CHAPTER ELEVEN.
AN UNINVITED GUEST APPEARS WITH NEWS THAT DEMANDS INSTANT ACTION.
The villagers and their guests were still in the midst of the feast, andthe arrack had not yet begun to stimulate their imaginations, so thatthe deeds of their ancestors--which formed the chief subject ofconversation--were still being recounted with some regard to modesty andtruth, when Voalavo said to the assemblage, with a beaming countenance,that he had a treat in store for them.
"You are all fond of music," he said. "Who does not know that theMalagasy are good singers? The songs you have already sung havedelighted my ears, and the clapping of your hands has been in the bestof time; but you shall soon have music such as the idols would enjoy, Ihave no doubt, when in a merry mood."
The chief uttered the last sentence with an air of good-naturedcontempt, for he was what we may style an unbeliever in all gods--not anuncommon state of mind in men of superior intelligence when they thinkseriously of the debasing absurdities of idolatry.
"Now, my friend," he said, turning to John Hockins, with an air and toneof command, "let them hear the little pipe on which you--you--tootle-ootle."
Hockins had much ado to keep his gravity as he drew out the flageolet,and every eye was instantly fixed on him in glaring expectancy.
It need hardly be said that the effect of the sweet instrument was verypowerful, and it is probable that the party of admirers might have taxedthe seaman's powers of performance to the uttermost, if they had notbeen suddenly interrupted by the entrance of a tall wild-looking man,who was evidently in a state of tremendous excitement.
He wore the usual cloth round the loins, and the _lamba_, which wasthrown like a Scottish chieftain's plaid over his left shoulder--butthese garments bore evidence of rough usage and hard travel. The manwas not a stranger, for, as he suddenly stood panting vehemently in themidst of the party, with his long arms outstretched, Voalavo addressedhim in tones of surprise.
"Razafil!" he exclaimed. "Glad are we to see the Bard of Imarina. Yourcoming is well-timed. We are feasting, and singing, and story-telling.Words from the poet will be welcome."
Notwithstanding the friendly reception thus accorded to the Bard ofImarina, it was evident that the words were thrown away upon him, for hecontinued for some time to glare and pant while perspiration rolled downhis face, and it became clear to every one that something was wrong withhim. At last he spoke in a kind of low singing tone which harmonisedwith his appearance--
"Vain man! Observ'st thou not the dead? The morning warmth from them has fled, Their mid-day joy and toil are o'er, Though near, they meet fond friends no more."
He paused and looked wildly yet tremblingly round, as if in search ofsome one, but took no notice of his friends, many of whom were presentat the gathering. Then he continued in the same strain--
"A gate of entrance to the tomb we see, But a departure thence there ne'er shall be. The living waves his signal high, But where's the loved one's fond reply? Ah! where are those thus doomed to die?
"Vain man! observ'st thou not the dead? No more their homeward path they tread. The freeman lost may ransom'd be, By silver's magic power set free; But, once the deadly hand has laid them low, No voice can move them, for they cease to know. Regardless of our love they lie; Unknown the friends that o'er them sigh; Oh! where are those thus doom'd to die?"
Again the poor man paused, and gasped as if some terrible agony wererending his bosom, yet no tear moistened his eyes, from which thereseemed to gleam the wild light of insanity. His appearance and wordshad sunk like a pall upon the festive party, but no one spoke or moved.It was as if they were spell-bound. Once more the poet spoke, and thistime in tones of deepest pathos--
"Vain man! why groan ye for the dead? To be with Jesus they have fled, With shattered limbs--'mid scorching flame, They sang the praises of His name; Now, joy unspeakable, they tread the shore Whence ransom'd sinners shall depart no more. But ah! while mangled corpses lie, Our trembling, riven hearts _will_ cry-- `Why, why were those thus doom'd to die?'"
The man ceased; his arms fell listlessly by his side, and his chin sankon his breast.
"I fear much," whispered Ravonino to Mark, "that I understand but toowell what he means."
Without waiting for a reply the guide rose. Going up to Razafil he laidhis hand gently on his arm, and said--
"My brother!"
The bard looked at him earnestly for a few seconds, then, grasped him bythe wrist as with a grip of iron.
"Ravoninohitriniony," he said, fiercely, "my little one is dead! She isgone! They took her--a mere child--they tortured her, but she would notyield. Hear what I say. You knew her well--the soft one; the tenderone, who was always so pliable, so unselfish, so easily led,--she _wouldnot_ yield! They led her to the place of execution; they tied her to astake and kindled the fire about her beautiful limbs,--my little child,Raniva! I saw the skin upon her flesh blacken and crack and blaze. Butshe sang! sang loud and clear! I would have rushed into the fire to herbut they held me back--four strong men held me! When she was consumedthey led me away to the torture--but I burst from them--escaped--I knownot how--I care not! for my little one is lost!--lost!--"
"Nay, Razafil--not lost!" said Ravonino, in a quiet but firm tone, forhe saw the gleam increasing in the poor father's eyes. "Did you not sayjust now that she is singing with joy unspeakable the praises of Hisname?"
The words were fitly spoken. The father's agonised soul was quieted,but as quietness partly returned to him, a new expression appeared onhis countenance.
"Listen," he said, still holding the guide's wrist in his powerfulgrasp. "I go to my poor wife. She is safe in the cave withReni-Mamba--"
"Not in the cave you think of," interrupted the guide, explaining thechange of abode which had been recently made by the Christian fugitives.
"No matter," returned the bard, "I know all the caves, and can find theone she has gone to. But now I must warn you--warn all of you who areChristians," he added, with emphasis, looking round upon the natives,"if there be any such among you--that Queen Ranavalona has got one ofher bad fits again. She has ordered that no one is to sing or pray toJesus, or to read the Word of God, on pain of imprisonment, death, orbeing sold into slavery. Many have been sold already, and some havedied. Things would have been even worse, for the English missionary hasleft Antananarivo, but Prince Rakota remains our friend. Still, hecannot save every one. He could not save my Raniva! Now," he added,turning to the guide abruptly, as if anxious to keep his mind fromdwelling on his terrible bereavement, "you must go to Antananarivo withall haste if you would save Rafaravavy, for she is in great danger."
The bard had touched a cord in Ravonino's breast which vibratedsensitively.
"She has not confessed? She is not in prison?" he asked, quickly, withemotion which was too powerful to be entirely suppressed.
"As to confessing," returned Razafil, "there is no need for her to dothat, for it is well-known that she is a Christian; but the queen isfond of her and wishes to spare her. Nevertheless, she is so exceedingmad against us just now, that there is no saying when her forbearancemay come to an end. If you would save Rafaravavy, you must get her outof the palace without delay."
The guide did not reply for a few seconds. It was evident, from theknitted brows and the pallor of his countenance, that he wasendeavouring to make up his mind to some course of action. Suddenly thefrown passed from his brow, his countenance became perfectly calm, andhis eyes closed.
"He is speaking with God," whispered Laihova to one who sat near him.
Laihova may have been right. If so, the prayer was a very brief one,for the guide turned almost immediately to Voalavo and explained that inthe circumstances it was absolutely necessary for him and his comradesto depart at once for the capital.
The chief, being a sympathetic as well as a hilarious soul, made noobjection, but rather urged him to make haste.
Ravonino then turned to
his white companions, who could, of course, onlyguess at the meaning of all that had been said, and explained to themthe whole matter. They rose at once, and, having no preparations tomake, professed to be ready to start there and then.
Now, while they were yet speaking, the festive party received anothersurprise, or alarm, which was even more exciting than the previous one.
A young man suddenly burst into the village with the announcement that abody of the Queen's soldiers were close at hand. They had been sent offin pursuit of Razafil, with directions to scour the country, and bringin as many Christian fugitives as possible, and he--the young man--beinga fast runner, had been sent in advance by some friends of the bard towarn him of his danger.
"I would not try to avoid them if I stood alone," said Razafil, softly."Should _I_ shrink from dying for Jesus, after seeing my Raniva go toHim in a chariot of fire? But I stand not alone. My wife claims mysupport, and my little boy."
While he was speaking, it was seen that a few of the hunters, as well asone or two inhabitants of the village, rose quietly and left the place.These were either professing or suspected Christians, who were anxiousto make their escape from the danger that threatened.
After bidding Voalavo farewell, the guide and his friends left thevillage and struck into the woods. They were accompanied by the bard ashort distance, until a point was reached where their routes diverged,and here, after a few words of brotherly sympathy and counsel fromRavonino, the bereaved man went on his solitary way, and the othersdirected their course towards the capital.
"Poor man," said Ebony, who looked over his shoulder with profoundsorrow in his earnest eyes as long as the tall figure of the bard was insight, "I's most awrful sorry for 'im. Why don't dey hang Randalvalona,or shot 'er?"
"History teaches that it's not always so easy as one might think to getrid of objectionable queens in that way," said Mark.
"Hm! I'd teach history suffin diff'rent if I had my way," returned thenegro.
"But surely the great men around her might have some sort o' power toclap a stopper on 'er?" said Hockins.
"They have some power, but not much," returned the guide, "forRanavalona is a passionate, self-willed, cruel woman; and when such awoman happens to be a despotic queen, nothing short of a revolution, orher death, can save the country. She usurped the throne in 1829, wehave now reached 1857, so she has been reigning more than twenty-sevenyears, and a bitter reign it has been. There have been manypersecutions of the Christians since it began. Hundreds have beenslain; thousands have been sold into slavery; many more have beenbanished to pestilential districts, where disease has laid them low.God grant that this mad fit may not be the forerunner of another burstof cruelty."
"But do you really think," said Mark, "that Rafaravavy is in greatdanger? Did not the bard say that she is a favourite with the queen?"
"That is some security, but not much, for Ranavalona is changeable aswell as cruel. But my dear one is in the hands of God. No harm cancome to her unless He permits. Nevertheless, our God works not bymiracles but by means, therefore it is my business, having theopportunity given me, to hasten to her rescue."
"And it is mine to help you," said Mark, an impulse of youthfulenthusiasm and sympathy swelling his heart as his mind suddenly revertedto the morning when he left England, and said his last good-bye to thefair one with the golden hair and the rosebud mouth and "such lovelyblue eyes!"
"But how," he continued, "shall we best aid you in this matter?"
"That question I cannot answer immediately. When we draw near to thecapital and hear what is going on I shall be able to form a plan. Whatwe have to do just now is to travel fast. You are strong stout men, allof you. Do you think you can walk fast and far with little rest orsleep, and without breaking down?"
"I think so," answered Mark, modestly.
"I's cock-sure ob it," said Ebony, "if we's allowed lots o' grub."
"I'm not quite so sure," said Hockins; "you must remember I've only gotsea-legs on--but I'll try."
And he did try, and so did the others; with such success, too, thatbefore the sun set that evening they had penetrated into the very heartof the mountain range which runs through the centre of the island.
There had not been much conversation on the way, for hill-climbing allday at top-speed is not compatible with small talk. Besides, theobvious anxiety of Ravonino rendered his companions less inclined thanusual to engage in desultory remarks. Nevertheless there wereoccasions--during momentary halts to recover breath, or when clearbubbling springs tempted them to drink--when the prolonged silence wasbroken.
"Putty stiff work dis hill-climbin', massa," said Ebony, during one ofthese brief halts, as he wiped the perspiration from his sable brow withthe back of his hand. "Lucky I's used to it."
"Used to it?" repeated Mark.
"Yes. Di'n't I tell you I was born an' raised among de Andes in Sout'Ameriky?"
"To be sure, I forgot that, but there must be a considerable differencebetween the two mountain ranges."
"Das troo, massa, but de diff'rence don't make much diff'rence to delegs. You see, wild rugged ground much de same wheder de mountains risea few t'ousand foot, like dese, or poke der snow-topped heads troo declouds right away up into de blue sky, like de Andes. Rugged ground isrugged ground, an' hard on de legs all de same, an' dis am rugged 'nuffeven for 'Ockins!"
The negro opened his huge mouth in an amiable laugh at his companion,who had taken advantage of the brief halt to give a hearty rub to hiscolossal limbs.
"Rugged enough it is, no doubt," said the sailor, gravely, "an' it makesmy sea-legs raither stiffish. But never you fear, Ebony; they're tough,an' will last as long as yours, anyhow."
"You's right, 'Ockins. Dey'll last _longer_ dan mine by eight or tenhinches--if not more."
"Your jokes are small, Ebony, which is more than can be said for yourmouth. Shut it, man, or some of us'll go tumblin' into it by accident."
While these two were indulging their little pleasantries, the guide andhis friend Laihova had gone to the top of a neighbouring bluff toconsult as to the best route to adopt in the present troubled state ofthe country.
The view from the commanding height on which they stood was indeedmarked by a rugged grandeur which might have done credit even to thegiant Andes themselves, and offered a variety of routes, or ratherobstructions to routes, which might well perplex men who were eager tocross country swiftly.
The point which they had reached, and much of the range they hadcrossed, was formed of basalt in various stages of decomposition; but inthe country before them, for several miles in advance, huge masses ofgranite and fragments of quartz indicated a change in the nature of theprevailing rock. The position of these masses, as well as their size,gave a wild Titanic aspect to much of the scenery.
Many enormous stones projected out of the ground at various angles. Oneof these stood out horizontally to the distance of between twenty andthirty feet, forming a cave under it, in which it was evident, fromsundry suggestive appearances, that wayfarers were accustomed to lodge.The neighbourhood of this cave formed one of the most romantic andpicturesque scenes they had yet seen. It was a dark narrow vale, inmany places not less than five hundred feet deep, with a considerablestream at the bottom, which brawled among detached and shattered rocks,or was partly lost to view in its meanderings among the beautiful greenshrubs which clothed its banks. Various kinds of birds twittered amongthe bushes, and wherever water expanded in the form of pond or lakeletnumerous waterfowl sported on the surface.
"A glorious prospect!" exclaimed Mark, as he joined the guide and hisfriend, "and a splendid place, I should think, for fugitives frompersecution."
He pointed, as he spoke, to the scene on his right, where masses of rockvarying from thirty to fifty feet in length projected from the side ofthe ravine. On the top of these rested other masses in a position thatseemed to threaten destruction to all who ventured beneath them.
"The caves of this region," sa
id the guide, "have served to shelter theChristians many a time. It looks as if God had provided these blocks ofgranite for this very purpose, for the caverns which extend beneath themare dark and intricate, having many entrances, and being lighted in someplaces by openings between the blocks, while in other places they areprofoundly dark and of unknown extent. See also, if you look at thestream below, they form a splendid bridge. At this distance they do notseem large, but some of these blocks are not less than a hundred feetlong. This whole region is infested by robbers, but the recent act ofthe Queen in sending troops out to scour the country for fugitiveChristians seems to have driven them away. But if they had been here weshould have had little to fear, for robbers are not usually fond ofattacking even small parties of men who are well able to defendthemselves; besides, they do not injure the outlawed Christians much.Perhaps they have a sort of fellow-feeling for us!"
At this point Laihova spoke a few words to the guide in the nativetongue. The latter nodded approval, and turning to Mark, said--
"We have been consulting about our route. There are two roads--onerugged, round-about, and safe, which would take us a longer time,however, to reach the capital than the other, which is the regularbeaten path, through the villages. But this latter way lays us open tothe danger of meeting with soldiers, and of my being captured along withmy friend Laihova. There would be no danger to you and your friends,for you are strangers."
"Ravonino," said Mark, quickly, "do what is best for rescuingRafaravavy. We have no will but yours. We will follow wherever youchoose to lead."
A quiet look of satisfaction played on the guide's features as he turnedto his friend.
"What says Laihova? The Englishmen are willing to do whatever we wish."
"Let us go by the villages. Let us push on by night as well as by day,"said Laihova. "Time flies! Ranavalona is mad! Rafaravavy is indanger!"
It was finally arranged that, at this place, which was considerably tothe south of Antananarivo, they should diverge to the right, so as toavoid certain points of danger, and arrive ultimately at the easternside of the capital.
Having settled this point, the three men rejoined their comrades, whowere still conversing amicably beside the spring. Thereafter they alldescended into the valley by a steep and rugged pathway.