CHAPTER XLIX.

THE DAY OF RESIS.

“The Day of Resis” had come, and long before the sun had shed its golden

beams on the Temple of On, the people were astir. The tramp of many

zebras and the rumbling of chariots could be faintly heard by the

adventurers as they lay tossing on their couches, the night having

brought them but little rest. They listened with bated breath to the

sounds as they floated through the wide arches of the Temple, and

wondered what the day would bring forth. That it would be fateful, was

certain, for if they did not effect their escape, Enola would become the

unwilling bride of the King of On; and what would be the subsequent

events? Would they longer be held prisoners, or, would they be allowed

to go and come as they saw fit?

But if they failed to get away before the eventful ceremony should take

place, would there be any further inducement to leave this beautiful

country? Would not Enola be the wife of Onrai, and would not the bonds

be binding, having been welded by the laws of this country? Would she

not still be the wife of Onrai, even if she should go back to

civilization, and would it not be better for her to remain here with the

man whom she had been forced to marry? It was a difficult question to

answer, and puzzled and troubled, the small party of adventurers rose,

and after the morning bath, the last, they hoped, in the Temple, they

repaired to the dining hall.

“The night has been a disappointing one in every respect,” said Mr.

Graham, as he took a seat by the side of Enola, “for I had hoped that

after the suspense and failure of the early evening, we would at least

forget for awhile in our sleep. But I see in the haggard faces about me

traces of unrest, and I know that we have all spent the night in

worrying and in wondering as to what the day would bring forth.”

“The night has been a fearful one to me,” said Enola; “but it has seemed

all too short, for I could remember only that with its darkness went all

hope of mine.”

“Come, Enola,” said Mr. Bruce, “do not give up entirely. Remember that

it is on the eve of this day that you are to marry the King, and there

are many hours left us yet in which to escape.”

“No,” said Enola, “I feel that all hope is gone. We will be the central

figures of attraction to-day and all eyes will be upon us, thus making

it an impossibility to escape.”

“I differ with you,” said Mr. Bruce, “for we have learned that this is

the greatest of all days with these people, and the ceremonies of the

day may call attention from us, thus giving us a chance to get away.

Listen, even now, the avenues seem crowded with the chariots and zebras,

and the sandaled feet of the multitude can be heard shuffling over the

hard pavement. The day for me has the greatest interest, for I long to

fathom its mysteries, but not at the expense of your happiness, Enola,

and I will watch every chance, as will all of us, to get you away from

the hateful ceremony.”

“I had forgotten, in our trouble,” said Mr. Graham, “that there were

secrets to be learned to-day. What can they be?”

“They must be of an exceedingly happy nature,” said Harry, “for I have

seen the faces of those who have spoken of the day, light up as if with

pleasurable anticipation.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Bruce, “Onrai has said that the day was the happiest one

in the lives of the people, and that must mean a great deal, for these

people are always happy, or, have been so until the news reached them of

the great battle and eruption. Hark,” and as Mr. Bruce ceased speaking,

a song rose on the morning air so exquisitely beautiful and grand, that

our friends almost held their breath, for fear of losing one note of its

delightful harmony. It rose and fell one moment loud and powerful,

ringing through the entrance and wide hall of the Temple, and the next

dying away almost to a whisper.

“Ah,” said Enola, as the voices ceased, “it is beautiful. Oh, why could

not Onrai have left me in peace, so that we might enjoy even yet awhile

the delights of this grand country and people.”

“It is indeed too bad,” said Mr. Bruce. “But has Sedai been here this

morning?”

“No,” said Mr. Graham, “but it is time that he was. Perhaps he is afraid

of losing a chance for escape by coming to us,” but the curtain moves at

this moment and Sedai enters.

“We were just speaking of you, Sedai,” said Mr. Bruce. “What are the

chances this morning?”

“Better, I think,” replied Sedai. “I was sitting near the stables last

night waiting for the watch to sleep, when Ephmer came to me and said:

“‘Listen, Sedai, your friends of the far-away country would escape, for

the fair one whom Onrai the King, would marry, can see no happiness in

becoming his wife. To-morrow is the Day of Resis, and on that day is the

first King of On to marry. But you would escape. I have seen the look of

fear and suspense on the faces of your friends since they have again

arrived in the city, and I have seen you here day and night watching

closely the movements of the men who have been placed to watch your

friends. Now listen. I have longed to leave my native land and go to

that far-away country, of which I have heard you speak, and I will help

you escape. I only ask that you take me with you, and also my friend

Shal, of the underground world. I cannot promise to effect your escape,

but I will do all in my power to help you. Will you accept my help?’

“I looked at the Onian for a moment, but did not answer, for fear that

if I should admit that we were trying to escape, he would report the

matter to the King.

“Don’t mistrust me,” he continued, “and I decided to accept his offer.

Have I done right?”

“You have,” said Mr. Bruce, “and if this man can help us, he shall see

that great world beyond the cliffs to which he has so longed to go.”

“’Tis well,” said Sedai, “Ephmer will be near you to-day during the

ceremonies and will explain all to you. I will immediately notify you if

an opportunity affords for our escape,” and with this Sedai withdrew.

Onrai was heard outside a moment later, and very shortly he came into

the apartment. His face wore a happy smile, as he walked to where Enola

was sitting, and taking her hand, said:

“Greeting, Enola. This is the greatest day of my life and the happiest.”

“The day seems strange to me,” said Enola.

“Why strange, Enola,” asked Onrai, his face troubled for the moment.

“Because I cannot realize that in this strange land, so far from our

own, and where the customs are so very different, I have found the one

whom I am to marry, and that on this day I am to become his wife. I

cannot accustom myself to the idea, that is all,” and Enola tried to

smile, knowing that she must still keep up the miserable farce in order

to avert suspicion.

“The strangeness will wear off with the day’s ceremonies,” said Onrai,

“and now the ceremonies are about to commence, and places on the terrace

are awaiting you.”

“Then we are about to learn the day’s mysteries,” said Mr. Bruce.

“They are mysteries to you only; to my people, the day’s ceremonies are

well-known,” said the King.

“Then why are they never mentioned?” questioned Mr. Bruce.

“Because they are too sacred,” answered Onrai, solemnly, as he left the

apartment.

“Ah, they are mysteries still,” said Mr. Bruce, after the King had left.

“Not even at this late hour will he explain them to us, but leaves us to

learn them ourselves, and that we are willing to do. Let us go to the

terrace and there learn what it is which makes the day one of mystery.”

They all now left the dining hall and stepped into the large court. Here

attendants were awaiting to conduct them to their seats. Ephmer, who was

one of these, stepped up as they approached, and asked:

“Has Sedai spoken?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Bruce, “and we have consented. You will not fail us?”

“I shall do all in my power,” and saying this, Ephmer led the way to the

terrace where they found seats awaiting them.

The scene which now met the gaze of the adventurers was strange, yet

grand. The populace thronged the court of the Temple, the garden, the

avenues leading to it, and even the tops of the villas were crowded with

the happy-looking people. Before many of the villas could be seen a

square pile of wood about ten feet high. These had been placed during

the night, and our friends could but wonder what part these played in

the ceremonies of the day. Turning to Ephmer, Mr. Bruce asked:

“Why are these piles of wood placed before some villas and not before

others?”

“In these villas with the biers before them, live the principal

participants in to-day’s ceremonies,” answered Ephmer.

“What did you call these? Biers?” asked Mr. Bruce, with a puzzled look

on his face.

“Yes,” answered Ephmer, “for on these are burned the bodies of those who

have this day met their Day of Resis.”

“Burned? Day of Resis? Why, what do you mean, man?” asked Mr. Bruce, and

they all looked at the man with troubled faces.

“Only this,” said Ephmer, “that all Onians who have reached the age of

sixty-five, since this day last year, will to-day be put to death by the

hand of the King.”

Our friends looked at the Onian, as he said this, with fearful

wonderment depicted in their faces. Could it be that the man told the

truth? Could this race of enlightened people do this thing?

“But why are these put to death?” asked Mr. Bruce, as soon as he could

find his voice.

“Because they have reached that time when old age creeps on; and having

reached this age, too, they have earned the reward which is rightfully

theirs, by having lived a sinless life,” answered Ephmer.

“But why should you kill a man because he has seen his best days?” asked

Mr. Bruce, now interested in spite of himself.

“Because we would leave none but the strong and vigorous to bring

children into our world, and, also, because our world would become

over-populated if the old were not killed. The same law governs our

domestic animals.”

And this, then, was the secret, or one of the secrets of the great

height, strength and healthfulness of this people, and it also explained

the absence of all aged people in this strange land. Yes, such a law

could have but this effect, but at what a cost was the beautiful stature

and healthfulness acquired?

“But do not those who are to be killed, object?” asked Mr. Bruce.

“Never,” answered Ephmer, “it is the happiest day of their lives. Look

at them. The ceremonies are about to commence.”

“I cannot stand this,” said Mrs. Graham, and she and Nellie rising,

entered the Temple. Enola also arose intending to go to her apartment,

but at that moment the King came on to the terrace wearing a long,

crimson robe, and seeing Enola about to retire, said to her: “It is

important that you witness the scenes of the day, because hereafter, you

will have to perform the same duties which I am this day performing.”

“I cannot look on this wholesale murder,” answered Enola, with a

shudder.

“It is the law,” replied Onrai, as he moved away. And Enola again sank

into her seat. It was fearful, but what could she or the others do?

Nothing.

Suddenly the blare of a trumpet sounded over the city, and the vast

throng burst forth in a weird chant which rose and fell in great waves

of sound, and almost stopped the beating of the heart with its

impressive solemnity. Up the long avenue came a procession of men and

women, and across the wrist of each was the gold chain and peculiar

diamond, which symbolized the bloody ending of the day. A white bag of

goat skin was suspended by a silken cord which encircled the wrist just

below the gold band. All were in spotless white with golden girdles and

fillets of gold about their brows.

The King, in a crimson robe, accompanied by seven priests, took his

place in the court and faced the line of the doomed. At the sound of

another trumpet the singing ceased. An onyx pedestal was brought from

the Temple and placed before the King. On the pedestal was a shallow

basin of gold.

[Illustration: “Again the flashing dagger was raised in the air.”—_Page

393._]

At a given signal the lines of the doomed moved forward, keeping the

right foot foremost, and again the chant of the multitude rose higher

and higher, growing wilder and wilder, until the front rank of the

victims was ranged before the King. He drew from his girdle a glittering

dagger, that flashed in the sunlight when he held it aloft, as the

doomed men and women thrust out their naked wrists over the golden

basin. One swift stroke severed the main artery and the goat-skin bag

was instantly drawn up and tied above the wound, scarcely a drop of

blood falling into the shallow golden vessel on the pedestal.

Again the flashing dagger was raised in the air as two members of each

victim’s family stepped from the throng and assisted the doomed into the

chariot which stood waiting. On the faces of the vast throng no horror

was depicted, but rather the intent look of serious and solemn interest.

Even upon the faces of the victims a beatified look of hopeful

expectancy, was the only evidence that they were not to mingle again

with their fellow-men, in the duties and pleasures of the Land of On.

For a time Enola was enabled to keep her face turned away from the

actual sight of the massacre, but under the influence of that wonderful

music, she at last stole one brief glance at the King as the gleaming

knife crossed the wrist of a victim, and from that time until the long

procession had passed the pedestal of death, she was held as if by the

glittering eyes of a serpent.

As the last man received his death-thrust, the King dropped the knife

into the basin, and holding aloft both hands, intoned the words of the

ceremony which were supposed to justify the deeds of the day, and speed

the departing souls into the sublimity of the hereafter. At last Mr.

Bruce exclaimed hoarsely:

“It is over!” and he looked up just in time to see Enola fall fainting

into Harry’s arms. She was immediately borne to her apartments and was

soon revived. As the men left the terrace, there was not a sign to show

that the day had been one of dreadful tragedies. No drop of blood, no

confusion. Simply the orderly dispersing of the multitude engaged in

low-toned conversation.

All now met in Mr. Bruce’s rooms and breathlessly awaited Sedai’s

arrival. The news which he would bring from the stables would decide how

much or how little of hope they might have, for effecting an escape

before Onrai should come.

Suddenly the curtain stirred and Sedai’s face appeared. He beckoned to

them to follow, and noiselessly they crossed the starlit terrace and

entered the garden. Here they found Ephmer and Shal awaiting them with

zebras. Enola was about to mount her zebra when she heard a peculiar

cry, and turning she saw the great white body of Gip looming up in the

half light and coming toward her.

“Oh, Gip,” she cried, “this is my only regret in leaving On. I cannot

take you with me,” and patting the great noble beast, which had saved

her life on two different occasions and the lives of her friends, she

turned and mounted her zebra and rode away with tears streaming from her

eyes, afraid to look back, fearful of the pitiful look on Gip’s face.

Cautiously they picked their way through the park toward the road to the

mountains. Along this road, which was used only for bringing the fodder

for the stables, Sedai led them, explaining that it joined the main road

leading to the cave a short distance from the city. As soon as they

reached the main road they urged on their zebras with all speed, for,

turning to look back at the city, they could see torches glittering

about rapidly and could hear a confused murmur of sounds which indicated

that their escape had been detected. Here and there a steady flame

shooting straight into the air, denoted the burning funeral pyres of the

day’s victims. Sedai motioned them to stop for a moment, and listening

intently, he said:

“We are pursued.”

On they flew again over the hard road, through bits of forest, past the

shores of small lakes and over green fields. Far ahead they could see

the dark forest on the side of the mountain. Through the gate of the

mighty wall they sped, and Sedai dismounted to hastily close and

barricade it from the inside. Their pursuers would have to climb the

wall, or seek one of the other gates and every moment was precious now.

They crossed the bridge and plunged into the woods that intervened

between them and the cave. The roar of a lion was heard to the right,

but they did not hesitate.

The eastern horizon was growing brighter and brighter, and by the time

they had passed the forest, the moon had risen high above the mountains.

The rapid gallop of zebras could be heard and looking back, they saw a

large body of mounted men struggling at the barricaded gate. Finding the

gate impassable, they formed a pyramid and in this way the men reached

the top of the wall, and then used ropes to let themselves down into the

Hunting Reserve.

Harry first reached the secret door, but strove in vain to find the

hidden spring. The pursuers were gaining upon them, and Enola, urging

her zebra forward, sprang to the ground and, grasping the lever, pressed

hard on it, but the stone door of the cave failed to open. Her heart

sank within her. She remembered the last revolution it had made, and the

difficulty with which she had rescued Sedai from its stony embrace.

Could it be that the mechanism was then injured? The mighty spring

broken, perhaps? She reeled for a second, as the dreadful possibility

suggested itself to her. Then seizing Harry’s rifle she dashed its butt

against the lever and the heavy stone door began to revolve.

Sedai, seizing a heavy branch, struck the zebra upon which Mrs. Graham

was riding, and the frightened animal sprang through the opening,

followed by the one ridden by Nellie. One after another they were driven

through, and as the leaders of the pursuing party dashed into the open

glade, Sedai drove the last unmounted zebra through the opening.

Springing to the ground, the foremost of the pursuers sought to grasp

Sedai, but with a swing of his club about his head, the assailant was

laid low, and Sedai disappeared. Through the crack of the door, as it

swung shut, came a heart-rending cry of “Enola, Enola,” from the King.

Once more, with pale faces and beating hearts, the explorers stood

within the great subterranean cavern, which had so nearly been their

tomb, but which now was a place of refuge. The hidden City of On had

been discovered, its history and its people were known to them, the

object of their journey had been accomplished.

After the party had rested, they took their way across the cave, and

with the zebras this was found easy to do. These trained animals easily

leaped across the break in the bridge, but when it came to the small

entrance at the opposite side of the cave, it was feared that they would

have to be left here to die, as the hole was too small for them to pass

through. Our friends were greatly grieved to think that they would have

to leave these noble beasts to die in such a cruel way, in the cave, but

there seemed no other alternative, and they dismounted and passed

through the hole, but they had not calculated on the training of these

animals, and they had hardly stepped into the open air, when one of the

zebras came crawling through on his haunches, and shortly after the

others followed him. These had been trained to do this, and our friends

now remembered having seen them perform this trick on the night

preceding the Day of Resis.

It took them but a short time to reach the village of Umsaga, where they

found the carriers still waiting for them, and in a few weeks they were

again in Zanzibar, and had no difficulty in getting passage to England,

from where they sailed for home.

A few weeks after their arrival in New York, a double wedding was

announced, and on the evening of the happy day, carriage after carriage

rolled to the door of the Graham mansion, depositing richly clad women

and courtly men. Under an arch of flowers, a little later, stood four

people, arrayed in strange robes of silk, with bands of gold binding

their brows and with girdles of gold about their waists.

In the costume of the Land of On, the double wedding was in progress,

and in the faces of the women could be read a story of trust and

confidence and love supreme, and in those of the men, the satisfaction

of proud manhood fitly crowned.

THE END.

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seasoned with sensationalism, but it is of a healthy and abiding

character. The interest in her tales begins at once, and is maintained

to the close. Her sentiments are so sound, her sympathies so warm and

ready, and her knowledge of manners, character, and the varied incidents

of ordinary life is so thorough, that she would find it difficult to

write any other than an excellent tale if she were to try it.”—_Boston

Banner._

☞ The volumes are all handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold

everywhere, and sent by mail, _postage free_, on receipt of price [$1.50

each].

[Illustration]

G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers,

33 WEST 23d STREET, NEW YORK.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in

spelling.

2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.

3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.

The Day of Resis · 第 49 / 49 章