“THEY MUST DIE!”
Yes, Gip, the great, noble, loyal Gip, had saved Enola. When that great
cry of hers had broken out, it had floated through the arches and out to
the open stables where Gip had been placed. He had just been raised to
his feet preparatory to having his wounds rebandaged, and as the
agonized cry reached him, he raised his head and listened, and when the
second cry came he pushed the attendants aside who tried to stop him and
limping and almost falling he started for the open arches through which
the sound came. Such loyalty, such love for a mistress had never before
been displayed by the domestic animals of On and Onrai and the
attendants looked with astonishment at Gip as he pushed his great head
through the arch of Enola’s apartment, and gave that peculiar cry.
Enola a moment before had seemed very close to death’s door, her breath
being scarcely perceptible and no movement of the body showing any signs
of life. But she had awakened and in her delirium had called on that
friend who had shared the danger with her and had suffered in trying to
protect her. Her movement had been so quick when she had seen Gip, that
those about her had not time to stop her before she had fallen on the
floor clasping the great trunk of the animal. But it was well perhaps
that they did not, for any hindrance or objection on their part in
allowing her to go to that protector, the only one she had recognized,
might have resulted seriously to her reason, that reason which was
already darkened, but which now gave a glimpse of light.
All looked at her in astonishment as she caressed the elephant, throwing
her arms about the great trunk, patting him and calling him by endearing
names in the meantime. She now noticed the bandages about his head and
said.
“Oh, my poor Gip, and you were wounded? Ah, yes, I remember now, that
great, cruel log struck you,” and as she said this she almost fell
backwards in her weakness, but Mr. Graham caught her and attempted to
bear her to the couch, but she clutched Gip’s trunk and cried so
pitifully not to be taken from him, that Mr. Bruce stepped forward and
said:
“It will not hurt her and it may do her an inestimable amount of good.
Listen, she already remembers a few of the instances of the storm and
mad ride.”
“It was terrible, was it not, Gip?” Enola went on, “and you tried so
hard to keep me from danger; but it blew so furiously and the air was so
thick with stones and sand and sticks, and you were blinded, dear
friend. But you are safe now, all but that poor head which the cruel log
struck. But where are we now, Gip? The storm is over and we are
together; but where?” and Enola looked about her with eyes which began
to show some signs of returning reason.
“Ah, I see, they have found us and have taken us back to the Temple; and
what are these?” and she looked at her bandaged hands and arms. “And my
face, too! Oh, they hurt so,” and the poor girl seeming for the first
time to realize her suffering, fell back on the floor.
“Come, Enola,” said Mr. Graham, “you are tired and weak, and must lie
down. Gip shall stay near you,” he continued, as Enola again turned
toward the elephant.
“Oh, uncle, I am so tired,” said Enola, as Mr. Graham laid her on the
couch.
“Thank Heaven!” almost whispered Harry, “her reason is not destroyed.”
“No,” said Mr. Bruce, as he gave her a quieting powder, “Gip has indeed
saved her life and her reason, too, for the sight of him has brought
from out of the chaos the scenes of last night, and these have brought
in their train other thoughts, until reason itself has been restored.”
This news was received with tears of joy. All fears were now allayed
regarding Enola, but there were the greater ones awaiting them on the
morrow. What was to be the result of the conference of the King with the
people to-morrow? Onrai had assured them that it would be all right,
that they would abide by his decision in the matter; but was there not a
possibility of these people, who were experiencing for the first time
the fears which superstition brought out, being swayed by these rather
than by the King? Such thoughts had occurred to Mr. Bruce, but he had
said nothing of his fears to the others, not wishing to worry them
unnecessarily. Indeed, the thought had come to Mr. Bruce to suggest
their immediate departure from On, but Enola’s condition forbade this,
and again, they could not possibly reach the cave before morning, and if
this intended escape was once discovered, they would be stopped and
dealt with roughly to say the least.
The news of the coming conference had not been imparted to Mrs. Graham
and Nellie and they, happy at Enola’s assured recovery, were quietly
dozing in their chairs, the events of the past twenty-four hours having
tired them greatly. The watches were now set for the night and the men
had retired with the exception of Onrai, who went into the garden and
strolled up and down, his arms hanging listlessly by his side and his
head bowed as if in deep thought. Was he, too, thinking of that coming
conference and of the possibility of the men refusing to heed him, and
following their own blind reasoning? Whatever his thoughts were he was
completely wrapped up in them and hardly heeded the approaching morn.
The eastern heavens grew lighter and lighter, but still Onrai paced the
drive, his head bending low and his eyes cast on the ground. The whistle
of a bird seemed to rouse him at last, and raising his head and noticing
the rosy tints of morn lighting the east, he shook himself and said:
“The battle is fought and I now feel stronger; but it has been cruelly
hard.”
A song sung by a thousand male voices, now arose on the morning air, and
Onrai, turning toward the lake, exclaimed:
“Oh, I had forgotten. I must meet the people this morning at the lake,”
and he started off in that direction.
Mr. Bruce came running from the villa, and hurrying up to the retreating
figure of Onrai, said:
“Onrai, you are about to go to your people. They have a grievance with
us. Is it not best that we also accompany you, and plead our own
defense?”
“No,” said Onrai, “I can better do this myself. I am dealing with a new
phase in their character to-day, and I do not know just how I will
handle them, but, at any rate, it is best that I should go alone.”
“I would ask one favor of you before you leave,” said Mr. Bruce. “We
came to your land uninvited, and it is not right that we should create
any disturbance, or destroy the peace of mind which your people have
always known. If they demand our departure, and you feel that their
demand is just, and this decree is irrevocable, do not hesitate to tell
us, and we will leave immediately, although it would grieve us greatly
to be compelled to do so, just when we have fully experienced the full
delights of your beautiful country, and tasted the pleasures of your
hospitality. We cannot understand why they have learned to fear us, but
we do not question their motive, in wishing us to leave, if this be so.”
“Fear not,” said Onrai, “Some question of difference has come up
probably, which has led them to fear that if you should remain here
long, established customs might be changed. By talking on this subject
and expatiating on it, it has assumed great proportions, and has seemed
of greater importance because of the mystery which surrounds you. They
have never been able to understand how you came to our country. They
found you on the side of the cliff one morning in the heart of our wild
beast range; you had been there overnight, and had been unmolested by
the ferocious beasts. This alone made them look on you with awe, and
they have never forgotten it. As I have said, it is superstitious fear,
which is now urging them on, and we will have to first destroy this.”
“I hope that you may be able to do this completely,” said Mr. Bruce,
“for we wish to be friends with your people, and remain a long time with
them.”
“I would have it so,” answered Onrai, as he turned and again started for
the shore. “I can understand now, I think, why these people have turned
on their guests. In some way they have learned of my love for Enola, and
a fear has taken possession of them that I would give myself up to the
fascinations of this fair woman. And they have attributed a supernatural
power to her, for they could not believe that any other could make me so
far forget my laws and people as to love; and I do not know just how I
am going to deny their charges and still ask them to allow the strangers
to remain with us. This they must do, however, for I would have them
with us until they have fully learned our customs and ways. They will
not fully know these until they have seen the ceremony of the Day of
Resis. And, am I still weak? May be so; but I cannot now see Enola leave
me. I will be strong, I will bury the love, which, if mentioned, will
ruin my whole life and that life to come. But I must see her; I must
have her with me yet awhile. Ah, I am approaching the appointed place.
Now for the struggle.”
The party had seen him coming and were now drawn up before a large rock,
which was intended for a platform, from which Onrai was to speak; Onrai
approached and took his stand on the rock; the men stood in a semicircle
about him, their heads uncovered and as Onrai took his position on the
rock they bent their bodies respectfully, and then stood waiting for him
to speak.
“My people,” he commenced, “you came to me last night with a strange
complaint. For a short time we have had in the Land of On a number of
strange people, the first which has ever visited our world since we can
remember. If at any previous time such visitors came to the Land of On,
we know not, for the events of the past ages are not made known to us.
But we are concerned only with these strangers from a distant planet.
When we stop to consider, we cannot wonder that these enlightened
people, of another world, seeing our world as we see theirs, should wish
to visit it and learn, if here was a race of people like unto
themselves. We cannot fully understand, perhaps, the curiosity which
should prompt this desire, for we have been taught to be contented with
the good land which God has given us and not to seek anything which we
have not here given us. We have certain laws to follow, and these laws
are life and death. But it is not so with the people who are now here as
our guests; they have certain political and moral laws, as they call
them, which they must adhere to, but they have no laws restricting their
research into the unknown. They may invent new contrivances for making
their labor easier, they may advance new theories on great subjects,
even their religion, not being altogether as ours is, but a number of
different beliefs, these beliefs being subdivided, each advancing
different theories, which in the end are widely varying. And they are
allowed to study the heavens and learn the different stars and to name
them; and they learned that there was a world similar to theirs and they
determined to visit it, and immediately devised new means to do so; and
they came and found that another race was here, a race much like
themselves in many respects but different in others, principally in
physique; but they worshiped the same God, the great God, and this makes
them brothers, and now you would destroy them, or send them back to that
world from whence they came, even before they have fully learned the
world or people which they traveled so far to find. You have an
imaginary complaint to make against them; it cannot be a genuine
complaint for I have been with them almost constantly since they came to
our land and I know that they are as pure in heart and deed as any among
us. Accept your King’s word for this, for he knows of what he speaks. I
have done.”
The party of men had stood perfectly still during this speech of the
King, but it would be impossible to tell from their mobile features
whether they were being convinced or not. They stood stolidly silent,
not a muscle moving, leaning against their zebras. They made a grand
sight, these thousand men in their beautiful tunics, holding their
bright helmets. A body of men which would make the armies of the
civilized world look like pigmies and which would make the eyes of a
general open wide with admiration. But that stolidity; not one among
them betrayed an emotion in the face. As Onrai finished they did not
even change the position which they had held while he was speaking.
Onrai now stepped to one side of the rock and the leader, who had spoken
the night before, came forward and mounting the rock, bowed to Onrai and
then proceeded with his explanation.
“Oh, King, I was chosen by the people, who sent us here to make the
charge against the strangers last night, but you ordered us away, and we
have always learned to obey our King before all else, so we have waited
until this morning. The decision reached by the people was caused by a
report which was brought to the city by one, who has been a member of
your expedition since you left the city and was for some time before
attached to the woman Enola before she left the Temple. She was alarmed
by certain things which transpired, and no longer being able to keep
them to herself, rode to the city yesterday morning, arriving even
before you did, oh, King. She tells of the King of On, being in the
company of the woman Enola most of the time, and that certain
expressions passed between the King and this woman, which could mean but
one thing; the King had become infatuated with the woman. This news
could hardly be credited and would not have been believed probably, if
one of our men, who was also in the party, had not rushed madly into the
city yesterday, giving out that the King was mad; that he had stood on
the terrace of the villa, occupied by Onrai and his party on the night
of the storm, and had heard the King accuse the woman Enola of having
bewitched him; of her having known before the laws and customs of the
people of On, even before she had come here; but notwithstanding this
she had thrown a spell over him, the King. The King told her that she
had been balked in her machinations before it was forever too late, by
the warning of God. This warning was the storm. The man had not stopped
to listen longer; the storm causing him to seek shelter. The people had
seen the King come to the city, where he should be in the time of great
trouble, but that word had come from the woman Enola and he had
forgotten his people and had rushed off quickly, even killing the zebra
which he had ridden. This latter, we learned afterwards. The people love
their King, oh, Onrai; they feel that he has not sinned but that he is
in the meshes of one who would ruin him, and they have decided that the
woman and her party should die, and we have come to fulfill this
mission.” And the man, as if this declaration ended the matter, stepped
down from the rock and commanded the men to don their helmets and again
mount.
“Hold,” cried Onrai, “what would you do? Consider well the step which
you would take. Have you forgotten that these people are our guests and
as such demand our protection? The stories which you bring are true, but
they are the results of my own blindness and are not due to any
supernatural influence, which Enola has had over me. She is innocent and
even now lies at the point of death, and, will you not at least wait and
see if her injuries are fatal? Oh, heed your King and do not this thing
which hurts him. Let them be escorted to the place where they were
found, and let them from there return to their own world. Do not kill
them,” and Onrai wrung his hands in despair.
The only answer the leader made him was, “We must save our King, for we
love him and this is the only way,” and he ordered the men to march.
Onrai jumped from the rock and ran like a deer ahead of the riders, and
reaching the villa, met Mr. Bruce, Mr. Graham and Harry on the terrace
awaiting his return. The hurrying figure of Onrai coming toward them
told them that something was wrong, and stepping up quickly toward him,
Mr. Bruce asked, “What is it?”
“It is settled,” said Onrai; “they are coming to kill you; I tried to
dissuade them, but it was useless. Rush to the rear and take zebras and
make all possible speed to where you were found. I will try to keep them
back for a while; it will mean my death, but that matters little.”
The three men turned white, but did not move.
“But what of Enola?” asked Mr. Bruce.
“She must be taken too,” said Onrai, “but it is too late.”
The riders had now reached the terrace and dismounting, a number of them
stepped forward and laid hands on the strangers. Others prepared to
enter the villa, for the women. Onrai stood with bowed head, overcome
with emotion. This then was to be the miserable end of the expedition.