She
till the night of the fourth day after Billali had left, when
something happened.
We three and Ustane were sitting round a fire in the cave just
before bedtime, when suddenly the woman, who had been brooding in
silence, rose, and laid her hand upon Leo’s golden curls, and
addressed him. Even now, when I shut my eyes, I can see her
proud, imperial form, clothed alternately in dense shadow and the
red flickering of the fire, as she stood, the wild centre of as
weird a scene as I ever witnessed, and delivered herself of the
burden of her thoughts and forebodings in a kind of rhythmical
speech that ran something as follows:—
Thou art my chosen—I have waited for thee from the beginning!
Thou art very beautiful. Who hath hair like unto thee, or skin so
white?
Who hath so strong an arm, who is so much a man?
Thine eyes are the sky, and the light in them is the stars.
Thou art perfect and of a happy face, and my heart turned itself
towards thee.
Ay, when mine eyes fell upon thee I did desire thee,—
Then did I take thee to me—oh, thou Beloved,
And hold thee fast, lest harm should come unto thee.
Ay, I did cover thine head with mine hair, lest the sun should strike
it;
And altogether was I thine, and thou wast altogether mine.
And so it went for a little space, till Time was in labour with an evil
Day;
And then what befell on that day? Alas! my Beloved, I know not!
But I, I saw thee no more—I, I was lost in the blackness.
And she who is stronger did take thee; ay, she who is fairer than
Ustane.
Yet didst thou turn and call upon me, and let thine eyes wander in the
darkness.
But, nevertheless, she prevailed by Beauty, and led thee down horrible
places,
And then, ah! then my Beloved——
Here this extraordinary woman broke off her speech, or chant,
which was so much musical gibberish to us, for all that we
understood of what she was talking about, and seemed to fix her
flashing eyes upon the deep shadow before her. Then in a moment
they acquired a vacant, terrified stare, as though they were
striving to realise some half-seen horror. She lifted her hand
from Leo’s head, and pointed into the darkness. We all looked,
and could see nothing; but she saw something, or thought she did,
and something evidently that affected even her iron nerves, for,
without another sound, down she fell senseless between us.
Leo, who was growing really attached to this remarkable young
person, was in a great state of alarm and distress, and I, to be
perfectly candid, was in a condition not far removed from
superstitious fear. The whole scene was an uncanny one.
Presently, however, she recovered, and sat up with an
extraordinary convulsive shudder.
“What didst thou mean, Ustane?” asked Leo, who, thanks to years
of tuition, spoke Arabic very prettily.
“Nay, my chosen,” she answered, with a little forced laugh. “I
did but sing unto thee after the fashion of my people. Surely, I
meant nothing. How could I speak of that which is not yet?”
“And what didst thou see, Ustane?” I asked, looking her sharply
in the face.
“Nay,” she answered again, “I saw naught. Ask me not what I saw.
Why should I fright ye?” And then, turning to Leo with a look of
the most utter tenderness that I ever saw upon the face of a
woman, civilised or savage, she took his head between her hands,
and kissed him on the forehead as a mother might.
“When I am gone from thee, my chosen,” she said; “when at night
thou stretchest out thine hand and canst not find me, then
shouldst thou think at times of me, for of a truth I love thee
well, though I be not fit to wash thy feet. And now let us love
and take that which is given us, and be happy; for in the grave
there is no love and no warmth, nor any touching of the lips.
Nothing perchance, or perchance but bitter memories of what might
have been. To-night the hours are our own, how know we to whom
they shall belong to-morrow?”
VIII.
THE FEAST, AND AFTER!
On the day following this remarkable scene—a scene calculated to
make a deep impression upon anybody who beheld it, more because
of what it suggested and seemed to foreshadow than of what it
revealed—it was announced to us that a feast would be held that
evening in our honour. I did my best to get out of it, saying
that we were modest people, and cared little for feasts, but my
remarks being received with the silence of displeasure, I thought
it wisest to hold my tongue.
Accordingly, just before sundown, I was informed that everything
was ready, and, accompanied by Job, went into the cave, where I
met Leo, who was, as usual, followed by Ustane. These two had
been out walking somewhere, and knew nothing of the projected
festivity till that moment. When Ustane heard of it I saw an
expression of horror spring up upon her handsome features.
Turning she caught a man who was passing up the cave by the arm,
and asked him something in an imperious tone. His answer seemed
to reassure her a little, for she looked relieved, though far
from satisfied. Next she appeared to attempt some remonstrance
with the man, who was a person in authority, but he spoke angrily
to her, and shook her off, and then, changing his mind, led her
by the arm, and sat her down between himself and another man in
the circle round the fire, and I perceived that for some reason
of her own she thought it best to submit.
The fire in the cave was an unusually big one that night, and in
a large circle round it were gathered about thirty-five men and
two women, Ustane and the woman to avoid whom Job had played the
_rôle_ of another Scriptural character. The men were sitting in
perfect silence, as was their custom, each with his great spear
stuck upright behind him, in a socket cut in the rock for that
purpose. Only one or two wore the yellowish linen garment of
which I have spoken, the rest had nothing on except the leopard’s
skin about the middle.
“What’s up now, sir,” said Job, doubtfully. “Bless us and save
us, there’s that woman again. Now, surely, she can’t be after me,
seeing that I have given her no encouragement. They give me the
creeps, the whole lot of them, and that’s a fact. Why look, they
have asked Mahomed to dine, too. There, that lady of mine is
talking to him in as nice and civil a way as possible. Well, I’m
glad it isn’t me, that’s all.”
We looked up, and sure enough the woman in question had risen,
and was escorting the wretched Mahomed from his corner, where,
overcome by some acute prescience of horror, he had been seated,
shivering, and calling on Allah. He appeared unwilling enough to
come, if for no other reason perhaps because it was an
unaccustomed honour, for hitherto his food had been given to him
apart. Anyway I could see that he was in a state of great terror,
for his tottering legs would scarcely support his stout, bulky
form, and I think it was rather owing to the resources of
barbarism behind him, in the shape of a huge Amahagger with a
proportionately huge spear, than to the seductions of the lady
who led him by the hand, that he consented to come at all.
“Well,” I said to the others, “I don’t at all like the look of
things, but I suppose we must face it out. Have you fellows got
your revolvers on? because, if so, you had better see that they
are loaded.”
“I have, sir,” said Job, tapping his Colt, “but Mr. Leo has only
got his hunting knife, though that is big enough, surely.”
Feeling that it would not do to wait while the missing weapon was
fetched, we advanced boldly, and seated ourselves in a line, with
our backs against the side of the cave.
As soon as we were seated, an earthenware jar was passed round
containing a fermented fluid, of by no means unpleasant taste,
though apt to turn upon the stomach, made from crushed grain—not
Indian corn, but a small brown grain that grows upon its stem in
clusters, not unlike that which in the southern part of Africa is
known by the name of Kafir corn. The vase which contained this
liquor was very curious, and as it more or less resembled many
hundreds of others in use among the Amahagger I may as well
describe it. These vases are of a very ancient manufacture, and
of all sizes. None such can have been made in the country for
hundreds, or rather thousands, of years. They are found in the
rock tombs, of which I shall give a description in their proper
place, and my own belief is that, after the fashion of the
Egyptians, with whom the former inhabitants of this country may
have had some connection, they were used to receive the viscera
of the dead. Leo, however, is of opinion that, as in the case of
Etruscan amphoræ, they were placed there for the spiritual use of
the deceased. They are mostly two-handled, and of all sizes, some
being nearly three feet in height, and running from that down to
as many inches. In shape they vary, but all are exceedingly
beautiful and graceful, being made of a very fine black ware, not
lustrous, but slightly rough. On this groundwork are inlaid
figures much more graceful and lifelike than any others that I
have seen on antique vases. Some of these inlaid pictures
represent love-scenes with a childlike simplicity and freedom of
manner which would not commend itself to the taste of the present
day. Others again give pictures of maidens dancing, and yet
others of hunting-scenes. For instance, the very vase from which
we were then drinking had on one side a most spirited drawing of
men, apparently white in colour, attacking a bull-elephant with
spears, while on the reverse was a picture, not quite so well
done, of a hunter shooting an arrow at a running antelope, I
should say from the look of it either an eland or a koodoo.
This is a digression at a critical moment, but it is not too long
for the occasion, for the occasion itself was very long. With the
exception of the periodical passing of the vase, and the movement
necessary to throw fuel on to the fire, nothing happened for the
best part of a whole hour. Nobody spoke a word. There we all sat
in perfect silence, staring at the glare and glow of the large
fire, and at the shadows thrown by the flickering earthenware
lamps (which, by the way, were not ancient). On the open space
between us and the fire lay a large wooden tray, with four short
handles to it, exactly like a butcher’s tray, only not hollowed
out. By the side of the tray was a great pair of long-handled
iron pincers, and on the other side of the fire was a similar
pair. Somehow I did not at all like the appearance of this tray
and the accompanying pincers. There I sat and stared at them and
at the silent circle of the fierce moody faces of the men, and
reflected that it was all very awful, and that we were absolutely
in the power of this alarming people, who, to me at any rate,
were all the more formidable because their true character was
still very much of a mystery to us. They might be better than I