She: A History of Adventure

  Then, of a sudden, the end came. The lion’s head fell forward on the reptile’s back, and with an awful groan he died, and the crocodile, after standing for a minute motionless, slowly rolled over on to his side, his jaws still fixed across the carcase of the lion, which, as we found, he had bitten almost in halves.

  This duel to the death was a wonderful and a shocking sight, and one that I suppose few men have seen. And thus it ended.

  When it was all over, leaving Mahomed to keep a look out, we spent the rest of the night in such comparative peace as the mosquitoes would allow.

  *There is a known species of magnolia with pink flowers. It is indigenous in Sikkim, and known as Magnolia Campbellii.—EDITOR.

  *Near Kilwa, on the East Coast of Africa, about 400 miles south of Zanzibar, is a cliff which has been recently washed by the waves. On the top of this cliff are Persian tombs known to be at least seven centuries old by the dates still legible upon them. Beneath these tombs is a layer of débris representing a city. Farther down the cliff is a second layer representing an older city, and farther down still a third layer, the remains of yet another city of vast and unknown antiquity. Beneath the bottom city were recently found some specimens of glazed earthenware, such as are occasionally to be met with on that coast to this day. I believe that they are now in the possession of Sir John Kirk.—EDITOR.

  VI

  AN EARLY CHRISTIAN CEREMONY

  Next morning, at the earliest light of dawn, we rose, performed such ablutions as circumstances would allow, and made ourselves ready to start. I am bound to say that when there was sufficient light to enable us to see each other’s faces I, for one, was moved to laughter, for Job’s fat and comfortable countenance had swollen to nearly twice its natural size from mosquito bites, and Leo’s condition was not much better. Indeed, of the three I had come off the best, probably owing to the toughness of my dark skin, and to the fact that a good deal of it was covered by hair, for since we sailed from England I had allowed my naturally luxuriant beard to grow at its own will. But the other two were comparatively clean shaved, which of course afforded the enemy a larger extent of open country to explore, although in Mahomed’s case the mosquitoes, recognising the taste of a true believer, would not touch him at any price. How often, I wonder, during the next week or so did we wish that we were flavoured like an Arab!

  By the time that we had done laughing as heartily as our swollen lips would allow it was daylight, and the morning breeze, drawing up from the sea, cut lanes through the dense marsh mists, here and there rolling them before it in great balls of fleecy vapour. So we set our sail, and having carefully examined the two dead lions and the alligator, which we were of course unable to skin, being destitute of means of curing the pelts, we started, and, sailing through the lagoon, followed the course of the river on its further side. At midday, when the breeze dropped, we were fortunate enough to find a convenient spot of dry land on which to camp and light a fire, and here we cooked two wild-ducks and some of the waterbuck’s flesh—not in a very appetising way, it is true, but still sufficiently. The rest of the buck’s flesh we cut into strips and hung in the sun to dry into “biltong,” as, I believe, the South African Dutch call flesh thus prepared. On this welcome patch of dry land we stayed till the following dawn, as before, spending the night in warfare with the mosquitoes, but without other troubles. The next day or two passed in similar fashion, and without noticeable adventures, except that we shot a specimen of a peculiarly graceful hornless buck, and saw many varieties of water-lilies in full bloom, some of them blue and of exquisite beauty, though few of the flowers were perfect, owing to the presence of a white water-maggot with a green head that fed upon them.

  It was on the fifth day of our journey, when we had travelled, so far as we could reckon, about one hundred and thirty-five to a hundred and forty miles westwards from the coast, that the first event of any real importance occurred. On that morning the usual wind failed us about eleven o’clock, and after pulling a little way we were forced to halt, more or less exhausted, at what appeared to be the junction of our stream with another of a uniform width of about fifty feet. Some trees grew near at hand—the only trees in all this country were along the banks of the river—and under these we rested; then, the land being fairly dry just here, we walked a little way along the edge of the river to prospect, and shoot a few waterfowl for food. Before we had gone fifty yards we perceived that all hopes of pushing further up the stream in the whale-boat were at an end, for not two hundred yards above where we had landed we found a succession of shallows and mud-banks, with not six inches of water over them. It was a watery cul de sac.

  Turning back, we walked some way along the banks of the other river, and soon came to the conclusion, from various indications, that it was not a river at all, but an ancient canal, like the one which is to be seen above Mombasa, on the Zanzibar coast, connecting the Tana River with the Ozy, in such a way as to enable the shipping coming down the Tana to cross to the Ozy, and reach the sea by it, and thus avoid the very dangerous bar that blocks the mouth of the Tana. The canal before us evidently had been dug out by man at some remote period of the world’s history, and the results of his digging still remained in the shape of the raised banks that had no doubt once formed towing-paths. Except here and there, where they had been hollowed out by the water or fallen in, these banks of stiff binding clay were at a uniform distance from each other, and the depth of the stream also appeared to be uniform. Current there was little or none, and, as a consequence, the surface of the canal was choked with vegetable growth, intersected by little paths of clear water, made, I suppose, by the constant passage of waterfowl, iguanas, and other vermin. Now, as it was evident that we could not proceed up the river, it became equally evident that we must either try the canal or else return to the sea. We could not stop where we were, to be baked by the sun and eaten up by the mosquitoes, till we died of fever in that dreary marsh.

  “Well, I suppose that we must try it,” I said; and the others assented in their various ways—Leo, as though it were the best joke in the world; Job, in respectful disgust; and Mahomed, with an invocation to the Prophet, and a comprehensive curse upon all unbelievers and their ways of thought and travel.

  Accordingly, so soon as the sun sank low, having little or nothing more to hope for from our friendly wind, we started. For the first hour or so we managed to row the boat, though with great labour; but after that the weeds became too thick to allow of it, and we were obliged to resort to the primitive and most exhausting resource of towing her. For two hours we laboured, Mahomed, Job, and I, who was supposed to be strong enough to pull against the two of them, on the bank, while Leo sat in the bow of the boat, and brushed away the weeds which collected round the cutwater with Mahomed’s sword. At dark we halted for some hours to rest and enjoy the mosquitoes, but about midnight we went on again, taking advantage of the comparative cool of the night. At dawn we rested for three hours, then started once more, and laboured on till about ten o’clock, when a thunderstorm, accompanied by a deluge of rain, overtook us, and we spent the next six hours practically under water.

  I do not know that there is any necessity for me to describe the next four days of our voyage in detail, further than to say that they were, on the whole, the most miserable that I ever spent in my life, forming one monotonous record of heavy labour, heat, misery, and mosquitoes. All that dreary way we passed through a region of almost endless swamp, and I can only attribute our escape from fever and death to the constant doses of quinine and purgatives that we swallowed, and the unceasing toil which we were forced to undergo. On the third day of our journey up the canal we had sighted a round hill that loomed dimly through the vapours of the marsh, and on the evening of the fourth night, when we camped, this hill seemed to be within five-and-twenty or thirty miles of us.

  By now we were utterly exhausted, and felt as though our blistered hands could not pull the boat a yard farther, and that the best thing which we could do
would be to lie down to die in that dreadful wilderness of swamp. It was an awful position, and one in which I trust no other white men will often be placed; and as I threw myself down in the boat to sleep the sleep of utter exhaustion, bitterly I cursed my folly in having become a party to such a mad undertaking, which could, I saw, only end in our deaths in this ghastly land. I thought, I remember, as I slowly sank into a doze, of what the appearance of the boat and her unhappy crew would be in two or three months’ time from that night. There she would lie, with gaping seams and half filled with fœtid water, which, when the mist-laden wind stirred her, would wash backwards and forwards through our mouldering bones, and that must be the end of her, and of those in her who would follow after myths and seek out the secrets of Nature.

  Already I seemed to hear the water rippling against the desiccated bones, and rattling them together, rolling my skull against Mahomed’s, and his against mine, till at last the Arab’s stood straight upon its vertebræ, and, glaring at me through its empty eyeholes, cursed me with its grinning jaws because I, a dog of a Christian, disturbed the last sleep of a true believer. I opened my eyes, shuddering at the horrid dream, then shuddered again at something that was not a dream, for two great eyes were gazing at me through the misty darkness. I struggled to my feet, and in my terror and confusion shrieked, and shrieked again, so that the others sprang up too, reeling, and drunken with sleep and fear. Then all of a sudden there was a flash of cold steel, and a broad spear was held against my throat, and behind it other spears gleamed cruelly.

  “Peace,” said a voice, speaking in Arabic, or rather in some dialect into which Arabic entered very largely; “who are you that come hither swimming on the water? Speak, or ye die,” and the steel pressed sharply against my throat, sending a cold chill through me.

  “We are travellers, and have come hither by chance,” I answered in my best Arabic, which appeared to be understood, for the man turned his head, and, addressing a tall form that was visible in the background, said, “Father, shall we slay?”

  “What is the colour of the men?” asked a deep voice in answer.

  “White is their colour.”

  “Slay not,” was the reply. “Four suns since was the word brought to me from ‘She-who-must-be-obeyed,’ ‘White men come; if white men come, kill them not.’ Let them be brought to the house of ‘She-who-must-be-obeyed.’ Bring forth the men, and let that which they have with them be brought forth also.”

  “Come!” said the man, half leading and half dragging me from the boat, and as he did so I perceived others doing the same kind office to my companions.

  On the bank were gathered a company of some fifty men. In that light all I could discover was that they were armed with huge spears, were very tall, and strongly built, comparatively light in colour, and naked, save for a leopard skin tied round the middle.

  Presently Leo and Job were thrust forward and placed beside me.

  “What on earth is the matter?” asked Leo, rubbing his eyes.

  “Oh, Lord! sir, here’s a rum go,” ejaculated Job; and just at that moment a disturbance ensued, and Mahomed tumbled between us, followed by a shadowy form with an uplifted spear.

  “Allah! Allah!” howled Mahomed, feeling that he had little to hope from man, “protect me! protect me!”

  “Father, it is a black one,” said a voice. “What was the word of ‘She-who-must-be-obeyed’ about the black one?”

  “She said no word of him; but slay him not. Come hither, my son.”

  The man advanced, and the tall shadowy form bent forward and whispered something.

  “Yes, yes,” answered the other, and chuckled in a rather bloodcurdling tone.

  “Are the three white men there?” asked the form.

  “Yes, they are there.”

  “Then bring up that which is made ready for them, and take with you all that can be brought from the thing which floats.”

  Hardly had he spoken when men advanced, carrying on their shoulders several covered palanquins, each borne by four bearers and two spare men, into which it was indicated that we were expected to mount.

  “Well!” said Leo, “it is a blessing to find anybody to carry us after having to carry ourselves so long.”

  Leo always takes a cheerful view of things.

  As there was no help for it, after seeing the others into theirs I climbed into my own litter, and very comfortable I found it. It appeared to be manufactured of cloth woven from grass-fibre, which stretched and yielded to every motion of the body, and, being bound top and bottom to the bearing-pole, gave a grateful support to the head and neck.

  Scarcely had I settled myself when, accompanying their steps with a monotonous song, the bearers started at a swinging trot. For half an hour or so I lay still, reflecting on the very remarkable experiences that we were going through, and wondering whether any of my eminently respectable fossil friends at Cambridge would believe me if I were miraculously to be set at the familiar dinner-table for the purpose of relating them. I do not wish to convey any imputation or slight when I call those good and learned men fossils, but my experience is that people are apt to petrify, even at a University, if they follow the same paths too persistently. I was becoming fossilised myself, but of late my stock of ideas has been very much enlarged. Well, I lay and reflected, and wondered what on earth would be the end of it all, till at last I ceased to wonder, and went to sleep.

  I suppose I must have slept for seven or eight hours, taking the first real rest that I had won since the night before the loss of the dhow, for when I woke the sun was high in the heavens. We were still journeying on at a pace of about four miles an hour. Peeping out through the thin curtains of the litter, which were fixed ingeniously to the bearing-pole, I perceived, to my infinite relief, that we had passed out of the region of eternal swamp, and were now travelling over swelling grassy plains towards a cup-shaped hill. Whether or not it was the same hill that we had seen from the canal I do not know, and have never since been able to discover, for, as we learned afterwards, these people will give little information upon such points. Next I glanced at the men who were bearing me. They were of a magnificent build, few of them being under six feet in height, and yellowish in colour. Generally their appearance had a good deal in common with that of the East African Somali, only their hair was not frizzed up, but hung in thick black locks upon their shoulders. Their features were aquiline, and in many cases exceedingly handsome, the teeth being especially regular and beautiful. But notwithstanding their beauty, it struck me that, on the whole, I had never seen more evil faces. There was an aspect of cold and sullen cruelty stamped upon them that revolted me, which, indeed, in some cases was almost uncanny in its intensity.

  Another thing which I noticed about them was that they never seemed to smile. Sometimes they sang the monotonous song whereof I have spoken, but when they were not singing they remained almost perfectly silent, and the light of a laugh never came to brighten their sombre and wicked countenances. Of what race could these people be? Their language was a bastard Arabic, and yet they were not Arabs; I was quite sure of that. For one thing they were too dark, or rather yellow. I could not say why, but I know that their appearance filled me with a sick fear of which I felt ashamed. While I was still wondering another litter ranged alongside of mine. In it—for the curtains were drawn—sat an old man, clothed in a whitish robe, made, apparently, from coarse linen, that hung loosely about him, who, as I at once concluded, was the shadowy figure that had stood on the bank and been addressed as “Father.” He was a wonderful-looking old man, with a snowy beard, so long that the ends of it hung over the sides of the litter, and he had a hooked nose, above which flashed a pair of eyes as keen as a snake’s, while his whole countenance was instinct with a look of wise and sardonic humour impossible to describe on paper.

  “Art thou awake, stranger?” he said in a deep and low voice.

  “Surely, my father,” I answered courteously, feeling certain that I should do well to concili
ate this ancient Mammon of Unrighteousness.

  He stroked his beautiful white beard, and smiled faintly.

  “From whatever country thou wanderest,” he said, “and by the way it must be from one where somewhat of our language is known, they teach their children courtesy there, my stranger son. And now, wherefore comest thou unto this land, which scarce an alien foot has pressed from the time that man knoweth? Art thou and are those with thee weary of life?”

  “We came to find new things,” I answered boldly. “We are tired of the old things; we have risen up out of the sea to know that which is unknown. We are of a brave race who fear not death, my very much respected father—that is, if we can win a little fresh information before we die.”

  “Humph!” said the old gentleman, “that may be true; it is rash to contradict, otherwise I should declare that thou wast lying, my son. However, I dare to say that ‘She-who-must-be-obeyed’ will meet thy wishes in the matter.”

  “Who is ‘She-who-must-be-obeyed’?” I asked, curiously.

  The old man glanced at the bearers, and then answered, with a little smile that somehow sent my blood to my heart—

  “Surely, my stranger son, thou wilt learn soon enough, if it be her pleasure to see thee at all in the flesh.”

  “In the flesh?” I answered. “What may my father wish to convey?”

  But the old man only laughed a dreadful laugh, and made no reply.

  “What is the name of my father’s people?” I asked.

  “The name of my people is Amahagger, the People of the Rocks.”

  “And if a son might ask, what is the name of my father?”

  “My name is Billali.”

  “And whither go we, my father?”