CHAPTER XLVII.IN THE CITY AGAIN.
On the following morning the men were up early and at the terrace, awaiting their King and the strange, sad tale which they must hear. Onrai came on to the terrace with his friends and told the sad story of the battle and the eruption. The Onians stood drinking in every word, their eyes changing from curiosity to pain, and then to horror, their faces depicting the same emotions. Onrai related all of the fearful tale, of how the men had stood up before the negroes even when they were being mowed down like wheat before the scythe, and then of how the elephants had rushed on to them, thus turning the tide of battle, and then of the mad rush for the crevice, and the awful eruption which had killed and burned the survivors.
For some time after the King had finished speaking the men stood with that look of horror overcasting their faces, their very bodies having assumed an attitude which showed the greatest dejection. Onrai then continued: “We will start for the city again to-day and will make as long marches as possible, as we wish to reach there in time to rest, before the ceremonies of the Day of Resis takes place. On the plain, some few miles from here, will be found a herd of nearly a hundred elephants. They were driven, on this desperate night, into the worst part of the downfall of ashes, and half buried and nearly starving, are dying there now, on the plain. I wish one hundred of you to go, andif possible, revive these elephants and bring them to a place where they can receive proper care. The remainder of you will accompany us to the city. We start immediately,” and saying this, he again turned to his friends and told them to make immediate preparations.
This they did and it was only a short while until they were mounted, and on their way from the spot which had become most hateful and loathsome to them. To the avenue, which could only be told now by the bordering trees, they went, and following its course they headed for the city. Hope was rejuvenated as they left the scene of so much pain and death, and life seemed again to be putting on a garment of happiness which had long since been cast aside. The cavalcade of the witnesses of the recent fearful scene, left the place without a regret and without one glance backward to either volcano, bad lands or villa.
Their thoughts turned to things more pleasant, of the green fields and shady trees; even the lake with its memories of night horrors seemed less repulsive than the place they were leaving. But the thought of the city and its quiet pleasures were more pleasing than all others. In a half hour they could see ahead of them the green fields and trees, which they had so longed for. The layer of ashes gradually thinned until there was no longer any trace of it, and the hard, onyx-paved avenue again stretched before them in all its beauty. An hour later and they could see no traces of the eruption at all, and the long track of the cyclone had been cleared, until it presented very much the same appearance as did the rest of the surrounding country.
The country became more cultivated as they proceeded, and men were now seen frequently working in the fields. None of them approached the cavalcade, and none were made acquainted with the sad story of the battle and eruption. And so day after day passed in much the same way as they had on the journey out, the marches being somewhat longer only, and the midday rests somewhat shorter. But the evenings were spent in the cool villas, the nights of prayer being observed now as usual, for with the last body of men who had come to meet them, before leaving the villa near the volcano, had been another priest and attendants, and these were now with the party.
The lake had been reached and its banks followed. All former plans of taking another route back to the city had been abandoned on account of the eruption, and the party was not sorry for this, for the avenue, with its magnificent shade trees and its beautiful surroundings made it an enviable route. The days had passed and with them many miles of the long journey, until on the evening of the ninth day after leaving the villa in the bad lands they were at the point where they had embarked for the island, on the memorable night of the sea-fight. Here they put up for the night at the same villa which had held them once before.
“To-morrow,” said Mr. Bruce, after the evening meal had been disposed of and all had gathered on the terrace for their regular chat before retiring, “to-morrow, if nothing happens, will be our last day’s journey. We will reach the city before noon if we start very early in the morning.”
“I am not sorry that this excursion is so near an end,” said Mr. Graham; “but it has been loaded withadventures and that is what we were looking for when coming here.”
“Yes, but the adventures of the past month or so have none of them been agreeable ones,” said Mr. Bruce.
“I do not agree with you, Mr. Bruce,” said Harry. “I think the last horrible experience has cast a gloom over all of the others, and if it were not for the fearful slaughter of the Onians and our own narrow escape, we would have considered the other adventures as being at least, excitable, if not altogether enjoyable.”
“This land has not seemed the same to me since that fearful day,” said Mr. Bruce.
“I have noticed the change in you,” said Nellie.
“It has made this fair land almost hateful to me and I long to get away from it,” and Mr. Bruce spoke in such a bitter tone, that all looked at him in surprise.
“We have now seen most of the people and their country,” said Mr. Graham, “and it would be well for us to leave as soon as possible, especially as the King has decided that Enola shall marry him on the Day of Resis. By the way, Enola, have you learned anything of Onrai, in regard to this red-letter day?”
“Nothing,” answered Enola, “excepting that it is a day of great joy to all of the participants in its ceremonies.”
“But do not all participate?” questioned Mr. Graham.
“It seems not,” answered Enola. “That is, they do not all participate on the same day; but a day comes to each one when he or she participates. It has a strange meaning, this Day of Resis.”
“Yes, and one which will never be learned until the day comes,” said Harry, “for Onrai told me himself that none of his people were allowed to mention the secrets of the day, but all understood them.”
“And when is this day, which is to make you the wife of the King?” asked Mr. Graham.
“It is barely a week distant,” answered Enola.
“And do you think that you could be happy as the wife of Onrai?” asked Mr. Graham.
“I have never given the subject much thought,” answered Enola, “until the evening preceding our departure from the villa in the bad lands, then he spoke of our marriage and told of our apartments in the Temple, and of our marriage gowns, and another thing, which makes the very thought of marrying Onrai repulsive. He then told me that if he should die first that I would be sacrificed on his bier, and the King and wife would be buried together.”
“That is certainly fearful to contemplate,” said Mr. Graham, “and it but adds to the necessity of our getting out of this country before this eventful day.”
“What do you suppose, though, will be the outcome if we should leave the country before you become the wife of the King?” asked Mr. Bruce.
“It is hard to tell,” answered Enola, “but these people might object seriously to our doing so. It is certain that the King has fully decided on marrying me, and that his people have not only sanctioned the marriage, but it was they who fixed the Day of Resis as the one on which we should be married. They are a strange people. They have gone through life following certain laws and rules and have never been crossed in anything, and it might be a very serious matter totry and balk them in this, probably the most important event which has ever taken place in their history.”
“Yes, but if you do not wish to marry Onrai,” said Mr. Graham, “and you have just said that you would not, we must get away from here before this Day of Resis, in some way or other, whether they object or not.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Bruce, “and as the time is so short it would be well for us to feel around and see just how the land lays.”
Onrai, who had been overseeing some work in another part of the villa, came strolling carelessly on to the terrace, his very carriage lending a gracefulness to his majestic figure, which was charming, to say the least, and Enola thought how easy it could be to love this giant under any other circumstances.
“Onrai,” said Mr. Bruce, “we have been your guests for many weeks now and we feel that to remain with you much longer would be a breach of etiquette, to say the least, and as the affairs in our own country need our almost immediate attention, we feel that we should leave your hospitable country, and return to our own.”
Onrai looked surprised at the very mention of such a thing and made no answer for some time; at last, however, he said:
“Your words grieve me; I had never thought of such a thing as your ever returning to your own country. I have always supposed that you would remain with us for the remainder of your lives. Why should you want to leave us? Have we not been kind to you, and is ours not a good land to live in? You have told me that you have much care, worry, trouble and unhappinessin your world; you have found none of those disturbing influences here; that is, until the awful fight and eruption came, but even that is over now, and your lives will soon drop into the old groove which you have said was the most delightful existence which one could desire. My people love you for yourselves alone, and if they forgot themselves for once, they must not be blamed, for you can readily see how superstition could spring to life in such uneventful lives as theirs. But they have forgotten those fears, and are now as much your friends as is their King. Then why should you wish to leave us? We love you; and as Enola is to marry me, and is to remain with us, it will be pleasant for both her and you to be together. Don’t ever again mention leaving us, let alone ever putting such a suggestion into action. Why, we look upon you no longer as strangers, but as part of us.”
“We thank you for those kind words,” said Mr. Bruce, “but you must understand us, Onrai, we have many personal interests in our world which would take us there, and we have brothers and sisters and friends who would grieve greatly if we should never return. If such were not the case, it would be an easy matter for us to take up our life residence with you.”
“I have, as I had said before,” said Onrai, “never thought of your leaving us, and I cannot now say how such a thing would affect my people or myself. I can only say that we have always thought that you would remain with us, and we cannot think of anything else just now.” And saying this, the King took hold of Enola’s arm gently, and drawing it through his, as she had taught him to, they started to promenade theterrace. After they had gotten out of hearing, Mr. Bruce turned to Mr. Graham, and said:
“Rather non-committal, is he not?”
“I should say so,” said Mr. Graham. “And if I am not mistaken, we will have trouble in getting away from here.”
“One thing sure,” said Mr. Bruce, “he has no intention of letting Enola leave the country.”
“He is a strange man, this Onrai,” said Mr. Graham, “and, in fact, the people are a queer anomaly and hard to make out. They have no secrets, seemingly, their lives are like open books, and they have no reason for being otherwise; but they can be as mum as oysters, as they say in America, when they wish to keep anything from you, and as evasive as a man paying taxes, when they take such a notion. For a race who has never had occasion to use any deception, they are certainly without a peer.”
The talk now turned onto other subjects, and after a short time, all retired to their apartments to take their last sleep in the country, or away from the beautiful Temple. All were up very early the following morning, for they desired to reach the city before noon, so as not to have to stop before getting there for the midday rest. There was more life and gayety in the party on this morning than had been seen among them for weeks. All seemed happy and glad that the long journey was so near an end, and there was much joyous conversation and singing as they rode out before the sun had yet risen.
Straight to the beautiful avenue, which had been their guide for so many, many miles, and the trees of which had given them such shady comfort, they rode.Even the animals seemed to realize that their long journey was at an end, for they started off at a good lively gait and maintained it throughout the morning. Onrai this morning seemed depressed; his head was bent and he seemed dejected. He had forbidden those who had joined the party, just before starting on this journey, never to speak of or mention in any way the things which he had told them on the morning of their departure. He had said that it was his duty as King and head of the people to impart to them the sad news; that the details of this great calamity were better known to him than to any other of his people, and he could the better tell the story for this reason. Therefore, his men had said nothing during the long journey, and those of the Onians whom they had met had learned nothing of the horrible event. Onrai now realized that the time had almost come for him to stand up before the mighty throng which would gather at his command, and tell them of the fearful death of five thousand of the fathers, sons, husbands and brothers of On.
He had seen in his mind’s eye, the look of utter despair and great pain, and had heard the cries of the sufferers, and all this saddened him. He felt that it would be next to an impossibility for him to explain so they could understand, and the doubt which would accompany his explanation would but add to the pain of those who had lost loved ones.
But the elephants and zebras were bearing them fast toward the city, as if mocking the King and being desirous of hurrying him to that time and place so dreaded.
The sun had nearly reached its zenith, when the firstone of the beautiful city villas was seen through the green trees in the distance, and not long after they were once more, after many weeks’ riding, between rows of the pink villas. All was quiet, for this was resting hour; but as they got nearer the heart of the city, numerous ones of the Onians would show themselves, and upon seeing that it was the King and his party, they would make a respectful obeisance and watch them until lost in the distance.
At last the Temple was reached, and our friends were once more in their delightful apartments. Every comfort had been found in the villas en route, but none that they were ever in had such large and magnificent apartments as this grand Temple. The attendants took them in hand at once, and after a bath and light lunch, all of the tired wanderers slept.
In the evening all gathered in the dining hall as usual, and it was hard to suppose that they had been away for so long. Mr. Graham and Mr. Bruce started to take their evening promenade on the terrace, and were surprised to see a number of soldiers, so they looked, walking in a measured beat about the grounds.
“As I thought,” said Mr. Bruce, “we are prisoners.”