Forquite three weeks we pushed forward through the interminable forest until one day we came to a small village beyond which lay a great broad river glistening in the noon-day sun. It was the mighty Comoe. We had entered the kingdom of Anno. In the village I saw traces of human sacrifices, and Omar, in reply to a question, told me that although these happy-lookingnatives were very skilful weavers and dyers who did a brisk trade infu, a bark cloth of excellent quality—which I found afterwards they manufactured from the bark of a tree apparently of the same species as the much-talked-ofrokkoof Uganda—they nevertheless at the death of a chief sacrificed some of his slaves to "water the grave," while the memory of the departed was also honoured with gross orgies which lasted till everything eatable or drinkable in the village was consumed.
We only remained there a few hours, then embarked in three large canoes that were moored to the bank awaiting us. The chief of the village came to pay his respects to Omar, as the son of a ruling monarch, and presented us with food according to the usual custom.
Soon, amid the shouts of the excited villagers who had all come down to see us start, our canoes were pushed off, and the carriers, glad to be relieved of their packs, took the paddles, and away we went gaily up the centre of the winding river. Emerging as suddenly as we had from the gloomy forest depths where no warmth penetrated, into the blazing tropical sun was a sudden change that almost overcame me, for as we rowed along without shelter the rays beat down upon us mercilessly.
The banks were for the most part low, although it was impossible to say what height they were because of the lofty hedges of creeping plants which covered every inch of ground from the water's edge to as high as fifty feet above in some places, while behind them towered the black-green forest with here and there bunches of brilliant flowers or glimpses of countless grey trunks. Sometimes these trees, pressing right up to the edge of the warm sluggish water, grew horizontally to the length of fifty feet over the river. Creepers, vines, whip-like calamus, twistinglianes and great serpent-like convolvuli grew in profusion over everything, while the eye caught glimpses everywhere of gorgeous clouds of insects, gaily-plumaged birds, paraquets, and monkeys swinging in their shaded bowers.
Basking on the banks were crocodiles and hippopotami, while the river itself swarmed with fish and water-snakes. And over all rose the mist caused by heat and moisture, the death-dealing miasma of that tropic world.
But all were in good spirits, for rowing was more pleasurable than tramping in that dismal monotonous primeval forest that rose on either side, therefore against the broad, slowly-flowing waters our carriers bent to their paddles, grinning and joking the while.
Throughout that day Kouaga sat near us, smoking and thinking. Perhaps the responsibilities of State weighed heavily upon him; perhaps he was contemplating with trepidation the passage that would be necessary through a country held by the enemies of Mo; at all events he was morose and taciturn, his dark face bearing a strange, stern look such as I had never before noticed.
During the weeks I had been travelling up country I had embraced every opportunity of improving my knowledge of the curious language spoken by Omar and his mother's subjects, until I found I could understand a large portion of a conversation and could even give directions to our carriers in their own tongue.
Omar was in high spirits, eager, it seemed, to return to his own people. He took a gun and some ammunition from one of the cases that Kouaga had conveyed from England and gave us an exhibition of his skill with the rifle. He was a dead shot. I had no idea he could aim so true. As we sped past in our canoe he would raise his weapon from time to time and pick off a bird uponthe wing, or fire directly into the eye of some basking animal, causing it to utter a roar, lash its tail and disappear to die. He seldom missed, and the accuracy of his aim elicited from the sable rowers low grunts of admiration.
A lazy and enjoyable week we thus spent in the ascent of the Comoe, mostly through forest scenery or undulating grass-lands. By day our rowers bent with rhythmic music to their paddles, and at evening we would disembark, cook our food, and afterwards with Kouaga and my friend I would sleep in our canoe upon the heap of leopard skins that formed our couches. Here we were free from the pest of the myriad insects we had encountered in the forest; and at night, under the brilliant moon, the noble river and giant trees presented a fine picture of solitary grandeur. Onward we pressed through the flourishing country of the Jimini, where we saw many prosperous villages of large roomy houses of rectangular form and reed thatched, wide tracts under cultivation with well-kept crops of cotton and rice. Everywhere we passed, without opposition, and with expressions of good-will from the natives.
One evening when the blood-red sun had sunk low in the water behind us, we suddenly rounded a sharp bend of the river and there burst upon us, rising on our right high into the clouds, the great snow-capped crest of Mount Komono. Near its base it was hidden by a bank of cloud, but above all was clear and bright, so that the summit had the appearance of being suspended in mid-air.
"The Giant's Finger at last!" cried Omar, jumping up excitedly and pointing at the mountain. "We leave the river a little higher up, and push again across the bush a twelve days' journey until we come to the Volta, which will take us forward to the boundary of Mo."
"The Volta!" I cried, remembering the incident at school when he had answered correctly the master's question as to the estuary of that river, and had been dubbed "the Guinea Pig." "Why could we not have ascended it from the sea?"
"Because we should, by so doing, pass nearly the whole distance through the country of Prempeh, of Ashanti, one of our bitter foes. The Adoo, the Anno, and the Jimini kings have long ago made blood-brotherhood with our chiefs, therefore we are enabled to pass in peace by this route alone."
Before darkness fell we disembarked at a small village on the left bank, the name of which I learnt was Tomboura, and after our evening meal were given a hut in which to spend the night. Soon after dawn, however, we heard Kouaga astir, giving rapid orders to the carriers, and when we went out to go down to the canoes they were nowhere to be seen. We noticed, however, that the carriers were preparing their loads which they had no doubt landed during the night, and Omar, advancing towards the Grand Vizier, asked:
"Why do we not ascend the river further? We must cross to the other side if we would join the Great Salt Road."
"Dangers lurk there, O my Master," the negro answered, hitching his burnouse about his shoulders. "We must travel by a circuitous route."
"Did not my mother command me to speed unto her?" Omar asked, puzzled. "Is it not necessary that we should travel by the shortest path?"
"The safest is the shortest," Kouaga answered with a frown.
"But by following this bank we are turning our backsupon Mo. See!" and he produced from his pocket an instrument which I did not know he possessed, a cheap mariner's compass.
"Bah!" cried Kouaga in anger, after he had looked at it a long time. "That clock of the white men has an evil spirit within. See! its trembling finger points always in the direction of the Great Evil. It is bewitched. Cast it away. Kouaga has already made fetish for this journey."
"But why should we travel in an entirely opposite direction to Mo?" I argued, seeing that a crowd of grinning impish-looking carriers had gathered around us, enjoying our controversy.
"For three-score years Kouaga has lived in the forest and on the plains," he answered, turning to me. "He knows the direction of Mo."
"Oh, let him have his own way," Omar cried at last, finding persuasion of no avail. Then turning to the Grand Vizier he said in a firm tone: "Listen, Kouaga. If by your obstinacy we are delayed one single day, I shall inform my mother of that fact, and you will assuredly lose your office and most likely your head also. Therefore act as you think fit. Omar, Prince of Mo, has spoken."
"Kouaga bore the staff of the Great White Queen unto thee. He is the trusted of the Naya, if not of her son," the negro answered, turning away. But in that brief instant I noticed an expression on his face of relentless cruelty. An expression such as one might expect to see upon the face of a murderer.
Truth to tell, I had never liked Kouaga; now I instinctively hated him. But ere he had strode a dozen paces he turned back smiling, saying:
"I mean no defiance to the Son of my Queen. He is in my charge, and I will take him safely back unto Mo,the city with walls unbreakable, the capital of the kingdom unconquerable."
"I shall act as I have decided," Omar answered with true princely hauteur. "The rulers of Mo never depart from their word."
"Very well," the other answered laughing, at the same time lighting his pipe with cool indifference. Then, glancing round to see that all was ready, he shouted an order to the head-man and the string of carriers moved away, jabbering and shouting, down the path into the dark gloomy forest depths.
In ill-humour we followed. I must confess that towards Kouaga I entertained an ill-defined feeling of distrust. Once or twice during that day's march in the dull dispiriting gloom, almost every ray of daylight being shut out by the thick canopy of creepers spreading from tree to tree, I had caught Omar surreptitiously consulting his pocket compass, and saw upon his face a look of anxiety. Yet, on the other hand, Kouaga had become particularly jocular, and the carriers were now singing snatches of songs, joking, and laughing good-humouredly at each other's misfortunes, whereas on our journey from the coast to the river they had generally preserved a sullen silence.
No. Try how I would I could not rid myself of the thought that there was something very mysterious in Kouaga's actions.
Onthe fifth day after we had left our canoes the Grand Vizier of Mo had gone far forward along the line of carriers to speak with the head-man, and Omar waswalking immediately before me at the rear of the procession.
As I pulled him by the sleeve he halted, and when the last carrier had got out of hearing I confided to my friend my misgivings.
"Have you not noticed of late a change in Kouaga's manner towards us?" I asked him. "At first he was deferential and submissive to your every wish, but it occurs to me that of late his manner is overbearing, and he watches us closely, as if fearing we might escape."
"Curiously enough," my friend replied, "I have for some days past had similar thoughts. If he's playing any double game his life won't be worth a moment's purchase when once we enter our own land."
"But you had perfect confidence in him," I observed.
"Yes. If my mother trusts him as her chief adviser I have no right to entertain any suspicion of his fidelity," he said.
"True, but, after all, you are the Prince and heir. Surely he ought to have followed your desire as to the route we should take."
"The route!" he cried. "Since we left the river we have travelled in these cross-paths in such an amazing manner that at present I have no idea where we are."
"The carriers have, or they would not be in such high spirits," I observed.
"Yes, but the strangest part of the affair is that every man among them fears to tell us anything. I have secretly questioned most of them as to Kouaga's motive, and all I can glean is that the fetish-man at Tomboura gathered them together and, after performing some of the usual rites and sacrificing to our Crocodile-god Zomara, told them if a word were spoken to us regardingour route or destination the dread god will meet us in the forest path and devour all of us. Not one shall survive."
"And you believe this pagan humbug?" I exclaimed, in disgust.
He opened his dark eyes wide, regarding me in astonishment. I had never before ridiculed his religion.
"The jujus around my neck preserve me from every evil, except those worked by Zomara. He is the great god whose power only the fetish-man can withstand. Slaves, princes, kings, all sacrifice to him. If we offend him death or torture is inevitably our punishment."
"Do you think you've offended him?" I inquired.
"I know not," he sighed with a serious look. "If I have, then nothing can save me; the fetish-man of Tomboura has worked evil against me."
"Well," I said, "this is my first experience of Africa, but it strikes me very forcibly that these fetish-men of yours will do anything they are paid to do. What was there to prevent Kouaga paying that hideous old demon at Tomboura to utter his horrible incantations and so frighten our carriers into silence?"
"Zomara is a terrible god. None dare tamper with him, or utter his name in vain threats," Omar answered.
"Well, whoever he is I still stick to my opinion," I said. "Depend upon it Kouaga is at the bottom of this conspiracy of silence."
Just at that moment the black face of that worthy, rendered darker by the snow-white haick that surrounded it, appeared among the tangled bamboos. He had missed us, and had come back to search. Yes, my surmise seemed correct. He was watching us closely and trying to understand our conversation.
That evening when we halted and the natives wentinto the bush to collect fuel for the fire, I managed to take one or two of them aside and secretly inquire our destination. But I got the same answer always.
"Zomara has tied our tongues. He commands us to be mute, or we shall be destroyed to the last one."
To endeavour to learn anything from these simple-minded blacks seemed useless. They would speak freely on every subject, indeed they seemed fond of talking with one whose face was white, yet regarding our journey they obeyed the command of the fetish-man to the very letter. It is the same everywhere in West and Central Africa; the fetish-man rules. What he says is more law than the word of kings. If he declares a man or woman bewitched that person will assuredly be murdered before the sun sets; if he orders the people of the village to perform a certain action they will do it, even if death stares them in the face. They blindly believe that the fetish is all-powerful, and that the half naked dancing savages who administer it are endowed with supernatural powers.
That night, feeling tired out I threw myself down early near the camp fire and slept soundly for several hours. But at length some unusual sound awoke me, and when I opened my eyes I saw that the fire had died down to one single flickering ember, which still blazing cast a fitful light upon the boles of the forest giants around.
Scarcely had I opened my eyes when I became conscious of low whispering in my vicinity. This thoroughly aroused me, and without stirring my body I slowly turned my head, when to my astonishment I beheld Kouaga, standing erect with arms folded beneath his white burnouse, talking in an undertone to a dark-bearded stranger who also wore flowing Arab garments and bore in his hand a long-barrelled flint-lock gun withquaintly-inlaid stock. The man seemed older than the Grand Vizier of Mo, for his beard was tinged with grey, and the brown hand that held the gun was lean and bony.
I strained my ears to catch the drift of their earnest conversation, but could not. It was tantalizing that they spoke in so low a tone, for the stranger seemed to mumble into his beard, while Kouaga whispered with his mouth turned from me. The presence of a stranger in our camp was, to say the least, strange, for through those gloomy forest glades no single traveller could journey. Omar had told me that for a person to attempt to traverse that region alone would be merely suicide. My friend was sleeping soundly at some distance from me, therefore I could not awaken him without attracting attention. If only he would open his eyes, I thought, he might recognize the new comer, either as friend or foe.
But no, he slept on as peacefully as if he were still in the cosy dormitory at old Trigger's, with its blue and white counterpanes and windows commanding a wide sweep of distant sea.
While I lay gazing upon my friend and hoping that he might open his eyes, I suddenly heard the stranger raise his voice louder than before. It was only for an instant, but in that moment upon my ear there fell three words the English equivalents of which I understood.
They were "Seek the treasure!"
But I could distinguish nothing more, and in a few moments the two men hurriedly snapped fingers, and the mysterious stranger disappeared noiselessly into the dark silent bush.
When the loud blasts from the ivory-horn, with its hideous ornamentation of human teeth, proclaimed the advent of another day I took Omar aside and told himof what I had witnessed and overheard. After I had described the stranger he said:
"I know not who he may be. It is evident, however, we are travelling in the opposite direction to Mo, therefore we will go no further. I will command Kouaga to return to Tomboura, cross the river, and press forward over the hills of Dabagakha to the Black Volta."
"And if he refuses?"
"Then we will go alone."
An hour later, when we had eaten our plantains and the usual babel was proceeding which was always precursory of a start being made, my companion strode up to Kouaga with a look of fierce determination upon his face, saying:
"Give ear to my words. I am Omar, son of the Naya, the Great White Queen, before whose wrath all nations tremble."
"Speak. I listen," answered the giant negro, with a look of surprise upon his ugly countenance.
"I will go no further along this path. You, the head-man and the carriers shall return with me to the bank of the Comoe, otherwise my mother shall punish you for disobeying my orders. All who dare go forward from this moment shall be sacrificed at the yam feast and the dogs shall eat their entrails. These are my words."
"Then whither would you go from Tomboura?" asked Kouaga, apparently astonished at Omar's sudden decision.
"I will only approach Mo by the Great Salt Road."
"It is impossible. There is fighting in the hills, for the Karaboro and the Dagari are at war."
"And what matters, pray, since they are both our allies?" Omar asked.
For a moment the negro was nonplussed, but with a broad grin showing his even row of teeth, he said:
"The bird goes not into the serpent's lair, neither does the son of the Queen enter the country of her enemies."
"I have already given tongue to my decision," my friend replied. "Advance, and each of your heads shall fall beneath the keendokaof Gankoma, the executioner."
Kouaga, hearing these words, set his teeth fiercely, and glancing at us with his fiery eyes, the whites of which were bloodshot, retorted:
"Recede, and we will carry you forward, bound as a slave."
"This is a threat!" cried Omar, drawing himself up to his full height and stretching forth his arm. "You, whom my mother raised from a palace-slave, thus threaten me! Let it be thus, but I warn you that if you ever set foot across the borders of Mo, your head shall be set upon the palace wall as a warning to disobedient slaves." Then, turning to me, and waving back the crowd of carriers who had collected and stood open-mouthed around us, he said, "Come, Scars, we will return. I have thrice traversed the path from Tomboura to the Great Salt Road, and can follow it without a guide."
Then, calling down the curse of Zomara, the dreaded, upon them all, he turned on his heel and walked down the narrow path we had traversed on the previous night, while, with a final glance of triumph at the irate negro, I followed.
Scarcely had we gone fifty yards, however, before a dozen carriers, acting upon orders from Kouaga, hadrushed after us, seized us, and dragged us back to him despite our desperate struggles.
"So you defy me!" the negro cried in a paroxysm of rage, as Omar was brought up. "This is because I was fool enough to allow your white-faced friend to accompany you. Our country is no place for whites, but he will make a good sacrifice to Zomara when our journey is ended. You have both refused to accompany us, therefore we must use force." Then, turning to the half-naked savages who held us, he said: "Bind them, and tie them in their hammocks. Let not their bonds be loosened until our march be ended, for both are my prisoners." And he laughed triumphantly at our discomfiture.
"You shall pay for this insult with your life," Omar cried angrily.
"Take off his European clothes, and let his string of royal jujus be burned. Henceforth he is a slave, as also is his white companion."
Next moment twenty ready hands tore from Omar most of his well-worn clothes, and although he fought with all the strength of which he was capable, his necklet of jujus, the magical charms that protected the Queen's son from every evil, was ruthlessly spat upon and destroyed by the excited natives, together with his clothes.
Then, after each of us had been tied in a hammock with our hands behind our backs, we were lifted by four stalwart bearers and carried forward at a brisk pace towards an unknown bourne.
It was evident that we were not going to Mo, and it was equally evident too, that Kouaga, whom we had trusted implicitly, was our bitter enemy.
Throughdense dark forests and over great open grass-lands, passing several villages, we were carried forward many days, still bound and never allowed to have our hands free except during our meals.
The face of Kouaga grew more brutal and fierce as we proceeded, and he urged on the carriers until we found ourselves travelling at a pace that for African natives was amazing.
Omar spoke little. He was always pre-occupied and thoughtful. He had told me that he now regretted having brought me with him from England, but I assured him that our misfortunes were not of our own seeking, and urged him to be of good cheer.
Truth to tell, my heart was full of dark forebodings. I saw in the ugly countenance of Kouaga expressions of deadly hatred, and I knew that they were of ill-portent. Yet to escape in that deadly bush, extending for hundreds and hundreds of miles, dark, monotonous and impenetrable, meant certain death even if we eluded the watchful vigilance of this muscular negro.
One day, when passing through a forest village, a half-naked savage rushed towards us brandishing his spear and uttering a loud yell, but whether expressive of hatred or joy I knew not. Suddenly, as he approached the hammock in which Omar was lying, my friend addressed him in some tongue that was strange to me, but to which the native answered readily.
"As I thought, Scars!" Omar shouted to me inEnglish a moment later. "We have travelled away from Mo, crossed Tieba's territory, and have now entered the country of the great Mohammedan chief Samory, my nation's bitterest enemy. It was he who seized my father by a ruse and sent his head back to my mother as a hideous souvenir."
"But what object has Kouaga in bringing us here?" I asked.
"I cannot imagine," he answered. "Unless he travelled to England, for the sole purpose of delivering me into the hands of our enemies. Three times within the last five years has Samory attempted to invade our country, but each time has been repulsed with a loss that has partially paralysed his power. All along the right bank of the Upper Niger his bands of hirelings and mercenaries, whom we call Sofas, are constantly raiding for slaves. Indeed Samory's troops are the fiercest and most merciless in this country. They are the riff-raff of the West Soudan and are a terror to friend and foe, a bar to the peaceful settlement of all lands within the range of their devastating expeditions."
"Do they make raids towards your country?" I inquired, for I had heard long ago of this notorious slave-dealing chief.
"Yes, constantly. They are pitiless marauders who lay waste whole kingdoms and transform populous districts into gloomy solitudes. While on my way from Mo to England we passed through Sati, a large market town at the convergence of several caravan routes, which was only three months before a prosperous and wealthy place situated fifty miles south of our border. We found everything had been raided by the Sofas, who had sacked, burned or destroyed what they were unable to takeaway. Heaps of cinders marked the sites of former homesteads, the ground was strewn with potsherds, rice and other grain trodden under foot, while our horses moved forward knee deep in ashes. The whole land, lately very rich, prosperous and thickly peopled, was a melancholy picture of utter desolation."
"Do you think we have actually fallen into Samory's hands?" I asked.
"I fear so."
"But is not Kouaga Grand Vizier of Mo? Surely he would not dare to take us through the enemy's land," I said.
"Do you not remember that when he met us at Eastbourne he forbade us to inform Makhana of our intended departure?" he answered. "He had some object in securing our silence and getting us away from England secretly. It now appears more than probable that my mother has dismissed and banished him, and he has gone over to our enemy, Samory, who desires to seize our country."
"In that case our position is indeed serious," I observed. "We must do something to escape."
"No," he said. "We cannot escape. Let's put on a bold front, and if we find ourselves prisoners of the slave-raiding chief, I, at least, will show him that I am heir to the Emerald Throne of Mo."
As each day dawned we still held upon our way, until at length, under a broiling noon-day sun, we crossed a wide stretch of fertile grass-land where cattle were grazing, and there rose high before us the white fortified walls of a large town of flat-roofed Moorish-looking houses. It was, we afterwards learnt, called Koussan, one of Samory's principal strongholds.
As we approached the open gate, flanked on either side by watch-towers and guarded by soldiers wearing Arab fezes and loose white garments, a great rabble came forth to meet us. We heard the din of tom-toms beaten within the city, joyous shouts, and loud ear-piercing blasts upon those great horns formed out of elephant tusks.
Thus, in triumph, amid the howls and execrations of the mob, Omar, son of Sanom, and myself, were marched onward through the gate and up a steep narrow winding street, where the solidly-built houses were set close together to obtain the shade, to the market-place. Here, amid the promiscuous firing of long flint-lock guns and quaint ancient pistols, such as one sees in curiosity shops at home, a further demonstration was held, our carriers themselves infected by the popular enthusiasm, seeming also to lose their senses. They heaped upon Omar every indignity, scoffed and spat at him, while my own pale face arousing the ire of the fanatical Mohammedan populace, they denounced me as an infidel accursed of Allah, and urged my captors to kill me and give my flesh to the dogs.
Truly we were in pitiable plight.
I looked at Omar, but heedless of all their threats and jeers, he walked with princely gait. His hands were tied behind his back, his head erect, and his eyes flashed with scorn upon those who sought his death. Presently, turning sharply to the left, we found ourselves in another square which we crossed, entering a great gateway guarded by soldiers, and as soon as we were inside the heavy iron-studded doors closed with an ominous clang. I glanced round at the thick impregnable walls and knew that we were in the Kasbah, or citadel.Gaily-dressed soldiers were leaning or squatting everywhere as we crossed the several court-yards, one after the other, until, by the direction of one of the officials who had joined us on entering, we were led through a low arched door, and thence a dozen soldiers who had come forward hurried us down a flight of dark damp steps into a foul noisome chamber below.
Struggles and protestations were useless. We were pushed forward into a deep narrow cell lit only by a tiny crack in the paving of the court above and the door quickly bolted upon us.
"Well, this is certainly a dire misfortune," I said, when we had both walked round inspecting the black dank walls of our prison. "I wonder what fate is in store for us?"
"Though they destroyed my jujus, they cannot invoke the curses of Zomara upon me," he said. "The Crocodile-god will not hear any enemies of the Naya."
"But have you no idea whatever of the motive Kouaga has had in bringing you hither?" I asked.
"Not the slightest," he answered, seating himself at last on the stone bench to rest. "It is evident, however, that he is a traitor in the pay of Samory. On each occasion when the Moslem chief endeavoured to conquer our country, it was Kouaga who assumed the generalship of our troops; it was Kouaga who fought valiantly for his queen with his own keen sword; it was Kouaga who drove back the enemy and urged our hosts to slaughter them without mercy; and it was Kouaga who, with fiendish hatred, put the prisoners to the torture. In him my mother had a most trusted servant."
"He doesn't seem very trustworthy now," I observed. "It seems to me we are caught like rats in a trap."
"True," he said. "We are beset by dangers, but may the blessings of their Allah turn to curses upon their heads. It may be that our ignominious situation will not satisfy the malice that Samory has conceived against me, but if a single hair of the head of either of us is injured, Zomara, the Crocodile-god, will punish those who seek our discomfiture."
It occurred to me that it was all very well to speak in this strain, but as no man is a prince except in his own country, it seemed idle to expect mercy or pity. Omar was in prison for some unknown offence, and I was held captive with a well-remembered threat from Kouaga that my life should be sacrificed.
For six hours we remained without food, but when the light above had quite faded, three soldiers with clanging swords unbarred the door and pushed through some water in an earthen vessel and somefufu, a kind of dumpling made of mashed African potato. During the night, disturbed by vermin of all sorts, including some horrible little snakes, we slept little, and at dawn we were again visited by our captors. The next day and the next passed uneventfully. For exercise we paced our cell times without number, and when tired would seat ourselves on the rough stone bench and calmly discuss the situation.
The Naya, the mysterious Great White Queen, had ordered Omar to return with all haste, yet already two moons had run their course since we had landed in Africa. This troubled my companion even more than the fact of being betrayed into the hands of his enemies.
The tiny streak of light that showed high above our heads grew brighter towards noon, then began slowly to decline. Before the shadows had lengthened in thecourt above, however, the sound of our door being unbarred aroused us from our lethargy, and a moment later, three soldiers entered and told us to prepare to go before the great ruler Samory. Omar, attired only in a small garment of bark-cloth, took no heed of his toilet, therefore we at once announced our readiness to leave the loathsome place with its myriad creeping things, and it was with a feeling of intense relief that a few minutes later we ascended to the blessed light of day.
Marched between a small posse of soldiers, we crossed the court to a larger and more handsome square, decorated in Arab style with horseshoe arches and wide colonnades, until at the further end a great curtain of crimson velvet was drawn aside and we found ourselves in a spacious hall, wherein many gorgeously attired persons had assembled and in the centre of which was erected a great canopy of amaranth-coloured silk supported by pillars of gold surmounted by the crescent. Beneath, reclining on a divan, slowly fanned by a dozen gaudily-attired negroes, was a dark-faced, full-bearded man of middle age, whose black eyes regarded us keenly as we entered. He was dressed in a robe of bright yellow silk, and in his turban there glittered a single diamond that sparkled and gleamed with a thousand iridescent rays. His fat brown hand was loaded with rings, and jewels glittered everywhere upon his belt, his sword, and his slippers of bright green.
It was the notorious and dreaded chieftain, Samory.
Aswe were led forward to the space in front of the divan all eyes were directed towards us. The glitter and pomp of the merciless slave-raider's court was dazzling. Before their ruler all men salaamed. His officers surrounding him, watched every movement of his face, and the four-score slaves behind him stood mute and motionless, ready to do his bidding at any instant.
When our feet touched the great carpet spread before him, and we halted, he raised himself to a sitting posture, fixing his dark, gleaming eyes upon us. At sight of Omar a sudden frown of displeasure crossed his features, but an instant later a grim smile of triumph lit his sinister face.
Apparently he was waiting for us to bow before him, but Omar had forbidden me to do so.
"And who, pray, art thou, that thou deignest not to bend the knee before me?" he cried, in anger that his people should witness a slur thus cast upon his power.
"I am Omar, son of the Naya of Mo," my companion answered, folding his arms resolutely, and regarding the potentate with supreme disdain. "Princes do not make obeisance to any but their equals."
"Am I not thine equal, then, thou son of offal?" cried Samory.
"In strength thou art, possibly, but not by birth. In order to protect thy country against the white men thouhast sought to make palaver with Prempeh of Ashanti, but I would remind thee that the rulers of Mo have never besought any aid of their neighbours."
"Thou speakest well, lad," he said thoughtfully. "Thine is a mighty kingdom, but by peace or war I will rule over it."
"Never, while I live," answered Omar with pride.
"But thou art the last of thy race. If thou diest—what then?"
"If I die, then every man in Mo will seek blood revenge upon thee, and Zomara will guide them into this, thy land, and arm them with spears of fire."
"I care nought for thy Naya nor thy pagan Crocodile-god," exclaimed the Mohammedan chief impatiently. "Bow unto my divan, or of a verity my slaves shall compel thee."
"I refuse."
"May thine entrails be burned," cried Samory in anger, and raising his hand he ordered the guards of the divan to cast us both to earth before him.
They threw us down, and their ruler, rising, placed his foot firmly on the neck of the heir to the throne of Mo, saying in a loud voice:
"As I hold thee thus within my power, so also will I, ere many moons have run, hold thy country. Cursed by the Prophet may be thy detested race. There is neither peace nor friendship, there is neither gratitude nor love in the people of Samory, and they shall be the first to curse thee. When I enter Mo every day shall the knife of the executioner be fed with blood; thy cities shall mourn the loss of their sages, husbands their wives, wives their children, and children their fathers. The country shall be devastated to its most northerlylimits and it shall be rendered a wilderness of silence and sorrow."
Then withdrawing his foot, amid the plaudits of his crowd of fierce-looking courtiers, Omar sprang to his feet in rage, and facing him, cried:
"The men of Mo are forewarned already against thy designs, notwithstanding that our ex-Grand Vizier Kouaga, the son of a dungheap who betrayed us hither, hath joined thine accursed ranks. The soldiers of the Naya are still anxious for the fourth time to try conclusions with thy white-cloaked rabble. Come, march forward into Mo—thou wilt never return."
"Thou defiest me, even as thy mother hath done," he roared, his hand upon the bejewelled hilt of his curved blade. "Were it not for one fact I would smite thee dead."
"I fear thee not," Omar answered with a calmness that astounded me. "Sooner or later thou wilt, I suppose, order my death, therefore the sooner the better."
"Why insultest thou our race by bringing hither with thee this dog of a Christian?" the chief enquired, looking at me with a terrible expression of hatred.
"He cometh as my companion," replied Omar briefly.
"As thy companion he shall accompany thee to the grave," Samory cried fiercely, his eyes swimming in malice.
"So be it," answered Omar, with a smile of contempt. "May Zomara curse thy work."
"Speak, infidel!" Samory said, fixing his fiery glance upon me. "Whence comest thou?"
"From England," I answered briefly, in fear.
"From that country where dwell the accursed of Allah," he said, as if to himself. "They are pig-eaterswho despise the Book of Everlasting Will and declare our great Prophet—on whom may be everlasting peace—to be a false one. Accursed be thy country, infidel! May thy people suffer every torment of Al-Hâwiyat; may their food be offal, and may they slake their thirst with boiling pitch. The white men have sent their messengers to me time after time to urge me to ally myself with them, but it shall never be recorded that Samory besought the assistance of infidels to extend his kingdom. We fight beneath the green banner of Al-Islâm, and will continue to do so until we die. Ere long, the day of the Jehad will dawn; then the forces of Al-Islâm will unite to sweep from the face of the earth those white parasites who seek the overthrow of the Faithful. Allah is merciful, and his servant is patient," added the old scoundrel piously.
There arose, as if with one voice from those assembled, the words: "Samory hath spoken! Allah send him blessings abundant!" and as they did so each fingered his amulets, little scraps of parchment whereon verses from the Korân were written in sprawly Arabic. At that moment, too, I noticed, for the first time, that right opposite us was the grinning, evil face of the black giant, Kouaga, the man who had so foully betrayed us.
We exchanged glances, and he laughed at us in triumph.
"Dost thou intend to keep me as hostage?" Omar asked his mother's enemy boldly.
"Until thou hast performed the service for which I caused thee to journey hither with our good Kouaga."
"The traitor's head shall fall," Omar blurted out with pardonable passion. Then he asked, "Thou desirest a service of me. Well, what is it?"
There was a silence so deep that a feather if dropped upon the cool floor of polished marble would have made audible sound, and Samory slowly seated himself.
"Give ear unto my words," he said a few moments later, in a clear voice, as he stroked his beard with his fat hand. "I know that within thine impenetrable kingdom many undreamed-of mysteries and wealth untold lie concealed. This is common report. Thine ancestors in their treasure-house, the whereabouts of which is known only to the Naya and to thyself, have deposited heaps of jewels and great quantities of gold, the spoils of war through many generations. I desire to ascertain, and I will ascertain from thine own lips, the exact spot where we may seek that treasure."
A look of abject bewilderment crossed Omar's features, and he turned to me, saying in English:
"All is now plain, Scars. Because only the Naya herself is aware of the spot where the treasure of the Sanoms is deposited, my mother, on the eve of my departure for England, divulged to me the secret, fearing lest she should die before my return. Kouaga was the only person who knew that my mother had thus spoken to me, and he has informed Samory and joined him for the purpose of obtaining the treasure."
"Is not Kouaga aware of the spot where the treasure is hidden?" I asked hurriedly.
"No. He came to England at Samory's suggestion to convey me hither so that they could get the secret from me. On gaining the information it is apparently their intention to make a raid, with Kouaga leading, in order to secure our wealth."
But Samory himself interrupted our consultation.
"Speak not with thine infidel companion," he roared."Answer me. Tell me where this treasure of the Sanoms lieth."
"The son of the Naya is no traitor," he answered with hauteur.
"If thou speakest thou shalt have thy liberty. Indeed, if thou deemest fit thou shalt join the expedition into Mo, and share with us the loot," the chief urged.
"Thy words insult me," cried Omar, full of wrath. "I will never share with thee, who murdered my father, that which is my birthright."
"Very well," answered Samory indifferently. "Thou needest not. We will take it, kill thy mother and annex thy country. Already the whole kingdom is ripe for revolt, and we shall quickly accomplish the rest. I had thee brought hither because thou alone holdest a secret I desire to know—the secret of the royal Treasure-house, and——"
"And I refuse to disclose it," my companion said, interrupting the gaudily-attired potentate.
"If thou wilt not speak willingly, then my executioners shall force thee to loosen thine obstinate tongue's strings," Samory cried, frowning, while the hideous face of the black traitor grinned horribly.
"The secret of the queen is inviolable. My lips are sealed," answered Omar with resolution.
"Then my executioners shall unseal them."
"If I cannot save my country from desolation at the hands of thy lawless bands," exclaimed my friend, "I can at least preserve from thee the treasure accumulated by my ancestors to be used only for the emancipation of our country should evil befall it. Until the present, Mo hath been held against all invaders by the hosts ready atthe hands of my mother and her predecessors, and even now if thou marchest over my dead body thy path will not be clear of those who will oppose thee. Remember," he added, "the army of the Naya possesses many pom-poms[A]of the English, each of which is equal in power to the fire of one of thy battalions. With them our people will sweep away thine hosts like grains of sand before the sirocco."
"Darest thou oppose my will?" cried Samory, rising in a sudden ebullition of wrath.
"Thy will ruleth me not," Omar answered, his face pale and calm. "A Sanom never betrayed his trust, even though he suffered death."
"Very well, offspring of sebel," he hissed between his white teeth. "We will test thy resolution, and cause thee to eat thy brave words. Thy body shall be racked by the torture, and thy flesh given unto the ants to eat." Then, turning to the executioner, a big negro with face hideously scarred by many cuts, who stood at his side leaning upon his razor-edgeddoka, he added:
"You know my will. Loosen the lad's tongue. Let it be done here, so that we may watch the effect of thy persuasion."
And all laughed loudly at their ruler's grim humour, while twenty slaves of the executioner rushed away in obedience to their master's command to bring in the instruments of torture.
I turned to Omar. He still stood erect, with arms folded. But his face was pale as death.