THE MESSENGER
“He is gone,” I panted, “and the world hasn’t lost much.”
“Well, it didn’t give him much, did it, poor devil, so don’t let’s
speak ill of him,” answered Leo, who had thrown himself exhausted to the
ground. “Perhaps he was all right before they made him mad. At any rate
he had pluck, for I don’t want to tackle such another.”
“How did you manage it?” I asked.
“Dodged in beneath his sword, closed with him, threw him and smashed
him up over that lump of stone. Sheer strength, that’s all. A cruel
business, but it was his life or mine, and there you are. It’s lucky I
finished it in time to help you before that oven-mouthed brute tore your
throat out. Did you ever see such a dog? It looks as large as a young
donkey. Are you much hurt, Horace?”
“Oh, my forearm is chewed to a pulp, but nothing else, I think. Let us
get down to the water; if I can’t drink soon I shall faint. Also the
rest of the pack is somewhere about, fifty or more of them.”
“I don’t think they will trouble us, they have got the horses, poor
beasts. Wait a minute and I will come.”
Then he rose, found the Khan’s sword, a beautiful and ancient weapon,
and with a single cut of its keen edge, killed the second dog that I
had wounded, which was still yowling and snarling at us. After this he
collected the two spears and my knife, saying that they might be useful,
and without trouble caught the Khan’s horse, which stood with hanging
head close by, so tired that even this desperate fight had not
frightened it away.
“Now,” he said, “up you go, old fellow. You are not fit to walk any
farther;” and with his help I climbed into the saddle.
Then slipping the rein over his arm he led the horse, which walked
stiffly, on to the river, that ran within a quarter of a mile of
us, though to me, tortured as I was by pain and half delirious with
exhaustion, the journey seemed long enough.
Still we came there somehow, and, forgetting my wounds, I tumbled from
the horse, threw myself flat and drank and drank, more, I think,
than ever I did before. Not in all my life have I tasted anything so
delicious as was that long draught of water. When I had satisfied my
thirst, I dipped my head and made shift to jerk my wounded arm into it,
for its coolness seemed to still the pain. Presently Leo rose, the water
running from his face and beard, and said--“What shall we do now? The
river seems to be wide, over a hundred yards, and it is low, but there
may be deep water in the middle. Shall we try to cross, in which case we
might drown, or stop where we are till daylight and take our chance of
the death-hounds?”
“I can’t go another foot,” I murmured faintly, “much less try to ford an
unknown river.”
Now, about thirty yards from the shore was an island covered with reeds
and grasses.
“Perhaps we could reach that,” he said. “Come, get on to my back, and we
will try.”
I obeyed with difficulty, and we set out, he feeling his way with the
handle of the spear. The water proved to be quite shallow; indeed, it
never came much above his knees, so that we reached the island without
trouble. Here Leo laid me down on the soft rushes, and, returning to the
mainland, brought over the black horse and the remaining weapons, and
having unsaddled the beast, knee-haltered and turned it loose, whereon
it immediately lay down, for it was too spent to feed.
Then he set to work to doctor my wounds. Well it proved for me that the
sleeve of my garment was so thick, for even through it the flesh of my
forearm was torn to ribbons, moreover a bone seemed to be broken. Leo
collected a double handful of some soft wet moss and, having washed the
arm, wrapped it round with a handkerchief, over which he laid the moss.
Then with a second handkerchief and some strips of linen torn from our
undergarments he fastened a couple of split reeds to serve as rough
splints to the wounded limb. While he was doing this I suppose that I
slept or swooned. At any rate, I remember no more.
Sometime during that night Leo had a strange dream, of which he told me
the next morning. I suppose that it must have been a dream as certainly
I saw or was aware of nothing. Well, he dreamed--I use his own words as
nearly as possible--that again he heard those accursed death-hounds in
full cry. Nearer and nearer they came, following our spoor to the edge
of the river--all the pack that had run down the horses. At the water’s
brink they halted and were mute. Then suddenly a puff of wind brought
the scent of us upon the island to one of them which lifted up its head
and uttered a single bay. The rest clustered about it, and all at once
they made a dash at the water.
Leo could see and hear everything. He felt that after all our doom was
now at hand, and yet, held in the grip of nightmare, if nightmare it
were, he was quite unable to stir or even to cry out to wake and warn
me.
Now followed the marvel of this vision. Giving tongue as they came, half
swimming and half plunging, the hounds drew near to the island where we
slept. Then, suddenly Leo saw that we were no longer alone. In front of
us, on the brink of the water, stood the figure of a woman clad in some
dark garment. He could not describe her face or appearance, for her back
was towards him.
All he knew was that she stood there, like a guard, holding some object
in her raised hand, and that suddenly the advancing hounds caught sight
of her. In an instant it was as though they were paralysed by fear--for
their bays turned to fearful howlings. One or two of those that were
nearest to the island seemed to lose their footing and be swept away by
the stream. The rest struggled back to the bank, and fled wildly like
whipped curs.
Then the dark, commanding figure, which in his dream Leo took to be the
guardian Spirit of the Mountain, vanished. That it left no footprints
behind it I can vouch, for in the morning we looked to see.
When, awakened by the sharp pangs in my arm, I opened my eyes again, the
dawn was breaking. A thin mist hung over the river and the island, and
through it I could see Leo sleeping heavily at my side and the shape of
the black horse, which had risen and was grazing close at hand. I lay
still for a while remembering all that we had undergone and wondering
that I should live to wake, till presently above the murmuring of the
water I heard a sound which terrified me, the sound of voices. I sat up
and peered through the reeds, and there upon the bank, looking enormous
in the mist, I saw two figures mounted upon horses, those of a woman and
a man.
They were pointing to the ground as though they examined spoor in the
sand. I heard the man say something about the dogs not daring to enter
the territory of the Mountain, a remark which came back to my mind again
after Leo had told me his dream. Then I remembered how we were placed.
“Wake!” I whispered to Leo. “Wake, we are pursued.”
He sprang to his feet, rubbing his eyes and snatching at a spear. Now
those upon the bank saw him, and a sweet voice spoke through the mist,
saying--“Lay down that weapon, my guest, for we are not come to harm
you.”
It was the voice of the Khania Atene, and the man with her was the old
Shaman Simbri.
“What shall we do now, Horace?” asked Leo with something like a groan,
for in the whole world there were no two people whom he less wished to
see.
“Nothing,” I answered, “it is for them to play.”
“Come to us,” called the Khania across the water. “I swear that we mean
no harm. Are we not alone?”
“I do not know,” answered Leo, “but it seems unlikely. Where we are we
stop until we are ready to march again.”
Atene spoke to Simbri. What she said we could not hear, for she
whispered, but she appeared to be arguing with him and persuading him to
some course of which he strongly disapproved. Then suddenly both of
them put their horses at the water and rode to us through the shallows.
Reaching the island, they dismounted, and we stood staring at each
other. The old man seemed very weary in body and oppressed in mind, but
the Khania was strong and beautiful as ever, nor had passion and fatigue
left any trace upon her inscrutable face. It was she who broke the
silence, saying--“You have ridden fast and far since last we met, my
guests, and left an evil token to mark the path you took. Yonder among
the rocks one lies dead. Say, how came he to his end, who has no wound
upon him?”
“By these,” answered Leo, stretching out his hands.
“I knew it,” she answered, “and I blame you not, for fate decreed that
death for him, and now it is fulfilled. Still, there are those to whom
you must answer for his blood, and I only can protect you from them.”
“Or betray me to them,” said Leo. “Khania, what do you seek?”
“That answer which you should have given me this twelve hours gone.
Remember, before you speak, that I alone can save your life--aye, and
will do it and clothe you with that dead madman’s crown and mantle.”
“You shall have your answer on yonder Mountain,” said Leo, pointing to
the peak above us, “where I seek mine.”
She paled a little and replied, “To find that it is death, for, as I
have told you, the place is guarded by savage folk who know no pity.”
“So be it. Then Death is the answer that we seek. Come, Horace, let us
go to meet him.”
“I swear to you,” she broke in, “that there dwells not the woman of your
dreams. I am that woman, yes, even I, as you are the man of mine.”
“Then, lady, prove it yonder upon the Mountain,” Leo answered.
“There dwells there no woman,” Atene went on hurriedly, “nothing dwells
there. It is the home of fire and--a Voice.”
“What voice?”
“The Voice of the Oracle that speaks from the fire. The Voice of a
Spirit whom no man has ever seen, or shall see.”
“Come, Horace,” said Leo, and he moved towards the horse.
“Men,” broke in the old Shaman, “would you rush upon your doom? Listen;
I have visited yonder haunted place, for it was I who according to
custom brought thither the body of the Khan Atene’s father for burial,
and I warn you to set no foot within its temples.”
“Which your mistress said that we should never reach,” I commented, but
Leo only answered--“We thank you for your warning,” and added, “Horace,
watch them while I saddle the horse, lest they do us a mischief.”
So I took the spear in my uninjured hand and stood ready. But they made
no attempt to hurt us, only fell back a little and began to talk in
hurried whispers. It was evident to me that they were much perturbed.
In a few minutes the horse was saddled and Leo assisted me to mount it.
Then he said--“We go to accomplish our fate, whatever it may be, but
before we part, Khania, I thank you for the kindness you have shown us,
and pray you to be wise and forget that we have ever been. Through no
will of mine your husband’s blood is on my hands, and that alone must
separate us for ever. We are divided by the doors of death and destiny.
Go back to your people, and pardon me if most unwillingly I have brought
you doubt and trouble. Farewell.”
She listened with bowed head, then replied, very sadly--“I thank you for
your gentle words, but, Leo Vincey, we do not part thus easily. You have
summoned me to the Mountain, and even to the Mountain I shall follow
you. Aye, and there I will meet its Spirit, as I have always known I
must and as the Shaman here has always known I must. Yes, I will match
my strength and magic against hers, as it is decreed that I shall do. To
the victor be that crown for which we have warred for ages.”
Then suddenly Atene sprang to her saddle, and turning her horse’s head
rode it back through the water to the shore, followed by old Simbri, who
lifted up his crooked hands as though in woe and fear, muttering as he
went--“You have entered the forbidden river and now, Atene, the day of
decision is upon us all--upon us and her--that predestined day of ruin
and of war.”
“What do they mean?” asked Leo of me.
“I don’t know,” I answered; “but I have no doubt we shall find out soon
enough and that it will be something unpleasant. Now for this river.”
Before we had struggled through it I thought more than once that the day
of drowning was upon us also, for in places there were deep rapids which
nearly swept us away. But Leo, who waded, leading the Khan’s horse by
the bridle, felt his path and supported himself with the spear shaft, so
that in the end we reached the other bank safely.
Beyond it lay a breadth of marshy lands, that doubtless were overflowed
when the torrent was in flood. Through these we pushed our way as fast
as we could, for we feared lest the Khania had gone to fetch her escort,
which we thought she might have left behind the rise, and would return
with it presently to hunt us down. At that time we did not know what
we learned afterwards, that with its bordering river the soil of the
Mountain was absolutely sacred and, in practice, inviolable. True, it
had been invaded by the people of Kaloon in several wars, but on each
occasion their army was destroyed or met with terrible disaster. Little
wonder then they had come to believe that the House of Fire was under
the protection of some unconquerable Spirit.
Leaving the marsh, we reached a bare, rising plain, which led to the
first slope of the Mountain three or four miles away. Here we expected
every moment to be attacked by the savages of whom we had heard so much,
but no living creature did we see. The place was a desert streaked with
veins of rock that once had been molten lava. _I_ do not remember much
else about it; indeed, the pain in my arm was so sharp that I had no
eyes for physical features. At length the rise ended in a bare, broad
donga, quite destitute of vegetation, of which the bottom was buried in
lava and a debris of rocks washed down by the rain or melting snows from
slopes above. This donga was bordered on the farther side by a cliff,
perhaps fifty feet in height, in which we could see no opening.
Still we descended the place, that was dark and rugged; pervaded,
moreover, by an extraordinary gloom, and as we went perceived that its
lava floor was sprinkled over with a multitude of white objects. Soon we
came to the first of these and found that it was the skeleton of a
human being. Here was a veritable Valley of Dead Bones, thousands upon
thousands of them; a gigantic graveyard. It seemed as though some great
army had perished here.
Indeed, we found afterwards that this was the case, for on one of those
occasions in the far past when the people of Kaloon had attacked the
Mountain tribes, they were trapped and slaughtered in this gully,
leaving their bones as a warning and a token. Among these sad skeletons
we wandered disconsolately, seeking a path up the opposing cliff, and
finding none, until at length we came to a halt, not knowing which way
to turn. Then it was that we met with our first strange experience on
the Mountain.
The gulf and its mouldering relics depressed us, so that for awhile
we were silent, and, to tell the truth, somewhat afraid. Yes, even
the horse seemed afraid, for it snorted a little, hung its head and
shivered. Close by us lay a pile of bones, the remains evidently of a
number of wretched creatures that, dead or living, had been hurled down
from the cliff above, and on the top of the pile was a little huddled
heap, which we took for more bones.
“Unless we can find a way out of this accursed charnel-house before
long, I think that we shall add to its company,” I said, staring round
me.
As the words left my lips it seemed to me that from the corner of my eye
I saw the heap on the top of the bones stir. I looked round. Yes, it
was stirring. It rose, it stood up, a human figure, apparently that of
a woman--but of this I could not be sure--wrapped from head to foot in
white and wearing a hanging veil over its face, or rather a mask with
cut eye-holes. It advanced towards us while we stared at it, till the
horse, catching sight of the thing, shied violently and nearly threw me.
When at a distance of about ten paces it paused and beckoned with its
hand, that was also swathed in white like the arm of a mummy.
“What the devil are you?” shouted Leo, and his voice echoed drearily
among those naked rocks. But the creature did not answer, it only
continued to beckon.
Leo walked up to it to assure himself that we were not the victims of
some hallucination. As he came it glided back to its heap of bones and
stood there like a ghost of one dead arisen from amidst these grinning
evidences of death, or rather a swathed corpse, for that is what it
resembled. Leo followed with the intention of touching it to assure
himself of its reality, whereon it lifted its white-wrapped arm and
struck him lightly on the breast. Then as he recoiled it pointed with
its hand, first upwards as though to the Peak or the sky, and next at
the wall of rock which faced us.
He returned to me saying, “What shall we do?”
“Follow, I suppose. It may be a messenger from above,” and I nodded
toward the mountain crest.
“From below, more likely,” Leo muttered, “for I don’t like the look of
this guide.”
Still he motioned with his hand to the creature to proceed. Apparently
it understood, for it turned to the left and began to pick its way
amongst the stones and skeletons swiftly and without noise. We followed
for several hundred yards till it reached a shallow cleft in the rock.
This cleft we had seen already, but as it appeared to end at a depth of
about thirty feet, we passed on. The figure entered here and vanished.
“It must be a shadow,” said Leo doubtfully.
“Nonsense,” I answered, “shadows don’t strike one. Go on.”
So he led the horse up the cleft, to find that at the end it turned
sharply to the right and that the form was standing there awaiting us.
Forward it went again and we after it down a little gorge that grew ever
gloomier till it terminated in what might have been a cave, or a gallery
cut in the rock.
Here our guide came back to us apparently with the intention of taking
the horse by the bridle, but at this nearer sight of it the brute
snorted and reared up, so that it almost fell backwards upon me. As
it found its feet again the figure struck it on the head in the same
passionless, inhuman way that it had struck Leo, whereon the horse
trembled and burst into a sweat as though with fear, making no further
attempt to escape or to disobey. Then it took one side of the bridle
in its swathed hand and, Leo clinging to the other, we plunged into the
tunnel.
Our position was not pleasant, for we knew not whither we were being led
by this horrible conductor, and suspected that it might be to meet our
deaths in the darkness. Moreover, I guessed that the path was narrow and
bordered by some gulf, for as we went I heard stones fall, apparently to
a considerable depth, while the poor horse lifted its feet gingerly and
snorted in abject fear. At length we saw daylight, and never was I more
glad of its advent, although it showed us that there _was_ a gulf on our
right, and that the path we travelled could not measure more than ten
feet in width.
Now we were out of the tunnel, that evidently had saved us a wide
detour, and standing for the first time upon the actual slope of the
Mountain, which stretched upwards for a great number of miles till it
reached the snow-line above. Here also we saw evidences of human life,
for the ground was cultivated in patches and herds of mountain sheep and
cattle were visible in the distance.
Presently we entered a gully, following a rough path that led along the
edge of a raging torrent. It was a desolate place, half a mile wide
or more, having hundreds of fantastic lava boulders strewn about its
slopes. Before we had gone a mile I heard a shrill whistle, and suddenly
from behind these boulders sprang a number of men, quite fifty of them.
All we could note at the time was that they were brawny, savage-looking
fellows, for the most part red haired and bearded, although their
complexions were rather dark, who wore cloaks of white goat skins and
carried spears and shields. I should imagine that they were not unlike
the ancient Picts and Scots as they appeared to the invading Romans. At
us they came uttering their shrill, whistling cries, evidently with the
intention of spearing us on the spot.
“Now for it,” said Leo, drawing his sword, for escape was impossible;
they were all round us. “Good-bye, Horace.”
“Good-bye,” I answered rather faintly, understanding what the Khania and
the old Shaman had meant when they said that we should be killed before
we ascended the first slope of the Mountain.
Meanwhile our ghastly-looking guide had slipped behind a great boulder,
and even then it occurred to me that her part in the tragedy being
played, she, if it were a woman at all, was withdrawing herself while
we met our miserable fate. But here I did her injustice, for she had, I
suppose, come to save us from this very fate which without her presence
we must most certainly have suffered. When the savages were within a few
yards suddenly she appeared on the top of the boulder, looking like a
second Witch of Endor, and stretched out her arm. Not a word did she
speak, only stretched out her draped arm, but the effect was remarkable
and instantaneous.
At the sight of her down on to their faces went those wild men, every
one of them, as though a lightning stroke had in an instant swept them
out of existence. Then she let her arm fall and beckoned, whereon a
great fellow who, I suppose, was the leader of the band, rose and crept
towards her with bowed head, submissive as a beaten dog. To him she
made signs, pointing to us, pointing to the far-off Peak, crossing and
uncrossing her white-wrapped arms, but so far as I could hear, speaking
no word. It was evident that the chief understood her, however, for
he said something in a guttural language. Then he uttered his shrill
whistle, whereon the band rose and departed thence at full speed,
this way and the other, so that in another minute they had vanished as
quickly as they came.
Now our guide motioned to us to proceed, and led the way upward as
calmly as though nothing had happened.
For over _two_ hours we went on thus till our path brought us from the
ravine on to a grassy declivity, across which it wound its way. Here, to
our astonishment, we found a fire burning, and hanging above the fire
an earthenware pot, which was on the boil, although we could see no man
tending it. The figure signalled to me to dismount, pointing to the pot
in token that we were to eat the food which doubtless she had ordered
the wild men to prepare for us, and very glad was _I_ to obey her.
Provision had been made for the horse also, for near the fire lay a
great bundle of green forage.
While Leo off-saddled the beast and spread the provender for it, taking
with me a spare earthen vessel that lay ready, I went to the edge of the
torrent to drink and steep my wounded arm in its ice-cold stream. This
relieved it greatly, though by now I was sure from various symptoms
that the brute Master’s fangs had fortunately only broken or injured the
small bone, a discovery for which I was thankful enough. Having finished
attending to it as well as I was able, I filled the jar with water.
On my way back a thought struck me, and going to where our mysterious
guide stood still as Lot’s wife after she had been turned into a pillar
of salt, I offered it to her, hoping that she would unveil her face and
drink. Then for the first time she showed some sign of being human,
or so I thought, for it seemed to me that she bowed ever so little
in acknowledgment of the courtesy. If so--and I may have been
mistaken--this was all, for the next instant she turned her back on me
to show that it was declined. So she would not, or for aught I
knew, could not drink. Neither would she eat, for when Leo tried her
afterwards with food she refused it in like fashion.
Meanwhile he had taken the pot off the fire, and as soon as its contents
grew cool enough we fell on them eagerly, for we were starving. After
we had eaten and drunk, Leo re-dressed my arm as best he could and we
rested awhile. Indeed, I think that, being very tired, we began to doze,
for I was awakened by a shadow falling on us and looked up to see our
corpse-like guide standing close by and pointing first to the sun, then
at the horse, as though to show us that we had far to travel. So we
saddled up and went on again somewhat refreshed, for at least we were no
longer ravenous.
All the rest of that day we journeyed on up the grassy slopes, seeing no
man, although occasionally we heard the wild whistle which told us that
we were being watched by the Mountain savages. By sundown the character
of the country had changed, for the grass was replaced with rocks,
amongst which grew stunted firs. We had left the lower slopes and were
beginning to climb the Mountain itself.
The sun sank and we went on through the twilight. The twilight died
and we went on through the dark, our path lit only by the stars and the
faint radiance of the glowing pillar of smoke above the Peak, which
was reflected on to us from the mighty mantle of its snows. Forward we
toiled, whilst a few paces ahead of us walked our unwearying guide. If
she had seemed weird and inhuman before, now she appeared a very ghost,
as, clad in her graveyard white, upon which the faint light shimmered,
never speaking, never looking back, she glided on noiselessly between
the black rocks and the twisted, dark-green firs and junipers.
Soon we lost all count of the road. We turned this way and turned that
way, we passed an open patch and through the shadows of a grove, till at
length as the moon rose we entered a ravine, and following a path
that ran down it, came to a place which is best described as a large
amphitheatre cut by the hand of nature out of the rock of the Mountain.
Evidently it was chosen as a place of defence, for its entrance was
narrow and tortuous, built up at the end also, so that only one person
could pass its gateway at a time. Within an open space and at its
farther side stood low, stone houses built against the rock. In front
of these houses, the moonlight shining full upon them, were gathered
several hundred men and women arranged in a semicircle and in alternate
companies, who appeared to be engaged in the celebration of some rite.
It was wild enough. In front of them, and in the exact centre of the
semi-circle, stood a gigantic, red-bearded man, who was naked except
for a skin girdle about his loins. He was swinging himself backwards
and forwards, his hands resting upon his hips, and as he swung, shouting
something like “_Ho, haha, ho!_” When he bent towards the audience it
bent towards him, and every time he straightened himself it echoed his
final shout of “_Ho!_” in a volume of sound that made the precipices
ring. Nor was this all, for perched upon his hairy head, with arched
back and waving tail, stood a great white cat.
Anything stranger, and indeed more fantastic than the general effect of
this scene, lit by the bright moonlight and set in that wild arena, it
was never my lot to witness. The red-haired, half-naked men and women,
the gigantic priest, the mystical white cat, that, gripping his
scalp with its claws, waved its tail and seemed to take a part in the
performance; the unholy chant and its volleying chorus, all helped to
make it extraordinarily impressive. This struck us the more, perhaps,
because at the time we could not in the least guess its significance,
though we imagined that it must be preliminary to some sacrifice or
offering. It was like the fragment of a nightmare preserved by the
awakened senses in all its mad, meaningless reality.
Now round the open space where these savages were celebrating their
worship, or whatever it might be, ran a rough stone wall about six feet
in height, in which wall was a gateway. Towards this we advanced quite
unseen, for upon our side of the wall grew many stunted pines. Through
these pines our guide led us, till in the thickest of them, some
few yards from the open gateway and a little to the right of it, she
motioned to us to stop.
Then she went to a low place in the wall and stood there as though she
were considering the scene beyond. It seemed to us, indeed, that she
saw what she had not expected and was thereby perplexed or angered.
Presently she appeared to make up her mind, for again she motioned to
us to remain where we were, enjoining silence upon us by placing her
swathed hand upon the mask that hid her face. Next moment she was gone.
How she went, or whither, I cannot say; all we knew was that she was no
longer there.
“What shall we do now?” whispered Leo to me.
“Stay where we are till she comes back again or something happens,” I
answered.
So there being nothing else to be done, we stayed, hoping that the
horse would not betray us by neighing, or that we might not be otherwise
discovered, since we were certain that if so we should be in danger of
death. Very soon, however, we forgot the anxieties of our own position
in the study of the wild scene before us, which now began to develop a
fearful interest.
It would seem that what has been described was but preliminary to the
drama itself, and that this drama was the trial of certain people for
their lives. This we could guess, for after awhile the incantation
ceased and the crowd in front of the big man with the cat upon his head
opened out, while behind him a column of smoke rose into the air, as
though light had been set to some sunk furnace.
Into the space that had thus been cleared were now led seven persons,
whose hands were tied behind them. They were of both sexes and included
an old man and a woman with a tall and handsome figure, who appeared
to be quite young, scarcely more than a girl indeed. These seven were
ranged in a line where they stood, clearly in great fear, for the old
man fell upon his knees and one of the women began to sob. Thus they
were left awhile, perhaps to allow the fire behind them to burn up,
which it soon did with great fierceness, throwing a vivid light upon
every detail of the spectacle.
Now all was ready, and a man brought a wooden tray to the red-bearded
priest, who was seated on a stool, the white cat upon his knees, whither
we had seen it leap from his head a little while before. He took the
tray by its handles and at a word from him the cat jumped on to it and
sat there. Then amidst the most intense silence he rose and uttered some
prayer, apparently to the cat, which sat facing him. This done he turned
the tray round so that the creature’s back was now towards him, and,
advancing to the line of prisoners, began to walk up and down in front
of them, which he did several times, at each turn drawing a little
nearer.
Holding out the tray, he presented it at the face of the prisoner on the
left, whereon the cat rose, arched its back and began to lift its paws
up and down. Presently he moved to the next prisoner and held it before
him awhile, and so on till he came to the fifth, that young woman of
whom I have spoken. Now the cat grew very angry, for in the death-like
stillness we could hear it spitting and growling. At length it seemed
to lift its paws and strike the girl upon the face, whereon she screamed
aloud, a terrible scream. Then all the audience broke out into a shout,
a single word, which we understood, for we had heard one very like it
used by the people of the Plain. It was “Witch! Witch! _Witch!_”
Executioners who were waiting for the victim to be chosen in this ordeal
by cat, rushed forward and seizing the girl began to drag her towards
the fire. The prisoner who was standing by her and whom we rightly
guessed to be her husband, tried to protect her, but his arms being
bound, poor fellow, he could do nothing. One of the executioners knocked
him down with a stick. For a moment his wife escaped and threw herself
upon him, but the brutes lifted her up again, haling her towards the
fire, whilst all the audience shouted wildly.
“I can’t stand this,” said Leo, “it’s murder--coldblooded murder,” and
he drew his sword.
“Best leave the beasts alone,” I answered doubtfully, though my own
blood was boiling in my veins.
Whether he heard or not I do not know, for the next thing I saw was Leo
rushing through the gate waving the Khan’s sword and shouting at the
top of his voice. Then I struck my heels into the ribs of the horse and
followed after him. In ten seconds we were among them. As we came the
savages fell back this way and that, staring at us amazed, for at first
I think they took us for apparitions. Thus Leo on foot and I galloping
after him, we came to the place.
The executioners and their victim were near the fire now--a very great
fire of resinous pine logs built in a pit that measured about eight feet
across. Close to it sat the priest upon his stool, watching the scene
with a cruel smile, and rewarding the cat with little gobbets of raw
meat, that he took from a leathern pouch at his side, occupations in
which he was so deeply engaged that he never saw us until we were right
on to him.
Shouting, “Leave her alone, you blackguards,” Leo rushed at the
executioners, and with a single blow of his sword severed the arm of one
of them who gripped the woman by the nape of the neck.
With a yell of pain and rage the man sprang back and stood waving the
stump towards the people and staring at it wildly. In the confusion that
followed I saw the victim slip from the hands of her astonished would-be
murderers and run into the darkness, where she vanished. Also I saw
the witch-doctor spring up, still holding the tray on which the cat was
sitting, and heard him begin to shout a perfect torrent of furious abuse
at Leo, who in reply waved his sword and cursed him roundly in English
and many other languages.
Then of a sudden the cat upon the tray, infuriated, I suppose, by the
noise and the interruption of its meal, sprang straight at Leo’s face.
He appeared to catch it in mid-air with his left hand and with all his
strength dashed it to the ground, where it lay writhing and screeching.
Then, as though by an afterthought, he stooped, picked the devilish
creature up again and hurled it into the heart of the fire, for he was
mad with rage and knew not what he did.
At the sight of that awful sacrilege--for such it was to them who
worshipped this beast--a gasp of horror rose from the spectators,
followed by a howl of execration. Then like a wave of the sea they
rushed at us. I saw Leo cut one man down, and next instant I was off the
horse and being dragged towards the furnace. At the edge of it I met Leo
in like plight, but fighting furiously, for his strength was great and
they were half afraid of him.
“Why couldn’t you leave the cat alone?” I shouted at him in idiotic
remonstrance, for my brain had gone, and all I knew was that we were
about to be thrown into the fiery pit. Already I was over it; I felt
the flames singe my hair and saw its red caverns awaiting me, when of a
sudden the brutal hands that held me were unloosed and I fell backwards
to the ground, where I lay staring upwards.
This was what I saw. Standing in front of the fire, her draped form
quivering as though with rage, was our ghostly-looking guide, who
pointed with her hand at the gigantic, red-headed witch-doctor. But she
was no longer alone, for with her were a score or more of men clad in
white robes and armed with swords; black-eyed, ascetic-looking men, with
clean-shaved heads and faces, for their scalps shone in the firelight.
At the sight of them terror had seized that multitude which, mad as
goaded bulls but a few seconds before, now fled in every direction like
sheep frightened by a wolf. The leader of the white-robed priests, a man
with a gentle face, which when at rest was clothed in a perpetual smile,
was addressing the medicine-man, and I understood something of his talk.
“Dog,” he said in effect, speaking in a smooth, measured voice that yet
was terrible, “accursed dog, beast-worshipper, what were you about to do
to the guests of the mighty Mother of the Mountain? Is it for this that
you and your idolatries have been spared so long? Answer, if you have
anything to say. Answer quickly, for your time is short.”
With a groan of fear the great fellow flung himself upon his knees, not
to the head-priest who questioned him, but before the quivering shape of
our guide, and to her put up half-articulate prayers for mercy.
“Cease,” said the high-priest, “she is the Minister who judges and the
Sword that strikes. I am the Ears and the Voice. Speak and tell
me--were you about to cast those men, whom you were commanded to receive
hospitably, into yonder fire because they saved the victim of your
devilries and killed the imp you cherished? Nay, I saw it all. Know that
it was but a trap set to catch you, who have been allowed to live too
long.”
But still the wretch writhed before the draped form and howled for
mercy.
“Messenger,” said the high-priest, “with thee the power goes. Declare
thy decree.”
Then our guide lifted her hand slowly and pointed to the fire. At once
the man turned ghastly white, groaned and fell back, as I think, quite
dead, slain by his own terror.
Now many of the people had fled, but some remained, and to these
the priest called in cold tones, bidding them approach. They obeyed,
creeping towards him.
“Look,” he said, pointing to the man, “look and tremble at the justice
of Hes the Mother. Aye, and be sure that as it is with him, so shall it
be with every one of you who dares to defy her and to practise sorcery
and murder. Lift up that dead dog who was your chief.”
Some of them crept forward and did his bidding.
“Now, cast him into the bed which he had made ready for his victims.”
Staggering forward to the edge of the flaming pit, they obeyed, and the
great body fell with a crash amongst the burning boughs and vanished
there.
“Listen, you people,” said the priest, “and learn that this man deserved
his dreadful doom. Know you why he purposed to kill that woman whom the
strangers saved? Because his familiar marked her as a witch, you think.
I tell you it was not so. It was because she being fair, he would
have taken her from her husband, as he had taken many another, and she
refused him. But the Eye saw, the Voice spoke, and the Messenger did
judgment. He is caught in his own snare, and so shall you be, every one
of you who dares to think evil in his heart or to do it with his hands.
“Such is the just decree of the Hesea, spoken by her from her throne
amidst the fires of the Mountain.”