The dark eyes of the queen glanced at us as she began her story, the
sequel to which we did not at all anticipate:--
"I was a mere child when it chanced that I strayed from the hut which my
English parents inhabited on the borders of this forest. Of them I know
nothing. I remember the cry of surprise which came from the lips of a
Dhah woman when she found me, and then carried me among her tribeswomen
to show to them. It is forbidden among us for a Dhah to ever pass beyond
the limits of this forest, and so it transpired that, knowing nothing of
other races, they were astonished at my strange whiteness. I have heard
that at first they contemplated my death, thinking that my presence
would bring dire misfortune upon them. The woman who found me averred,
on the contrary, that my appearance betokened great advantages to the
tribe, as I was sent to dwell in the forest as a goddess. Afterwards,
believing this, they paid me the most abject worship for years. When I
grew older I longed to escape, but they were determined that I should
not do so, and compelled me to take an oath to stay with them for a
year, which I have renewed as often as the promise expired. Finding that
I disliked the adoration which they paid to me, they deposed their
prince--he whose hand shot the fatal arrow, as, alas! ye saw--and
although for a time I refused to accept the position, I was eventually
made their queen--even as I am now.
"Many times I desired to leave them, but of late that wish has grown
feeble, for he, whom ye know now lies lifeless before the tent, bent his
dark eyes, and looked into mine, which returned his glances. One day I
thought to raise him even as a prince to my side, for all the tribe
trusted in him as much as they disliked the one deposed. Now that he is
slain, the wish to depart has again re-entered my breast, and ye, who
are of the same kindred as I, surely ye will aid me? How came ye hither,
on foot or otherwise?"
"We left our horses on the edge of the forest," said Denviers, "but we
did not expect to be so long absent from them. How wilt thou depart from
these Dhahs? Surely they will avenge themselves upon us, for they will
assuredly think that we have influenced you to desert them." The queen
paused for a minute, then answered:--
"I could not bear to leave them openly, for I have grown to be almost
one of themselves, and they are dear indeed to me. I will accompany ye
to where your horses are tethered; and waiting there for me I will come
to ye again upon the steed which has never known saddle."
The plan of escape seemed simple enough, but the slightest mishap might
bring us into conflict with the whole tribe of the Dhahs, who would
doubtless be infuriated if they thought that their queen was lost to
them through us, as Denviers had suggested. It seemed to us a strange
termination to our adventure, but in obedience to a gesture from the
queen we rose, and, accompanied by her, passed the guards in safety. As
she emerged from the tent, the queen bade us wait for her for a minute,
and stopping, we saw the woman bend down sadly over the silent form
lying there under the trees, which half shut out the midnight sky. Her
hand touched the arrow and gently drew it forth--tipped with blood! Then
placing it within the upper folds of her dress she passed silently on
through the clearing, and so accompanied us to the spot where our horses
were, whence she departed.
[Illustration: "HER HAND TOUCHED THE ARROW."]
"I am afraid that this affair may yet turn out badly for us," I remarked
to Denviers, as we untethered our steeds and waited for the queen's
return. "Where shall we make for when we start?"
"For the hut of the Cingalese, which we left some time ago," he
responded. "It will afford her some shelter, and we can keep watch
outside."
He had scarcely finished speaking when we saw the queen riding towards
us upon a snow-white steed. As the moonlight touched her spotless robe
and her floating hair, with the pearls which adorned it, she seemed to
us to be more like some vision than a living reality. I had just time to
notice that she now carried the weapon of the tribe over which she had
so long ruled--a bow--and that across her fair shoulders was slung a
quiver of arrows, when a sudden cry rose from the forest, and at the
same moment Hassan exclaimed:--
"Quick, sahibs! The Dhahs are upon us!"
We leapt upon our horses and dashed away from the forest just as a heavy
shower of arrows narrowly missed us. Hassan went on in front, while
Denviers and I galloped on either side of the queen. Glancing back at
the Dhahs I observed that they were massed already upon the margin of
the forest, the flight of their queen having become rapidly known. The
women raised a mournful and appealing cry of entreaty to her to go back
to them, and, glancing at the queen, I saw that her face was wet with
tears. We heard the hoarse shouts of the warrior Dhahs when they found
that their arrows fell short, but they did not dare to pass the limits
of the forest beyond which their strange law forbade them to go. We rode
on for some hours at a rapid rate, then, on nearing the hut of the
Cingalese, Denviers leapt down and succeeded in awaking its sole
occupant, who was induced to vacate it. The queen dismounted and entered
the hut wearied, as we thought, with the long ride, for the dawn had
come before we finished our journey. Hassan secured the horses, and soon
after we were all lying at a little distance from the hut fast asleep in
the shade of some giant ferns.
The morning was far advanced when we awoke, but hour after hour passed
and the door of the hut remained closed. Becoming uneasy, at last I
ventured to open it. The queen had disappeared!
"Denviers!" I shouted. "Come here a minute!" My companion hastened
towards the hut, and was considerably surprised to find it empty.
Glancing round it we saw against one of its thin palm leaf sides an
arrow projecting. Going close to it we found roughly scratched beneath
it a message to us, which said simply:--
"_The Queen of the Dhahs could not rest away from her people and the
forest where lies her dead lover!_" We stared at the writing
incredulously for a minute or two, then a sudden thought occurred to
me:--
"Hassan!" I shouted, "see to the horses." The Arab went slowly to the
spot where he had secured them, but hastily returned saying, in an
animated tone, somewhat unusual for him unless when excited:--
"Sahibs, the white steed is no longer there!" and he looked gravely at
us as he spoke.
"Well," said Denviers, as Hassan finished speaking, "this has been a
strange adventure from beginning to end. How could such a woman care to
spend her existence with those Dhahs? It seemed curious to me at the
first, but after seeing her and observing the contrast between her and
her subjects, I am still more surprised."
"The Dhahs are known throughout Ceylon," interposed Hassan, "for the
honour which they pay to their queen, and that may influence her to
remain with them; besides, they are a handsome race, very different to
such as this man," and he pointed to the Cingalese, who was again
vacantly staring at his plantation of palm trees.
"What do you think will become of the man who shot the Dhah, sahib?"
asked Hassan, as he turned to Denviers. My companion was silent for a
moment, then responded:--
"I really cannot say. He is doomed to die at sundown to-day, but I
daresay someone will intercede for him with the queen." Then, holding
out towards the Arab the arrow which we had found within the hut, he
continued:--
"Take care of that, Hassan, for if we are able I should like to keep it
as a memento of this event." The Arab examined it closely to see what
constituted its value, and Denviers, thinking that it might disappear
like sundry other lost treasures of ours, added: "It is a poisoned
arrow, and if put in that sash of yours might prove very dangerous."
Hassan understood the hint, as subsequent events proved, and, calling
upon Mahomet as a witness to his integrity under such trying
circumstances, carried it cautiously away and placed it among our
baggage.
_Illustrated Interviews._