Part 14 (2/2)
The signals exchanged between those on the lofty summit of the insurmountable barrier, and my friend Omar were long, and, to me tedious.
I could make nothing of them, although it was apparent that my old chum was carrying on an interesting conversation with some person unseen. Once again the light swept across the silent battle-field, showing, as if with justifiable pride, the wholesale slaughter that had been there committed by the defenders, and again fell full upon the son of the dreaded Naya.
Then it flashed quickly many times and suddenly disappeared.
Omar seemed at last satisfied, for, holding the brand before him, he took from the tiny bag around his neck a pinch of the magic powder that was included in his jujus, and p.r.o.nouncing words that conveyed some mystical meaning, slowly let the powder fall into the flickering flame, causing it to hiss and splutter.
He was sacrificing to the fetish for our deliverance from the perils of the Way of the Thousand Steps. Even as he stood performing this pagan rite, there sounded afar off a dull, low boom like the distant report of heavy cannon. It echoed weirdly along the valley where all was quiet and at rest, and was three times repeated, like some ominous voice of warning.
Omar heard it. Surely the noise was an unexpected one, for it instantly filled him with apprehension, and he listened attentively, little dreaming that I also was his companion upon this strange midnight vigil.
CHAPTER XVII.
A SALUTE OF BULLETS.
THE low booming was, however, not repeated, and by this my companion apparently became rea.s.sured, for shortly afterwards he threw himself down near me to s.n.a.t.c.h a few hours' repose before dawn. I suppose I, too, must have slept for some time, until suddenly a noise like thunder that seemed to cause the earth to tremble awakened me, and together with the rest of our party I sprang to my feet, fancying that some terrible earthquake had occurred.
It was still dark, and as each asked breathlessly of his neighbour the cause of the deafening noise a sudden red flash showed for an instant on the summit of the rock near where I had seen the light, and a second report thundered forth, making the valley echo and startling the birds in thousands from their roosting-places.
”We are attacked!” the natives cried. ”It is a gun!”
It was a gun undoubtedly. Again it belched forth, its fire causing the earth to tremble, sending some small shots unpleasantly close, and striking terror into the hearts of our companions, who started to fly for safety, expecting each moment that a shower of lead would sweep upon them.
”Stay, cowards!” Omar cried. ”Yonder gun fires not with anger, but with joy. It is my welcome home; its fire is but powder play!”
Then a loud, joyous laugh arose, and the black faces broadened into great grins, displaying red lips and white teeth.
”Truly the land of the great Naya is a land of wonders!” cried Kona, in astonishment. ”Here they welcome the queen's son by shooting at him.
Surely those shots a moment ago were more than powder play!”
”A mistake no doubt,” Omar answered laughing. ”Already it is known in Mo that we are here in the Grave of Enemies, and the guns are being fired as welcome, while steps are being taken to convey us into yonder land.”
”How shall we be conveyed thither?” the headman asked, looking up puzzled at the bare face of the rock, the summit of which was now obscured by a bank of cloud.
”Wait until sun-rise. Then you will see,” answered my friend mysteriously, and as he spoke the blood-red flash showed again and the great gun thundered forth its salute.
While the dawn was spreading we ate our morning meal with eyes fixed upon the great high crag whence the gun belched forth with monotonous regularity; then Omar and I strolled away together further up the valley to occupy our time until the sun-rise. Here I saw for the first time that natural curiosity, the honey-bird. Omar pointed it out to me. It was a little grey common-looking bird about the size of a thrush. It first forced itself upon our notice by flying across our path, uttering a shrill, unlovely cry. It then sat on a neighbouring tree still calling and waiting for us to follow. By short rapid flights the bird led us on and on till we noticed that it stopped its onward course and was hanging about among a certain half-dozen trees. These we visited one after another and carefully examined them, our search being rewarded by finding a nest of bees in each of them. It is a matter of honour with the natives to set aside a good portion of the honey for the bird. Although this action of the honey-bird is an established fact in natural history, it would be interesting to know whether he ever tries to entice quadrupeds also in a.s.sisting him in obtaining his much-loved honey.
As we walked back to the camp the sun suddenly broke forth, the clouds rolled away, and on looking up at the point where the guns had been fired we saw on the summit a number of moving figures, looking like black specks against the morning sky. Everyone stood watching the far-off inhabitants of the mysterious realm, wondering how we were to gain the high overhanging rock that descended sheer to where we stood. Presently the excitement reached fever-heat when we saw the small black figures grouping themselves into a ma.s.s, and then we noticed that one man was being slowly lowered by a rope over the precipice. The rope was apparently pa.s.sed under his arms, and as he swung out into mid-air his companions began to let him down rapidly to where we stood. Owing to the overhanging nature of the rock the wind caused the man to swing backwards and forwards as a pendulum, and by reason of hitches that seemed to occur in the arrangements above he was several times stopped in his descent.
At last, however, his feet touched the ground and headed by Omar, we all rushed towards him. He was a very tall, loosely-built man, his complexion almost white with just a yellowish tinge, colourless lips, colourless drab hair; vague irregular features, with an entire absence of expression. He wore an Arab haick upon his head bound with many yards of brown camel's hair, a long white garment, something like a burnouse, only embroidered at the edge with crimson thread and confined at the waist by a girdle containing quite a small a.r.s.enal of weapons, while at his back he carried a rifle of European manufacture, and around his neck was the invariable string of amulets.
”I seek Omar, son of the Naya, the Great Queen,” he cried with a loud voice, as his feet touched the gra.s.s and he disengaged himself from the swaying rope, which still continued to descend.
”I am Omar, Prince of Mo,” answered my friend, stepping forward quickly.
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