Swiftly and silently the leopards were harnessed to the chariots. Then
each amazon took the reins, and, with her particular friend beside her,
drove through the gates and into the almost deserted streets.
It was two hours past midnight now, and the citizens, with the exception
of the guards and the male revellers, were long since asleep.
A lovely night for a drive, for young people particularly. Only the
roaring of the confined beasts, with the calling of the frogs in the
papyrus reeds, could be heard. Serene and mellow the moon looked down
from a cloudless sky upon the restful city, the empty wharfs and stairs,
and the fringe-lined lake, where also slept their god-ships, the
crocodiles. It was a splendid country for women, cats, crocodiles,
serpents, and other sacred and venerated things, but not so favourable
to men. Our adventurers were leaving it gladly.
At the outer gate they had a little trouble, as Pylea had expected.
The commandress chanced to be one of the ladies who had decided to
compete in the lists on the morrow. She had fixed her discriminating
eyes upon Cocoeni, and when roused up by a subordinate, regarded the
exodus with gloomy suspicion.
The order, however, was so definite, and the signet-ring beyond dispute;
yet she wanted some particulars.
"It is the written command of Queen Isori, that these strangers pass
through without delay. They go to offer sacrifice to their gods in the
desert before the contest," added Pylea, with a dig of her heel at Ned,
who crouched behind.
"Yes, dauntless captain," said Ned. "Your gods are not our gods, nor
your customs ours."
"Are these the sacrifices you take with you?" asked the stately amazon,
pointing to the packages.
"Yes," answered Ned, brazenly, "our offerings are all there."
"It is strange, for I was with the queen before supper, and she said
nothing of this. Let me send a messenger to her."
"By no means. See, it is written here that she is not to be disturbed
this night on pain of death. She is weary with her journey, and wishes
to prepare also against the morning."
"Humph! it is my duty; pass on."
Ned waited with Pylea to see the other chariots go through. As they did
so, the native amazon looked at each one keenly.
"Stop!" she cried, as Cocoeni was passing; "this is the man I have
chosen to fight with. Step forth and let me look at you."
"Get out and satisfy the captain, Cocoeni," said Ned. "Show your
muscles, and be quick about it."
Cocoeni rose, nothing loth, and stalked up to the side of the amazon.
She turned him round, feeling his biceps critically, as an intending
purchaser might examine a horse. Standing side by side, their heads
were on a level, a splendid pair as to height and breadth of shoulders.
But the woman had seen more than thirty summers, whereas Cocoeni was her
junior by many years.
"You are a fine fellow, yet I think I can throw you," she said, while
her black eyes sparkled with admiration. "Will you try once with me
now?"
"Shall I, baas?"
"Yes," answered Ned. "Get her on the other side of the gate, over by
the green bank, while we all pass through. Then, don't waste any time,
grip her quick and pitch her into the lake, if you can. It will create
a diversion."
He gave these instructions, in English; then, turning to the warlike
dame, he said mildly in her language--
"The lord Cocoeni will take up your offer, brave lady; but as I have no
desire to see either of you hurt on the hard stones, and so spoil our
sport when the day comes, I fix upon yonder soft sward as the ground.
One throw only."
"So let it be."
The dame retired for a moment to prepare herself and do up her hair.
She had been standing up to now in her night costume.
While she was absent, Pylea whispered something to one of her band. The
girl nodded, and, turning her chariot, darted back the way they came.
"Where is she going?" asked Ned.
"To keep watch in the shadows," whispered Pylea. "This woman is my
aunt, therefore I know her well. She will send a messenger to the
palace while she delays us, and that messenger must be stopped."
"Oh! Cannot we make a bolt for it while she is inside?"
"Two hundred bows would be bent if we did so. One bow will be quite
sufficient," answered Pylea, calmly.
She was a plucky girl, quick and prompt in her actions, and had proved a
first-rate chum all through to Ned and his friends, but she had no weak
sentimentalism about her. She could remove a human impediment with the
some utter indifference that country ladies kill pullets. As a friend,
however, she was sans reproche. Ned felt that the present occasion was
one in which he must not be too fastidious, yet he shuddered to think of
the luckless messenger.
As the last of the chariots, except that one which had turned back,
passed beneath the lintel of the archway, Ned saw a white-robed,
bald-headed little man steal out of a side-window, and glide rapidly
across the moonlight to the shadow side of the road. As he did so,
Pylea again touched Ned with her foot.
"My aunt will be a widow sooner than she intended," she whispered.
"There goes my uncle to meet his death."
Almost immediately afterwards the amazonian aunt came out of the
guard-house door, clad in light chain armour, and with only a scarf tied
tightly round her waist. She was barefooted, so that she might not slip
easy. She looked a formidable figure as she strode over to where
Cocoeni was waiting for her. A crowd of the guard was gathered round,
leaving the gate open and unprotected.
"Wait one instant," said Pylea. "Ah, here they come."
The young amazon who had been sent back, drove her chariot and her
Kaffir passenger almost noiselessly. She nodded slightly as she drew
up, and murmured softly--
"He lies in the shadow, thirty yards distant. I removed the arrow from
his heart as we passed him."
"Good," answered Pylea; then together they passed through the gate and
drew up at the other side.
Pylea, having ordered her followers to drive on out of arrow-shot,
remained behind with Ned and Cocoeni's driver to watch the contest.
The combatants stood face to face watching each other keenly, and
looking out for a chance to spring in. The newly made widow was a wily
old bird, and up to every feint. She was in no haste to close, as she
wished to linger the game. Several times she pretended to be about to
take the leap, always to draw back.
"Quick, Cocoeni; trust to your strength and finish it," cried Ned, who
was chaffing at the delay.
"All right, baas."
Cocoeni walked slowly towards the amazon, who now began to retreat, but
towards the edge of the water. Seeing this, she suddenly sprang to one
side and attempted to pass him.
It was a fatal move; for Cocoeni, quick as lightning, leapt upon her,
and gripped her sideways, slipping both arms under hers as she twisted
round.
There was no question of chivalry or gentle treatment now. The woman
felt, as those muscular long arms closed round her, as if she was in the
embrace of a python. It was such a hug as she had never before
received. Her ribs felt cracking, and her lungs compressed so that she
could not breathe or use her arms. She was taken at a disadvantage and
completely at his mercy.
Cocoeni had his back towards the lake, which was three yards distant.
With a hoarse, savage laugh, he imprinted a loud kiss on the open mouth
so close to him, and the next instant sent her flying over his head
three feet clear of the bank. With a shrill cry and a loud splash, she
disappeared into the water.
"There, baas, she will not forget the throw of Cocoeni," he shouted, as
he clambered into his chariot.
Away they dashed at full speed--getting a parting glimpse of the
drenched dame as she scrambled drippingly ashore; past the suburban
villas and fields and out to the arid desert.
"My aunt Culpatra will not be content with one messenger," cried Pylea,
as they rushed along. "We shall be pursued by the queen and her army.
Fortunately, we have an hour's start, and these animals are the best in
Karnadama."
"But extra loaded," answered Ned.
"Yes; yet you can shoot with your guns further than they can with their
arrows."
"I hope we shall not have to do this."
Twice before daybreak did Pylea and her companions stop their leopards
to feed them with those little cakes. After the animals had eaten these
they went on with renewed speed.
"What is that you give them, Pylea?"
"Something to keep them fresh. A little does them good and removes
fatigue. Too much will kill them, yet they will run with unabated speed
until they drop dead. I fear most of these will be dead when we reach
the mountain, for we must not spare them this journey."
Day came and almost passed, without any signs of pursuit. The only
stops they made were those when more of the cakes were given to the
animals. Then they went on again at full speed, seemingly as fresh as
ever.
The sun was just dipping below the desert line when Ned saw a long low
cloud appear. He did not need to call the attention of Pylea to ask its
meaning. The pursuers were coming.
All that night the leopards ran at their swiftest, being fed often.
When morning broke the gold mountain was distinctly visible; but so also
were their followers. A long line of moving dust rolled in the rear,
spreading miles wide. Queen Isori had brought half her army with her,
and they were driving lightly. She was resolved to stop the fugitives
if she could.
Onwards! The pursuers are gaining ground, but they are still as far off
as the mountain, and it is stationary.
The leopards are fed recklessly, and rush along madly as if they were
free. With long bounds they cover yards of ground at a time. Their
eyes blaze fearfully, and bloody froth flies from their gaping jaws.
They want no driving now; they are possessed with the most savage fury.
"They will reach the mountain. We dare feed them no longer; they are
mad," cried Pylea, looking only at the cliffs.
Ned was looking behind. How rapidly the pursuers were gaining! Already
he could distinguish individuals where before he had only seen a
confused mass. Their arrows were gleaming in the bright sunbeams.
At last! The chariot jolted suddenly and overturned, sending Ned and
his bundle sprawling. Pylea had leaped lightly out and was helping him
up.
The leopards lay gasping their last breath. All along the line the
others lay in the same condition. Some had fallen exhausted, others the
amazons had slain with their arrows, to prevent the maddened beasts from
dashing against the rocks.
The drivers and passengers were running full speed for the archway,
carrying their loads with them. From the desert came a hoarse roar like
the sound of waves breaking on shingle.
It was the army of Karnadama urging on their lions and leopards.
"Quick!" panted Pylea, no longer calm.
Ned got up and ran, as he had never done before, through the hall, and
up the long stairway that led to freedom.
"Run on for your lives, and look not back; we will follow," cried Pylea,
as she ranged her warriors in front of the stairs.
Up they went, one after the other, as fast as they could scramble, those
thousands of steps. Exhausted at last, they reached the chamber of the
pythons.
Here they sank down breathless to wait on Pylea and her regiment.
Not a sound could be heard from below. Had the brave girls remained
there to face their infuriated queen? For the second time in their
lives our heroes felt themselves to be mean cowards. The first time had
been when they killed the baby gorilla.
"We can never leave these brave girls in the lurch like this, lads. We
must return and save them, or die with them," cried Ned, in sharp tones
of agony.
Gripping his revolver, and followed by his men, he rushed with frantic
steps down the stairs.
At the fourth landing he stopped suddenly. There before him leaned
against the wall the friend of Cocoeni, with the blood dripping through
her fingers as she pressed her hand against her side.
"Come no further," she gasped faintly. "I only am left alive."
"What!" cried Ned, starting back in dismay. "Are they all slain? Is
Pylea also dead?"
Cocoeni by this time had reached forward, and was holding the dying girl
in his arms, the hot tears running down his cheeks.
"All," replied the girl. "I was sent forward to close the wall at the
first stair. Before I reached it they were cut down. I saw Pylea fall
even as I received this wound, but I had strength enough to close the
stone door and creep up the stairs thus far."
Her head sank as she uttered the last words against the breast of
Cocoeni.
"Bring her up to the hall, Cocoeni," said Ned, brokenly.
Not a dry eye was amongst them.
Cocoeni carried her up as gently as he could, but before they reached
the sculptured hall, she was almost gone.
As he laid her down, she opened her eyes and smiled wanly. Then she
whispered so faintly that they had to bend close to hear the feeble
accents.
"They cannot open the door I closed, for hours. You have time to
escape. Destroy the stairs at the top and you are safe."
Her military trained mind was still planning, even although the
life-blood was nearly drained from her heart. Another long pause, and
then she opened her lips and her eyes for the last time.
"Cocoeni, you are only a man, after all, for you are weeping just as
ours do when they are hurt. Kiss me, as you did two nights ago in the
garden, for which I rebuked you then, but I am now as weak and foolish
as you are."
Cocoeni pressed his warm lips to her cold ones. When he removed them
her lips remained apart. She was dead.