MAMBA, SUBJECTED TO THE ORDEAL OF THE "TANGENA," ESCAPES, BUT AFTERWARDS
ACCUSES HIMSELF AND IS CONDEMNED.
If not yet among the martyrs, it was soon evident that Mamba stood a
good chance of being among them before long--and that the mother of whom
he was so fond, and for the gratification of whose spiritual longings he
had risked so much, would probably never receive the Gospel of Peace
from his hands.
While in prison under accusation of being a believer in the religion of
the white man, he had debated much with himself as to what was his duty
in the present distress. Was he bound to confess Christ and take the
consequence--which, of course, he knew to be death? To deny Him was out
of the question. He at once dismissed that idea as untenable. But was
there no other mode of escape? Did not the Word itself advise that when
persecuted in one city he was not only entitled but advised to escape to
another? "But how am I to escape? Oh God, guide me!" he cried, lifting
his clasped hands as he converted the question into a prayer.
The rattling of his chains seemed to bid him dismiss all hope, but he
did not lose faith. He continued to pray and meditate. And the longer
he meditated the more anxiously did he long to be back in the cave
beside his Reni--his humble-minded loving little mother--and beside--
yes, he made no attempt to conceal it from himself--beside the beautiful
queen-like sister of Laihova. The more he meditated, however, the more
hopeless did his case seem to become. To lie he would not--not even to
gain Ramatoa. To die he would _rather_ not! To escape he could not!
At last he hit upon an idea. He would refuse to answer. He would take
refuge in absolute silence!
As might have been expected, this course of policy did not avail him
much. When it was found that he would not say whether he was a
Christian or not, it was resolved that the matter should be settled by
an appeal to the ordeal of the Tangena.
This used to be a common and much-practised ordeal in Madagascar in days
but recently past. It consisted in the administration of poison. Other
ordeals existed in the island--such as passing a red-hot iron over the
tongue, or plunging the naked arm into a large pot of boiling water and
picking out a pebble thrown therein for the purpose of trial. Alas for
both innocent and guilty subjected to either trial! But the ordeal most
universally in favour was that of the Tangena.
The Tangena is in fact a poisonous nut about the size of a chestnut
which derives its name from the tree that bears it. If taken in small
doses it acts as an emetic; if in large doses it kills. Many pages
would be required to give a full and particular account of all the
Malagasy superstitions connected with the ordeal. Let it suffice to
say, roughly, that previous to the poison being administered the accused
person is obliged to swallow whole, or rather bolt, three pieces of the
skin of a fowl, about the size of a dollar. Then the decoction of
Tangena in rice-water is administered. If given strong it kills, and
the unfortunate is held to have been guilty. If not too strong, and the
sufferer be able to bear it, vomiting is the result, and the three
pieces of skin are eagerly looked for. The finding of the pieces proves
the accused to be innocent. The not finding of them proves him guilty,
and at once, if he be a free man, he is killed, if a slave he is sold,
and got rid of in some distant market. There was a very complex system
of combined profit and superstition surrounding the whole affair which
it is difficult as well as useless thoroughly to understand, but which
it is easy to see afforded clever scoundrels the means of persecuting,
defrauding, or killing any whom they chanced to dislike, or who stood in
their way. Of course it was very easy to make the potion strong enough
to kill, or to dilute it with rice-water until it became almost
harmless.
Now, when Mark Breezy heard that Mamba was condemned to swallow the
Tangena he went straight to his friend Rakota.
"Prince Rakota," he said, earnestly, "if your expressions of gratitude
to me are sincere you will save the life of this man."
"I will try," returned the Prince, "but the Queen is very angry just
now!"
When the Prince pleaded for the man's life Ranavalona asked of what he
was accused.
"Of praying to the Christians' God."
"Does he admit the charge?" demanded the Queen sternly.
"No--I believe not."
"Then, let the Tangena decide. It always speaks the truth. Our
ancestors thought so, and I will not change the customs of our
ancestors!" said this outrageously conservative queen.
Rakota, however, was a determined man and not easily foiled. Going
privately to those who had the management of the matter, he made use of
those mysterious arguments with which princes manage to attain their
ends, and afterwards told Mark the result, which was, according to
Hockins, that, "Mamba's grog was to be well-watered!" As Mark could do
nothing more for his friend he went with his companions to see the
result.
There was another man, accused of stealing, who was to be tested at the
same time. He was a strong sturdy pugnacious-looking man.
A good deal of ceremonial of course preceded the ordeal. Among other
things the poison had to be tested on two fowls. It killed them both
and was deemed too strong. Being diluted it was tried on two other
fowls, and killed neither. It was therefore considered rather weak. At
last, having been reduced to the exact strength which killed one fowl
and only sickened the other, the potion was administered to the reputed
thief, after a long prayer or invocation. For two hours there was no
result, but at the end of that time the pains began, and increased with
much violence, yet the man maintained his innocence. His agonies were
soon extreme. Amidst his torture he solicited medicine, but this was
refused. His bowels, he said, were writhing as if in knots. His groans
were awful. His eyes seemed ready to start from their sockets. His
countenance assumed a ghastly hue, and his entire frame was convulsed
with torture. Then he vomited violently, and, fortunately for him, the
three pieces of skin which he had swallowed made their appearance. He
was at once pronounced innocent and set free.
Poor Mamba had to witness all this before his own turn came. Once more
he was questioned, but continued dumb. Then he was made to swallow his
three pieces of skin and to drink the Tangena.
The state of mind of his friends, as they watched him after what they
had just seen, may be conceived but cannot be described. In Mamba's
case the poison acted differently. Being well diluted, its effects,
although severe, were not to be compared with those experienced by the
first sufferer. Still they were bad enough, and vomiting commenced much
sooner. To the great satisfaction of his friends the three pieces of
skin were ejected, and Mamba, being pronounced innocent, had his fetters
removed and was set free.
But when Mark hastened to congratulate him, what was his surprise to see
the poor fellow clasp his hands and raise them to Heaven, while an
expression of pain--very different from that resulting from physical
suffering--convulsed his features.
"Oh! no, no!" he exclaimed, in a tone of agony, "I am not innocent. I
am guilty! guilty! _very_ wicked! I have denied Thee, dear Lord, by my
_looks_, though not with my lips! Forgive me, O God!" Then, turning
quickly to the officers of justice, "Here--put on the chains again. I
_am_ a praying man! I love the Lord Jesus. He will save _you_ as well
as me if you will come to Him!"
As this was spoken in the native language our Englishmen did not
understand it, but they had little difficulty in guessing the drift of
it when they saw the officers replace the chains and lead Mamba back to
prison, where the last words the jailor heard as he left him were,
"Mother, mother! Ramatoa! I shall never more see your dear faces in
this life--never more!"
But in this Mamba was mistaken, as the sequel will show.
Meanwhile Mark hurried back to the palace and told Rakota what had
occurred. The Prince was not surprised. He had mingled much with the
Christians, and knew well the spirit by which they were animated. He
went at once to the Queen, who was enraged at first by his persistent
pleading, vowed that Mamba should die, and gave orders to that effect.
But on reconsidering the matter she commuted the sentence into life-long
slavery in long chains.
There is usually but brief delay between a sentence and its execution in
Madagascar. The very next day heavy chains were riveted on Mamba.
These, at one end, were attached to an iron collar round his neck, at
the other end to iron rings round his ankles. What sailors would call
_the slack_ of these heavy fetters was gathered up in one of the
wearer's hands, and thus carried while he moved about at work.
The poor fellow was first set to work on a piece of road-mending just
outside the city gate, with several others--martyrs and criminals--in
similar condemnation. And here Mark and his companions met him
unexpectedly before they were aware that the fearful punishment had
begun.
At the time poor Mamba was toiling with pick and shovel. His heart was
almost broken. Death he could have faced without flinching, but to be a
life-long slave in galling chains, with the possibility even of seeing
his mother and Ramatoa, without being permitted to go near or speak to
them, was almost more than he could bear. A deep groan burst from his
overcharged breast as he cried, "Oh Lord Jesus, enable me to bear it!"
It was just then that Ebony observed him and uttered a falsetto cry of
astonishment.
The Secretary, who was conducting Mark and Hockins on a visit to one of
the suburban places of resort, stopped and looked round.
"Dars Mamba, massa!" cried Ebony.
Mark ran to him at once, but was stopped by the guard. A few words from
the Secretary, however, sufficed, and Mark was allowed to speak to the
slave, which he did through the Secretary.
Despair was in Mamba's every tone and look, for the crushing calamity
was too recent and too tremendous to be borne with equanimity at first.
Yet through it all there ran, as it were, a tiny silver thread of hope.
"For is it not true," he said, "that `with God all things are
possible?'"
"My friend," said Mark in reply, and with a burst of enthusiasm, "I will
save you _somehow_! Keep a good heart."
Mamba smiled faintly, yet gratefully, as he shook his head, gathered up
the superfluous links of his chain, and resumed his toil.
"How will you save him?" asked the Secretary, with a peculiar
half-amused look, as they walked away.
"I know not," answered Mark. "But we have a proverb, `Where there's a
will there's a way,' and I have a determined will to save my poor friend
from this slavery. I will not cease to try--as we say in England, `I
will leave no stone unturned,'--till I have accomplished this thing.
Moreover I will not cease to pray for this end. Mamba's trust in God
puts me to shame. Up to this time I have only recognised by name that
Saviour whom this man worships. God helping me, I will henceforth
follow the Lord!"
To the surprise of the young man the Secretary turned suddenly on him
and grasped his hand, and said in a low voice, as he looked cautiously
round--"It gives me joy to hear you speak so. I too am a follower of
Jesus. I tell you this because I know, now, that you will not betray
me. There are many of us in the palace besides Prince Rakota, but we
dare not speak out, for the Queen is very angry, as you know. Hush!
Tell it not even to our companions. Little birds have ears. If the
Queen suspects any of us, in her present state of mind, she will either
ruin or kill us."
"I have heard something of this," said Mark, "from the friend who guided
us to the capital--"
"I know," interrupted the Secretary, with an intelligent nod. "It was
Ravoninohitriniony. He is well-known to us. He loves Rafaravavy, and
is now in the neighbourhood of the capital, hoping to induce her to fly
with him to the forests. You are surprised, but you would not be so if
you knew the number of spies that Ranavalona has out everywhere."
"Has my friend Ravonino," (we call him so for brevity), "been seen in--
in--I mean _near_ the city lately?" asked Mark, anxiously.
"Not _in_ the city, certainly," returned the Secretary. "Bold and
daring though he is, he would scarcely venture that; but he has been
seen and heard of more than once lately."
Mark felt relieved. It was evident the Secretary neither knew of nor
suspected the fact that Ravonino had actually attended the garden party
and met Rafaravavy almost under the Queen's eyes! Remembering, however,
that the Prime Minister had sent Soa to pretend to be a Christian, in
order that he might discover the secrets of the Christians, and not
having yet had much experience of the Secretary's character, he resolved
to be very cautious in his reference to Ravonino,--indeed to any one
with whom he had to do. Acting on this resolve he changed the subject
by asking questions about the extensive rice-grounds around the capital.
The Secretary was of a communicative disposition, and evidently fond of
airing his English. He willingly followed in conversation wherever the
young doctor chose to lead, and gave him and his friends a great deal of
interesting information as to the manners and customs of the Malagasy
people--their habits, beliefs, and laws.
Among the latter he spoke of a curious fact in regard to criminals which
gave Mark a sudden inspiration! Hockins afterwards styled it a
"wrinkle." Ebony called it a "dodge." But, whatever might be said on
that head, it had the effect of very materially altering the conditions
of some of the personages of this tale, as the following chapters will
show.