What Next Befell
On they came, like a swarm of angry bees from a hive; and I saw that
they were mostly men of great stature, though mine, I judged, would
still overtop the tallest, the which I do not say boastfully, but as one
bearing witness to the truth.
Now that we had come at last to open war, my mind was clear, as my hand
and heart were steady, and I could take calm note of this, as of other
matters.
Lestrade was humming a gay tune at my side, his rifle well aimed, his
finger on the trigger.
These people were clearly brethren of the dead priest Sagamoso, for they
were of the same bronze color; and as they drew nearer, I perceived the
regularity of their features, like to his.
They carried spears and swords that flashed bright in the rays of the
setting sun. They called to us in a strange language and with
threatening gestures; but I am, as I have said, a peaceful man, and
loath to shed blood, so with a word I restrained my more fiery Lestrade,
and we abode their onslaught.
Then a spear hurtled through the air and clove the fleshy portion of my
arm, and with that, the lust of conflict fell upon me, and my eyes saw
red, and verily I was mad with the joy of battle.
The foremost dropped before me, shot through the heart, and the second.
They paused for an instant in their onward rush, but I thought not so
much with fear or surprise, as in obedience to a command. Then they
pressed forward. My rifle emptied itself into the compact living mass.
Lestrade was close behind. I seized the barrel in my hand, and the first
oncomer fell like an ox beneath the blow.
So, thrusting, beating down the line of shining weapons, I clove my way
through, and for me there was no weariness, nor fear, nor prick of
bodily hurt. Only that fierce gladness, that inasmuch as it is the man’s
portion, transcends the lot of woman. There was one strange thing I
noted even in the midst of the tumult. The warriors seemed bound by some
observance to disable rather than to wound us. They struck heavily, it
is true, but with the flat of their swords, and this I could see was
from no love of the stranger.
Hate flashed from their eyes and rang in their voices; so as I laid
stoutly about me, I did so with the more good-will in that I felt myself
reserved with Lestrade for some more devoted sacrifice than was possible
at the moment.
On a sudden the howling horde melted away, and a new enemy appeared.
Down the open space, with great leaps, and with a cry, half bestial,
half human in its malice, it came. A gray, furry body, fantastically
striped in red and blue, two shining, bead-like eyes. This I saw; the
next instant two sinewy claw-like hands were at my throat, and we were
rolling over and over in the dust, the creature biting and striving to
smother me in its embrace. It was strong, and it knew the tricks of
wrestling. For a time neither one of us could boast of vantage.
The fight had ceased, and I dimly saw Lestrade trussed into a helpless
bundle and lying upon the ground. The people of the Walled City stood in
silence, resting upon their arms, like warriors of bronze.
Then the inward fury that consumed me stiffened my muscles to steel. My
knee rested on the creature’s hairy chest. I seized its jaw in my hand,
and forced its head slowly, slowly back.
Its eyes rolled in helpless fury; its great teeth were ground together
in a rage that defied me to the worst; the tongue protruded. There was a
quick snap like the breaking of sugar-cane. The giant head rolled limply
to one side; the long arms relaxed their pressure. A wail of sorrow and
of anger rose from the waiting throng; I stood one instant, conqueror
and free! In another, I was brought heavily to my knees, and the meshes
of a net encompassed me. The horde of warriors fell into line. A litter
of crossed spears was quickly made, and Lestrade and I were hoisted up
and so with ignominy carried onward as is a bale of goods to the
warehouse. Through the cleft in the wall of the Pass of Blood, which
closed with ominous silence behind us; on through a passage-way, deep,
narrow, hewn out of the solid rock; so once more were we borne close
guarded, into the sunlight, and within the City of the worshippers of
the serpent god, the City of our golden dreams and the dead priest’s
promise.
The street that opened was straight and wide, and bordered by houses of
good size, generally of one story only, but built in every case of
stone. Lestrade and I had never seen the like in all Africa, and the
smooth, hard roadbed over which we were carried was another proof of the
skill of this strange people.
Now that the stress of battle was over, I could look about me. From the
open doorways of the houses peered a curious throng, men, children, and
women also, but these last were close veiled, much to my good Gaston’s
disappointment, as I could see.
Our bodyguard were fine, stalwart fellows; each man had filed his two
upper and two lower front teeth to a point, a custom I have elsewhere
observed, and one giving the countenance a singularly wolfish look.
Their long black locks were braided, and the plats were interwoven with
strands of golden wire. They bore spears, and long curved knives stuck
in girdles of panther skin. They carried also shields of hide, and on
their feet were curious sandals that were laced to the calf with
leathern strips.
The heads of the leaders were decorated with feathers held in place by a
jewelled clasp, and the size of the gems sent the blood tingling through
my veins.
I could now see that one man commanded this array, and I was the more
sorry for that inasmuch as the steely glitter of his eye when turned our
way, boded his prisoners little good. He was an old man and unlike the
rest, covered from neck to heel by a flowing white garment around whose
hem appeared strange characters writ in scarlet. A long gray beard fell
over his breast, and his hair was bound by a plain gold fillet that
crossed the forehead. In his hand he carried a short rod of ebony, and I
noted with growing pain the reverence with which his followers observed
his every gesture.
On a sudden, he raised his staff, and like one man the warriors halted.
We had stopped before an archway that spanned the street, and which was
guarded by a gate of woven bamboo made strong by bars of iron, and
bristling with points of the same metal. This gate swung on a pivot, and
a man appeared who held earnest conference with our aged leader.
This newcomer looked to be about thirty years of age. I judged that he
was not more than five feet tall, but the spread of his shoulders was so
enormous that he might well have looked shorter than his real height.
His massive arms were covered with bracelets of the precious yellow
metal; his garments were striped with gold and blue. He carried no spear
or buckler, but a short, straight two-edged sword hung from his side.
The talk was brief but earnest, and its import was clearly not to the
satisfaction of our venerable friend. At last, with a vindictive
backward glance at me, he pointed his long, bony finger at the body of
the dead ape, for now I knew the kind of creature whose neck I had
broken.
He of the broad shoulders looked at it and then at me again with more
discernment, and I thought with no less liking than before. Then as the
tide of remonstrance from him of the evil eye and white beard did not
cease, the other took from a fold in his garments a thing that glistened
and glittered like a molten rainbow in the fading light, a girdle whose
links were gold fastening squares studded with gems that defied, in
their brilliance, the noonday sun.
This he laid upon the outstretched hand of the elder, and his clamor
ceased, hushed to muttered murmuring. The armed throng passed the open
gate, and as they defiled before him with the jewelled girdle, each
touched, with outstretched palm, the breast and forehead, and the
broad-shouldered one gravely bent his head in answer to their salute.
So were we borne along through a maze of streets like to that through
which we had first come.
At length a halt was called, and we found ourselves before a temple
built, indeed, of stone, but ornamented with carvings of fruit and
flowers and strange figures of beasts and birds, covered with a curious
lacquer in brilliant tints, red, green, violet, and gold.
Six men received us. They wore short, white tunics, and had shaven
crowns bound by silver fillets, and they looked, I thought, with
ill-concealed pleasure on the body of the dead ape.
Only a small bodyguard followed Lestrade and myself within the portals
of this temple. We were borne along a curious labyrinth of passages all
going downward and towards a common centre. A door of iron, heavily
barred, was loosened and turned upon its pivot. We were carried within.
Here our bonds were struck off by order of the chief with broad
shoulders, but contrariwise, a metal girdle was locked about our waists,
and this in turn was fastened by a stout but sufficiently long chain to
a staple in the wall of our prison chamber.
Then the guards withdrew, and through the bars of the door I saw the
leader bind the outer bolts with a small cord. This he sealed with wax,
and likewise stamped the seal with a square of the jewelled girdle in
such manner that none could enter without having first broken the wax
itself. Then he also left us, and Lestrade and I were once more alone.
We turned with one consent, and after we had each spoken somewhat to the
other on the marvels of our capture and present escape from death, and
had rubbed our arms and legs to a more comfortable complexion, for our
bonds had been drawn about us with no light hand, we then took, what was
plainly the next thing in order, and examined with due care our forced
abiding-place.
The worst thing to be said against it was the darkness, for all light
filtered from a distance through slits in the roof. The room was airy
enough, however, and cool. The walls were closely overlaid with sticks
of bamboo, and the floor was of earth pressed into bricks and colored
with some show of art. Two woven sacks were filled to a pleasant
thickness with some sweet-smelling leaves, and were each provided with a
soft, wide strip of cloth, so that in the matter of beds, these heathen
had given us nothing of which to complain.
A long, low settle of heavy black wood was also given over to our use,
and this made complete the furnishing of the place.
After some hours of converse, and when darkness had settled like a pall
upon the chamber, we heard approaching footsteps, and a lighted torch
was thrust through the bars of the upper part of the door and into a
socket set for the purpose. Then from the same hand came a wooden
platter piled high with steaming meat and plantains, a gourd of water,
and three small stone pitchers brimming with palm wine.
The three pitchers, and the fact that the meat was also divided into
three portions, puzzled, at the time, both Gaston and myself, but we
found afterwards that as I had killed the sacred ape belonging to the
service of Hed, I was supposed to be possessed of a devil to whose
strength was due this feat.
One portion of all our food was therefore set apart for the use of this
same familiar. That I, who am, as I have said, a religious man, should
be so thought of, filled me, when I knew the facts, with righteous
indignation; but at the time, in my ignorance, I cheerfully abode the
insult, and the portion of the evil spirit said to dwell within me was
consumed like to the other victuals, with all the zeal and constancy of
a hungry man.
After our first prison meal, Lestrade and I betook ourselves to bed, and
being a heavy sleeper, I knew no more until a hand shook me roughly by
the shoulder. Now I could never abide being broken of my rest, a thing
which was the less to be desired after the wearying events of the bygone
day. So it was with little ceremony I struck out, and should perhaps,
between sleeping and waking, have done some damage, had not the same
hand deftly emptied the gourd of water over my head, while Gaston’s
familiar voice cried, with less courtesy than need be, “Fool!”
This brought me briskly to my senses, and I was about to argue the point
with him, when a new sound hushed my tongue to silence, and I needed not
Lestrade’s command to listen.
A curious sound it was, and awesome, there in the midnight hour,—a sound
not all a wail, not all a chant, but holding a note of jubilee so coldly
cruel that it pierced with icy fear the very marrow of him who heard it.
Three times this strange song rose and fell distinctly to our waiting
ears. Then it grew fainter and fainter, and died away, at length, in the
distance.
I thought of my past sins and of my present straits, and I wished, with
all earnestness, that I and my good rifle had not been parted.
Then sleep bore heavy upon my eyelids, and I turned over on my sack of
leaves, leaving Lestrade still sitting with the white moonlight shining
down through the slits in the roof above us upon his face.