Produced by Douglas Ethington

A PARISIAN SULTANA

A TRANSLATION OF
ADOLPHE BELOT'S
"La Sultane parisienne"
BY
H. MAINWARING DUNSTAN.

BOOK III. VENUS IN EBONY.

CHAPTER I.

It will not, we trust, have been forgotten that in the month of March, 1873, the Count de Pommerelle paid a visit to Dr. Desrioux, whom he found bowed down with grief, in consequence of the death of his mother. To his affection for her the young doctor had sacrificed his love for Madame de Guéran, his plans for accompanying her in her travels, and his most cherished hopes. In this state of almost despair he had begged M. de Pommerelle to take him away anywhere out of Paris.

The two friends met again at the funeral of Madame Desrioux. Prom the house of death they proceeded to the church, and thence to Père La Chaise. The Count at first considerately mingled with the crowd of relations and friends who had assembled to show the Doctor their sympathy with him in his distress. But as soon as the mournful ceremony was over, and the concourse of people had taken their departure, some in mourning coaches, and others down the long avenues of the cemetery, M. de Pommerelle resumed his place at his friend's side, to which he was entitled by his daily association with the Doctor, by their ties of friendship, drawn closer and closer during the few past months, and by the words which had passed between them on the previous evening.

"By virtue of the powers you have yourself given me, I take possession of you," said the Count.

And, acting up to his words, he put his arm in that of M. Desrioux, and drew his grief-stricken friend away. At the gate of the cemetery they found a brougham in waiting, which, after half an hour's drive, deposited them in front of a small hotel in the Avenue Montaigne.

M. Desrioux alighted from the vehicle mechanically, ascended the steps, and, with his friend and host, entered a room on the ground floor. He appeared quite unconscious of how he had reached the hotel, or what he was doing. It was almost as if his mind, clinging to its former companionship with his mother, had sought a voluntary grave by her side, and as if his spirit had ascended to heaven with hers.

The Count felt bound to make an attempt to rouse him from this state of stupor and mental lethargy, this physical and intellectual prostration, which not unfrequently follows upon excessive fatigue and prolonged experiences of sorrow. Placing himself right in front of M. Desrioux, and compelling the latter to look up, he said—

"You have fulfilled to the utmost every duty, both as a son and a physician. You have fought against death, and have been worsted in the fight. Now, what do you intend doing?"

M. Desrioux looked at him at first without taking in the sense of his words, but, on the question being repeated, he exclaimed—

"What am I going to do? I know not—I know not."

"But I do," said the Count, decidedly. "You are going to rejoin her whom, after your mother, you loved best in the world, by whose side, even if you cannot altogether forget the past, you will at all events suffer less acutely. You are going to set out for Africa, and endeavour to rejoin Madame de Guéran."

"No, no I do not let us speak of her now," exclaimed M. Desrioux, "I have no right to talk about her. I must devote myself to the memory of my mother. All my thoughts belong to her, and I cannot turn to any one else."

"Was not Madame de Guéran a favourite with your mother?" asked the
Count.

"Oh! yes, a very great favourite."

"Then," replied M. de Pommerelle, "what wrong can there be in your devoting yourself to one who was dear to her whom you have lost? It is a homage to the dead to think of all they loved here below. And have you not also told me that Madame Desrioux regretted your having remained with her in Paris, and your refusal to accompany Madame de Guéran?"

"Yes, in her thorough unselfishness and self-denial she did her best to induce me to go, and was never tired of urging me. 'Go, my dear boy,' she would say, 'go with that charming woman. I am not jealous, I love her as a daughter. I will take care of myself during your absence, I will not be guilty of any imprudence, but will watch over myself for your sake. You will find me on your return, sitting by the window in my arm chair, waiting for you, and ready to welcome you back with a smile and a kiss.' I did well," continued M. Desrioux, "not to listen to her. I should not have seen her again, and she would have looked for me at her bedside in vain. Her latest moments, soothed, perhaps, by my presence, would have been sad indeed had I been away."

"Be it so. You did well, I admit, to remain, but now you will be doing equally well to go away, because in that lies your only means of assuaging your grief. As a matter of fact, the idea was your own— did you not entreat me to take you away, far away?"

"Yes, that is true; and, possibly, with you, and giving myself up entirely to your guidance, I might carry out the idea, but I have not the courage, at all events now, to tear myself away from the spots hallowed by her memory, and the tomb in which we have but just laid her."

"Who said anything about your going alone?" asked M. de Pommerelle,
"What makes you think that I intend to give you up?"

"Do you mean to say," said the Doctor, in astonishment, "that you would go to Africa—you?"

"Yes, I—I will go to Africa. When one has been as far as Monaco, as I have been, one is capable of anything. Besides, did we not make up our minds to go, only our plans were nipped in the bud?"

"We certainly did map out a journey one evening, in a fit of passing excitement, but on the following morning we came to our senses, and released each other from the engagement."

"Say rather, my dear fellow, that you released yourself."

"That is true. But, tell me frankly—if I had started would you have come with me?"

"No, I would not, because for certain reasons, less weighty than yours, but serious enough from my point of view, I was compelled to remain where I was. These reasons have disappeared, and with them have vanished all my man-about-town proclivities, as well as that dislike to travelling which I have so often assumed for the simple purpose of deceiving myself, and endeavouring to hide the heavy clogs and chains which held me fast, like a convict, in Paris. I will not do your sorrow the injustice of comparing it to the annoyance I have just undergone, but you have already experienced your severest shock; if you are destined still to suffer much, you will, at least, admit that you are not in any danger; neither your future nor your honour are menaced. My annoyance, on the contrary, is mingled with serious fears; I dread giving way to a ridiculous temptation, and committing an act of downright folly—in short, for I have no secrets from you, I am afraid of committing matrimony with a charming, but decidedly ineligible woman. Let us be off, then, as soon as ever we can; you, to distract your mind from its sorrow, and I, to run away from my own cowardice, and escape from what would almost amount to dishonour. Let us be off, I say again, in both our interests. I will take you to the woman you love, and who is worthy of your love; you will take me from the one I hate, and love, and, above all, fear. It is not one bit too much to put France, the Mediterranean, and the greater portion of Africa between her and me, for by so doing I shall be putting away from myself all possibility of return or cowardice. I know that I shall, perhaps, lose my life where we are going, but that is very little in comparison with what I should certainly lose here. Africa, however cruel she may be, will have some consideration for me, and that is precisely what the fair lady in question has not. I prefer being physically eaten by the Niam-Niam to being morally devoured by that she-cannibal of the Boulevard Haussman. In a word, my dear fellow, just as a reformed rake, they say, makes a model husband, so a sedentary being like myself becomes, the very moment he turns wanderer, capable of any eccentricity, gives himself up to every extravagance, thinks no journey formidable enough, and would scale the moon, if she had not been for a considerable period placed out of reach of dilatory, and, for that, very reason, over bold travellers like your humble servant."

M. de Pommerelle stopped at last, and waited to see the effect of his long harangue.

M. Desrioux reflected for a moment or two, and then, holding out his hand, he said—

"When shall we start?"

"When you like," replied the Count, "the sooner the better for you, for me, and for our friends, too, in case they should be in danger and need our assistance."

"I agree with you, but we must make some preparations."

"We can do all that in Africa, at the port of disembarkation. If we take money, and plenty of it, we shall be able to smooth away every difficulty. Remember how Stanley, who was not at the time dreaming of Livingstone, made up his mind in twenty-four hours to join him. Let us show the Americans that, on occasion, we can be quite as expeditious and determined as they are."

"Very well. Only, it is not enough merely to go to Africa; we must go there to some purpose. What is to be our starting-point? Shall we follow the route taken by our friends?"

"That is just what we must avoid," replied M. de Pommerelle. "It would be the very way never to find them, seeing that they have six months' start of us. In their last letter, you will remember, they said, 'If instead of having received our information about M. de Guéran at Khartoum, we could have been furnished with it in France, our plan of action would have been altered considerably. In fact, if M. de Guéran has managed to cross the frontier of the Monbuttoos, we are destined simply to follow up his tracks without any chance of overtaking him. On the other hand, by setting foot in Africa at Zanzibar, and taking a north-westerly direction towards the Lakes Victoria and Albert, we should have undoubtedly met him, as he was travelling from a precisely opposite point. If we could start afresh, we should start from Zanzibar.' So, you see, we shall do what our friends could not, and we shall profit by their experience. Their argument about M. de Guéran is equally applicable to themselves, because they have adopted the same route that he did. At Cairo, at Khartoum, in the district watered by the White Nile and the Bahr-el-Gazal, they have been seen, but nobody would be able to tell us what has become of them. To all our questions we could get but one reply. They were going towards the south-east—and we know that already from their letters. At Zanzibar, on the contrary, we shall either find them ready to embark on their return to Europe, or, if they are not there, we can set out to meet them."

"Your reasoning is good," said M. Desrioux, "and I agree to your plan."

"Do you agree, also, to my making the necessary arrangements for our very speedy departure?"

"Certainly. I give you full power."

"Then I shall engage a couple of berths on board the first steamer leaving for the Indian ocean. I have travelled along the map with you so frequently during the last six months that I know exactly what to do."

CHAPTER II.

Whilst the two friends, Dr. Desrioux and the Count de Pommerelle, were getting ready to set out for equatorial Africa, the European caravan, whose course we have followed up to now, escorted by the army of Munza, King of the Monbuttoos, was making its onward way through unknown tribes, in districts marked on the map by these words—unexplored regions. We resume the journal of the expedition, edited by M. Périères.

"To think that we should ever have complained of the slow progress of our caravan! We used to do our four or five leagues a day, and we even managed to get over from five to six when the country was open; now with Munza's army we scarcely move more than six or eight miles (English) in the twenty-four hours. We are, it is true, in the midst of innumerable water-courses, which, by their entwinings, form a net-work similar to that met with by Livingstone in other parts of Africa, and compared by him to the patterns formed by the frost on a window-pane.

The rainy season, now on the point of coming to an end, appears desirous of leaving behind it lingering memorials of its stay in the provinces of the equator it converts plains into marshes and makes every stream a river. For quite half our time we do not walk, we dabble. If we were to meet with a regular river, like the Gadda, for instance, a whole morning would be taken up in transporting the army from one bank to the other. There is, nevertheless, no lack of boatmen, numbers of them having joined us by Munza's order, and placed at our disposal not only their canoes, but also enormous trees, felled on the bank, and forming a raft or a floating bridge according to circumstances.

When it comes to making our way through a forest, our delays are even greater, an afternoon being frequently consumed in marching a league. The men are obliged to hew a passage with their axes through the dense thickets, destitute of even a track, for nature in a very few days conceals those which may from time to time be made. And yet, notwithstanding the difficulties which spring up without intermission when crossing these almost virgin forests, and in spite of the humid heat which is so oppressive underneath their leafy vaults, it is impossible to resist the temptation, every now and then, to stop and gaze around in admiration. The continuous showers have succeeded in making their way at last through the overhanging foliage and the interlacing creepers, and everywhere flowers of every sort are in full bloom. Here the Ashantee pepper tree, with its coral berries, completely encircles the trunks of the trees; there are garlands, rich festoons, clusters of flowers of a brilliant scarlet, and bell-flowers of bright orange, all sparkling in the darkness of the undergrowth, and apparently specially destined to give light to these profound solitudes wherein is an unending night.

As it is a matter of considerable difficulty to maintain a close surveillance over Munza's army or to preserve strict discipline on the march through this labyrinth, the men take advantage of the position to stray away amongst the least bushy thickets and, ever mindful of their appetites, to hunt everything, eatable and uneatable. One band of twenty or thirty men will make an attack on the chimpanzees, the usual denizens of these forests; another lays siege with burning torches to a beehive, and swallows with equal greed the wax and the honey, and the insects which produce them. Here and there a solitary soldier will stumble across a regular town of ant-hills, from ten to twelve feet high, and, making a raid on the insects, crushes them in his hands, and eats them up.

In the villages our task is still more difficult, owing to the gross immorality which prevails throughout the kingdom of Munza, but, nevertheless, by dint of continually struggling against the powers of nature and the passions of man, we contrive to traverse the tract which separates us from the district governed by Degberra, and encounter that chief on his way to meet us.

Though Munza has preserved an absolute silence as regards his brother, Nassar, some time ago, drew for us a gloomy enough portrait of this ruler. To begin with, Degberra is a parricide, neither more nor less. His father lived too long for him, and became a bore; so he had him assassinated. But this crime, intended as a stepping stone to the Monbuttoo throne, was of advantage to Munza alone, who lost no time is assuming the crown, and made his brother merely his lieutenant or viceroy.

We are led to suppose that our host and friend is ignorant of the murder, from the circumstance that, since he has been secure on the throne, he does not appear to have thought of getting rid of his brother. A parricide would scarcely falter on his amiable way, and would not have recoiled, from excess of sensitiveness, before a convenient act of fratricide, almost marked out for him. It is quite possible, however, that Munza's conduct furnishes another instance of his tact; if he did not put Degberra out of the way, he took very good care to make him innocuous. Knowing that his brother was a slave to his passions, he furnished his harem with the prettiest women in the kingdom, and Degberra forgot politics in sensuality. He is now, consequently, an effeminate, listless being, incapable of revolting against his sovereign, who, also, is a source of constant terror to him.

The meeting of the two brothers was utterly devoid of sentiment, and took place in our presence. The conversation between them, translated on the spot by Nassar, was of such importance to us, that I give it almost word for word—

"Why are you dressed in this fashion?" said Munza to his lieutenant. "You know that in my kingdom all my subjects, great and small, must wear the same style of dress."

Munza, who had noticed that his brother's head was arrayed in a species of silken turban, and that his feet were encased in Oriental slippers, was, in a roundabout way, leading the conversation into the channel interesting to himself.

Degberra, timid to excess in presence of the King, although amongst his own subjects he is a terrible despot, made some incoherent explanations, and wound up by saying that he had received the articles, as presents, from Aboo-Sammit.

"That is a lie," said Munza, roughly. "You got them from a white man who passed through your district some time ago, and of whom you nave never spoken to me. Now you will have to tell me all about him."

Taken thus, at a disadvantage, the Viceroy was at a loss what to say. He turned towards his officers, and was about to question them, but Munza gave a sotto-voce order to his own subordinates, and in a moment those in the service of Degberra were separated from their master, and isolated from each other.

We did not at first realise the full meaning of this manoeuvre, but we very speedily came to the conclusion that it was both excellent and ingenious. In fact, if Degberra were to take it into his head to lie, all his myrmidons would repeat the same falsehood, and Munza would not be able to get at the truth. To learn that, he was first of all going to make the accused speak, and then he would examine the witnesses in turn. A juge d'instruction, or a judge of assize in France, would have adopted a similar course.

"Answer," said the King of the Monbuttoos to his brother, when the latter stood alone before him. "A stranger has resided in your dominions without my knowledge. Tell me everything you know about him. On that condition alone will I pardon you."

"Ask, and I will answer," replied Degberra.

"First of all, when was this white man with you?"

We had to pause for a reply. The most intelligent negroes have great difficulty in accounting for time. The new moon is the general basis of their calculations, which consequently are rather indefinite, and often inaccurate. However, after considerable effort, Degberra managed to fix, very clearly, as far as we were concerned, the date when M. de Guéran passed through his district. This date agreed with the indications given by Nassar, as well as with the heading of the letter entrusted to him.

This first point settled, Munza proceeded to further details—

"Describe the white man to me," said he.

This question caused a general stir amongst us. We had, it may be remembered, described M. de Guéran as a father, and not as a husband. If he were described as young, Munza might begin by suspecting, and end by finding out the truth. But when a man's age is under consideration, the ideas of equatorial tribes differ from ours; amongst them a man is old at fifty, and, as the Baron de Guéran attained his fortieth year in 1872, Degberra would not dream of exhibiting him as a young man.

The portrait drawn by him was similar to that limned by Madame de Guéran for our benefit, and the emotion of our fair companion was almost painful to witness. Her tear-dimmed eyes, her pallor, and the whole expression of her face told their tale eloquently. Munza watched her narrowly, and, if he still had any lingering doubt about the truth of our tale, he was evidently now convinced that she was in search of some one beloved, whose traces she had at length found.

The examination became, in consequence, closer and more searching.

"Whence came the stranger?" asked the King. "Had he crossed any portion of the kingdom before he arrived in your district?"

"No," replied Degberra, struggling with his faulty memory. "He never set foot in the western portion of your empire. He came from the north and, to reach the south, he passed through the Momvoo country, and over the mountains to the east of your possessions."

These words confirmed Nassar's statements; more than that, even his suppositions were, so to speak, certified to.

"And why," asked the King, with some severity, "did you not apprise me of the arrival of the white man?"

Degberra again hesitated, but warned by his brother's look that he had better obey, he answered—

"He begged me not to tell you. He feared you, and knew that you had prevented another traveller from going southwards."

"Why do you not say at once," exclaimed Munza, "that you were paid by him for your silence and your treason? You exact tribute from all foreigners, and, to avoid sharing it with me, you conceal from me the fact of their having been with you. But I have already told you that I will pardon you on condition that you speak the truth. How long did your guest stay with you?"

"I do not remember," said Degberra. "From one moon to another, I think."

"Was his caravan a numerous one?"

"No; during his stay amongst the Zandeys, the small-pox committed great ravages amongst his soldiers and bearers."

"Did he appear to be in good health?"

"Yes, as long as he was with us; but he had suffered from fever in the marshes amongst other tribes."

All these questions took a long time to ask, and still longer to answer.

"You treated him well, at all events?" resumed Munza.

"I received him in my palace, and he was a constant source of amusement to my harem, for he made music all day long with an instrument he had with him which played of its own accord."

This was a very precious piece of information. Madame de Guéran was aware that her husband, just as he was about to leave for Africa, had bought a large musical box at a shop in Paris, and this evidently was the instrument alluded to by Degberra. The Baron, profiting by the experience gained in former travels, was bent, by means of music, upon getting into the good graces of the Africans.

At length, Munza thought the moment had arrived to put the crowning question for him and for us, the one which was to decide our future.

"In what direction," he said suddenly to his brother, "did the white man go when he left you? Which way did he take?"

In excitement and anxiety we awaited Degberra's reply.

CHAPTER III.

Instead of replying by word of mouth to his brother's question, he, with both hands, took hold of the lance on which he was leaning, stooped down, placed it on the ground, and, after a momentary hesitation, proceeded to set it. It is thus, as a rule, that the Africans indicate a route, or explain the position of any given place. The exactitude of this kind of compass is such, that, according to many travellers, the spot so indicated can be reached, even if it is a hundred leagues off, without any deviation.

As soon as the lance was motionless, we stooped down to ascertain its direction, and by the aid of our compasses, we perceived that it pointed to the south-east. This fresh piece of intelligence, furnished by Degberra, was an additional confirmation of the letter of M. de Guéran. The Baron had expressed his intention of making for the Blue Mountains mentioned by Baker, and these mountains lay due south-east.

We had, therefore, settled a most important point, for M. de Guéran spoke, also, of reaching Lake Tanganyika southwards, or, if he went westwards, the provinces explored by Livingstone in his earlier travels, and leading to Congo on the Atlantic Ocean. It became evident, from the scraps of information collected in the Monbuttoo country, that the Baron had decided upon the first of these routes, by far the most simple, far less complicated than the other two, and much more rational, seeing that when once he was in Degberra's kingdom, lying east of the Monbuttoos, he was on the high road to Zanzibar.

Our host, however, extracted from his brother some details even more precise. The white man, when on the point of setting out, had asked a number of questions about the south-eastern tribes, and obtained all the information he possibly could from all the officers and others capable of giving any. In addition to this, he had persuaded Degberra to give him an escort to accompany him as far as the Domondoo frontier. This escort, after a ten days' march, left him, but saw that he was continuing his journey towards the south-east.

We could not possibly have obtained any indications more precise, trustworthy, and in conformity, at the same time, with our private information, our suppositions, and the probabilities of the case.

Munza, however, was not satisfied yet. He had his own reasons for mistrusting Degberra, and for taking the evidence of his officers, adroitly placed out of earshot from the very commencement of the interview. He accordingly ordered them to be brought before him, informed them that if they deviated one hair's breadth from the truth, he would have them beheaded, and, having produced the desired effect with this mild threat, an advantageous substitute, perhaps, for the oath enacted from witnesses amongst us, he questioned them one after the other.

The fear inspired by the King, who was known to be pitiless when on a tour of inspection in his brother's territory, jogged the memories of even the most rebellious, loosened their tongues, and made every one inclined to be outspoken. The additional information gleaned from these people, served to confirm that already given by their master. It went further than that; it completed it by clearing up a still obscure point, and doing away with a doubt which harassed us to such an extent that we informed Munza of it.

It was difficult to understand how Degberra had allowed M. de Guéran to set out for the south simply because his guest had paid him tribute, and made him a few presents. The avarice of the Viceroy was notorious, but his bad faith was equally so; he would have taken the tribute and the presents, but would also have forbidden M. de Guéran to continue his journey. Being fully aware of his brother's policy as regarded strangers, and sharing his dread of seeing them establish seribas and depôts amongst the tribes of the Equator, he would have paid little heed to keeping his word with a foreigner, if, by doing so, he ran the risk of displeasing his powerful and dreaded master. But, thanks to the statements made by his followers, we now knew, or, rather, divined why he had so graciously accorded to M. de Guéran a right of way through his territories.

The Baron, whilst his musical box was contributing to the pleasures of the Court, indulged in a few psychological studies, from which he gathered that Degberra was both sensual and fickle, and that any chance of a successful appeal to him lay through his passions. At the same time, the tales which had reached our ears, as I have mentioned already, were repeated in a far more detailed fashion in the Court of the Viceroy; it was in everybody's mouth that there was a country situated at the foot of the mountains, where all the women, so the tale ran, were far more lovely than the Monbuttoos. M. de Guéran saw at once the part he had to play, and when he had roused the curiosity and excitement of Degberra to a proper pitch, he proposed to set out for the south, make a razzia on these women, bring them captive northwards again, and exchange them with his host for elephants' tusks. The idea took the Viceroy's fancy; he put implicit faith in the promises of the white man, and allowed him to depart under the guard, be it understood, of an escort, with orders to watch him narrowly, and if necessary, to bring him back. But when he reached the Domondoo country, M. de Guéran lost no time in getting rid of the escort, continuing his journey in solitude, disappearing altogether.

Such was the gist of the revelations made to us, and to them our imagination contributed in no small degree. But it was impossible to avoid believing the united testimony of the ministers and principal officers, more especially as their account tallied so exactly with the character and passions of Degberra.

We were considerably edified; the King of the Monbuttoos had played the part of juge d'instruction to perfection, and we felt bound to show him our satisfaction and our gratitude.

To sum up—there could no longer be any doubt that in the month of February in the preceding year, M. de Guéran was fairly within those unexplored regions which are bounded by the Blue Mountains. Had he been massacred by the tribes amongst whom his escort left him? Had he died of sickness or fatigue in that land so close to the equator? Was he a prisoner there? Or, after having reached the Blue Mountains, had he succeeded in crossing them and reaching the beaten track? In this latter case he might have gained Zanzibar, have embarked there for Europe, and be awaiting Madame de Guéran in Paris.

All these hypotheses, reasonable in themselves, could have no effect on our route. Whether we continued our journey in search of our fellow-countryman, or made the best of our way back to France, we had, under existing circumstances, but one road before us, the one thus pointed out to us. This plan, moreover, appeared to suit Munza down to the ground, and that was a great thing. Towards the south-east, he would encounter tribes, on whose possessions he had already made several razzias, and whom he had intended to attack this year for the purpose of replenishing his stock of goats and cattle, animals not to be found in his own country. He was, consequently, not deviating in the least from his customary line of conduct, and his army would accept his proceedings as a matter of course. He might, indeed, have feared being drawn still farther onward in our behoof, but the negroes, however intelligent they may be, do not bother their heads about the future.

We did not make a long stay with Degberra, for the King appeared to have but little sympathy with his brother, and to wish to get away from him as soon as possible. He was also too wise to expose his army to the seductions of the country.

The troops set forward on their march with, incessant cries of Pouchio! Pouchio! which, being interpreted, means Meat! Meat! They were marching, in fact, against the possessors of countless herds of cattle, and against enemies who, in default of oxen and goats, were good to eat. After consulting with Munza, we decided to move towards the river Keebaly. This stream, as far as our information allows us to judge, takes its rise in the Blue Mountains, and if we can manage never to lose sight of it, it will guide us on our road, and lead us, as it were, by the hand.

It was decided also that, wherever we went, we should endeavour to question the chiefs of the tribes as we had done in the case of Degberra. The King, even if he could not succeed in obtaining any precise information amongst the neighbouring tribes, counted upon gaining some from one of his most powerful allies, the chief of the Maogoos or Maleggas. He did not conceal from us his fear that he should be unable to proceed any farther, if in this latter country we failed in discovering him of whom we were in search.

Our route did not admit of our taking a straight line through the land of the Akkas, a tribe of dwarfs whom Delange, now converted into an enthusiastic explorer, was very anxious to see. But we marched along their western frontier, and, as the inhabitants of this region are tributaries, as well as allies, of Munza, we made the acquaintance of a number of specimens of this curious race of pygmies.

Schweinfurth, who saw them at Munza's Court, and not, as we did, in their own country, suggests that the Akkas are the famous pygmies mentioned by Herodotus. He does not give any decided opinion on this point, but he expresses himself satisfied that they are not an isolated tribe in equatorial Africa, but that they belong to an aboriginal race scattered here and there from the Indian to the Atlantic Ocean. I think that the German traveller is right; the wandering tribe of hunters described by Du Chaillu, whose average height he says is 4 feet 7 inches, only differs from the Akkas in the great growth of hair about the body. These pygmies may be connected, also, with the Matimbos, alluded to in the accounts of Escayrac de Lauture, the Kimos of Madagascar, and the Bushmen, natives of the South African forests. All these little beings are incontestably related to each other, as is also the case with the various cannibal tribes in different parts of Africa.

Schweinfurth thus relates the manner in which he became acquainted with the Akkas. "After a few mornings my attention was arrested by a shouting in the camp, and I learned that Aboo-Sammit had surprised one of the pygmies in attendance upon the King, and was conveying him, in spite of a strenuous resistance, straight to my tent. I looked up, and there, sure enough, was the strange little creature, perched upon Sammit's right shoulder, nervously hugging his head, and casting glances of alarm in every direction. Sammit soon deposited him in the seat of honour. A royal interpreter was stationed at his side. Thus, at last, was I able veritably to feast my eyes upon a living embodiment of the myths of some thousand years!"

The European traveller put several questions to him, but, becoming very soon weary of this examination, the little man made a frantic bound, and took to flight. He was pursued, and caught; fresh persuasion was brought to bear upon him, and, his impatience being quelled, he was prevailed upon to go through a few evolutions of his war-dance. He was dressed in the rokko coat and plumed hat of the Monbuttoos, and was armed with a diminutive lance, and a bow and arrows in miniature. His agility was marvellous, and his attitudes so varied and grotesque that all the spectators held their sides with laughter. Our interpreter states that the Akkas jump about in the grass like grasshoppers, and that, when they can get near to an elephant, they shoot their arrows into its eyes, and then drive their lances into its belly. We have never seen them disembowel an elephant, but we have learnt to our cost, or, rather, to Joseph's cost, that, most decidedly this trusty servant is predestined to every kind of misadventure, and is worthy of a special page in this veracious record, a space which, accordingly, I intend to devote to him.

CHAPTER IV.

We were joined on the 20th July by a small troop of Akkas, who had taken advantage of Munza's presence on their frontier to come and pay to him at one and the same time their homage and their annual tribute. As soon as the audience was at an end, the Akkas, as curious to see the white people as we were eager to set eyes on the pygmies, came to where we were.

After having got over their first feelings of timidity and alarm, they became by degrees more familiar with us, and de Morin turned their amiability to account by taking likenesses of several of them, whilst I jotted down in my memorandum-book the following particulars. Head, large and round, set on a thin, weak neck; height from 4 feet 5 inches to 4 feet 9 inches; arms long; upper part of the chest contracted, but widening out downwards to the huge stomach—paunch would be a better word; knees round and plump; hands small and elegant enough to excite the envy of Europeans even; a waddling-gait, owing to the centre of gravity being shifted by the size of the stomach; skull wide, and with a deep indentation at the base of the nose; chin receding; jaw pointed; hair short, and no beard whatever, notwithstanding the fable which endues the Akkas with flowing white beards, descending to their knees. After having pencilled down this portrait, I added these words—in spite of all their imperfections, these tiny beings do not resemble in any way the dwarfs exhibited amongst us at so much per head. Their deformity is, if I may so speak, natural, neither the result of any accident, nor phenomenal.

I closed my note-book, and did the honours of the tent, to the best of my ability, to our little visitors, so as to leave them a pleasing recollection of the celebrated white men, whose renown had penetrated even to them. Madame de Guéran gave them a few presents, Delange set himself seriously to work to study them from a phrenological point of view, and Miss Poles even, terribly severe on her own sex, but ever indulgent towards ours, treated these diminutive personages with all respect, declared that they were not at all bad in their way, and was especially eloquent on the intelligence of their expression.

As the Akkas, taking advantage of their diminutive stature and our kindness to them, very soon were guilty of certain indiscretions, we left them to themselves and our servants. Then it was that Joseph, emerging, theatrically speaking, from the wings, appeared on the stage. Full as ever of importance and presumption, inflated with his own personal advantages, proud of his physical superiority, and deeming himself, as a white man, to be far above all the Africans put together, he took it into his head to hold an inspection of the Akkas.

He walked to and fro amongst them, did the very heavy swell, stroked his whiskers, and looked down with lofty contempt upon all these funny beings, the tallest of whom was about the height of a child of ten years old. From time to time he stopped in his perambulation to cast a contemptuous glance on those around him, grinning, as he did so, in an idiotic, imbecile manner, and here and there bestowing a back-handed slap, intended to be encouraging.

Several of the Akkas, serious old gentlemen, very grand personages, perhaps, in their own little way, speedily came to the conclusion that the white man was making fun of them, and they began to betray signs of impatience. Joseph was utterly blind to all this; not content with his promenading and grinning, he showed an inclination to play with his little companions, like a fat schoolmaster with the small urchins of his village. The game he invented to take the place of a ball or a hoop was not a very happy idea, for he took it into his head, after the manner of Gulliver, to convert himself into a triumphal arch and make the newly-discovered Liliputians pass underneath it.

Some of them, good-tempered and entering into the spirit of the thing, joined in the game, but, all of a sudden, a man of about thirty, who had previously shown symptoms of annoyance at being treated like a child, and was now rendered positively furious by this final indignity, instead of passing beneath the triumphal arch, jumped on Joseph's back, clasped him round the neck with his arms, and bit his shoulder until it bled.

The pain was excessive, but it was nothing to the fear experienced by Joseph. The unexpected attack, and savage bite, conjured up all the ghosts of cannibalism which had haunted his troubled spirit for some time past. The Akka dwarfs, whom he had looked upon as harmless, disappeared; he saw before him only gigantic cannibals; they were not biting him, they were not eating him up bit by bit; he was being swallowed wholesale.

He uttered the most piercing shrieks, and begged for mercy, but the Pygmy was quite comfortable pick-a-back, relished the flavour of his steed's shoulder, and gave himself up to it with all his heart, or, rather, with all his teeth, whilst the whole of his companions, with their little hands holding their fat stomachs, laughed all over their tiny faces, as they had seen Joseph do.

The more our servant struggled, the more he curvetted about in order to throw the Akka, the tighter the latter held on to his neck with his arms, and to his shoulder with his teeth. He used Joseph as a steed, spurred him with his heels, and made him run or stop as he pleased, clasping him round the neck more and more firmly, and digging his teeth into him with increasing ferocity. Joseph wanted a game, so that he had no right to complain. He was playing at horses, only he was the steed, and the Akka the rider.

And what a rider! It was impossible to unhorse him. His steed, recalling the way a donkey has of rolling on his back, with his four legs in the air, lay down at full length and attempted to crush his jockey under his weight. But the skilful cavalier was quite up to that move; he slid round in front, and when Joseph got up the Akka was face to face with him, with his little eyes glistening, and every pointed tooth showing.

At last Joseph's piercing shrieks attracted the attention of some Monbuttoo soldiers. Seeing what was taking place, and having themselves, possibly, marked Joseph down as a toothsome morsel in case provisions should run short, they rescued him from the grinders of the dwarf, so that at all events a little bit of him might be left.

On the day after this occurrence, Joseph, whose head had been troubling him, was seized with a raging fever, accompanied by contractions of the muscles, and severe cramp. In the height of this fever, he imagined that he had been bitten by some mad animal, and that he had himself gone mad in consequence. "Get away," he shouted, "get away, I shall bite you!" Dr. Delange, though he did not fear rabies, which is nearly unknown in Africa, was at first alarmed by the violence of the delirium, but Nassar informed us that it was almost an invariable feature in the disease from which Joseph was suffering, peculiar to this climate, and called kichyoma.

The sorcerers and fetish-mongers of every description who followed the army, hastened to offer their services on behalf of the sufferer, but we sent them away, after overwhelming them with thanks and presents, for in Africa it is indispensably necessary to keep these quacks, often more powerful than even the chiefs, in a good humour.

Delange is quite equal to the task of restoring his patient to health, but if he is so restored, he will not be cured. He is sure to meet with some fresh disaster; indeed, he appears to be making a collection of them.

August 2nd.—We are in a hostile country, amongst the Domondoos. The inhabitants took to flight at our approach, abandoning all their possessions to the rapacity and, above all, the voracity of the Monbuttoos, who laid violent hands on fowls, goats, glass beads, ivory, skins, and tobacco. We are on a regular thieving expedition.

Munza is nearly always close to us, grave, thoughtful, often taciturn. He takes no part in the lawless proceedings of his army; but, though he appears to repudiate them, he does nothing to stop them.

"If I were to forbid them to rob and eat," said he one day to Madame de Guéran, "they would think I was mad, and would refuse to follow me. For your sakes I must not choose this time to reform the manners of my people."

He was wise in his generation, and he might have added that to bring about any reformation in African manners would be a task of considerable difficulty. The further we go the more disheartened we become on the subject. When we reflect that this people, old as the hills, has stood still for centuries—nay, that, on the contrary, it has gone backward to the utmost extreme of barbarism! For one man possessed of intelligence, and displaying more civilization than the remainder, such as Munza, for instance, we see every moment of our lives scores of brutes, neither more nor less. From a tribe like that of the Monbuttoos, considerably ahead of their neighbours, we pass suddenly to the Domondoos, who differ from animals simply in their power of speech.

If they had only an idea of fighting, by which they live, or, more truly die, but they have not even that. For countless years past the Monbuttoos have been in the habit of making a descent upon their territory at certain fixed periods, when they rob them, plunder, kill, and eat them, and not even yet have they been able to see that nothing would be easier than to exterminate and get rid, once and for all, of their dreaded invaders. Five or six hundred men hidden in the high grass, which in this country would afford cover for a whole army, screened by the gigantic trees, sheltered by the rocks on the Keebaly, or posted on the rising ground, which the enemy must skirt, would be ample to protect a country such as this, admirably adapted for defensive operations, and almost impregnable. But no—no sooner do they catch sight of the enemy than away they run, abandoning everything they possess, without even thinking of carrying off their most valuable treasures and hiding them in the mountains. Then all the fugitives collect together, and in a compact body engage the army of the Monbuttoos on open ground, where their bodies are just so many targets. The fight begins, it lasts for a few hours at most, and all is over; the Monbuttoos march off with their plunder and a thousand prisoners, to return in the following year at exactly the same period, and once more leave their cards on their neighbours.

This description was verified to the letter, and we came upon them in number about five or six thousand, in close order like ears of corn in a field, gesticulating, shouting, and beating their drums. We had only to open fire upon them with our sixty rifles, every bullet from which would find a billet in the ruck, and we should have laid the whole army low in ten minutes.

But they need not be uneasy; we are not going to take part in the massacre. It is a matter entirely between the Monbuttoos and the Domondoos, and we Europeans have nothing whatever to do with it. Nevertheless, the Nubians and Dinkas of our escort were eager to fight. Neither our society, which they had enjoyed for six months, the examples of moderation and humanity we had given them, nor their own semi-civilized state could subdue their warlike nature; the old original African blood rushed to their heads, and they felt impelled to put themselves in motion, to shout, strike, and kill.

They came round us and begged permission to fight. "What will the
Monbuttoos think of us," said they, "if we do not help them?"

"Fight away, my friends, fight away!" replied de Morin, and he served out to each man ten rounds of blank cartridge, which he had prepared on the previous evening expressly for this purpose. They could thus make plenty of noise and not hurt anybody.

We ourselves, armed with telescopes, followed from a distance the varying fortunes of the battle. If it went against our allies, then, and then alone, would we interfere. We did not consider that we could well do otherwise.

The arrows began to whiz through the air; the battle had begun.
Attention!

CHAPTER V.

In the retreat we had chosen, on the flank, and about three hundred yards from both armies, no arrow, however badly aimed, could reach us, protected as we were by spreading, lofty trees. But if by means of our telescopes, we could follow the movements of the troops, take account of their manoeuvres, and distinguish them in the mass, all the details of the battle escaped us. We were looking down upon a mêlée on a large scale, but we could take no note of the curious incidents of the fray.

"We are too far off!" de Morin persisted in saying. He was in such a state of excitement that he could not keep still, but was continually moving about and venturing into the open.

Nobody took the trouble to answer him, for the simple reason that there was nothing to say. We knew that we were too far off to see well, but we were quite near enough for safety, and that was all we cared about.

After having taken one or two turns round the trees, de Morin, still harping on his one fixed idea, came up to us and said—

"If we could only manage to catch sight of the king from this observatory of ours! Politeness alone would seem to dictate our contriving to witness his prowess."

"I am a witness already," I replied, "and it only depends on yourself to enjoy the self-same sight. If instead of pacing about in that idiotic manner, you would keep quiet for a moment, you would see the great Munza, towering with his head and plumed hat above all his guard of honour. He has plunged into the thick of the fight, and has already cleared a large space around him. See, he turns towards us, as if to say, 'I fight for you!'"

My last words were ill-judged, and I saw it as soon as they were out of my mouth.

"That is just my reason," cried de Morin, "for chafing at not being by his side. He exposes his life for us, and—"

To remedy my error, I hastened to say—

"My dear fellow, he exposes himself because it is his duty to fight at the head of his men. The chiefs of the Niam-Niam alone, amongst all the black tribes, hold aloof during a battle, ready to hide themselves, their wives, and their treasures in the most accessible marshes, should fortune declare against them. They never appear except to share in the plunder; but the King of the Monbuttoos belongs to quite another class."

"If you were to say," added Miss Poles, who for some time past had invariably spoken of Munza in terms of the utmost contempt, "that this savage has the most disgusting tastes, and is in his element amidst fire and sword, you would be giving the true reason of his rushing headlong into the fray."

De Morin did not hear this malicious speech, emanating from wounded pride, and continued his feverish, excited walk up and down an open space in front of some banana trees. Anyone who knew de Morin would have been pretty sure that he was revolving some scheme in his head.

Suddenly he stopped, and turning towards us, asked us whether we had not been struck with the expressions made use of by the Nubians.

"What expressions?" said Madame de Guéran.

"They told us that they would be despised by the Monbuttoos if they did not fight with them."

"Yes; but what of that?"

"I am afraid," replied our friend, with some hesitation, "that if we remain passive, they will despise us also."

"Do you mean to say that you care about the contempt of the
Monbuttoos? Oh, M. de Morin!" said Miss Poles, with lofty disdain.

The grievance of Miss Beatrice against Munza made her unjust as regards his subjects; in her anger, hatred, and malice she tarred the King and his army with the same brush.

Without taking any notice of the remark of our eccentric companion, I observed to de Morin that we had no right to massacre these brave Domandoos, against whom we could not possibly have any ground of complaint.

"I never said a word about massacring them," replied de Morin. "But we ought to take the command of our Nubians. They are, as you see, behaving very prudently, and await our orders to fire; we could do what we liked with them."

"Nassar is quite capable of leading them," said Madame de Guéran. "Believe me," she added with a smile, "we shall be doing right by observing strict neutrality in this affair. You will have other opportunities, and very soon, perhaps, of fighting on your own account."

Unfortunately, the Baroness, after uttering this sage advice, strolled away with Miss Poles to seek shelter from the sun under a large sycamore tree.

Her presence had up to this time kept our friend's excitement within bounds; but as soon as he was no longer subject to this salutary influence, he lost his head completely, as he sometimes did, without showing the slightest symptom of the fact. The dear old donkey was never so clear in argument, so cool, or so collected as when he was meditating some act of downright folly.

This time he tried to make Delange his excuse. He knew very well that he was in no danger of reckoning without his host; the Doctor, wise and prudent at the commencement of the expedition, had now occasionally his moments of mild insanity, as if he had had a sunstroke.

"You will doubtless remember," said de Morin to him, "that one evening when I was tranquilly smoking my pipe in the hut with Périères, you compelled me to get up and follow you into the shed constructed for Munza's eighty wives."

"Do I remember!" replied Delange. "We had a charming game of bezique, with the women on one side and Bengal lights on the other. I was quite justified in disturbing you as I took the liberty of doing. I had lost on the previous night."

"I never said you were wrong. But, if I am not mistaken, you won the game you mention, and ever since then fortune has smiled incessantly upon you. Yesterday, again, I lost at piquet."

"I should never, of my own accord, have summoned up these sad memories," replied Delange; "but as you have mentioned them—why, yes, my debt to you has by this time become trifling—a matter of a few thousand francs at the outside."

"Shall we play double or quits?" suggested de Morin, suddenly.

Delange's eyes sparkled, and he brightened up directly, though, for the sake of appearances, he felt bound to say—

"Have we any right to infringe one of the most formal clauses of our treaty?"

"Hang the treaty!" replied de Morin. "It is such an old affair. Besides, if we are both of the same mind we can cancel it at any time."

"Oh, quite so. I am only speaking, as you can see clearly enough, in your interest. I am in luck—"

"Pray do not stand on any ceremony with me, for I have a presentiment that I shall win."

"We will see about that."

"Then do not let us lose any time about it."

"With all my heart. Here are our cards—they never leave me—and the trunk of this old tree will do for a card-table."

"What! You propose playing here, well under cover, whilst down below there they are cutting each others throats? You did not mean that, surely, my dear fellow."

"Your idea is—?" said Delange, pointing with his finger.

"Exactly so! it is a charming spot, just between the two armies, and beneath the cloud of arrows, which is becoming more dense every moment. They will take the place of a tent or an awning, and will shield us from the sun."

"Of course they will. Upon my word, your idea is positively charming."

"You are a couple of fools," I exclaimed, thinking it high time to put my oar in. "The arrows will not go over your heads; they will take you in front and in rear."

"Then we shall be just like two animated pin-cushions," rejoined de
Morin, laughing.

"That will be a joke," added Delange. "Come along, old fellow; I am with you."

I made one more effort to restrain the pair of lunatics.

"I should be the first to applaud and follow you if there were the least use in what you are going to do."

"Do you think," exclaimed de Morin, interrupting him, "that it is of no use to teach all these people that we are not afraid of them, and that we hold their arrows and lances in utter contempt? I suppose you would like them to say, when they get back to their country, 'In the hour of danger the white men ensconced themselves behind the banana trees and looked on whilst their allies fought and bled for them.' It is not only of use, but it is indispensably necessary that we should stand high in the esteem of the Monbuttoos. It may be that the success of our enterprise depends on our line of conduct this very day."

"De Morin is right," said Delange. "In the first flush of success these people may make us pay dearly for our inaction and prudence."

"Then," said I, "if that is your opinion, I have nothing to do but go with you. I was present at the game you played under the shed; I will look on at the one you are going to play beneath the arrows."

"No, no," exclaimed de Morin; "you must stay with Madame de Guéran."

"Would you act on that piece of advice, my dear de Morin, if I were in your place and gave it to you?" I asked.

"I should take very good care to do nothing of the sort, my dear
Périères," replied my rival.

"Then do not interfere with me. The battle is becoming more serious every moment. The Monbuttoos have some idea of strategy, and have nearly turned the enemy's flank. I do not think the fight will last much longer."

"I do not care," said de Morin, "so long as it gives us time for one game at écarté!"

"Only one?" asked Delange. "Kindly recollect that I owe you still eleven thousand francs; I have just consulted my book. Eleven thousand francs in five points is a little bit too much."

"Would you prefer a rubber?"

"Yes; a rubber, by all means. But," continued Delange, "a thought has just struck me. If I win, I shall not owe you anything."

"Certainly not, because we are going to play double or quits."

"In that case we shall not play any more to the end of the journey?" said the Doctor, in a tone of dismay.

"Make your mind easy," replied de Morin. "I will not be as cruel as all that. We have agreed to play for fifty louis every day, and we will go on doing so. If I am the loser in the end, so much the worse for me. The contract remains in full force, and this breaking through its provisions must be looked upon as an exceptional case."

"Then I have nothing more to say," rejoined Delange. "I was getting rather nervous, I admit, and I was thinking of making my way back to Paris alone. But as long as I can play cards every day, I am delighted with Africa."

Whilst this conversation was going on these two dear lunatics had advanced about three hundred yards towards the opposing forces, and I walked with them, watching the flight of arrows through the air, and listening to their hissing noise, now very plainly audible.

CHAPTER VI.

The war cries, shouts, and the groans of the wounded were also distinctly heard by us. The Domondoos express their sufferings by the cry Aou! Aou! or, if their agony is extreme, by Akonn! Akonn! The Monbuttoo expression, on the contrary, is Nanegoué! Nanegoué!

"You see, my dear Périères," said de Morin, "that we were quite right to leave the pit of the theatre and take our places in the stalls; we are gaining instruction. These cries teach us that every nation expresses suffering in a different way. The French people say—Aïe! Aïe! Oh! la! la! The English call out—Oh! oh! oh! The Germans— Och! och! och! The Bungos—Aah! The Djours—Aooay! As for the Monbuttoos, you can hear what they say, and I am free to confess that the fools cry out loud enough."

"These remarks," chimed in Delange, who, even when he was joking, maintained his customary air of gravity, "are of immense interest to science, and we shall have deserved well of all the learned societies in the world. And to think that those miserable Parisians, with easy consciences and minds at rest, are at this moment strolling on the beach at Dieppe and Trouville without giving a thought to the fact that they are ignorant of the cry of a Monbutto in pain!"

"Too true!" added de Morin. "They have not even a suspicion that such beings as the Monbuttoos exist."

"Is it possible? Poor creatures, how deeply they are to be pitied!"

We had reached the spot we intended to occupy—a little hillock, very conspicuous, without shelter of any kind, and equidistant from the troops of Munza and the hostile force. We seated ourselves on the grass, which at this precise place was not more than a foot high, and Delange, taking two packs of cards out of his pocket, said to de Morin—

"Let us cut for deal."

We were not exposed over-much to the sun, for, as my two companions had foreseen, the continuous flights of arrows from the two armies darkened the sky. It was slightly warm, and that was all.

The game commenced, and was played with the utmost seriousness. De Morin was, perhaps, less interested than his adversary, but as the stakes were rather high, and losing or winning them meant an entire change in the state of affairs, with a possibility of his no longer playing on velvet, as the saying goes, he was tolerably careful in his play. As regards Delange, the prospect of at last getting rid of a debt which had for so long been tormenting him, and the idea that very soon he might be a creditor in his turn, raised his excitement to a very high pitch, though he played his best and was thoroughly self-possessed.

Whilst these two were absorbed in their game, I lay at full length on the grass and watched the progress of the fray. The Monbuttoos, seeing us advancing towards the field of battle, naturally thought we were going to help them, and received us with uproarious shouts. But, when they saw us come to a halt, sit down, take little pictures out of our pockets, and shuffle them in our hands, they were dumbfounded. Munza alone, perhaps, was capable of appreciating our idea; he understood, as we found out later on, that, though we were determined not to fight, we did not intend to shirk our share of danger. However, if the motive by which we were actuated escaped the mass of the people, they recognized the one fact before their eyes—in the situation occupied by us, of our own free will, we were exposed to the missiles of both armies. Instinctively they admired our courage and coolness, and as soon as they saw that the arrows did not hit us, they thought we were invulnerable, and we must have risen proportionately in their esteem.

The Domondoos, on their side, were alarmed by the sudden apparition of three white men, clothed in a strange garb, and advancing quietly in the open. If they had been gifted with any religious feeling, they might have taken us for celestial beings, a trio of angels descended from the clouds, to watch over the struggles of man. But, without having such an exalted opinion of us, they, possibly, imagined that we had come up from below to protect them. When they perceived that, instead of spreading our wings over their army, we were simply minding our own business—lying down on the grass, and turning our backs upon them, they were excessively dissatisfied, and set to work to insult us. Some of them indulged in threatening gestures, others, shouting their war cry, and bounding from one side to the other, as if they were taking part in a pantomime, came close up to us and assailed us with volleys of invective.

A flight of arrows, winged, no doubt, by Munza's orders, compelled them to retire, and from that moment we heard nothing but the whizzing of the shafts, and the unceasing din of the battle.

"One game to me," said Delange.

"So much the better," replied de Morin. "I shall win the second, and then we can play the conqueror."

"Pending which, I mark the king," rejoined the doctor.

"Mark away, but excuse me for one moment whilst I glance at this arrow which just missed my back."

He put out his hand and, without getting up, pulled the impertinent missile out of the ground.

"Look," continued de Morin, turning to me, "the shaft is feathered with the leaves of the banana tree."

"To increase its velocity," remarked Delange, as he shuffled the cards. "Is the point iron or wood?"

"Iron."

"That is bad; I do not like that, the wound is so much more difficult to cure."

"See," said de Morin, handing the arrow to the doctor. "It seems as if the point were smeared with some gummy substance."

"So it is, my dear fellow; there is no doubt about that, any more than that the substance is poison."

"Poison? Brr! as Munza says, that sounds nasty."

"Don't be uneasy," replied the doctor. "If you are wounded by one of these engines of war, I will wash the wound with a preparation I have, and you may, possibly, get over it. Cards?"

"No, thanks. I play."

The arrows whizzed by incessantly in a perfect deluge, and as I saw numbers of them falling all around us, I could not help thinking of the description given by Schweinfurth of his fight with the Niam-Niam, where he says that "the storm of arrows which they hurled against us as we advanced fell like strays from a waggon-load of straw."

At the same time the war cries, the yelling, the groans of the wounded and dying, the braying of trumpets, and rolling of drums, were mingled in one confused, deafening din, slightly trying to the nerves of peaceable écarté players.

Suddenly, at the very height of the uproar, profound silence fell on the host of the Monbuttoos, whilst cries of joy and triumph might be heard from the ranks of the hostile army. Something serious had evidently happened. I took up my telescope, steadied it on the shoulder of the doctor, who, more and more absorbed in his game, did not even know that I was using him as a rest, and looked towards the Monbuttoos.

"Munza is wounded!" I exclaimed.

"Ah!" said de Morin.

"Ah!" echoed Delange. "I score one. We are four all."

"Are you not going to offer your services to the wounded man?" I asked.

"Certainly; that is my intention. I know my duty. But on the cards which de Morin is dealing hangs my fate. If they are good, I shall win the second game, and, consequently, the rubber. Munza will not die from the momentary delay."

He took the five cards which his adversary had just laid tenderly on the grass, looked at him, and said—

"I play."

"Play," said de Morin, with a smile, as if he were sure of the game.

For a moment I forgot all about the King of the Monbuttoos in my interest in his hand, which might possibly be a decisive one. It was not so. De Morin, thanks to a wretched little trump, made the third trick and went out. They were consequently game and game, and had to play the conqueror.

"I must go and attend to the King's wound," said the doctor, laying hold of his instrument case, which he had taken care to bring with him.

"Shall I come with you?" asked de Morin.

"There is no necessity for that," replied Delange, as he went away. "I shall be back directly. Take care of the cards, whatever you do, and keep them out of harm's way."

"I will cover them with my body!" exclaimed de Morin.

The doctor, in a hurry to get back and finish the rubber, strode along rapidly towards the Monbuttoos. I went after him, thinking that I might be of some use, and, as I felt sure that nobody would ask me to show my commission or diploma, I at once conferred upon myself the rank of staff-surgeon of the second class.