“What say you, my brethren?” he asked. “Shall we fight the heathen?”
“No,” I interrupted, “you shall not fight. For one thing, they are too many and have guns; but also the fault is mine, and if any blood is to be spilt it must be mine, too,” and by way of ending the debate I walked over to the fetish men, one of whom immediately seized me by the wrist.
“Thou shalt not go, Yúsufu,” cried the warm-hearted Abduláhi, bursting into tears and trying to drag me away. But I gently pushed him off, and as the armed men closed round me, Musa and Dam-Bornu held the weeping giant by the arms that he might not attack my captors.
The business was now brought quickly to a conclusion. Two of the fetish-men took me by the arms, the rest of the party surrounded me, and I was marched off without more ceremony. I turned to take a last look at the camp as we moved away. Our people were all talking with furious excitement, pointing and shaking their fists at the retreating natives, and I could see the big, soft-hearted Abduláhi lying prone on the ground, rending his clothes and sobbing aloud.
As long as we were within sight of the camp no affront or violence was offered to me, for the pagans evidently had no desire to come to blows with the Hausas; but no sooner was the camp hidden from view than my captors began to give me a taste of their quality. First my arms were tightly bound to my sides with grass-rope, and when I had thus been rendered helpless, the ruffian with the bandaged head dealt me a heavy blow across the shoulders with his staff. Then a halter was fastened round my neck and the end taken by one of the fetish-men, who started off at a trot, dragging me after him.
We soon branched off the main road, and taking a forest path that I had not noticed before, travelled on rapidly for over half an hour in a direction which I roughly calculated would bring us to the neighbourhood of the pool. Presently we entered a large village where a crowd, largely composed of women and children, had assembled, apparently in expectation of our arrival.
Down the main street of the village I was dragged in the midst of this mob, almost deafened by the uproar of their shouting, and nearly choked by the dust, until we reached a large open space, in the centre of which stood a gigantic silk-cotton tree. At the foot of this tree, wedged in between two of the great root-buttresses, was a hut built of palm sticks, and, as we approached it, a swarm of smallish dog-faced monkeys ambled out and sat down at a little distance to watch us.
The door of the hut being removed, I was taken inside and my halter tied securely to one of the uprights, and then all the men went away with the exception of the fellow with the bandaged head, who remained behind apparently to gloat over my downfall. He came and stood before me, holding my unfortunate sinker in his hand and, thrusting his ugly countenance within an inch of my face, delivered a long and excited harangue, of which I, naturally, understood not a word. Then he held up the sinker before my face and put to me what I supposed to be a number of questions about it, and when I returned no answer, he slashed me across the face with his stick, and followed this up by several blows about my fettered arms and shoulders.
This entertainment seemed to satisfy him for the present, and, with a parting cut at my legs, he went out, leaving the door of the hut open.
The space in which the hut stood appeared to be a sacred precinct, for the crowd had not followed beyond its border, and I could now see them through the doorway, a half-naked, jabbering rabble, standing some sixty yards away, pointing and gazing at the hut, just as a mob at home hangs about the gates of a hospital when an accident case has been admitted.
Presently I ascertained that my halter was just long enough to allow me to sit down in the corner, so I lowered myself with great care—lest in my helpless state I should slip and thus be strangled—and seated myself on the bare earth. I had not been long in this position when a monkey’s head was thrust cautiously round the corner of the doorway. Soon another appeared, and then two more, and so on until gradually the whole troop collected, grimacing and chattering with the greatest concern and anxiety. Then they began to creep in one by one, eyeing me cunningly and suspiciously all the time, and sat down before me in a semicircle; and at length one patriarchal male reached out his hand and pinched my leg, on which I gave a sudden shout and the whole party bundled pell-mell out through the door, barking, coughing and clucking in the wildest excitement. They returned from time to time, to my excessive discomfort and somewhat to my alarm, for if they had really mobbed me, I could have made no sort of defence; but a sudden movement on my part always caused them to decamp.
When I had been in the hut about three hours, I saw one of the fetish-men approaching, followed by a lad who carried a large flat calabash and an earthen jar. The calabash, I could see, contained some kind of food, for the monkeys gathered round the lad, chattering volubly and making snatches at him as he walked.
The fetish-man entered the hut and sat down on the floor, and the calabash being placed beside him, he began to distribute its contents—balls of coarse meal—among the monkeys, who came forward quietly enough to receive their rations, and having each taken a ball from his hand, ambled away to a little distance, and sat down to eat it. When the monkeys were all served, the fetish-man laid the calabash, which still contained a half-dozen balls, before me, and stood the jar of water beside it; but perceiving that my fetters prevented me from helping myself, he motioned to the slave boy to come and feed me, and then went away. The slave, whom I judged, by the elaborate pattern of incised lines on his face, to be a Dagómba, sat down by my side, and, breaking the balls into suitable pieces, very carefully inserted them into my mouth; and when I had finished eating he held the jar of water to my lips while I took a long draught.
This meal, rough as it was, greatly refreshed me, for I had taken no food since the previous day; but I was in a good deal of pain from the tight bands of rope round my arms, and the bruises that the fetish-man’s staff had produced. This did not escape the good-natured slave’s observation, for, when I had finished drinking, he proceeded to loosen the bands somewhat, and soaking a corner of his cloth in water, he bathed my black and swollen bruises very gently and tenderly.
These charitable ministrations were interrupted by the approach of a procession consisting of the fetish-men (who were now loaded with uncouth cowrie ornaments and had their faces and limbs painted with broad white stripes), a body of armed men, and a band of musicians, who produced appalling noises with trumpets formed of large antelope’s horns and long drums, black and shiny with dried blood and elaborately ornamented with festoons of human jaw-bones.
When the musicians had played a few selections from some kind of devil’s opera outside the hut, the fetish-men entered, and having untied my halter led me forth; and I now observed that a large crowd had collected near a shade tree in the village. Towards this spot our procession slowly advanced, preceded by the musicians and followed by the guard, and as we came near to the crowd the people arranged themselves into a long line and eventually enclosed us in a circle. I noticed that the villagers were not dressed in their usual fashion, but wore kilts or short petticoats of soft fibre and carried on their wrists and ankles a number of curious plaited bangles that rattled loudly at every movement; and that, moreover, each bore in his or her hand a long tassel or brush of the same fibre as the kilts were made of. When the circle was formed, the musicians and the guard disappeared; a wooden stool, thickly coated with dried blood, was placed in the centre of the circle, and I was seated on it with the party of fetish-men behind me.
Then the people began to chant a melancholy minor air, and as they chanted, they stooped and swept the ground with their brushes, moving slowly round me, punctuating the chant by stamping their feet and shaking their rattles in unison. This strange ceremonial had an effect that was very devilish and horrid, which was enhanced by the quiet and orderly manner in which it was performed, and by the sad, plaintive character of the chant. As I sat and watched the unending line of stooping figures slowly filing past, the brushes moving softly and rhythmically to and fro, and listened to the weird song and the murmur of the rattles, like the shingle on a sea beach, I could scarcely repress a feeling of superstitious dread.
Suddenly there appeared within the circle a most horrible and grotesque figure that instantly recalled the horned image in the path by the pool.
A tall man was shrouded from head to foot in a flowing garment of the soft palm fibre, and his face was hidden by a great wooden mask, hideously painted, and furnished with a pair of long, curved horns.
This frightful apparition stalked slowly round the circle, creating no small terror in the people whom he approached. Then he slowly walked up to me, and, bending over me, thrust the hideous mask in my face and glared at me through the eye-holes. When he had stood thus for a minute or so, he stepped back a few paces and began to dance very slowly and sedately, spreading out his garment on either side and wagging the great horned mask in a most horrible manner. Then he came and knelt on the ground before me, remaining perfectly motionless while the people still sidled round, chanting, sweeping, and shaking their rattles. At last he nodded the great mask at me, three times, in a slow and mysterious fashion, and in a twinkling there was slipped over my head and shoulders a leathern bag, which shut out the light and sound and nearly suffocated me. A confused din of drums, horns, and chanting voices came distantly to my ears, and I felt coil after coil of rope being passed round my body and limbs, and made out that I was being lashed to some kind of pole. Presently the pole was lifted into a horizontal position, and as I hung from it, the coils of rope cut into my flesh in the most agonising manner. I could feel my bearers lift the pole on to their shoulders, and then they started off at a brisk walk, each step causing me excruciating pain.
We left the village by a narrow forest path, as I could tell by feeling leaves and branches brushing against my body, and we travelled along this, as it seemed to me for hours. Next we crossed a wide clearing, where I could feel the hot sun pouring down upon my naked skin—for they had torn off the remnant of my clothing when they bound me to the pole—and then quite suddenly the air became dank and chilly, as if we had entered a cellar or a vault, and, in spite of the bag in which my head was muffled, I could hear that the creaking of the pole reverberated in a hollow fashion as sounds do in a tunnel. Presently they laid me on the ground, and then I was tilted over an edge and partly slid and partly hoisted down what seemed like a ladder, and again carried along the level for a time. Then came another steep descent and another stretch along the level, and of a sudden the air became hot, not with the heat of the sun but with the close warmth of a fire.
I was now laid down on a smooth, hard surface, and I felt someone unfastening the lashing that held me to the pole, although my arms and legs were still tightly bound. Then the bag was plucked from my head and I drew in a deep breath of hot, stuffy, foul-smelling air.
I was so closely bound that I was barely able to move my head, but I turned it about as well as I could and gazed round me very earnestly and curiously. But the place was in total darkness excepting for a faint red glow upon the roof above me, and I could not turn my head sufficiently to discover the source of this light. The roof itself I could barely make out, but it seemed to be formed of rough earth or rock.
That I was not alone was abundantly clear, for the place resounded with the murmur of voices, and with various noises as if a number of persons were engaged in some kind of handicraft, and all these sounds had a peculiar reverberating quality as sounds have in a vault or empty building.
The number of persons I judged to be considerable, for, although the hum of talk was loud and continuous, I could not separate any phrases or words nor distinguish what language was being spoken. Now and again I caught the clank as of a metal bucket set down on a hard floor, and the gurgle of water poured from one vessel into another; indistinct sounds of hammering came at intervals, and once or twice I thought I could hear the blowing of bellows.
The tight bands of rope which still encircled my arms and legs caused me very severe pain, and the more so by reason of the swelling caused by the blows that the ruffianly priest had dealt me, and it was intolerably irksome to lie on the hard floor unable to change my position in the slightest degree. So unbearable did the suffering become that, as hour after hour passed, I began to long for the return of my tormentors, although I felt that their arrival would be the signal for the infliction of new tortures the very thought of which made me shiver with horror.
For there was now no doubt of the circumstantial truth of Almeida’s story. I had verified it step by step in every particular but one, and the time was drawing near when I should receive the last dreadful proof—when the awful secret of the cavern would be revealed to me.
At length, after what seemed a very eternity of misery, a faint flickering yellow light appeared on the roof and spread to the adjacent wall, and as it grew brighter the shadow of a man loomed vague and gigantic, gradually dwindling in size and growing more distinct as the light drew nearer, until there swept into my field of view a man carrying a clay dish on which was a conical heap of shea butter with a rush wick, forming a sort of primitive candle. He was accompanied by two others, in one of whom I recognised my acquaintance with the bandaged head.
The first man deposited the light on the floor beside me and the three fell to examining me attentively with a deal of talk and disputation; and their gestures made it easy for me to follow the gist of their discussion, which was as to whether or not my fetters required to be loosened. Two of the men were evidently in favour of slackening the cords, experience having, no doubt, taught them that when tight lashings are kept on a limb for more than a certain time, either mortification or incurable paralysis results; and as they pointed to my swollen hands and feet and the deep grooves in the flesh in which the cords were embedded, they appeared to be explaining this to my old enemy, who, for his part, was manifestly unwilling that I should be allowed even this relief. The more reasonable and humane councils, however, prevailed and one of the men set about making the change.
My feet were first dealt with.
The tight cord lashings having been cut through, a long strand of grass rope was wound round each ankle, securely but not uncomfortably tightly, and tied, and the two anklets thus formed were connected by a short length of cord. My feet were in this manner fastened together quite firmly but without any painful or injurious ligature. The same process was applied to my wrists, which were brought together in front of my body with a play of about two inches between them, and this was a great relief after having them tied closely to my sides for so many hours.
When this welcome change had been made, one of the men produced a calabash with half a dozen meal balls in it, and a very small pot of water; but my hands were too numbed from the pressure of the cords to allow me to either feed myself or take up the water jar, so the man placed the calabash and jar on the ground by my side, and having tied the halter, which still remained round my neck, to a large peg in the ground, so that I could not sit up, they went away, taking the light with them.
I observed now that the red glow was no longer visible upon the roof, and when the fetish-men with their light were gone, the place in which I lay was enveloped in total darkness. The hum of conversation continued, but the sounds indicative of labour had ceased, and I judged that the workers were settling down to rest.
After a time the talking ceased, and then a confused sound of snoring and heavy breathing told me that the other occupants of the cavern were asleep.
The numbness of my hands and feet gave place by degrees to a most intolerable tingling, but it was a long time before I could move my fingers in the smallest degree. Still it was an immense relief to have my arms partly free and to be able to draw my knees up and turn over on my side; so I rejoiced in my comparative freedom, changing my position frequently, and vigorously chafing my hands between my knees in the hope of regaining sensation and the power of movement.
For a long time I was unsuccessful in this, and my hands continued to be, to all appearance, quite lifeless except for the intense and painful tingling; but at last some signs of returning animation became evident in a slight power of stiff movement in the fingers and a certain amount of dull sensation, giving me the feeling of having thick gloves on my hands.
As I was suffering from intense thirst I now reached out for the water jar, and conveying it carefully to my lips, drained it to the last drop of the earthy-smelling water it contained. I then addressed myself to the meal balls, which I found gritty and tasteless but very acceptable nevertheless—so much so that I swept my fingers round the empty calabash quite regretfully when I had finished the last one.
Being thus refreshed with food and drink I endeavoured to compose myself for sleep, but the novel and alarming circumstances in which I found myself were not by any means conducive to slumber. It was impossible to banish, even for a moment, from my mind the consciousness of my awful situation, or to lose sight of the terrible prospect that lay before me in the immediate future. The reflection that my misfortune was of my own deliberate seeking, so far from comforting me, but aggravated my wretchedness, and I found myself again and again cursing the perverse folly that had sent me on this fool’s errand. I could not help thinking, too, with bitter self-reproach, of the suffering that I should cause to those whom I loved so dearly, by my insane foolhardiness. My imagination pictured Isabel waiting and watching for news of me, and growing ever more anxious as the months rolled by and I made no sign. Of the painful suspense and growing dread that she and her father would feel, as doubts as to my safety merged into the conviction that some dreadful misfortune had overtaken me, and of the life-long, haunting grief that would pursue them, when I did not come back, and they would think of me—only too truly—as a maimed and miserable wretch dragging out an existence of unvarying woe, with nothing to hope for but the merciful stroke of an executioner’s sword.
These gloomy reflections were interrupted by the appearance of a dim light on the roof above me, and, as I was no longer unable to move, I turned over to see whence it came. A shaft of light was falling into the cavern from some opening that I could not see, but presumably the entrance, and it grew rapidly brighter. Presently a party of eight men entered the cavern, the foremost of whom carried a flaring palm oil lamp swinging from a chain, while another bore an earthen pot from which a stick projected. None of these men wore any special garb, but I recognised among them the priests who had brought me from the camp and those who had visited me in the cavern, including the ruffian with the bandaged head.
By the light of the lamp I could make out to some extent the nature of the place that I was in. I could see that it was a large chamber or gallery, of no great width, but stretching away into undistinguishable gloom in the one direction that was visible to me; that its walls and low roof were of the rough rock, that it was divided by massive piers consisting of unexcavated portions of the rock, and that the ceiling was in places strengthened by great beams, which were supported by thick timber posts.
I obtained, too, flickering, uncertain glimpses of the objects that it contained, such as copper buckets standing here and there and piles of bowl-like calabashes; but my attention was more particularly attracted by the prostrate forms of my fellow prisoners, who lay about the floor in every attitude of weariness and repose. Poor wretches! they were at least unconscious. Perhaps some of them were even happy at that moment, living over again, in the shadowy land of dreams, the life of joyous freedom that they knew, while yet their eyes could look upon the light of heaven, and their ears were familiar with the murmur of trees and the voices of those they loved.
They were objects of interest to the priests as well as to me, for the sinister-looking band had evidently made this visit for the purpose of examining the sleeping captives. I watched them curiously as they stepped stealthily among the sleepers, lowering the lamp to let its light glare upon the sightless, unconscious faces, and gathering round like a pack of obscene carrion-seeking ghouls. They visited each prisoner by turn, and held a whispered consultation over each, and some question was evidently put to the white-headed villain who presided over this diabolical committee, for, as he shook his head, the party moved away to a fresh prisoner.
After they had inspected half a dozen of the prisoners they came to one over whom they consulted longer than usual, and eventually the old priest nodded his head. Then the man who carried the earthen pot took from it the stick, which appeared to be covered at its lower end with white paint of some kind, and with it made a mark on each of the shoulders of the sleeping man, and the procession moved on to the next prisoner.
I watched for a long time the little band of fetish-men flitting about from one sleeping form to another. Sometimes they were hidden from me by one of the great piers of rock, and then by the unsteady light I scrutinised the strange interior and the dimly-seen forms of the unconscious slaves. At one time our visitors retired to such a distance down the gallery that I could see nothing from the alcove or recess in which I lay but the glare of the lamp twinkling in the darkness like some red and lurid star; but presently they came back, having apparently made the round of the prisoners, and approached the place where I was lying.
As they appeared to be coming to inspect me, I closed my eyes and simulated sleep, and soon the glare of the light through my eyelids and the sound of muttered conversation told me that the examination was in progress.
The consultation over me was long and earnest and, although I spoke hardly a word of the Ochwi or Ashanti language, I could make out that they were debating as to who and what I was; and I gathered that they were not far from the truth, for, when someone suggested “Fulani” (Fulah), another voice, which sounded within a few inches of my face, replied very positively, “Broni, Broni” (white man), and with this the others seemed to agree.
I was very curious to know if I was to be among those distinguished by the white marking, and held myself prepared to receive it without starting; but at length the light grew fainter on my eyelids and the voices receded, and, when I opened my eyes, the party was retreating towards the entrance, where it vanished, leaving the cavern once more in total darkness.
I pondered long over this mysterious visitation and what it might portend.
That it boded no good to those eight or nine men who had been distinguished by the white markings I had little doubt, but what its meaning could be I was unable to conjecture, and I was still speculating upon the subject when, in spite of my mental anxiety and bodily discomfort, I fell asleep.
CHAPTER XV.
THE ABOASI MINE.
When I opened my eyes I appeared to be in absolute darkness, and for a moment I could not remember where I was, but on attempting to move my hands, their manacled condition at once recalled me to my situation. A glance upward showed me the dim red glow upon the roof, and when I turned over I looked upon a scene so strange and unreal that it might well have been but part of a dream.
Before I had slept I had seen the cavern as it appeared during the hours of rest; I now saw it in what I supposed to be its ordinary working aspect.
As I looked forth from my alcove I gazed into a formless expanse of gloom, in which shapes of deeper shadow moved to and fro. At what seemed to be the centre of the cavern was a single spot of light, and round this the strange lurid picture was grouped, and from this it gradually faded away on all sides into a black void. This one spot of light was an opening in the floor, and through it there streamed up a bright glow, as if from an underground furnace, which being reflected from the roof, lighted up the floor for several yards around quite brilliantly.
Within the lighted area were several figures, some standing against the light mere silhouettes of black, others with the glow of the furnace falling on them, looking like statues of burnished copper, and all naked, cadaverous and horrible. One man crouched over the mouth of the furnace and probed about it with a pair of tongs; another sat on the floor at a little distance and worked a couple of sheep-skins that served as bellows. A third was filling a broad crucible with some substance that he took from a bowl-shaped calabash; and several were dimly visible in the background washing, by means of similar calabashes, some deposit that they dipped out of copper buckets, while they tipped the water into other vessels.
I could distinguish at intervals the sound of hammering, and looking about for its source, I made out the dim shape of a figure crouching in the shadow of one of the piers, beating out something on a flat stone. Presently he rose and walked over to the furnace with his hammer and a pair of tongs in one hand, and in the other one of those unjoined rings, known as manillas, which the Africans use as standard quantities of metal. He had apparently just finished the manilla, which was of gold, and had come for fresh material.
I watched him with curious interest as he stood in the light of the furnace, a tall, lean, but powerful figure with the tribal marks of the Moshi nation clearly visible on his skeleton face, and wondered how he came into his present condition; for the Moshi are among the most fierce and warlike of the inland tribes, and it was strange to see one of these bold and turbulent people meekly hammering out manillas for a parcel of pagan slave owners. The man who tended the furnace proceeded with his labours, while the Moshi stood by, grim and sullen, following the process by his ear.
The plan followed here was, evidently, first to melt down in crucibles the washings from the calabashes, and then to remelt the buttons of gold so obtained and cast the metal into bars, which were made into manillas. I was now able to watch the latter process, for the furnace man lifted out with his tongs a white-hot crucible, smaller than the one I had seen being filled, and laid it down while he felt about the floor until he found a brick-shaped block of clay. This was evidently the mould, for he now removed the lid from the crucible, and taking it up with his tongs, poured the molten metal into a cavity in the block. The Moshi then, having found the block by feeling about with his foot, turned it over, when a small bar of gold dropped out on to the floor. This he picked up with his tongs, and retreated to his place in the shadow of the pier, whence there immediately came the sound of hammering.
I was watching the furnace man prepare a fresh crucible when a light became visible from the direction of the entrance, and then two men came into view, each carrying a dish with a large shea-butter candle burning on it.
With this increase of light I was able to see fresh details, and workers whose existence had been made evident by sound only, now came into view. Thus I could see two men engaged in working designs in repoussé on small square gold plates, and another apparently modelling some diminutive object in wax—probably one of the wax models from which gold ornaments are cast—and my attention was so much taken up by these that I did not at first notice that the two men who bore the light were followed by several other persons. Presently, however, the light-bearers halted to examine the contents of a calabash in which a slave was washing the gold-bearing deposit, and then the others came up, and I saw that all the fetish-men who had visited the cavern were present and were accompanied by three strangers.
These latter at once riveted my attention.
They were dressed in handsome Kumasi cloths, or ntamas, of silk, and carried short heavy swords in leopard-skin sheaths; but the most remarkable feature was their hair, which was worked up into close sausage-like ringlets that hung round their necks in a fringe, and gave them a singularly uncouth and forbidding appearance.
I regarded these strangers with the utmost horror, for I knew that this peculiar head-dress is the official badge of the royal executioners of Ashanti, and the scene I had witnessed a few hours previously began to have a new and shocking significance.
I looked round to see if I could distinguish any of the prisoners who bore on their shoulders the fatal white mark, but the light was not sufficiently strong; but even as I looked, the horrid business commenced.
The executioners, evidently familiar with their duties, separated and began to examine the prisoners one by one, and as each marked victim was discovered he was led to a place some distance away from me and stood against a pier, where soon was collected quite a little party of the poor wretches who were thus entering upon the closing scene of their life’s tragedy.
But my attention was soon diverted very violently from these to my own concerns, for the fetish-men, bringing one of the lights with them, came and gathered round me with a dreadful air of business, and I now perceived that one of them carried a coil of stout grass rope, while another—my old enemy in fact—held in his hand an implement, at the sight of which I grew sick with horror.
It was a small iron bar, set in a wooden handle, and was flattened at the end, where it was bent over to form a sharp hook.
Without a word being spoken they set to work.
One of the men sat down upon my knees completely fixing my legs, another knelt at my head, and taking it between his knees leaned with his entire weight on my forehead, while two others sat astride upon my body, confining my arms and nearly suffocating me. Then the man with the rope passed the end under my shoulders, and was just about to draw a coil round my chest and arms, when a loud shouting arose from the further part of the cavern.
The man at my head stood up with an exclamation, and I involuntarily turned my face in the direction of the noise.
The tall Moshi was struggling in the grasp of one of the executioners, who was not strong enough to hold him, and both were shouting vociferously.
Suddenly the Moshi dragged his assailant forward a couple of paces, and stooping quickly, snatched up his hammer, and, in a twinkling, brought it down with a crash on the head of the executioner, who dropped in a heap on the floor. Then the Moshi, with a fiendish yell, rushed off, brandishing his hammer and hitting out at everyone whom he came in contact with, and, before one had time to draw a breath, he had felled two of the prisoners and was charging straight for the condemned group, flourishing his hammer and bellowing like an enraged bull. The men who were holding me, leaped to their feet and, catching up the light, they all ran off, with the exception of one who remained standing by my side.
The disturbance rapidly began to assume alarming proportions, for the Moshi, charging in among the condemned men, dealt them such blows with his hammer that those who were not killed outright or stunned, became infuriated with rage and pain, and fell upon one another with fists and teeth until the cavern rang with their yells. They became like a pack of frightened wild beasts, running hither and thither, attacking indiscriminately everyone they came near.
The other prisoners, too, alarmed by the screams and shouts, came running from every part of the cavern, and being in their turn attacked, joined in the infernal medley.
Thus the executioners and fetish-men unexpectedly found themselves involved in a seething mob of furious maniacs, all clawing, biting and tearing at one another, and growing every moment more furious and wildly excited; and to increase the confusion, the two lights were trampled underfoot and the place—except for the glow of the furnace—became wrapped in darkness.
I watched these developments with growing excitement. Already the fetish-men, unable for the time to restore order, were on the defensive, and had all their attention occupied in looking to their own safety, while the man who stood over me was clearly becoming anxious, for he drew a large knife or cutlass from its sheath and played with it nervously as if doubtful whether or not he should go to his comrades’ assistance.
The sight of the knife in his hand roused me to action. Reaching out my fettered hands I suddenly grasped his ankles and jerked his feet from under him, and as he came down flat on his back, his head struck the hard floor with the sound of a pavior’s hammer. I dragged his unconscious body towards me and searched for the knife, which I found sticking in his back; for he had dropped it as he fell, and fallen upon it with such force that its point stood two inches out at the front of his chest.
I pulled the knife out, and, jamming its wet and slippery haft between my knees, sawed through the rope that bound my hands together. With my hands free I soon cut through the cord that confined my feet, and the halter by which I was tethered to the peg, and then I rose to my feet and stretched my stiffened limbs.
The fetish-men and the executioners were by this time thoroughly panic-stricken, and I could see them, by the dim, red glow, struggling frantically to free themselves from the surging crowd which hemmed them in. I stole softly to one of the piers and stood by it, knife in hand, ready to defend myself if anyone should come my way, and surveyed this astonishing scene of slaughter.
One after another the fetish-men dropped, stabbed with their own weapons or felled by the hammer of the furious Moshi, whose gaunt form could be seen in the middle of the crowd like that of some avenging demon. The untended furnace died down by degrees until its glow faded away and the place was plunged into total darkness, and the swaying mass of shadowy figures grew more and more shadowy and dim until they vanished into utter obscurity.
And out of that black inferno came a din so awful that I shuddered as I listened. Howls of rage, shrieks of terror, and yells of agony, mingled in such a soul-shaking concert as might have belched up from the very mouth of Hell; and above it all rose the infuriate bellowing of the Moshi and the rhythmical thud of his hammer.
I stood rooted to the ground and fairly quaking with horror as scream after scream rang out through the darkness and told of the murderous work that was going on. Suddenly a great tongue of fire rose out of the floor and filled the cavern with a lurid glare. Someone had kicked one of the big candles into the furnace, and the melted oil had burst into flame.
And what a scene its light shone upon!
The floor was strewn with prostrate forms, some distorted and still, others yet writhing and clutching at one another, and all dabbled with blood. The few survivors were gathered into a crowd and locked together in the most inextricable confusion; and, as they swayed backward and forward, they fought like wild beasts, holding on with fingers twined in one another’s hair, biting, scratching, and slashing indiscriminately with weapons that had been wrenched from the priests or the executioners.
The latter were all dead, and of the former but one remained—the man with the bandaged head—and he was on the outskirts of the crowd, struggling, with staring eyeballs, to free himself from the grasp of two of the prisoners; and at length he tore himself away, leaving his tattered cloth in the hands of his assailants, and rushed off towards the entrance.
But I was after him in an instant, and pursued him down the length of the gallery, slowly gaining on him.
Near the foot of a rude ladder he paused and looked over his shoulder, and when he saw me, he uttered a loud shriek and turned to fly up the ladder; but, before he could escape, I struck him so fairly on the back of the neck that his half-severed head fell forward on to his breast as he dropped.
I climbed the ladder and groped along the tunnel-like gallery at the top for some distance, but presently reflecting that the place was quite strange to me and that, having no light, I might fall into some shaft or well, or might walk right into the arms of my enemies, I turned back and felt my way cautiously towards the cavern.
The flame was not yet extinct when I got back and let myself down the ladder, though the glow was growing much fainter, and by its light I could see that the slaughter was nearly at an end, for two men only remained standing. One of these was the Moshi, who strode about hither and thither shouting, swinging his hammer, and battering at every prostrate body that he trod upon. The other was one of the slaves who had possessed himself of a long knife and was now hovering round with a stealthy ferocity that was very horrible to look at.
At the same moment the two men paused to listen, and each catching the sound of the other’s breathing, they rushed at one another, and while the one made a vicious thrust with his knife, the other aimed a blow with his hammer.
The knife entered the Moshi’s arm above the elbow, but the next instant the hammer crashed against his assailant’s temple, felling him to the ground. The Moshi burst into a wild shout, and leaped about among the bodies flourishing his hammer; but presently he stopped and listened, and, as I remained stock-still and hardly breathing, the place, which but a minute ago rang with such a furious din, was as silent as the grave.
Then a curious reaction set in in the mind of this fierce barbarian. The frenzy of bloodthirsty rage had time to cool, and the strange stillness evidently struck on him with a chill of fear, for he began to call out names—no doubt those of the slaves whose corpses lay around—and questions in the Ochwi language.
I still remained motionless and silent, for I feared that if I spoke he would mark my position and rush at me, and I had no wish to kill him and did not intend that he should kill me; but, as the flame was now rapidly dying out, I considered that if any fighting was to be done it had better be in what light remained, for so I had the advantage, whereas in the dark the advantage clearly lay with the blind man.
When, therefore, having received no reply to his question in Ochwi he asked in barbarous Hausa, “Is there no one here?” I replied, “Yes. There is one left.”
“Who art thou?” he demanded with fierce suspicion.
“I am the new prisoner who was brought here yesterday,” I answered.
“Have they blinded thee yet?” he asked.
“No,” said I. “They were about to put out my eyes when the fight began.”
“Where are all the others?” he inquired.
“They are lying all around, dead,” I answered.
“What!” he shouted. “Have they killed all the slaves but me?”
“Many of them thou didst kill thyself,” said I, “and as to the rest, they killed one another or were killed by the wizards.”
“Dost thou tell me that I have killed my friends?” he exclaimed in a tone of horrified surprise. “I thought it was the wizards and the men of Kumasi with whom I was fighting, and now thou sayest I have killed my comrades. This is a dreadful thing!” and to my surprise he burst into loud weeping, tearing at his hair and beating his breast with his clenched fist.
I took the opportunity to pick up the remaining candle and drop it into the furnace, for I had no mind to be left in the darkness with this unstable, excitable savage.
“And where are the wizards and the Kumasi men?” he asked presently.
“They are all dead,” said I. “Their bodies lie around thee.”
He broke out again into boisterous blubbering lamentations.
“All gone,” he moaned, “and thou tellest me I have killed them—have killed my brothers who have worked by my side this long, long time. Why should I not die, too? Come, my friend, take a knife and kill me so that I may rest among my friends.”
“This is folly,” said I, for I felt that time was too precious to be wasted on maudlin lamentation. “The others are dead and we are alive. Let me bind up thy arm, and then let us begone from this accursed place.”
I tore off a strip of cloth from the garment of one of the dead fetish-men, and bound up his bleeding arm as well as I could.
“Now,” I said, “thou knowest this place better than I. How shall we go?”
“We cannot get out by the entrance,” he answered, “for the houses of the wizards are there, and we shall be taken as soon as we come out.”
This was manifestly true, and was as I had expected; but some move would have to be made without delay, for more of the fetish-men or their armed followers might arrive at any moment.
“Is there any other way out?” I asked.
“That I know not,” he replied. “There is a passage that I can show thee, but where it ends I cannot tell; only I know that some of the slaves have gone away through it, but they have always been brought back after a time, excepting two.”
“And what of them?”
“They never came back from the passage, but whether they escaped, or died in their hiding-places, we never knew. It was a long time ago.”
I considered a moment and decided to explore the passage, for if, after all, there was no way out through it we should be no worse off. We could still try the entrance.
“Where is this passage?” I inquired.
“Show me the furnace,” said he.
I put his foot against the rim of the furnace mouth, and he groped round among the corpses until he felt the bellows; then he stood up and walked off confidently, and I followed. He walked straight to a post of timber, and having felt it, turned and made for the wall.
“It is hereabouts,” he said, and, raising his arms, began to feel along the wall; and when I examined the spot as well as I could in the half darkness, I could make out a shape of deeper shadow about seven feet from the ground.
“Here it is,” I said. “Stand thou there and let me climb on thy shoulders and I will pull thee up after.”
“Thou wilt go and leave me behind,” he exclaimed suspiciously.
“Then climb on my shoulders and go first,” said I, for I knew he would not go off by himself; and setting my arms against the wall I planted my feet firmly.
He climbed up actively enough on to my shoulders, gave a spring and was gone, and the next moment I felt his hand reaching down for me; but in spite of his help I was quite unable to get up the slippery wall, and, after a number of fruitless struggles, was beginning to think of abandoning the attempt and making a dash for the entrance, when I remembered the coil of rope that the fetish-men had brought to bind me. Bidding the Moshi wait for me, I ran across the cavern, lighted by the now fading flare from the furnace, and found the coil lying in my alcove. Returning to the opening, I passed up the two ends to my companion, who now hauled me up without difficulty.
The passage in which we now found ourselves was a kind of tunnel about four feet high, and, of course, pitch dark; and my companion being more at home in these conditions than I, led the way. We crawled along on hands and knees for a long distance until, at length, my comrade called out that the part that we had entered was higher, and I then stood up; but our progress was slower walking than crawling, for we had—or at least my companion had—to make sure of the ground before each step, lest we should fall into some shaft or pit. So we groped our way along for an apparently interminable distance until at last, to my joy, I perceived, a long way ahead, a faint spot of light. I informed my companion of this, but he seemed quite incredulous.
“It cannot be,” he said, “for if there is an opening here, how could it be that the slaves were unable to get away?”
I did not think it worth while to argue the question, but groped on hopefully. The light grew gradually brighter, although still but a dim reflection on the wall of the tunnel, but presently a turn showed the end of the passage distinctly a long distance ahead, and evidently not opening into the outer world but into some chamber or gallery lighted by daylight.
We now quickened our pace, and soon emerged into a very singular cavern or chamber.
It was roughly circular in plan, about fifteen yards across and thirty or forty feet high, the walls gradually approaching towards the top, where there was an irregular-shaped opening through which I could see masses of foliage and a single spot of sky. The sides were of the rough rock, not cut away as in the other cavern, but quite irregular and broken, like the face of a cliff, with deep hollows and large projecting bosses; but very little of the original surface could be seen, for a dense covering of moss encrusted the whole of the sides and floor, and out of this tiny, delicate, pale-green ferns sprang, while the darker corners harboured clusters of toadstools, mostly snowy-white.
Altogether there was in the aspect of the place something singularly suggestive of the unnoticed passage of time, and of solitude long undisturbed; such as one remarks on entering some ancient tomb, outside which the centuries have rolled on, while the dust has slowly deposited on the unchanging monuments of the forgotten dead within. But it was not the general appearance of the place alone that bore this suggestiveness, for the objects that it contained were yet more fraught with an air of mouldy antiquity, and these riveted my attention from the moment that my eyes fell upon them.
On one side, close to the wall, reposed a great chest of age-blackened odúm wood, evidently of native workmanship, despite the elaborate carving on its front, which, indeed, had it been seen under other conditions, would have stamped it as European in origin; for the central device showed a rudely executed square of drapery on which was a grotesque face.
But the model from which it had been copied stood opposite—a smaller coffer of jet-black mahogany in the last stage of decay, on the front of which could yet be distinguished a carving of the Holy Handkerchief of St. Veronica surmounted by the initials “J de S,” and flanked by the date “1489.”
Each chest bore on its lid a collection of skulls arranged with great precision, the larger chest having sixteen skulls in a double row, and the smaller chest having nine in a single row; and, even to my inexpert eye, it was easy—seeing them thus in groups—to perceive a difference in type, the skulls upon the smaller chest being obviously less massive than the others, and having much less projecting jaws and smaller teeth.
As I noted these differences I understood in a flash what place this was in which I stood. It was the cavity caused by the caving in of the tunnel in which the old Portuguese adventurers had been surprised by the natives; and these skulls, which grinned at one another from the lids of the two coffers, were the remains of the men who had been overwhelmed amidst the explosions of those antique guns some four hundred years ago, disinterred from the rubbish of the fallen roof Heaven knows when, and reverently set out to confront one another in death as they had done in life.
“What seest thou in this place?” asked Bukári—for such I had ascertained was my companion’s name.
I told him of the two great chests and the skulls upon them.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Then this is the treasure chamber of the Tano abúsum. This is where the wizards hoard the gold that we poor wretches have toiled to win from the bottom of the pool, and that the hypocrites pretend to give to the Osai of Kumasi. Let us open the chests and see if it be not so.”
“No, no,” said I. “Let the chests go for the present—perchance they are empty after all—and let us get out of this trap if we can. Doubtless they are searching for us even now.”
This suggestion so alarmed Bukári that he instantly forgot the treasure and begged me to search for a means of escape.
I examined the place narrowly, and was somewhat dismayed to find no trace of an outlet. The tunnel by which we had come had at one time been continued on the opposite side of the chamber, and its opening was still visible; but it was completely closed with masses of rock and rubbish. Doubtless when this chamber was re-excavated, the debris of the fallen roof had been cleared away into the further tunnel, which was now consequently filled up. I walked round and round the chamber, peering into every dark corner, and glanced wistfully up at the opening overhead, where the green leaves were rustling so tantalisingly; but there seemed no more chance of escape than if we had been at the bottom of a well.
Presently I began to consider whether it might not be possible to climb up the rugged side and reach the opening. It certainly did not look very feasible, but I determined to make the attempt, so, selecting a part of the wall that presented the greatest number of projections, I began the ascent, while Bukári kept guard over the tunnel, listening intently for the footsteps of pursuers.
With a good deal of difficulty I managed to climb up a distance of some fifteen feet, but beyond this ascent was impossible, for the wall began to slope smoothly outwards. I clung to a knob of quartz that projected from the rock and turned my head to see if anything was visible from this height that could not be seen from the floor; and when I did so my heart leaped with joy and hope, for directly opposite me was the dark opening of a tunnel which had been hidden from below by a projecting boss of rock.
Perhaps my rejoicing was premature, for the tunnel was nearly twenty feet from the floor and had, as I have said, below it a great projection; but it looked like a way out and was, in any case, a safe hiding-place, so I scrambled down, resolved to reach it or break my neck in the attempt. Bukári was highly elated when I told him of my discovery, and encouraged me with the suggestion that the slaves who disappeared might have escaped that way; so, throwing round my neck the coil of rope (which I had prudently brought with me) I commenced to clamber up the face of the wall under the projection.
As I worked my way up, inch by inch, I always seemed to have reached the very highest point that was possible, and as I clung, with my fingers hooked in the treacherous moss, and my toes lodged on some almost invisible projection, I looked up at the space that yet remained above me with a feeling of despair. And yet, inch by inch, with incredible labour, I crept up, slowly reducing the space, until, at length, I came to the promontory that projected forward like some great bracket or corbel. To scale this seemed an utter impossibility, for it stood out above my head with its surface at an angle of nearly thirty degrees from the vertical, and it looked as if I must fail after all within a few feet of safety.
After a brief rest I now began to edge away to one side, and in this way was able to hoist myself upwards two or three feet, but in a direction slanting somewhat away from the opening of the tunnel. Still, it was something to attain a higher level, and I crept on, streaming with perspiration and faint from the want of food, digging my fingers into the moss and taking advantage of every cranny and projecting crystal of quartz, until at last my eyes came on to the level of the floor of the tunnel.
But the tunnel was now several feet away to my left, and to reach it I must cling somehow to the overhanging rock.
The thing seemed impracticable, but yet each time I changed my foothold or the grip of my bruised and aching fingers, I came somehow a little nearer, until my shoulders overhung my feet by two or three inches. At length I lodged one hand on the edge of the tunnel floor and could look into the dark cavity; then I shifted the other hand so that it gripped the corner of the opening. After a moment’s rest I managed to slide my left hand a little along the floor until it caught a projecting stone, and letting go with my right, quickly slipped it on to the same projection. Here I remained fixed, with my arms reached into the opening, and one foot holding on to a clump of moss with the toes, while with the other foot I felt about vainly for a new foothold.
Suddenly I felt my foot slipping from the moss, while the other slid down the smooth rock. At the risk of flinging myself away from the wall I gave a violent kick, digging my toes into the moss, and at the same moment tugged with all my might at the stone in the tunnel floor; and, as my legs flew from under me, I dragged my head and shoulders and chest into the opening.
I was now in an apparently hopeless position, lying across the sill of the opening with my legs dangling over the edge of the projecting rock, more than half of my body outside the tunnel, and only prevented from overbalancing outwards by my grip on the stone in the floor. Thus I remained for some minutes fixed and helpless; but at length, by dint of cautious wriggling and pulling steadily at the stone I dragged myself forward until I was able to hitch one knee over the sill. Then I crawled bodily into the tunnel and sat down with my back against the wall to get my breath.
But there was no time for rest. Our pursuers might appear at any moment, and it was necessary to get my companion out of the treasure chamber—if such it was—without delay. I uncoiled the rope, and on lowering it over the edge, found that, if I held both ends, the bight, or loop, would just touch the ground. I called out to Bukári to know if he could climb up by the aid of the rope, and on his replying very readily that he could, I directed him how to find the hanging bight. He listened intently at the tunnel for a moment, and then crossing the chamber, according to my directions, felt about for the rope; and when he grasped it he planted his feet against the wall and came up hand over hand with surprising agility, while I held on with my feet fixed against the stone.
As soon as he stood beside me, I gathered up the rope and coiled it round my neck, and without more delay we started off down the tunnel, Bukári leading as before.
This gallery extended a considerable distance, but we had not gone very far when I caught a faint glimmer of light, and presently, on rounding an angle, I saw before me a very small spot a long way off, the dazzling brightness of which left me in no doubt as to its being actual daylight. I communicated this discovery to Bukári, and we trudged along very hopefully, the light growing stronger every moment; and soon I could distinguish a mass of foliage waving to and fro across the opening. At last we came to the mouth of the tunnel, which, I was astonished to find, opened on to the face of a cliff, the foliage that I had seen being the topmost bough of a great odúm tree that grew at its foot. The cliff, however, was not so steep as to present any considerable difficulty in the descent, and its face was covered with large bushes, by which one could easily climb down to the level.
Bukári and I sat in the mouth of the tunnel, breathing in the soft sweet air—so different from the foul and noisome atmosphere of the mine—and talked over the situation. As to the geography of the mine, he knew nothing about it, but it seemed quite evident from the distance we had travelled since leaving the slaves’ cavern, that the entire range of tunnels passed right through a hill, and that we were on the opposite side to that in which the entrance was situated. The tunnel that we had just traversed was most probably an ancient working that had become separated from the rest of the mine when the gallery caved in, and its existence was almost certainly unknown to the fetish-men. Probably also the cliff on which it now opened had been formed by a landslip, and its original opening may have been upon a shelving hillside. At any rate, it formed a safe refuge for the present, where we could consider at leisure what our next move was to be.
But we could not give too much time to our deliberations, for the first question—and a very pressing one, too—was, where we were to obtain some food? Neither Bukári nor I had eaten a morsel since the previous day, and we had gone through a prodigious amount of mental and bodily exertion, and my own diet just lately had been of the scantiest; so that whatever we might elect to do afterwards, it was imperative that we should obtain, somehow, something to eat.
But it was equally necessary that we should not lose sight of the tunnel, which was to be our place of refuge until we decided on our future proceedings, and as Bukári exacted from me a solemn promise that I would not leave him, we must devise some plan for finding our way back to it if we left it.
From our present situation I could see but little, for the opening of the gallery was somewhat lower than the tops of the larger trees that grew on the level, so I decided to ascend to the summit of the hill in order that I might see the lie of the land. This decision I communicated to Bukári, who at once strongly objected to the proposal, being evidently afraid that I should go off and leave him; but on my solemnly repeating my promise to stand by him, he reluctantly consented, and agreed to remain in the mouth of the tunnel, so that if I should fail to find it on my return—which was quite possible since the surrounding bushes, to a great extent, concealed it—he should be ready to answer my hail.
These matters being settled, I looked about for the easiest way up the face of the cliff, and, selecting a space to one side of the tunnel where the bushes grew most densely, began the ascent.
CHAPTER XVI.
I ASSIST IN A ROBBERY AND BECOME A FUGITIVE.
The ground, as I have said, was not difficult to climb, since the surface was not quite perpendicular, and besides being rough and broken, was thickly covered with vegetation; so that without any great exertion I soon reached the top of the cliff, and landed on to a nearly level space, which I took to be the summit of a hill. From this point the view was very extensive in the one direction, although it was cut off in the other by the forest which clothed the summit. Looking back—that is, in the direction in which the cliff faced—my eye ranged over the ocean-like expanse of forest, out of which, at a distance of about three miles, rose a solitary, conical hill, while nearer—in fact, quite near—could be seen a river of some size, which I took—erroneously as it turned out—to be the Tano.
Following the edge of the summit, I walked on, each few hundred yards bringing into view a new vista, until I had gone half a mile; when I could tell, from the direction of the shadows, that I had reached the opposite side of the hill. Here I could see below me a village of some pretensions immediately at the foot of the hill, and this I guessed to be the abode of the fetish-men, while at a distance of less than a mile another village was visible, which, by the large silk-cotton tree in the middle of an open space, I identified as the one to which I had been first taken—indeed, on looking carefully, I thought I could make out the very hut in which I had been confined.
Having thus made clear the position of our hiding place, I struck off across the middle of the summit, guiding myself towards my starting point by watching my shadow. I had travelled about half way when I came to a rather deep hollow occupying, as I judged, nearly the centre of the summit; and, as it lay directly in my path, I commenced to descend, and had nearly reached the bottom when I was brought up with a start by the sound of voices.
Instantly I crouched down among the thick herbage and listened. There seemed to be several persons talking, but although the voices sounded near, I could not for a time make out the direction from which they came; and a peculiar hollow but muffled quality in the sounds puzzled me not a little. Presently one of the speakers laughed—a strange, hollow laugh that reverberated as if it came from the bottom of a well—and then I perceived that the noise proceeded from underground.
On this I crept forward cautiously, and after crawling a few yards, saw before me a large hole in the earth. I lay down flat on my face and drew myself softly to the edge of the chasm, and putting my head into a mass of fern, peered down between the stems. As I had expected, I looked down into the chamber that I had recently left—and left none too soon; for it was now occupied by a party of six fetish-men, all armed with long knives and guns, and provided with a stinking palm oil lamp.
They were mightily excited, for they chattered and gesticulated like a pack of monkeys, and I would have given a good deal to know what they were saying. That they had missed Bukári and me I had no doubt, but whether or not they had traced our progress thus far I had no means of judging. On one point, however, and that the most important, I soon became satisfied; they clearly had no knowledge of the existence of the tunnel by which we had finally escaped.
After a good deal of talk and searching the corners of the chamber and the entrance to the filled up tunnel, they commenced to examine the chests, and I was now most thankful that I had not allowed Bukári to satisfy his curiosity; for I could see an old fetish man, who had been poring over the lid of the larger chest (which was immediately beneath me) pointing out to his fellows the undisturbed coating of dust on it.
In spite of this demonstration, however, they were not quite convinced apparently, for to my intense satisfaction they proceeded to remove the skulls one by one and place them at a little distance on the floor. When the top was clear, they knocked a wooden pin out of a rude hasp—the only fastening that the chest had—and raised the lid, resting it against the wall.
From my position immediately overhead I could look down straight into the chest, and the sight that met my gaze when the lid was flung back, filled me with amazement.
For that great coffer was filled almost to the top with gold. Gold masks of strange design, gold armlets, gold anklets, great dumbbell-like sword-hilts, head-plates and trinkets of which I could not distinguish the forms, were there by the score; but the great bulk of the metal was in the form of manillas—the African equivalent of ingots—of which there must have been hundreds, all tied up in bunches of a dozen or so.
Here, indeed, was “wealth beyond the dreams of avarice”!
As I looked down into the great chest I felt myself unconsciously gloating over its shining contents; and when the fetish-men, apparently satisfied of the safety of the treasure, closed the lid and drove in the pin, I was conscious of quite a chill of regret, until I suddenly remembered my condition; when I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of a naked, starving wretch like myself barely snatched from the jaws of death, and yet hankering after wealth.
When the priests had made the chest secure they replaced the skulls, and forthwith retired through the tunnel, having accomplished what was probably the principal object of their visit. The smaller chest they had not examined at all, and from this I judged that it contained nothing of intrinsic value—perhaps merely some mouldering relics of the old adventurers. When the last of the men had disappeared I drew myself carefully back on to the more solid ground, and resumed my journey across the little plateau.
In a few minutes I came out on to the edge a little to the right of the tunnel, as I could tell by comparing the positions of a large tree and the distant hill, and was about to turn when I noticed some objects moving, about a third of the way down the steep slope. I stopped to observe them, and was able to make out that they were vole-like animals about the size of rabbits, with blunt muzzles and short tails, and evidently lived in a large community in burrows in the hillside.
Zoophilists tell us that by nature man is a fruit-eating animal, which is possibly true—when there happens to be fruit to eat. At present, however, there was none, and the sight of those rodents frisking in and out of their burrows aroused in me a very pronounced carnivorous impulse. I had noticed on the plateau a great number of nodular lumps of iron-stone lying on the surface, and I now returned and gathered an armful of moderate-sized pieces, which I carried to the edge of the slope. Then I concealed myself behind a bush and waited.
Soon a little party of the rodents assembled on a small knoll immediately underneath, browsing on the herbage in leisurely security, all unconscious of the prowling carnivore above, until a lump of iron-stone about two pounds in weight dropped plump on to the back of one of them, rolling him over dead; when the parliament instantly dissolved, and I climbed down to gather up my spoil.
I had not been back in my hiding place many minutes when the foolish-looking brutes reappeared and began nibbling away at the grass as if nothing had happened, so that in quite a short time I was able to secure four of them, with which I started off for the tunnel very cheerfully.
Bukári was awaiting my return with the keenest anxiety, and reproached me for being so long absent.
“I thought thou hadst gone away altogether,” he grumbled. “Where hast thou been, and what hast thou found?”
“I have seen many strange things,” said I, “and I have found us a dinner,” and I put his hand upon the dead animals, which he felt with a grin of delight.
“Grass-cutters!” he exclaimed. “I have not tasted flesh since I came to the mine. Let us cook them at once, for I am famished.”
“How shall we cook them since we have no fire?” I asked.
He seemed greatly surprised at the question. “Why, then, we must make a fire, of course,” he replied.
This was a little embarrassing, for I had but the haziest notion of how to go about making a fire. I had, indeed, read in books of the fire-drill used by the Australian natives; but I had never tried to make one, and this was hardly a suitable occasion for amateur experiments. In our camp, the light had always been kindled by Musa, who had a flint and steel and kept a supply of tinder; without these appliances I was quite helpless, and had to admit the fact.
Bukári laughed grimly. “Get me a lump of quartz,” said he, “and a bit of dry bark from some dead wood, and gather some sticks. If thou canst get some clay, so much the better.”
I climbed up to the plateau, and soon found a dead branch, which I carried back bodily and handed it over to Bukári to strip of its bark, while I prised out a lump of quartz from the wall of the tunnel, and I then stood by to receive a lesson in the art of fire-making.
“Give me thy knife,” said Bukári, and on my handing it to him he struck its back skilfully a few times on the quartz, receiving the sparks on the prepared mass of bark, and blowing gently; and in a few minutes the bark was smouldering and smoking quite briskly.
There was no time to look for clay with which to coat the animals, so when the fire was fairly alight we fixed them over it, on long, pointed sticks, and sat by patiently while they frizzled in the smoke. To while away the interval—which was really a very trying one, for, when the hair had burnt off, the animals began to emit a most savoury aroma—I recounted to Bukári what I had seen when I looked down the opening into the chamber. He was violently excited, rather to my surprise, when I described the contents of the chest, and announced his intention of helping himself to some of the gold before finally leaving the mine.
The smoke-blackened carcases were not very agreeable to look at, but they furnished exceedingly good eating, and Bukári and I lingered over our cannibal-like repast until the bones were picked as clean as if they had been destined for some anatomical museum.
By this time the sun was getting low, so I made another journey to the plateau to gather wood for the night, and with what I had collected we made up a cheerful fire some distance down the tunnel, spreading a quantity of grass upon the floor that we might sleep in comfort.
Naturally, we were very tired after all our labours and excitements, and the food had made us rather drowsy, but we sat on our beds talking over our plans for a long time before we lay down to sleep.
We agreed on the necessity for getting away from the neighbourhood of the mine without delay—indeed, we were running no small risk by staying so long in the tunnel—but on one point Bukári was resolved; he would not leave the place until he had possessed himself of some of the gold.
I could not help admiring his bold adventurous spirit, unbroken by the long years of suffering and servitude, but at the same time his obstinacy was highly inconvenient, for any attempt to remove the treasure would enormously increase the danger of our situation, which was already sufficiently perilous.
“Why not leave the gold where it is?” I urged. “We know where to find it whenever we choose to come back.”
“We know where it is now,” he replied, “but the wizards may take it elsewhere. Thou didst see thyself that they were uneasy and fearful about it. They may put it in some safer place.”
I could not deny the truth of this; it was in fact highly probable that the priests would now look out for some more secure hiding-place for their treasure.
“How much dost thou wish to take?” I asked.
“I would take it all,” he replied.
“What!” I exclaimed. “Take it all! Thou art mad, Bukári. Why, there is more than thirty men could carry, and we are but two.”
“I know it,” he answered calmly. “We could not carry it all away, but what I would do is this. I would take out the gold and bury it in a safe place, where I would make a mark to find it again by. Then I would go to my country and tell my brothers of what I had done, and they should come to this country as if to buy guru, and when they had bought the guru at Juabin, they should come back this way, dig up the gold, and take it to my country.”
“Why bury the gold?” I asked. “Why not leave it in the tunnel. Nobody seems to know of the existence of this passage.”
“Who knows?” he answered. “Perhaps some hunters may know of this place and come here to sleep in the rains; besides, thinkest thou that the wizards, when they miss their treasure, will not search every place? They have only to bring a ladder to the treasure chamber to find this tunnel, and then all our labour would be in vain.”
I could not deny that Bukári’s reasoning was sound, that is, if one admitted the desirability of meddling with the treasure at all; and as I have already admitted, the sight of the gold had aroused my own cupidity to no small extent. Moreover the treasure had really been the object of my quest from the first, although I had never dreamed of laying my hands upon the actual hoard, so, in the end I fell in with the Moshi’s plan, and agreed to commence lifting the treasure at daybreak on the morrow.