that unguarded. The Spaniards were not, however, to
be led into a trap, rightly thinking that it would have been folly to
throw themselves upon thousands of wild and enraged Indians, who would
have despatched them with their poisonous spears; they, therefore, drew
up their guns on the fortification walls. How, possibly, can the simple
arrows of the Indians compete with such weapons?
The Indians occupied all the adjoining hills, and had they had guns in
their possession they could very easily have fired into the town.
Valdivia's men looked quietly down from the rampart walls, for they
observed that the Indians had no storming engines with which they might
attack the stronghold.
Bria Rocca's tent was erected on a hill concealed from view by huge
cocoa-palms, from which Valdivia's palace could be seen. At the Indian
chief's command the brown leaves of eight trees were pulled down, and
the trunks of the trees were cut open to the extent of several feet in
width; then were tied to their tops long ropes of sap-wood, the other
end of the ropes being twisted round a potter's wheel which was made to
turn by means of long rods. Under the influence of these ropes the trees
got quite bent and their tops touched the ground. Then the Indians
placed some strange-looking vessels into the hollows of the trunks; the
mouths of these vessels were covered over with india-rubber. Bria Rocca
next pulled his axe from his belt and cut the ropes in twain. The palm
trunks flew up with great force, and with a tremendous noise the jugs
that had been placed in the tree-hollows shot into the market-place of
Valdivia. Each tree discharged its dangerous bombs as did the others.
Oh, what a curse those bombs proved! Thousands upon thousands of
poisonous serpents escaped from the broken jugs and, maddened by white
man's blood, rushed at the people in every direction. Guns were of no
avail when dealing with these cursed little monsters. The bloodthirsty,
devil-moved insects crept up the legs of the horses, and getting beneath
the armour killed their riders. They swarmed all over the streets and
streamed into the houses, killing the women and children and those who
could not fly from them. In one hour's time Valdivia had more dead than
fighting men. Valdivia himself became desperate and mounted his horse,
and, accompanied by a hundred horsemen, proceeded towards the gate
leading to Sant-Jago, that gate which the Indians had left unguarded. He
heard the triumphant shouts of the Indians and saw before him the
ancient forest shooting out flames in hundreds of directions. He was
surrounded! The enraged Indians followed him up behind, and in front the
burning forest cut off the means of escape. His companions rode away in
alarm; they preferred to die fighting, not in this manner. Valdivia
thought it best to boldly cut his way through the burning forest, and so
effect his escape--or perish in the attempt. The Indians pursued him to
the edge of the forest, but seeing how boldly he galloped through the
flames they nearly all held back there. One man only attempted to
pursue him further--namely, Bria Rocca. The Spanish horses on which both
were mounted did not fear the fire. Burning foliage fell over them and
little embers glowed under their feet; still the two horses wildly
plunged forward, step for step. Valdivia did not even look back, and he
did not, therefore, observe the Indian chief when he threw a long
harpoon spear at him. This spear entered his body, and when it was
pulled out the heart came away along with it.
* * * * *
The spot on which Valdivia stood was strewn with the charred ruins of
the burned town, and there--on that gloomy space--Bria Rocca, after ten
years' mourning, held a feast in honour of the injured Goddess Morinka.
He sent for his wife Evoeva, whom he had thrust away from him, and upon
whose countenance he had not gazed for ten years; and when he had
embraced her he presented her with a tambourine and a flute of bone, as
well as a cup filled with native wine. Then he said: "This is a day of
great rejoicing, Evoeva. To-day you must sing, drink and dance. Strike
upon this tambourine, blow the flute, empty the cup--the tambourine is
made from Valdivia's skin, the flute is his bone, the cup his head."
* * * * *
Up to the present day the Aruacan's country has remained unconquered.
BIZEBAN
Such is the name of the deaf and dumb boy who waits upon the Sultan.
The art of manufacturing these _bizebans_ is very simple, and at Gozond
there are several hundred professors of it who find it lucrative enough.
From poor people, who possess families, they buy children, at ten or
twenty rupees apiece--mere infants a twelvemonth old. As yet, of course,
they cannot talk. These men begin by pouring into the ears of the little
creatures a fluid prepared from herbs, which renders them absolutely
deaf. Two-thirds of the children die under the process. Those which
survive are valuable articles of commerce. Having lost their hearing
they can, of course, no longer learn to talk, and they remain dumb, as
well as deaf, for life. These children, as they grow up, see the world
around them but cannot comprehend what they see. Their native
intelligence cannot become developed: they are like human beings from
whom the soul has been snatched. These soulless boys are very valuable
articles in the seraglio. They are always hovering around the Sultan. In
the most secret chambers they are in attendance; the most valuable
documents are entrusted to their care; and beneath their eyes passes all
the private correspondence between the Sultan and his confidential
advisers. They do not hear a syllable of any conversation--of such a
thing as speech they have no conception. How can they imagine what those
peculiarly shaped letters mean which their eyes behold? There is no
corresponding knowledge or intelligence within them which would render
this possible; and the few things which they both see and understood,
they could not communicate to other people.
Such were the unfortunate _bizebans_. Nevertheless they were dressed in
purple and silk robes. Long chains of pearls hung from their neck, and
they were fed upon what overflowed from the Sultan's own table. In all
respects they were treated with especial consideration--like monkeys or
parrots which are kept as playthings.
These creatures, deprived of soul, know how to do one or two things, but
no more. They understand that they must remain on guard at a certain
post and not move thence; they can carry a certain article to a certain
place; they can cut the Sultan's nails to beautiful fine points and
adjust his turban--such is the utmost limit of their accomplishments.
They are indeed like dogs, taught to fetch and carry things for their
masters in their mouth.
Before Sultan Mustapha II. ascended the throne he already possessed a
number of _bizebans_. One of these was his especial favourite--a boy who
was quite superior to the rest and who excited more sympathy; for in
his big, dreamy eyes so much sentiment and intelligence was visible that
it seemed sad that he could not be taught to feel and think like a human
being. Like other _bizebans_ he had no name. Why should a _bizeban_ have
a name? He won't hear it even if it is addressed to him.
As a rule the _bizeban_ also fulfilled the office of eunuch, and walked
freely into the seraglio. Prince Mustapha used often, by the hand of his
pet _bizeban_, to send to his sister, the beautiful Saliha, presents of
a certain kind of very choice melon which only grew in the Sultan's
garden and concerning which fruit a very sad story was told.
One day, noticing that one melon was missing from the beds, the Sultan
had all his gardeners tortured that the culprit might confess his theft.
Then, when this experiment failed, he had seven of them cut open. To no
purpose; but when the eighth was ripped up fragments of the melon were
revealed, which was very fortunate, as a few hundred other servants
would, but for this, have been treated likewise.
The lovely Saliha was a very kind-hearted creature. She thought her
brother's _bizeban_ was a very sweet and gentle little thing, and she
did not hesitate to pet him. She tried to make him understand this and
that, and he seemed to have a very quick intelligence. Why should he not
one day possess a soul? This idea occurred to her as she was walking, on
one occasion, in the shrubbery. Could she not give back to him the soul
of which he had been deprived, could she not teach him the alphabet? If
she showed him a certain letter and then pointed to some object with
which he was familiar could he not by degrees be made acquainted with
the world?
Saliha made the experiment. She found it a very pleasant recreation, for
life in the seraglio is extremely monotonous.
We have heard that prisoners in their dungeons have even taught spiders
to dance at the sound of music (and the seraglio as a place of detention
is scarcely more exhilarating than a dungeon). Why should not the deaf
and dumb boy prove as apt as a spider? At her first essay, Saliha was
amazed to see how the soul of the _bizeban_ began to expand. He grasped
anything in a moment. Once shown the alphabet he could afterwards trace
out each letter on the ground. Once shown the name of a certain article
he never forgot it. This success encouraged Saliha to further attempts.
Would it not be possible to speak to the _bizeban_? But how could the
speaking be done so that no beholder comprehended it? Ah! with the
hands! The human hand has five fingers, and their variety of motion, as
they open and shut, is such that the entire alphabet might thereby be
distinctly expressed. Saliha determined to teach the boy to converse
with her by means of his fingers; and the success of her experiments
exceeded her expectations. He quickly learned the secret signs. It was
delightful to Saliha; and she determined to get amusement out of it too.
She would extract from the _bizeban_ secrets concerning her brother
which he thought no one living knew, and then she would tease this
relative by pretending that she had discovered them through the mystic
words of the Cabala. Who could ever dream of suspecting a _bizeban_ who
was deaf and dumb?
After the death of Osman, Prince Mustapha ascended the throne. His
youthful gaiety now quickly fled--his shoulders began to bend beneath
the weight of the Turkish Empire, which was then already in a tottering
condition, with enemies on every side.
At that time the country possessed a great statesman in the person of
Raghib Pasha, whose potent hand had preserved the empire from
destruction. It was he who crushed the forces of the rebellious Egyptian
princes and laid the province at the feet of the Padishah. Raghib was
not only a hero in war, he was also a famous poet and the greatest
scholar in the land. Historians describe him, in his character of
statesman, as a "leader of leaders," _szad rul vezir_, and in that of
writer as the "Prince of Roumelian poets". (_Sultani suari Rum_). In his
gigantic work entitled _Zezinet Olulum_ ("Ship of Knowledge") all the
legends are collected which had lain scattered about the Arab plains. It
was he who founded the splendid library which bears his name.
At the time of which we now write, Saliha was in the very springtide of
her beauty--like the lotus-flower which opens its petals before the dew
of dawn. Sultan Mustapha could not have given Raghib Pasha a greater
reward than by bestowing upon him the hand of his lovely sister; and as
to whether he inspired her with real affection I need only say that he
was fifty-nine when he married her and that she loved him so much that
when he died her mind became deranged.
Raghib Pasha ruled not only over the Mussulmans but also over the ruler
of the Mussulmans, for he had divined the Sultan's thoughts--yes, his
innermost thoughts.
It was the Sultan's habit not to retire at night to his bedchamber until
he had recorded, in a voluminous diary, all the events of the day and
his impressions concerning them. This book he habitually kept in the
secrecy of his own room, and the _bizeban_ watched over it until the
morning. To whom would it ever have occurred that the deaf and dumb from
birth could read, or that he could communicate the written lines to some
one else? In the room where this diary was kept there was a little
window which opened into the _khazoda_, the Sultan's place of worship.
But it was so shut off from view by various corridors as to be only
visible from the seraglio. Every evening, just as the Sultan was leaving
his apartments in order to go and say his final prayers in this
sanctuary, the murzims were accustomed to strike seven times with a
hammer a bell without a tongue. Then the Imam who stood before the altar
would say: "Ahamdu lillahi Rabbil alemum" ("Grace descends from Heaven,
which rules over all"). Thereupon the congregation would fall on their
faces. They remained prostrate until the Sultan reached the door; when
the Imam would exclaim: Allehú ekber! ("The Lord is powerful"), and all
present rose to their feet. During the period of prostration a secret
hand would be stretched out from the little window we have mentioned,
and would make all kinds of signs. No one noticed this hand, except
Saliha, who carefully watched its mysterious movements whilst she was
upon her knees. From these signs she knew everything that the Sultan had
that day recorded in his diary; and the very same night she would
whisper the information to her husband.
Raghib Pasha was a wise man, who knew how to keep such information
secret. He thereby learned who his enemies were and managed to clear
them out of his way. He got to know the wishes of the Sultan and could
long before anticipate them. Everything he did was done in the name of
the Sultan: the pomp and glory which he himself achieved he allowed
people to ascribe to his Sovereign, and he even made Mustapha imagine
that he ruled; whereas the feeble-hearted monarch was a mere puppet in
the hands of his skilful Grand Vizier.
In his poems Raghib extolled the Sultan for his mighty and politic
deeds--eulogised him for inspecting the navy and the military magazines,
for increasing the nation's revenue by 6,000,000 piastres, and doing
other things which Raghib himself had in fact done on his own account.
Throughout Turkey, throughout Europe, it was known well enough that, not
the Sultan, but his Minister, ruled at Stamboul; it was only Mustapha
who did not know it.
One day Raghib's enemies, Hamil Pasha, Bahir Mustapha, and Mohamed Emin,
who were jealous of the Minister's great power, said to the Sultan:
"This man only calls you Sultan in mockery. He does everything without
you, just as if the State were his. He has just concluded, without your
knowledge, an alliance with the ruler of one of the infidel empires--an
alliance which, although it may prove the destruction of other
unfaithful nations, he should never have dared to make before obtaining
the consent of his monarch, in whose presence he is nothing but dust."
It was Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, who, believing in the
wisdom of the distinguished Minister, had invited his alliance, and the
documents ratifying it had already been signed. Had that alliance been
allowed to continue, perhaps the crescent of Turkey would have risen
again. But the heart of Mustapha had been perturbed by these malicious
whisperings. When the traitors had left him he said nothing, but simply
ordered his _bizeban_ to bring him his diary, wherein he proceeded to
record his impressions of the day. Then, shutting the book and giving it
to the _bizeban_, he went to evening prayers. On this occasion the hand
appeared at the little window and made certain signs which Saliha
watched intently. They said: "Escape, Raghib. The Sultan knows of your
letter to the Prussian king. To-morrow your head will be cut off and
your documents confiscated."
The Sultan returned from his profound devotions with a lightened heart.
No one, he said to himself, knew his secret, and to-morrow morning he
would send his executioner to fetch him Raghib's head. Yes, he longed to
possess that head ignominiously severed from its trunk.
But when the executioner reached the Grand Vizier's residence, he found
there his dead body, which could no longer be killed. On his table lay a
letter addressed to the Sultan and enclosed in a velvet envelope. It was
taken to the Sovereign with the news that the Minister had been found
dead. The letter ran thus:
"Mustapha, the Omniscient has vouchsafed, in His
mysterious providence, to let me know that you wished
to kill me because, without your knowledge, I
concluded, for the benefit of your dominion, an
alliance with the King of Prussia. I did not run away
from death; I simply anticipated it. I consider I have
lived long enough in order to die fitly now, and long
enough not to be forgotten. All the documents at my
palace I have burned. You will see what I have done
for your country; the rest will be said when we meet
in presence of the great Prophet."
The Sultan was paralysed with wonder and fear. How could that secret,
which had been locked up only in his own heart, have been divined by
Raghib? First he accused the _dsins_ (Christian prophets), then the
Hindoo soothsayers, then the interpreters of dreams--then the very pen
with which he had written. How could he dream that the deaf and dumb
could speak?
When Mustapha endeavoured to further the alliance with the King of
Prussia, this great ruler of the infidels replied that there had until
recently been one wise man in Turkey, but that he did not now propose
to do business with fools. This was a bitter humiliation to the
Sultan--to think that his late slave could have procured an alliance
which was contemptuously refused to the King of Kings!
Mustapha frequently lamented the loss of Raghib, and was constantly
tortured by the mystery whereby the secret of his heart had been
penetrated. After the Grand Vizier's death the _bizeban_ ceased to
communicate to Saliha the secrets of the Sultan. He had no longer any
motive to do so.
First came Hamil, who only, however, remained Grand Vizier for six
months, when he was executed for his negligence; and chroniclers relate
of him that he let the empire go as it pleased, doing it neither good
nor harm. Then followed the head of Bahir Mustapha. It was cut off for
his barbarity. The third was Mohamed Emin, whom the Sultan beheaded for
cowardice on the battlefield. Mustapha shed tears over the loss of his
three Grand Viziers--but not on their personal account, for he had never
forgotten Raghib, who was so wise, brave, and noble; and whenever he
beheaded one of his Grand Viziers he would always think of the
unfortunate Raghib.
The _bizeban_ laughed within himself; for the deaf and dumb can laugh
when they are alone. His secret no one ever knew.
THE MOONLIGHT SOMNAMBULIST
Pozdordy was one of the best known and respected farmers in the province
of B----, and the surrounding gentry were accustomed to visit him at his
picturesque homestead. The frequency of their visits was, however, due
chiefly to the circumstance that he was possessed of a lovely daughter.
This maiden, besides being enchantingly beautiful, was as proud as a
queen.
It was quite natural that the young men from round and about should be
helplessly in love with her and willing to hazard life itself in the
hope of winning such a prize. But many as were the rival suitors, they
all at last had to give way to one upon whom Etelka bestowed her
preference, and that preference could not be divided either in two or
more parts. As a matter of fact no objection could have been made
against her choice, for it fell upon such a man as is generally regarded
as the ideal of a woman's dreams. He was of fine stature, tall,
well-proportioned, no longer young, it is true, but far from his
decline. He was a retired major, and bore himself with a faultless
military carriage. His manners were polished, his education extensive,
and his wit by no means inferior. He was good-hearted, patriotic, and
keen in business matters; he did not gamble, neither did he run into
debt--in fact, from top to toe, you could not find a fault in him.
Of course the various competitors for the hand of Etelka had to bow
before her decision, they could not help themselves; but one of them, in
his fierce dissatisfaction, vowed inwardly that he would not yield the
prize so easily. This rival was a young man who fancied that Etelka had
regarded him with a degree of favour which was only second to that which
she had bestowed on the victorious Major.
But Mogyorôdy, the malcontent in question, knew that Major Duránczy was
very handy with rapier and pistol and did not care to be trifled with.
He therefore determined to use diplomacy. He paid a friendly sort of
visit to the father of Etelka, and spent the evening with him. Pozdordy
had a pretty good suspicion as to why the visitor had come.
In due course the conversation turned upon Duránczy.
"A very nice fellow indeed, isn't he?" said the farmer.
"Oh, yes," replied Mogyorôdy, who at the same time made a grimace which
betrayed his real opinion.
The farmer, who was evidently uneasy at the young man's obvious
jealousy, exclaimed:
"But you have nothing to say against him?"
"Oh, no, nothing in the world!"
"But you have something on your mind. It is true he's not so youthful as
you, but he is not yet old."
"Oh, no, he's in the prime of life."
"Do you wish to imply that there is anything against his past?"
"No; for who amongst us has not got a past?"
"Perhaps you wish to make out that he is only marrying Etelka for her
money?"
"By no means."
"Do you accuse him of being a gambler?"
"He never touches cards."
"A spendthrift?"
"He is the very reverse--stares on both sides of every halfpenny before
he parts with it."
"Do you think him lazy?"
"No, a model of plodding industry."
"Then what is amiss with his character?"
"It is perfect--almost monotonously so; but he has one peculiarity with
which you ought to be made acquainted if you are going to marry your
daughter to him."
"What is that?"
"Well, if you want to know, he's a lunar somnambulist--when the moon is
at the full he rises at night from his bed, and, with open eyes, walks
about the house in a dream, muttering all kinds of extraordinary things.
If swords or pistols were then within his reach he would probably wound
or kill any one, and I shouldn't like to see your daughter murdered in
one of these moonlight perambulations."
"Oh, that is nonsense. I will believe no tale of that kind."
"Do as you please. I have discharged my duty, and told you. Now,
good-night."
But after Mogyorôdy had departed, the farmer, although he had pretended
to be unconcerned, said to himself:
"This might possibly be true; I must investigate the matter further
before the marriage takes place."
His mind being very uneasy, he determined to invite Duránczy to his
house on the next occasion, when the moon would be at its full; and when
the night in question arrived he entertained the Major at his farm with
all the outward demonstration of confidence and friendship.
It so happened that during the evening Mogyorôdy looked in, for although
a rejected lover, he was still a recognised visitor, owing to business
and family connections with the farmer.
Pozdordy, albeit that he was somewhat alarmed at the appearance of his
rival, politely welcomed him, and was relieved to notice, as his two
guests conversed together, that the old jealousy seemed to have quite
disappeared, and that Mogyorôdy evinced towards the Major every symptom
of good fellowship.
The wine circulated freely, and the night wore pleasantly away, until
the clock reminded Pozdordy that there was a limit to every festivity.
He had already intended to press Duránczy to sleep with him; but, as it
was already late, he felt he could not do less than extend the
invitation to Mogyorôdy. Wishing, however, to have the alleged
somnambulist under his inspection, he assigned to the Major a spare bed
in his own dormitory, and gave Mogyorôdy a separate room.
In due course, both host and guests retired. The farmer, as soon as he
was between the sheets, lit a massive long-stemmed pipe, and began to
smoke, keeping his eye upon Duránczy.
The moonlight was streaming in upon the Major's pillow. It looked weird.
The farmer watched Duránczy as he lay prostrate--watched and watched
until he himself dozed off into an involuntary slumber.
Presently he was awoke by a noise. In the moonlight he perceived a
figure, robed in a night-shirt. Ah! the Major, who seemed to be gazing
around him with an air of mysterious inquiry. Then, step by step, with
great circumspection, he advanced towards the farmer's bedside. Pozdordy
held his breath. "Yes," he said to himself, "this man is a lunar
somnambulist!"
Upon tiptoe the figure now went nearer and nearer to the farmer's couch.
Pozdordy, in breathless expectation, grasped his heavy long-stemmed
pipe--the only weapon of self-defence within arm's length--and just as
the somnambulist was reaching towards an antique and richly inlaid
sword, suspended high up against the wall, he dealt him a blow, so
terrific as to produce a howl from the apparition. The farmer leaped out
of bed, and, to protect his own life, was proceeding to half-strangle
the sleepwalker, when, to his astonishment, he saw that it was not the
Major.
"Who are you?" he exclaimed.
There was no answer. The farmer looked towards the Major's bed--there,
in the moonlight, lay the warrior, who was just beginning to be roused
from sleep by the noise of the scuffle, and who dreamily exclaimed,
"What the devil?"
Pozdordy released his hold of the neck of this unknown man, who hastily
escaped from the room; and the report goes that Mogyorôdy travelled home
at 2 A.M. in his night-shirt. Anyhow, after hiding under the Major's bed
in order to make him out to be a somnambulist, he never again dared to
put his nose into Pozdordy's household; and the gallant soldier is
to-day in peaceful possession of the beautiful Etelka.
_Printed by BALANTYNE, HANSON & CO._
_London & Edinburgh_
Transcriber's Note: Many of the Hungarian titles listed in the
Introduction were misspelled. "Estílapok" was changed to "Esti Lapok",
"A Magyar Nábob" was changed to "Egy Magyar Nábob", "A Koszivü Ember
Fiaa" was changed to "A Koszívu Ember Fiai", "A Szerelem Bolondja" was
changed to "Szerelem Bolondjai", "A Névtelen Vár" was changed to
"Névtelen Vár", "Bálványvárak" was changed to "Bálványosvár", "A Fekete
Gyémántok" was changed to "Fekete Gyémántok", "A Jové Század Regéje" was
changed to "A Jövo Század Regénye", and "Az Uj Földes Ur" was changed to
"Az Új Földesúr".
In addition, the following typographical errors in the text have been
corrected.
In "In Love With the Czarina", "she nodded to Genera Karr" was changed
to "she nodded to General Karr".
In "Tamerlan the Tartar", Chapter I, "the immovable cloud towards the
east" was changed to "the immovable cloud towards the west", and "the
victorious couqueror" was changed to "the victorious conqueror". In
Chapter III, a period was changed to a comma after "the Thief of the
Desert". In Chapter VIII, "two real hereoes" was changed to "two real
heroes", and "Mirza Abubker's chosen horsemen" was changed to "Mirza
Abubekr's chosen horsemen".
In "Valdivia", "If you wish for the Guelin mountain" was changed to "If
you wish for the Guelen mountain".
In "Bizeban", a quotation mark was added before "This man only calls you
Sultan".