"You must eat," she continued. "If you like, I will go get something
to eat for you and me. I will bring King Hiram's and Galé's dinner
here, too. When you are sad, you should not stay alone."
And the little green and gold fairy vanished, without waiting for my
answer.
That was how my friendship with Tanit-Zerga began. Each morning she
came to my room with the two beasts. She rarely spoke to me of
Antinea, and when she did, it was always indirectly. The question that
she saw ceaselessly hovering on my lips seemed to be unbearable to
her, and I felt her avoiding all the subjects towards which I, myself,
dared not direct the conversation.
To make sure of avoiding them, she prattled, prattled, prattled, like
a nervous little parokeet.
I was sick and this Sister of Charity in green and bronze silk tended
me with such care as never was before. The two wild beasts, the big
and the little, were there, each side of my couch, and, during my
delirium, I saw their mysterious, sad eyes fixed on me.
In her melodious voice, Tanit-Zerga told me wonderful stories, and
among them, the one she thought most wonderful, the story of her life.
It was not till much later, very suddenly, that I realized how far
this little barbarian had penetrated into my own life. Wherever thou
art at this hour, dear little girl, from whatever peaceful shores thou
watchest my tragedy, cast a look at thy friend, pardon him for not
having accorded thee, from the very first, the gratitude that thou
deservedest so richly.
"I remember from my childhood," she said, "the vision of a yellow and
rose-colored sun rising through the morning mists over the smooth
waves of a great river, 'the river where there is water,' the Niger,
it was.... But you are not listening to me."
"I am listening to you, I swear it, little Tanit-Zerga."
"You are sure I am not wearying you? You want me to go on?"
"Go on, little Tanit-Zerga, go on."
"Well, with my little companions, of whom I was very fond, I played at
the edge of the river where there is water, under the jujube trees,
brothers of the _zeg-zeg_, the spines of which pierced the head of
your prophet and which we call 'the tree of Paradise' because our
prophet told us that under it would live those chosen of Paradise;[15]
and which is sometimes so big, so big, that a horseman cannot traverse
its shade in a century.
[Footnote 15: The Koran, Chapter 66, verse 17. (Note by M. Leroux.)]
"There we wove beautiful garlands with mimosa, the pink flowers of the
caper bush and white cockles. Then we threw them in the green water to
ward off evil spirits; and we laughed like mad things when a great
snorting hippopotamus raised his swollen head and we bombarded him in
glee until he had to plunge back again with a tremendous splash.
"That was in the mornings. Then there fell on Gâo the deathlike lull
of the red siesta. When that was finished, we came back to the edge of
the river to see the enormous crocodiles with bronze goggle-eyes creep
along little by little, among the clouds of mosquitoes and day-flies
on the banks, and work their way traitorously into the yellow ooze of
the mud flats.
"Then we bombarded them, as we had done the hippopotamus in the
morning; and to fête the sun setting behind the black branches of the
_douldouls_, we made a circle, stamping our feet, then clapping our
hands, as we sang the Sonrhaï hymn.
"Such were the ordinary occupations of free little girls. But you must
not think that we were only frivolous; and I will tell you, if you
like, how I, who am talking to you, I saved a French chieftain who
must be vastly greater than yourself, to judge by the number of gold
ribbons he had on his white sleeves."
"Tell me, little Tanit-Zerga," I said, my eyes elsewhere.
"You have no right to smile," she said a little aggrieved, "and to pay
no attention to me. But never mind! It is for myself that I tell these
things, for the sake of recollection. Above Gâo, the Niger makes a
bend. There is a little promontory in the river, thickly covered with
large gum trees. It was an evening in August and the sun was sinking.
Not a bird in the forest but had gone to rest, motionless until the
morning. Suddenly we heard an unfamiliar noise in the west, boum-boum,
boum-boum, boum-baraboum, boum-boum, growing louder--boum-boum,
boum-baraboum--and, suddenly, there was a great flight of water birds,
aigrettes, pelicans, wild ducks and teal, which scattered over the gum
trees, followed by a column of black smoke, which was scarcely
flurried by the breeze that was springing up.
"It was a gunboat, turning the point, sending out a wake that shook
the overhanging bushes on each side of the river. One could see that
the red, white and blue flag on the stern had drooped till it was
dragging in the water, so heavy was the evening.
"She stopped at the little point of land. A small boat was let down,
manned by two native soldiers who rowed, and three chiefs who soon
leapt ashore.
"The oldest, a French _marabout_, with a great white burnous, who knew
our language marvelously, asked to speak to Sheik Sonni-Azkia. When my
father advanced and told him that it was he, the _marabout_ told him
that the commandant of the Club at Timbuctoo was very angry, that a
mile from there the gunboat had run on an invisible pile of logs, that
she had sprung a leak and that she could not so continue her voyage
towards Ansango.
"My father replied that the French who protected the poor natives
against the Tuareg were welcome: that it was not from evil design, but
for fish that they had built the barrage, and that he put all the
resources of Gâo, including the forge, at the disposition of the
French chief, for repairing the gunboat.
"While they were talking, the French chief looked at me and I looked
at him. He was already middle-aged, tall, with shoulders a little
bent, and blue eyes as clear as the stream whose name I bear.
"'Come here, little one,' he said in his gentle voice.
"'I am the daughter of Sheik Sonni-Azkia, and I do only what I wish,'
I replied, vexed at his informality.
"'You are right,' he answered smiling, 'for you are pretty. Will you
give me the flowers that you have around your neck?'
"It was a great necklace of purple hibiscus. I held it out to him. He
kissed me. The peace was made.
"Meantime, under the direction of my father, the native soldiers and
strong men of the tribe had hauled the gunboat into a pocket of the
river.
"'There is work there for all day to-morrow, Colonel,' said the chief
mechanic, after inspecting the leaks. 'We won't be able to get away
before the day after to-morrow. And, if we're to do that, these lazy
soldiers mustn't loaf on the job.'
"'What an awful bore,' groaned my new friend.
"But his ill-humor did not last long, so ardently did my little
companions and I seek to distract him. He listened to our most
beautiful songs; and, to thank us, made us taste the good things that
had been brought from the boat for his dinner. He slept in our great
cabin, which my father gave up to him; and for a long time, before I
went to sleep, I looked through the cracks of the cabin where I lay
with my mother, at the lights of the gunboat trembling in red ripples
on the surface of the dark waves.
"That night, I had a frightful dream. I saw my friend, the French
officer, sleeping in peace, while a great crow hung croaking above his
head: 'Caw,--caw--the shade of the gum trees of Gâo--caw, caw--will
avail nothing tomorrow night--caw, caw--to the white chief nor to his
escort.'
"Dawn had scarcely begun, when I went to find the native soldiers.
They were stretched out on the bridge of the gunboat, taking advantage
of the fact that the whites were still sleeping, to do nothing.
"I approached the oldest one and spoke to him with authority:
'Listen, I saw the black crow in a dream last night. He told me that
the shade of the gum trees of Gâo would be fatal to your chief in the
coming night!...'
"And, as they all remained motionless, stretched out, gazing at the
sky, without even seeming to have heard, I added:
"'And to his escort!'
"It was the hour when the sun was highest, and the Colonel was eating
in the cabin with the other Frenchmen, when the chief mechanic
entered.
"'I don't know what has come over the natives. They are working like
angels. If they keep on this way, Colonel, we shall be able to leave
this evening.'
"'Very good,' said the Colonel, 'but don't let them spoil the job by
too much haste. We don't have to be at Ansango before the end of the
week. It will be better to start in the morning.'
"I trembled. Suppliantly I approached and told him the story of my
dream. He listened with a smile of astonishment; then, at the last, he
said gravely:
"'It is agreed, little Tanit-Zerga. We will leave this evening if you
wish it.'
"And he kissed me.
"The darkness had already fallen when the gunboat, now repaired, left
the harbor. My friend stood in the midst of the group of Frenchmen who
waved their caps as long as we could see them. Standing alone on the
rickety jetty, I waited, watching the water flow by, until the last
sound of the steam-driven vessel, boum-baraboum, had died away into
the night."[16]
[Footnote 16: Cf. the records and the _Bulletin de la Société de
Géographie de Paris_ (1897) for the cruises on the Niger, made by the
_Commandant_ of the Timbuctoo region, Colonel Joffre, Lieutenants
Baudry and Bluset, and by Father Hacquart of the White Fathers. (Note
by M. Leroux.)]
Tanit-Zerga paused.
"That was the last night of Gâo. While I was sleeping and the moon was
still high above the forest, a dog yelped, but only for an instant.
Then came the cry of men, then of women, the kind of cry that you can
never forget if you have once heard it. When the sun rose, it found
me, quite naked, running and stumbling towards the north with my
little companions, beside the swiftly moving camels of the Tuareg who
escorted us. Behind, followed the women of the tribe, my mother among
them, two by two, the yoke upon their necks. There were not many men.
Almost all lay with their throats cut under the ruins of the thatch of
Gâo beside my father, brave Sonni-Azkia. Once again Gâo had been razed
by a band of Awellimiden, who had come to massacre the French on their
gunboat.
"The Tuareg hurried us, hurried us, for they were afraid of being
pursued. We traveled thus for ten days; and, as the millet and hemp
disappeared, the march became more frightful. Finally, near Isakeryen,
in the country of Kidal, the Tuareg sold us to a caravan of Trarzan
Moors who were going from Bamrouk to Rhât. At first, because they went
more slowly, it seemed good fortune. But, before long, the desert was
an expanse of rough pebbles, and the women began to fall. As for the
men, the last of them had died far back under the blows of the stick
for having refused to go farther.
"I still had the strength to keep going, and even as far in the lead
as possible, so as not to hear the cries of my little playmates. Each
time one of them fell by the way, unable to rise again, they saw one
of the drivers descend from his camel and drag her into the bushes a
little way to cut her throat. But one day, I heard a cry that made me
turn around. It was my mother. She was kneeling, holding out her poor
arms to me. In an instant I was beside her. But a great Moor, dressed
in white, separated us. A red moroccan case hung around his neck from
a black chaplet. He drew a cutlass from it. I can still see the blue
steel on the brown skin. Another horrible cry. An instant later,
driven by a club, I was trotting ahead, swallowing my little tears,
trying to regain my place in the caravan.
"Near the wells of Asiou, the Moors were attacked by a party of Tuareg
of Kel-Tazeholet, serfs of the great tribe of Kel-Rhelâ, which rules
over Ahaggar. They, in their turn, were massacred to the last man.
That is how I was brought here, and offered as homage to Antinea, who
was pleased with me and ever since has been kind to me. That is why it
is no slave who soothes your fever to-day with stories that you do not
even listen to, but the last descendant of the great Sonrhaï Emperors,
of Sonni-Ali, the destroyer of men and of countries, of Mohammed
Azkia, who made the pilgrimage to Mecca, taking with him fifteen
hundred cavaliers and three hundred thousand _mithkal_ of gold in the
days when our power stretched without rival from Chad to Touat and to
the western sea, and when Gâo raised her cupola, sister of the sky,
above the other cities, higher above her rival cupolas than is the
tamarisk above the humble plants of sorghum."