THE GOLDEN IMAGE
FOR the next three weeks Colin and Desmond had little to complain
of. Apart from their anxiety to communicate with their friends, they
really had a rather pleasant holiday. They were well-fed, housed,
and cared for, and up to a certain point allowed liberty of action.
Their greatest difficulty was their inability to understand the
Makoh'lenga language. Although it resembled the Zulu dialects in the
way in which the guttural "clicks" occurred, in almost every other
word there was nothing else in common with the native tongues spoken
in that part of the Dark Continent.
The chums did not submit to their altered conditions without making
efforts to secure their freedom. Very shortly after their arrival
they decided to make an attempt to escape. Waiting until it was past
midnight and the whole village appeared to be wrapped in slumber,
they stole softly through the doorless aperture of their quarters,
and made their way towards the tunnel.
It was a moonless night, but the stars were shining brightly,
although there was a mist rising from the ground.
Without molestation they drew clear of the village, crossed the open
belt of ground, and gained the mouth of the oblique shaft. Here they
paused and listened intently. The tunnel was in Cimmerian darkness.
No sound beyond the distant murmur of the waterfall broke the
stillness. If the lads could pass the guards stationed in the rocky
recess their chances of escape would be most favourable.
Cautiously, and feeling their way step by step, Colin and Desmond
entered the gloomy tunnel. As a matter of precaution they had
removed their boots, and carried them slung round their necks, and
their bare feet made no noise as they encountered the smooth, hard
rock that formed the floor of the tunnel.
With beating hearts they approached the hewn-out cavity where they
had seen the guards on the occasion of their arrival. The fire no
longer burned in the recess. Like the rest of the subterranean
passage, the place was in darkness.
Hardly able to credit their good fortune, the chums increased their
pace, and gained the narrow track between the waterfall and the end
of the gorge.
{Illustration: "'WE'VE DONE IT, BY JOVE!'"
[_p_. 231}
"We've done it, by Jove!" soliloquised Sinclair. "We're through."
These thoughts had hardly flashed across his mind when a heavy hand
descended upon the shoulder of each of the lads. Turning, they found
themselves in the grip of a tall, powerfully-built man, while
others, springing seemingly from nowhere, barred the way to freedom.
To Colin's and Tiny's astonishment, their captor made no attempt to
harm them. With an air of superior detachment, he pointed in the
direction of the tunnel, and exclaimed:
"Intchi!"
The significance of the word was plain. Feeling very small, indeed,
the chums turned and retraced their steps, speculating when they
arrived at their quarters what would be their punishment in the
morning.
Days passed, but seemingly no notice was taken of the attempt to
break out. Nevertheless, the mere fact of having been caught
red-handed acted as a deterrent to a further effort in that
direction. Had they been kicked or beaten they would not have been
daunted, but they had a wholesome dread of being ridiculed.
After a while Desmond hit upon another plan. Tearing leaves from his
pocketbook, he wrote several notes to Colonel Narfield, wrapping
each paper round a stone. On the outside he wrote the address, and
also drew a rough sketch of the colonel as he usually appeared out
of doors, and also a drawing of Kilembonga. This was with the idea
of conveying the name and address to any fairly intelligent native
who might pick up the little packages.
During the night the lads hurled the weighted papers far over the
cliff, hoping that they might fall into the hands of anyone except a
Makoh'lenga, since the territory of this mysterious tribe was
bounded by the lofty wall of rock.
The following evening, after the chums had been for a walk round the
village, the papers were restored to them. Every one had been picked
up, neatly smoothed out and folded, and left on the table with the
evening meal.
"Stumped, middle wicket!" exclaimed Tiny ruefully. "Here we are, and
here we remain, as far as I can see."
"They've got us properly set," agreed Colin. "They know it,
otherwise they wouldn't give so much rope. We might try
heliographing."
"They'd spot that right away," demurred Tiny.
"Possibly, but they might think we were doing some sort of rite, and
let us carry on," replied Sinclair. He pointed to a plate of
burnished silver hanging on one of the walls. "That thing will do
the trick, I fancy. We'll have a shot at it, any old way."
But the opportunity never arrived, for just as the chums were on the
point of turning in they heard a din without. This was quite
unusual, for the Makoh'lenga were given to act as silently as
possible. It was fairly late in the evening--nearly ten o'clock--at
which hour the majority of the inhabitants had retired for the
night.
"What's up now, I wonder?" exclaimed Colin, making for the open
doorway, with Tiny a close second.
It was now close on the time of full moon. The huge, yellow orb was
within thirty degrees of its zenith, and the light was almost as
strong as that of a summer's day in England.
Approaching the village was a solid mass of armed men, and every
warrior in the place was turning out to meet them. At first the
chums imagined that the two parties were antagonistic towards each
other, but they were wrong in their surmise. The two bands fused,
and in a dense mass they marched onwards, every man shouting at the
top of his voice and brandishing his spear.
Arriving at the open space between the houses and the brink of the
cliff, the Makoh'lenga warriors halted in four columns with perfect
alignment.
In front stood four indunas, or chiefs, one of them being he who had
directed the operations resulting in the capture of Colin and Tiny,
while a few paces ahead of the four stood another individual, whose
elaborate dress of red and white silk, with a golden breast-plate
and helmet, proclaimed him to be of the very highest rank. He alone
of all the Makoh'lenga departed from the custom of simplicity in
costume.
Presently this gorgeous potentate addressed the now silent warriors.
When he had finished his lengthy speech he was greeted with shouts
of acclamation in which the word "Umkomasi" occurred frequently.
"Umkomasi!" exclaimed Colin. "Why, that was the name our Van der
Wyck mentioned."
Before Desmond could offer any remark about a dozen men detached
themselves from the mass of warriors, and ran towards the house
where the chums were quartered.
Unceremoniously Desmond and Sinclair were seized, their arms bound
behind their backs, and hurried into the presence of the Chief
Umkomasi.
For a few moments the latter looked steadily at the captives, then
at a sign they were led to a position midway between the four
regiments. An order rang out, and as one man the armed Makoh'lenga
stepped out, forming into one long column, with Umkomasi leading and
the other chiefs at the head of their respective regiments, while
Colin and Tiny, surrounded by their guards, were placed in the
centre of the column.
At the end of a three-mile march, beyond the limits explored by the
chums in their wanderings, the Makoh'lenga ascended a zigzag path
that appeared to be the only means of communicating with the
extensive vastness that rose from the lofty tableland in which the
village was built.
Arriving at the summit, the warriors broke into a steady run, like
men who were behind time in keeping an appointment.
Colin and Tiny had to run, too, in spite of being hampered by having
their arms bound, but the gentle application of a couple of spear
points quickly settled any disinclination on the part of the
captives to increase their pace.
At length the warriors came to a halt in a vast natural
amphitheatre, the ground sloping gradually from a depression nearly
half a mile in diameter. Only in a comparatively small section did
the enclosing bank rise steeply. Here rocks rose abruptly to a
height of nearly two hundred feet, and in the centre of this cliff
was a lofty cave, with an entrance so wide that the interior was
visible to every man drawn up in orderly formation without.
Into the cave Umkomasi and his immediate subordinates entered,
making obeisance as they did so. Then, closely guarded, Colin and
Tiny were urged towards the enormous cavity.
It was a hideous scene that met their horrified eyes. The walls of
the cave were of glittering quartz, with rich veins of virgin gold.
That in itself would not have frozen the blood in their veins; it
was the terrible object that confronted them in the centre of the
cave.
Fashioned of solid gold was an enormous image of a lion, with
wide-open jaws and one paw upraised, displaying formidable talons.
Either by mechanical means or by some hidden human agency the paw
was moving slowly yet remorselessly in the glare of a hundred
torches upheld by a double row of motionless men.
Immediately underneath the paw was a block of gold with six rings
set in it--three on either side, while a few paces in front of the
hideous image was a raised slab of gold on which lay a cushion of
white cloth.
On the cushion lay a small object, which Colin and Tiny recognised
as the swastika. The amulet, instead of bringing them good luck, had
landed Colin and his chum into a very tight corner, indeed!