CHAPTER VII
BARUNG
At the sound of this soft voice (the extreme softness of Maqueda's voicewas always one of her greatest charms), Orme opened his eyes and staredat her.
"Very queer dream," I heard him mutter. "Must be something in theMohammedan business after all. Extremely beautiful woman, and that goldthing looks well on her dark hair."
"What does the lord your companion say?" asked Maqueda of me.
Having first explained that he was suffering from shock, I translatedword for word, whereon Maqueda blushed to her lovely violet eyes and letfall her veil in a great hurry. In the confusion which ensued, I heardQuick saying to his master:
"No, no, sir; this one ain't no houri. She's a flesh and blood queen,and the pleasantest to look at I ever clapped eyes on, though abenighted African Jew. Wake up, Captain, wake up; you are out of thathell-fire now. It's got the Fung, not you."
The word Fung seemed to rouse Orme.
"Yes," he said; "I understand. The vapour of the stuff poisoned me, butit is passing now. Adams, ask that lady how many men she's got with her.What does she say? About five hundred? Well, then, let her attack Harmacat once. The outer and inner gates are down; the Fung think they haveraised the devil and will run. She can inflict a defeat on them fromwhich they will not recover for years, only it must be done at once,before they get their nerve again, for, after all, they are morefrightened than hurt."
Maqueda listened to this advice intently.
"It is to my liking; it is very good," she said in her quaint archaicArabic when I had finished translating. "But I must consult my Council.Where is my uncle, the prince Joshua?"
"Here, Lady," answered a voice from the press behind, out of whichpresently emerged, mounted on a white horse, a stout man, well advancedin middle age, with a swarthy complexion and remarkably round, prominenteyes. He was clad in the usual Eastern robes, richly worked, over whichhe wore a shirt of chain-mail, and on his head a helmet, with mailflaps, an attire that gave the general effect of an obese Crusader ofthe early Norman period without his cross.
"Is that Joshua?" said Orme, who was wandering a little again."Rummy-looking cock, isn't he? Sergeant, tell Joshua that the walls ofJericho are down, so there'll be no need to blow his own trumpet. I'msure from the look of him that he's a perfect devil with a trumpet."
"What does your companion say?" asked Maqueda again.
I translated the middle part of Orme's remarks, but neither thecommencement nor the end, but even these amused her very much, for sheburst out laughing, and said, pointing to Harmac, over which still hunga cloud of dust:
"Yes, yes, Joshua, my uncle, the walls of Jericho are down, and thequestion is, will you not take your opportunity? So in an hour or two weshall be dead, or if God goes with us, perhaps free from the menace ofthe Fung for years."
The prince Joshua stared at her with his great, prominent eyes, thenanswered in a thick, gobbling voice:
"Are you mad, Child of Kings? Of us Abati here there are but fivehundred men, and of the Fung yonder tens of thousands. If we attacked,they would eat us up. Can five hundred men stand against tens ofthousands?"
"It seems that three stood against them this morning, and worked somedamage, my uncle, but it is true those three are of a different racefrom the Abati," she added with bitter sarcasm. Then she turned to thosebehind her and cried: "Who of my captains and Council will accompany me,if I who am but a woman dare to advance on Harmac?"
Now here and there a voice cried, "I will," or some gorgeously dressedperson stepped forward in a hesitating way, and that was all.
"You see, men of the West!" said Maqueda after a little pause,addressing us three. "I thank you for the great deeds that you havedone and for your counsel. But I cannot take it because my people arenot--warlike," and she covered her face with her hands.
Now there arose a great tumult among her followers, who all began totalk at once. Joshua in particular drew a large sword and waved it,shouting out a recital of the desperate actions of his youth and thenames of Fung chieftains whom he alleged he had killed in single combat.
"Told you that fat cur was a first-class trumpeter," said Ormelanguidly, while the Sergeant ejaculated in tones of deep disgust:
"Good Lord! what a set. Why, Doctor, they ain't fit to savage a refereein a London football ground. Pharaoh there in his basket (where he wasbarking loudly) would make the whole lot run, and if he was out--ohmy! Now, then, you porpoise"--this he addressed to Joshua, who wasflourishing his sword unpleasantly near--"put your pasteboard up, won'tyou, or I'll knock your fat head off," whereon the Prince, who, ifhe did not understand Quick's words, at any rate caught their meaningwonderfully well, did as he was told, and fell back.
Just then, indeed, there was a general movement up the pass, in thewide mouth of which all this scene took place, for suddenly three Fungchieftains appeared galloping toward us, one of whom was veiled witha napkin in which were cut eyeholes. So universal was this retreat,in fact, that we three on our camels, and the Child of Kings on herbeautiful mare, found ourselves left alone.
"An embassy," said Maqueda, scanning the advancing horsemen, who carriedwith them a white flag tied to the blade of a spear. "Physician, willyou and your friends come with me and speak to these messengers?" Andwithout even waiting for an answer, she rode forward fifty yards or soon to the plain, and there reined up and halted till we could bringour camels round and join her. As we did so, the three Fung,splendid-looking, black-faced fellows, arrived at a furious gallop,their lances pointed at us.
"Stand still, friends," said Maqueda; "they mean no harm."
As the words passed her lips, the Fung pulled the horses to theirhaunches, Arab-fashion, lifted spears and saluted. Then theirleader--not the veiled man, but another--spoke in a dialect that I, whohad spent so many years among the savages of the desert, understood wellenough, especially as the base of it was Arabic.
"O, Walda Nagasta, Daughter of Solomon," he said, "we are the tongues ofour Sultan Barung, Son of Barung for a hundred generations, and we speakhis words to the brave white men who are your guests. Thus says Barung.Like the Fat One whom I have already captured, you white men are heroes.Three of you alone, you held the gate against my army. With the weaponsof the white man you killed us from afar, here one and there one. Then,at last, with a great magic of thunder and lightning and earthquake, yousent us by scores into the bosom of our god, and shook down our wallsabout our ears and out of that hell you escaped yourselves.
"Now, O white men, this is the offer of Barung to you: Leave the cursof the Abati, the baboons who gibber and deck themselves out, therock-rabbits who seek safety in the cliffs, and come to him. He willgive you not only life, but all your heart's desire--lands and wivesand horses; great shall you be in his councils and happy shall you live.Moreover, for your sakes he will try to spare your brother, the Fat One,whose eyes look out of black windows, who blows fire from his mouth, andreviles his enemies as never man did before. Yes, although the priestshave doomed him to sacrifice at the next feast of Harmac, he will try tospare him, which, perhaps, he can do by making him, like the Singer ofEgypt, also a priest of Harmac, and thus dedicate forever to the godwith whom, indeed, he says he had been familiar for thousands of years.This is our message, O white men."
Now, when I had translated the substance of this oration to Orme andQuick, for, as I saw by the quiver that passed through her at theFung insults upon her tribe, Maqueda understood it, their tonguesnot differing greatly, Orme who, for the time at any rate, was almosthimself again, said:
"Tell these fellows to say to their Sultan that he is a good old boy,and that we thank him very much; also that we are sorry to have beenobliged to kill so many of them in a way that he must have thoughtunsportsmanlike, but we had to do it, as we are sure he will understand,in order to save our skins. Tell him also that, speaking personally,having sampled the Abati yonder and on our journey, I should like toaccept his invitation. But although, as yet, we have found no men among
them, only, as he says, baboons, rock-rabbits, and boasters withouta fight in them, we have"--and here he bowed his bleeding head toMaqueda--"found a woman with a great heart. Of her salt we have eaten,or are about to eat; to serve her we have come from far upon her camels,and, unless she should be pleased to accompany us, we cannot deserther."
All of this I rendered faithfully, while every one, and especiallyMaqueda, listened with much attention. When they had considered ourwords, the spokesman of the messengers replied to the effect that themotives of our decision were of a nature that commanded their entirerespect and sympathy, especially as their people quite concurred in ourestimate of the character of the Abati ruler, Child of Kings. Thisbeing so, they would amend their proposition, knowing the mind of theirSultan, and having, indeed, plenipotentiary powers.
"Lady of Mur," he went on, addressing Maqueda directly, "fair daughterof the great god Harmac and a mortal queen, what we have offered tothe white lords, your guests, we offer to you also. Barung, our Sultan,shall make you his head wife; or, if that does not please you, you shallwed whom you will"--and, perhaps by accident, the envoy's roving eyesrested for a moment upon Oliver Orme.
"Leave, then, your rock-rabbits, who dare not quit their cliffs when butthree messengers wait without with sticks," and he glanced at the spearin his hand, "and come to dwell among men. Listen, high Lady; we knowyour case. You do your best in a hopeless task. Had it not been for youand your courage, Mur would have been ours three years ago, and it wasours before your tribe wandered thither. But while you can find but ahundred brave warriors to help you, you think the place impregnable,and you have perhaps that number, though we know they are not here; theyguard the gates above. Yes, with a few of your Mountaineers whose heartsare as those of their forefathers were, so far as you have defied allthe power of the Fung, and when you saw that the end drew near, usingyour woman's wit, you sent for the white men to come with their magic,promising to pay them with the gold which you have in such plenty in thetombs of our old kings and in the rocks of the mountains."
"Who told you that, O Tongue of Barung?" asked Maqueda in a lowvoice, speaking for the first time. "The man of the West whom you tookprisoner--he whom you call Fat One?"
"No, no, O Walda Nagasta, the lord Black Windows has told us nothing asyet, except sundry things about the history of our god, with whom, as wesaid, he seems to be familiar, and to whom, therefore, we vowed him atonce. But there are others who tell us things, for in times of truceour peoples trade together a little, and cowards are often spies. Forinstance, we knew that these white men were coming last night, though itis true that we did not know of their fire magic, for, had we done so,we should not have let the camels slip through, since there may be moreof it on them----"
"For your comfort, learn that there is--much more," I interrupted.
"Ah!" replied the Tongue, shaking his head sadly, "and yet we sufferedCat, whom you call Shadrach, to make off with that of your fat brother;yes, and even gave it to him after his own beast had been lamed byaccident. Well, it is our bad luck, and without doubt Harmac is angrywith us to-day. But your answer, O Walda Nagasta, your answer, O Rose ofMur?"
"What can it be, O Voices of Barung the Sultan?" replied Maqueda. "Youknow that by my blood and by my oath of office I am sworn to protect Murto the last."
"And so you shall," pleaded the Tongue, "for when we have cleaned it ofbaboons and rock-rabbits, which, if you were among us, we soon shoulddo, and thus fulfilled our oath to regain our ancient secret City of theRocks, we will set you there once more as its Lady, under Barung, andgive you a multitude of subjects of whom you may be proud."
"It may not be, O Tongue, for they would be worshippers of Harmac, andbetween Jehovah, whom I serve, and Harmac there is war," she answeredwith spirit.
"Yes, sweet-smelling Bud of the Rose, there is war, and let it beadmitted that the first battle has gone against Harmac, thanks to themagic of the white men. Yet yonder he sits in his glory as the spirits,his servants, fashioned him in the beginning," and he pointed with hisspear toward the valley of the idol. "You know our prophecy--that untilHarmac rises from his seat and flies away, for where he goes, the Fungmust follow--till then, I say, we shall hold the plains and the city ofhis name--that is, for ever."
"For ever is a long word, O Mouth of Barung." Then she paused a little,and added slowly, "Did not certain of the gates of Harmac fly farthis morning? Now what if your god should follow his gates and thoseworshippers who went with them, and be seen no more? Or what if theearth should open and swallow him, so that he goes down to hell, whitheryou cannot follow? Or what if the mountains should fall together andbury him from your sight eternally. Or what if the lightnings shouldleap out and shatter him to dust?"
At these ominous words the envoys shivered, and it seemed to me thattheir faces for a moment turned grey.
"Then, O Child of Kings," answered the spokesman solemnly, "the Fungwill acknowledge that your god is greater than our god, and that ourglory is departed."
Thus he spoke and was silent, turning his eyes toward the thirdmessenger, he who wore a cloth or napkin upon his head that was piercedwith eyeholes and hung down to the breast. With a quick motion, the mandragged off this veil and threw it to the ground, revealing a very noblecountenance, not black like that of his followers, but copper-coloured.He was about fifty years of age, with deep-set flashing eyes, hookednose, and a flowing, grizzled beard. The collar of gold about his neckshowed that his rank was high, but when we noticed a second ornamentof gold, also upon his brow, we knew that it must be supreme. For thisornament was nothing less than the symbol of royalty, once worn by theancient Pharaohs of Egypt, the double snakes of the _uraeus_ bendingforward as though to strike, which, as we had seen, rose also from thebrow of the lion-headed sphinx of Harmac.
As he uncovered, his two companions leapt to the ground and prostratedthemselves before him, crying, "Barung! Barung!" while all three of usEnglishmen saluted, involuntarily, I think, and even the Child of Kingsbowed.
The Sultan acknowledged our greetings by raising his spear. Then hespoke in a grave measured voice:
"O Walda Nagasta, and you, white men, sons of great fathers, I havelistened to the talk between you and my servants; I confirm their wordsand I add to them. I am sorry that my generals tried to kill you lastnight. I was making prayer to my god, or it should not have happened. Ihave been well repaid for that deed, since an army should not make warupon four men, even though by their secret power four men can defeat anarmy. I beseech you, and you also, Rose of Mur, to accept my profferedfriendship, since otherwise, ere long, you will soon be dead, and yourwisdom will perish with you for I am weary of this little war against ahandful whom we despise.
"O Walda Nagasta, you have breathed threats against the Majesty ofHarmac, but he is too strong for you, nor may the might that can turn afew bricks to dust and shatter the bones of men prevail against him whois shaped from the heart of a mountain and holds the spirit of eternity.So at least I think: but even if it is decreed otherwise, what will thatavail you? If it should please the god to leave us because of your arts,the Fung will still remain to avenge him ere they follow. Then I swearto you by my majesty and by the bones of my ancestors who sit in thecaves of Mur, that I will spare but one of the Abati Jews, yourself, OChild of Kings, because of your great heart, and the three white men,your guests, should they survive the battle, because of their courageand their wisdom. As for their brother, Black Windows, whom I havecaptured, he must be sacrificed, since I have sworn it, unless youyield, when I will plead for his life to the god, with what result Icannot tell. Yield, then, and I will not even slay the Abati; theyshall live on and serve the Fung as slaves and minister to the glory ofHarmac."
"It may not be, it may not be!" Maqueda answered, striking the pommel ofher saddle with her small hand. "Shall Jehovah whom Solomon, my father,worshipped, Jehovah of all the generations, do homage to an idol shapedby the hands He made? My people are worn out; they have forgot theirfaith and gone astray,
as did Israel in the desert. I know it. It mayeven happen that the time has come for them to perish, who are no longerwarriors, as of old. Well, if so, let them die free, and not as slaves.At least I, in whom their best blood runs, do not seek your mercy,O Barung. I'll be no plaything in your house, who, at the worst, canalways die, having done my duty to my God and those who bred me. Thus Ianswer you as the Child of many Kings. Yet as a woman," she added in agentler voice, "I thank you for your courtesy. When I am slain, Barung,if I am fated to be slain, think kindly of me, as one who did her bestagainst mighty odds," and her voice broke.
"That I shall always do," he answered gravely. "Is it ended?"
"Not quite," she answered. "These Western lords, I give them to you; Iabsolve them from their promise. Why should they perish in a lost cause?If they take their wisdom to you to use against me, you have vowed themtheir lives, and, perhaps, that of their brother, your captive. There isa slave of yours also--you spoke of him, or your servant did--Singer ofEgypt is his name. One of them knew him as a child; perchance you willnot refuse him to that man."
She paused, but Barung made no answer.
"Go, my friends," she went on, turning toward us. "I thank you for yourlong journey on my behalf and the blow you have struck for me, and inpayment I will send you a gift of gold; the Sultan will see it safeinto your hands. I thank you. I wish I could have known more of you, butmayhap we shall meet again in war. Farewell."
She ceased, and I could see that she was watching us intently throughher thin veil. The Sultan also watched us, stroking his long beard, alook of speculation in his eyes, for evidently this play interested himand he wondered how it would end.
"This won't do," said Orme, when he understood the thing. "Higgs wouldnever forgive us if we ate dirt just on the off-chance of saving himfrom sacrifice. He's too straight-minded on big things. But, of course,Doctor," he added jerkily, "you have interests of your own and mustdecide for yourself. I think I can speak for the Sergeant."
"I have decided," I answered. "I hope that my son would never forgive meeither; but if it is otherwise, why, so it must be. Also Barung has madeno promises about him."
"Tell him, then," said Orme. "My head aches infernally, and I want to goto bed, above ground or under it."
So I told him, although, to speak the truth, I felt like a man with aknife in his heart, for it was bitter to come so near to the desire ofyears, to the love of life, and then to lose all hope just because ofduty to the head woman of a pack of effete curs to whom one had chancedto make a promise in order to gain this very end. If we could havesurrendered with honour, at least I should have seen my son, whom now Imight never see again.
One thing, however, I added on the spur of the moment--namely, a requestthat the Sultan would tell the Professor every word that had passed, inorder that whatever happened to him he might know the exact situation.
"My Harmac," said Barung when he had heard, "how disappointed should Ihave been with you if you had answered otherwise when a woman showed youthe way. I have heard of you English before--Arabs and traders broughtme tales of you. For instance, there was one who died defending a cityagainst a worshipper of the Prophet who called himself a prophet, downyonder at Khartoum on the Nile--a great death, they told me, a greatdeath, which your people avenged afterwards.
"Well I did not quite believe the story, and I wished to judge of it byyou. I have judged, white lords, I have judged, and I am sure that yourfat brother, Black Windows, will be proud of you even in the lion'sjaws. Fear not; he shall hear every word. The Singer of Egypt, who, itappears, can talk his tongue, shall tell the tale to him, and make asong of it to be sung over your honourable graves. And now farewell; mayit be my lot to cross swords with one of you before all is done. Thatshall not be yet, for you need rest, especially yonder tall son of a godwho is wounded," and he pointed to Orme. "Child of Kings with a heart ofkings, permit me to kiss your hand and to lead you back to your people,that I would were more worthy of you. Ah! yes, I would that _we_ wereyour people."
Maqueda stretched out her hand, and, taking it, the Sultan barelytouched her fingers with his lips. Then, still holding them, he rodewith her toward the pass.
As we approached its mouth, where the Abati were crowded together,watching our conference, I heard them murmur, "The Sultan, the Sultanhimself!" and saw the prince Joshua mutter some eager words to theofficers about him.
"Look out, Doctor," said Quick into my ear. "Unless I'm mistook, thatporpoise is going to play some game."
Hardly were the words out of his mouth when, uttering the most valiantshouts and with swords drawn, Joshua and a body of his companionsgalloped up and surrounded our little group.
"Now yield, Barung," bellowed Joshua; "yield or die!"
The Sultan stared at him in astonishment, then answered:
"If I had any weapon (he had thrown down his lance when he took Maquedaby the hand), certainly one of us should die, O Hog in man's clothes."
Then he turned to Maqueda and added, "Child of Kings, I knew thesepeople of yours to be cowardly and treacherous, but is it thus that yousuffer them to deal with envoys under a flag of peace?"
"Not so, not so," she cried. "My uncle Joshua, you disgrace me; youmake our people a shame, a hissing, and a reproach. Stand back; let theSultan of the Fung go free."
But they would not; the prize was too great to be readily disgorged.
We looked at each other. "Not at all the game," said Orme. "If theycollar him, we shall be tarred with their extremely dirty brush. Shoveyour camel in front, Sergeant, and if that beggar Joshua tries anytricks, put a bullet through him."
Quick did not need to be told twice. Banging his dromedary's ribs withthe butt end of his rifle, he drove it straight on to Joshua, shouting:
"Out of the light, porpoise!" with the result that the Prince's horsetook fright, and reared up so high that its rider slid off over its tailto find himself seated on the ground, a sorry spectacle in his gorgeousrobes and armour.
Taking advantage of the confusion which ensued, we surrounded the Sultanand escorted him out of the throng back to his two companions, who,seeing that there was something amiss, were galloping toward us.
"I am your debtor," said Barung, "but, O White Men, make me more so.Return, I pray you, to that hog in armour, and say that Barung, Sultanof the Fung, understands from his conduct that he desires to challengehim to single combat, and that, seeing he is fully armed, the Sultan,although he wears no mail, awaits him here and now."
So I went at once with the message. But Joshua was far too clever to bedrawn into any such dangerous adventure.
Nothing, he said, would have given him greater joy than to hack the headfrom the shoulders of this dog of a Gentile sheik. But, unhappily, owingto the conduct of one of us foreigners, he had been thrown from hishorse, and hurt his back, so that he could scarcely stand, much lessfight a duel.
So I returned with my answer, whereat Barung smiled and said nothing.Only, taking from his neck a gold chain which he wore, he proffered itto Quick, who, as he said, had induced the prince Joshua to show hishorsemanship if not his courage. Then he bowed to us, one by one, andbefore the Abati could make up their mind whether to follow him or not,galloped off swiftly with his companions toward Harmac.
Such was our introduction to Barung, Sultan of the Fung, a barbarianwith many good points, among them courage, generosity, and appreciationof those qualities even in a foe, characteristics that may have beenintensified by the blood of his mother, who, I am told, was an Arabof high lineage captured by the Fung in war and given as a wife to thefather of Barung.