Page 6 of She


  V

  THE HEAD OF THE ETHIOPIAN

  At length the heralds and forerunners of the royal sun had done theirwork, and, searching out the shadows, had caused them to flee away.Then up he came in glory from his ocean-bed, and flooded the earthwith warmth and light. I sat there in the boat listening to the gentlelapping of the water and watched him rise, till presently the slightdrift of the boat brought the odd-shaped rock, or peak, at the end ofthe promontory which we had weathered with so much peril, between meand the majestic sight, and blotted it from my view. I still continued,however, to stare at the rock, absently enough, till presently it becameedged with the fire of the growing light behind it, and then I started,as well I might, for I perceived that the top of the peak, which wasabout eighty feet high by one hundred and fifty feet thick at its base,was shaped like a negro's head and face, whereon was stamped a mostfiendish and terrifying expression. There was no doubt about it; therewere the thick lips, the fat cheeks, and the squat nose standing outwith startling clearness against the flaming background. There, too, wasthe round skull, washed into shape perhaps by thousands of years ofwind and weather, and, to complete the resemblance, there was a scrubbygrowth of weeds or lichen upon it, which against the sun looked for allthe world like the wool on a colossal negro's head. It certainly wasvery odd; so odd that now I believe it is not a mere freak of nature buta gigantic monument fashioned, like the well-known Egyptian Sphinx, by aforgotten people out of a pile of rock that lent itself to theirdesign, perhaps as an emblem of warning and defiance to any enemies whoapproached the harbour. Unfortunately we were never able to ascertainwhether or not this was the case, inasmuch as the rock was difficult ofaccess both from the land and the waterside, and we had other thingsto attend to. Myself, considering the matter by the light of what weafterwards saw, I believe that it was fashioned by man, but whether ornot this is so, there it stands, and sullenly stares from age to age outacross the changing sea--there it stood two thousand years and moreago, when Amenartas, the Egyptian princess, and the wife of Leo's remoteancestor Kallikrates, gazed upon its devilish face--and there I have nodoubt it will still stand when as many centuries as are numbered betweenher day and our own are added to the year that bore us to oblivion.

  "What do you think of that, Job?" I asked of our retainer, who wassitting on the edge of the boat, trying to get as much sunshine aspossible, and generally looking uncommonly wretched, and I pointed tothe fiery and demonical head.

  "Oh Lord, sir," answered Job, who now perceived the object for the firsttime, "I think that the old geneleman must have been sitting for hisportrait on them rocks."

  I laughed, and the laugh woke up Leo.

  "Hullo," he said, "what's the matter with me? I am all stiff--where isthe dhow? Give me some brandy, please."

  "You may be thankful that you are not stiffer, my boy," I answered. "Thedhow is sunk, everybody on board her is drowned with the exception ofus four, and your own life was only saved by a miracle"; and whilst Job,now that it was light enough, searched about in a locker for the brandyfor which Leo asked, I told him the history of our night's adventure.

  "Great Heavens!" he said faintly; "and to think that we should have beenchosen to live through it!"

  By this time the brandy was forthcoming, and we all had a good pull atit, and thankful enough we were for it. Also the sun was beginning toget strength, and warm our chilled bones, for we had been wet throughfor five hours or more.

  "Why," said Leo, with a gasp as he put down the brandy bottle, "thereis the head the writing talks of, the 'rock carven like the head of anEthiopian.'"

  "Yes," I said, "there it is."

  "Well, then," he answered, "the whole thing is true."

  "I don't see at all that that follows," I answered. "We knew this headwas here: your father saw it. Very likely it is not the same head thatthe writing talks of; or if it is, it proves nothing."

  Leo smiled at me in a superior way. "You are an unbelieving Jew, UncleHorace," he said. "Those who live will see."

  "Exactly so," I answered, "and now perhaps you will observe that we aredrifting across a sandbank into the mouth of the river. Get hold of youroar, Job, and we will row in and see if we can find a place to land."

  The river mouth which we were entering did not appear to be a very wideone, though as yet the long banks of steaming mist that clung aboutits shores had not lifted sufficiently to enable us to see its exactmeasure. There was, as is the case with nearly every East African river,a considerable bar at the mouth, which, no doubt, when the wind was onshore and the tide running out, was absolutely impassable even for aboat drawing only a few inches. But as things were it was manageableenough, and we did not ship a cupful of water. In twenty minutes we werewell across it, with but slight assistance from ourselves, and beingcarried by a strong though somewhat variable breeze well up the harbour.By this time the mist was being sucked up by the sun, which was gettinguncomfortably hot, and we saw that the mouth of the little estuary washere about half a mile across, and that the banks were very marshy, andcrowded with crocodiles lying about on the mud like logs. About a mileahead of us, however, was what appeared to be a strip of firm land, andfor this we steered. In another quarter of an hour we were there, andmaking the boat fast to a beautiful tree with broad shining leaves, andflowers of the magnolia species, only they were rose-coloured andnot white,[*] which hung over the water, we disembarked. This done weundressed, washed ourselves, and spread our clothes, together with thecontents of the boat, in the sun to dry, which they very quickly did.Then, taking shelter from the sun under some trees, we made a heartybreakfast off a "Paysandu" potted tongue, of which we had brought a goodquantity with us, congratulating ourselves loudly on our good fortunein having loaded and provisioned the boat on the previous day before thehurricane destroyed the dhow. By the time that we had finished our mealour clothes were quite dry, and we hastened to get into them, feelingnot a little refreshed. Indeed, with the exception of weariness anda few bruises, none of us were the worse for the terrifying adventurewhich had been fatal to all our companions. Leo, it is true, had beenhalf-drowned, but that is no great matter to a vigorous young athlete offive-and-twenty.

  [*] There is a known species of magnolia with pink flowers. It is indigenous in Sikkim, and known as _Magnolia Campbellii_.--Editor.

  After breakfast we started to look about us. We were on a strip of dryland about two hundred yards broad by five hundred long, bordered on oneside by the river, and on the other three by endless desolate swamps,that stretched as far as the eye could reach. This strip of land wasraised about twenty-five feet above the plain of the surrounding swampsand the river level: indeed it had every appearance of having been madeby the hand of man.

  "This place has been a wharf," said Leo, dogmatically.

  "Nonsense," I answered. "Who would be stupid enough to build a wharfin the middle of these dreadful marshes in a country inhabited bysavages--that is, if it is inhabited at all?"

  "Perhaps it was not always marsh, and perhaps the people were notalways savage," he said drily, looking down the steep bank, for we werestanding by the river. "Look there," he went on, pointing to a spotwhere the hurricane of the previous night had torn up one of themagnolia trees by the roots, which had grown on the extreme edge of thebank just where it sloped down to the water, and lifted a large cake ofearth with them. "Is not that stonework? If not, it is very like it."

  "Nonsense," I said again, but we clambered down to the spot, and gotbetween the upturned roots and the bank.

  "Well?" he said.

  But I did not answer this time. I only whistled. For there, laid bare bythe removal of the earth, was an undoubted facing of solid stone laid inlarge blocks and bound together with brown cement, so hard that I couldmake no impression on it with the file in my shooting-knife. Nor wasthis all; seeing something projecting through the soil at the bottom ofthe bared patch of walling, I removed the loose earth with my hands, andrevealed a huge stone ring, a foot or more in d
iameter, and about threeinches thick. This fairly staggered me.

  "Looks rather like a wharf where good-sized vessels have been moored,does it not, Uncle Horace?" said Leo, with an excited grin.

  I tried to say "Nonsense" again, but the word stuck in my throat--thering spoke for itself. In some past age vessels _had_ been moored there,and this stone wall was undoubtedly the remnant of a solidly constructedwharf. Probably the city to which it had belonged lay buried beneath theswamp behind it.

  "Begins to look as though there were something in the story after all,Uncle Horace," said the exultant Leo; and reflecting on the mysteriousnegro's head and the equally mysterious stonework, I made no directreply.

  "A country like Africa," I said, "is sure to be full of the relicsof long dead and forgotten civilisations. Nobody knows the age of theEgyptian civilisation, and very likely it had offshoots. Then there werethe Babylonians and the Phœnicians, and the Persians, and all mannerof people, all more or less civilised, to say nothing of the Jews whomeverybody 'wants' nowadays. It is possible that they, or any one ofthem, may have had colonies or trading stations about here. Rememberthose buried Persian cities that the consul showed us at Kilwa."[*]

  [*] Near Kilwa, on the East Coast of Africa, about 400 miles south ofZanzibar, is a cliff which has been recently washed by the waves. On thetop of this cliff are Persian tombs known to be at least seven centuriesold by the dates still legible upon them. Beneath these tombs is a layerof _débris_ representing a city. Farther down the cliff is a secondlayer 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 glazedearthenware, such as are occasionally to be met with on that coast tothis day. I believe that they are now in the possession of Sir JohnKirk.--Editor.

  "Quite so," said Leo, "but that is not what you said before."

  "Well, what is to be done now?" I asked, turning the conversation.

  As no answer was forthcoming we walked to the edge of the swamp, andlooked over it. It was apparently boundless, and vast flocks ofevery sort of waterfowl flew from its recesses, till it was sometimesdifficult to see the sky. Now that the sun was getting high it drew thinsickly looking clouds of poisonous vapour from the surface of the marshand from the scummy pools of stagnant water.

  "Two things are clear to me," I said, addressing my three companions,who stared at this spectacle in dismay: "first, that we can't go acrossthere" (I pointed to the swamp), "and, secondly, that if we stop here weshall certainly die of fever."

  "That's as clear as a haystack, sir," said Job.

  "Very well, then; there are two alternatives before us. One is to 'boutship, and try and run for some port in the whale-boat, which would bea sufficiently risky proceeding, and the other to sail or row on up theriver, and see where we come to."

  "I don't know what you are going to do," said Leo, setting his mouth,"but I am going up that river."

  Job turned up the whites of his eyes and groaned, and the Arab murmured"Allah," and groaned also. As for me, I remarked sweetly that as weseemed to be between the devil and the deep sea, it did not much matterwhere we went. But in reality I was as anxious to proceed as Leo. Thecolossal negro's head and the stone wharf had excited my curiosity to anextent of which I was secretly ashamed, and I was prepared to gratify itat any cost. Accordingly, having carefully fitted the mast, restowedthe boat, and got out our rifles, we embarked. Fortunately the windwas blowing on shore from the ocean, so we were able to hoist the sail.Indeed, we afterwards found out that as a general rule the wind set onshore from daybreak for some hours, and off shore again at sunset, andthe explanation that I offer of this is, that when the earth is cooledby the dew and the night the hot air rises, and the draught rushes infrom the sea till the sun has once more heated it through. At least thatappeared to be the rule here.

  Taking advantage of this favouring wind, we sailed merrily up the riverfor three or four hours. Once we came across a school of hippopotami,which rose, and bellowed dreadfully at us within ten or a dozen fathomsof the boat, much to Job's alarm, and, I will confess, to my own. Thesewere the first hippopotami that we had ever seen, and, to judge by theirinsatiable curiosity, I should judge that we were the first white menthat they had ever seen. Upon my word, I once or twice thought that theywere coming into the boat to gratify it. Leo wanted to fire at them,but I dissuaded him, fearing the consequences. Also, we saw hundreds ofcrocodiles basking on the muddy banks, and thousands upon thousandsof water-fowl. Some of these we shot, and among them was a wild goose,which, in addition to the sharp-curved spurs on its wings, had a spurabout three-quarters of an inch long growing from the skull just betweenthe eyes. We never shot another like it, so I do not know if it wasa "sport" or a distinct species. In the latter case this incident mayinterest naturalists. Job named it the Unicorn Goose.

  About midday the sun grew intensely hot, and the stench drawn up by itfrom the marshes which the river drains was something too awful, andcaused us instantly to swallow precautionary doses of quinine. Shortlyafterwards the breeze died away altogether, and as rowing our heavy boatagainst stream in the heat was out of the question, we were thankfulenough to get under the shade of a group of trees--a species ofwillow--that grew by the edge of the river, and lie there and gasp tillat length the approach of sunset put a period to our miseries. Seeingwhat appeared to be an open space of water straight ahead of us, wedetermined to row there before settling what to do for the night. Justas we were about to loosen the boat, however, a beautiful waterbuck,with great horns curving forward, and a white stripe across the rump,came down to the river to drink, without perceiving us hidden awaywithin fifty yards under the willows. Leo was the first to catch sightof it, and, being an ardent sportsman, thirsting for the blood ofbig game, about which he had been dreaming for months, he instantlystiffened all over, and pointed like a setter dog. Seeing what was thematter, I handed him his express rifle, at the same time taking my own.

  "Now then," I whispered, "mind you don't miss."

  "Miss!" he whispered back contemptuously; "I could not miss it if Itried."

  He lifted the rifle, and the roan-coloured buck, having drunk his fill,raised his head and looked out across the river. He was standing rightagainst the sunset sky on a little eminence, or ridge of ground, whichran across the swamp, evidently a favourite path for game, and therewas something very beautiful about him. Indeed, I do not think that ifI live to a hundred I shall ever forget that desolate and yet mostfascinating scene; it is stamped upon my memory. To the right andleft were wide stretches of lonely death-breeding swamp, unbroken andunrelieved so far as the eye could reach, except here and there by pondsof black and peaty water that, mirror-like, flashed up the red raysof the setting sun. Behind us and before stretched the vista of thesluggish river, ending in glimpses of a reed-fringed lagoon, on thesurface of which the long lights of the evening played as the faintbreeze stirred the shadows. To the west loomed the huge red ball of thesinking sun, now vanishing down the vapoury horizon, and filling thegreat heaven, high across whose arch the cranes and wildfowl streamedin line, square, and triangle, with flashes of flying gold and the luridstain of blood. And then ourselves--three modern Englishmen in amodern English boat--seeming to jar upon and look out of tone with thatmeasureless desolation; and in front of us the noble buck limned outupon a background of ruddy sky.

  _Bang!_ Away he goes with a mighty bound. Leo has missed him. _Bang!_right under him again. Now for a shot. I must have one, though he isgoing like an arrow, and a hundred yards away and more. By Jove! overand over and over! "Well, I think I've wiped your eye there, MasterLeo," I say, struggling against the ungenerous exultation that in sucha supreme moment of one's existence will rise in the best-manneredsportsman's breast.

  "Confound you, yes," growled Leo; and then, with that quick smile thatis one of his charms lighting up his handsome face like a ray of light,"I beg your pardon, old fellow. I congratulate you; it was a
lovelyshot, and mine were vile."

  We got out of the boat and ran to the buck, which was shot through thespine and stone dead. It took us a quarter of an hour or more to cleanit and cut off as much of the best meat as we could carry, and,having packed this away, we had barely light enough to row up into thelagoon-like space, into which, there being a hollow in the swamp, theriver here expanded. Just as the light vanished we cast anchor aboutthirty fathoms from the edge of the lake. We did not dare to go ashore,not knowing if we should find dry ground to camp on, and greatly fearingthe poisonous exhalations from the marsh, from which we thought weshould be freer on the water. So we lighted a lantern, and made ourevening meal off another potted tongue in the best fashion that wecould, and then prepared to go to sleep, only, however, to find thatsleep was impossible. For, whether they were attracted by the lantern,or by the unaccustomed smell of a white man for which they had beenwaiting for the last thousand years or so, I know not; but certainly wewere presently attacked by tens of thousands of the most blood-thirsty,pertinacious, and huge mosquitoes that I ever saw or read of. In cloudsthey came, and pinged and buzzed and bit till we were nearly mad.Tobacco smoke only seemed to stir them into a merrier and more activelife, till at length we were driven to covering ourselves with blankets,head and all, and sitting to slowly stew and continually scratch andswear beneath them. And as we sat, suddenly rolling out like thunderthrough the silence came the deep roar of a lion, and then of a secondlion, moving among the reeds within sixty yards of us.

  "I say," said Leo, sticking his head out from under his blanket, "luckywe ain't on the bank, eh, Avuncular?" (Leo sometimes addressed me inthis disrespectful way.) "Curse it! a mosquito has bitten me on thenose," and the head vanished again.

  Shortly after this the moon came up, and notwithstanding every varietyof roar that echoed over the water to us from the lions on the banks, webegan, thinking ourselves perfectly secure, to gradually doze off.

  I do not quite know what it was that made me poke my head out of thefriendly shelter of the blanket, perhaps because I found that themosquitoes were biting right through it. Anyhow, as I did so I heard Jobwhisper, in a frightened voice--

  "Oh, my stars, look there!"

  Instantly we all of us looked, and this was what we saw in themoonlight. Near the shore were two wide and ever-widening circles ofconcentric rings rippling away across the surface of the water, and inthe heart and centre of the circles were two dark moving objects.

  "What is it?" asked I.

  "It is those damned lions, sir," answered Job, in a tone which wasan odd mixture of a sense of personal injury, habitual respect, andacknowledged fear, "and they are swimming here to _heat_ us," he added,nervously picking up an "h" in his agitation.

  I looked again: there was no doubt about it; I could catch the glare oftheir ferocious eyes. Attracted either by the smell of the newly killedwaterbuck meat or of ourselves, the hungry beasts were actually stormingour position.

  Leo already had his rifle in his hand. I called to him to wait till theywere nearer, and meanwhile grabbed my own. Some fifteen feet from usthe water shallowed on a bank to the depth of about fifteen inches, andpresently the first of them--it was the lioness--got on to it, shookherself, and roared. At that moment Leo fired, the bullet went rightdown her open mouth and out at the back of her neck, and down shedropped, with a splash, dead. The other lion--a full-grown male--wassome two paces behind her. At this second he got his forepaws on to thebank, when a strange thing happened. There was a rush and disturbanceof the water, such as one sees in a pond in England when a pike takes alittle fish, only a thousand times fiercer and larger, and suddenly thelion gave a most terrific snarling roar and sprang forward on to thebank, dragging something black with him.

  "Allah!" shouted Mahomed, "a crocodile has got him by the leg!" and sureenough he had. We could see the long snout with its gleaming lines ofteeth and the reptile body behind it.

  And then followed an extraordinary scene indeed. The lion managed toget well on to the bank, the crocodile half standing and half swimming,still nipping his hind leg. He roared till the air quivered with thesound, and then, with a savage, shrieking snarl, turned round and clawedhold of the crocodile's head. The crocodile shifted his grip, having,as we afterwards discovered, had one of his eyes torn out, and slightlyturned over; instantly the lion got him by the throat and held on, andthen over and over they rolled upon the bank struggling hideously. Itwas impossible to follow their movements, but when next we got a clearview the tables had turned, for the crocodile, whose head seemed to bea mass of gore, had got the lion's body in his iron jaws just above thehips, and was squeezing him and shaking him to and fro. For his part,the tortured brute, roaring in agony, was clawing and biting madlyat his enemy's scaly head, and fixing his great hind claws in thecrocodile's, comparatively speaking, soft throat, ripping it open as onewould rip a glove.

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

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

  When it was all over, leaving Mahomed to keep a look out, we managed tospend the rest of the night as quietly as the mosquitoes would allow.