Read The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar Page 17


  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  MAMBA IS SUCCOURED BY ONE OF THE "ANCIENT SOOT," AND FULFILS HISMYSTERIOUS MISSION.

  When Laihova and Mamba took the reckless "headers" which we havedescribed in a former chapter, they tumbled into a court-yard which wasused as a sort of workshop. Fortunately for them the owner of the housewas not a man of orderly habits. He was rather addicted to let rubbishlie till stern necessity forced him to clear it away. Hence he leftheaps of dust, shavings, and other things to accumulate in heaps. Onesuch heap happened to lie directly under the window, through which theadventurous men plunged, so that, to their immense satisfaction, andeven surprise, they came down soft and arose unhurt.

  Instantly they slipped into an outhouse, and there held hurried conversein low tones.

  "What will you do now?" asked Laihova.

  "I will remain where I am till night-fall, for I dare not show myselfall bruised like this. When it is dark I will slip out and continue myjourney to the coast."

  "To Tamatave?" asked Laihova, naming the chief seaport on the easternside of Madagascar.

  "Yes, to Tamatave."

  "Do you go there to trade?"

  "No. I go on important business."

  It was evident that, whatever his business might be, Mamba, for reasonsbest known to himself, resolved to keep his own counsel. Seeing this,his friend said--

  "Well, I go to the eastward also, for Ravoninohitriniony awaits methere; but I fear that our English friends will be thrown into prison."

  "Do you think so?" asked Mamba, anxiously. "If you think I can behelpful I will give up my important business and remain with you."

  "You cannot help us much, I think. Perhaps your presence may be adanger instead of a help. Besides, I have friends here who have power.And have we not God to direct us in all things? No, brother, as yourbusiness is important, go."

  Mamba was evidently much relieved by this reply, and his friend sawclearly that he had intended to make a great personal sacrifice when heoffered to remain.

  "But now I must myself go forth without delay," continued Laihova. "Iam not well-known here, and, once clear of this house, can walk openlyand without much risk out of the city. Whatever befalls the Englishmen,Ravoninohitriniony and I will help and pray for them."

  Another minute and he was gone. Passing the gates without arousingsuspicion, he was soon walking rapidly towards the forest in which hisfriend Ravonino lay concealed.

  Meanwhile, Mamba hid himself behind some bags of grain in the outhouseuntil night-fall, when he sallied boldly forth and made his way to thehouse of a friend, who, although not a Christian, was too fond of him torefuse him shelter.

  This friend was a man of rank and ancient family. The soot hung in longstrings from his roof-tree. He was one of "the ancient soot!"

  The houses in the city are usually without ceiling--open to theridge-pole, though there is sometimes an upper chamber occupying part ofthe space, which is reached by a ladder. There are no chimneys,therefore, and smoke from the wood and grass fires settles upon therafters in great quantities inside. As it is never cleared away, thesoot of course accumulates in course of time and hangs down in longpendants. So far from considering this objectionable, the Malagasy havecome to regard it with pride; for, as each man owns his own house, thegreat accumulations of soot have come to be regarded as evidence of thefamily having occupied the dwelling from ancient times. Hence the "oldfamilies" are sometimes complimented by the sovereign, in proclamations,by being styled "the ancient soot!"

  The particular Ancient Soot who accorded hospitality that night to Mambawas much surprised, but very glad, to see him. "Have you arrived?" heasked, with a good deal of ceremonial gesticulation.

  "I have arrived," answered Mamba.

  "Safely and well, I hope."

  "Safely and well," replied Mamba--ceremonially of course, for in realityhe had barely arrived with life, and certainly not with a sound skin.

  "Come in, then," said the Ancient Soot. "And how are you? I hope it iswell with you. Behold, spread a mat for him, there, one of you. And isit well with you?"

  "Well indeed," said Mamba once again, falsely but ceremonially.

  "May you live to grow old!" resumed Soot. "And you have arrived safely?Come in. Where are you going?"

  "I'm going yonder--westward," replied Mamba, with charming conventionalvagueness, as he sat down on the mat.

  "But it appears to me," said Ancient Soot, passing from the region ofcompliment into that of fact, and looking somewhat closely at hisfriend, "it seems to me that you have been hurt."

  Mamba now explained the exact state of the case, said that he required agood long rest, after that a hearty meal, then a lamba and a littlemoney, for he had been despoiled of everything he had possessed by thefurious crowd that so nearly killed him.

  His kind host was quite ready to assist him in every way. In a fewminutes he was sound asleep in a little chamber on the rafters, where hecould rest without much risk of disturbance or discovery.

  All next day he remained in hiding. When it began to grow dusk his hostwalked with him through the streets and through the gates, thusrendering his passage less likely to be observed--for this particularAncient Soot was well-known in the town.

  "I will turn now. What go you to the coast for?" asked his friend, whenabout to part.

  "You would laugh at me if I told you," said Mamba.

  "Then tell me not," returned his friend, with much delicacy of feeling,"for I would be sorry to laugh at my friend."

  Thus they parted. Ancient Soot returned to the home of his forefathers,and Mamba walked smartly along the road that leads to the seaport ofTamatave.

  He spent that night in the residence of a friend; the next in the hut ofa government wood-cutter.

  Felling timber, as might be supposed, was, and still is, an importantbranch of industry in Madagascar. Forests of varied extent abound indifferent parts of the country, and an immense belt of forest of two orthree days' journey in width covers the interior of the island. Theseforests yield abundance of timber of different colour and texture, andof various degrees of hardness and durability.

  The wood-cutter, an old man, was busy splitting a large tree into planksby means of wedges when our traveller came up. This wasteful method ofobtaining planks is still practised by some natives of the South SeaIslands. Formerly the Malagasy never thought of obtaining more than twoplanks out of a single tree, however large the tree might be. Theymerely split the tree down the middle, and then chopped away the outsideof each half until it was reduced to the thickness required. The adventof the English missionaries, however, in the early part of this century,introduced light in regard to the things of time as well as those ofeternity-among other things, the pit-saw, which has taught the nativesto "gather up the fragments so that nothing be lost." Thick planks arestill however sometimes procured in the old fashion.

  The wood-cutter belonged to "The Seven Hundred" which constituted thegovernment corps. The members of this corps felled timber for the useof the sovereign. They also dragged it to the capital, for oxen werenever employed as beasts of burden or trained to the yoke. The wholepopulation around the capital was liable to be employed on thistimber-hauling work--and indeed on any government work--withoutremuneration and for any length of time! After the usual exhaustivequestions and replies as to health, etcetera, the old man conducted hisvisitor to his hut and set food before him. He was a solitary oldfellow, but imbued with that virtue of hospitality which is inculcatedso much among the people.

  Having replied to the wood-cutter's first inquiry that he was "goingyonder," Mamba now saw fit to explain that "yonder" meant Tamatave.

  "I want to see the great Missionary Ellis before he leaves the country."

  The wood-cutter shook his head. "You are too late, I fear. He passeddown to the coast some weeks ago. The Queen has ordered him to depart.She is mad against all the praying people."

  "Are _you_ one of the praying people?
" asked Mamba, with directsimplicity.

  "Yes, and I know that _you_ are," answered the wood-cutter with a smile.

  "How know you that?"

  "Did I not see your lips move and your eyes look up when you approachedme on arriving?"

  "True, I prayed to Jesus," said Mamba, "that I might be made use of tohelp you, or you to help me."

  "Then your prayer is doubly answered," returned the old man, "for we caneach help the other. I can give you food and lodging. You can carry amessage to Tamatave for me."

  "That is well. I shall be glad to help you. What is your message?"

  "It is a message to the missionary, Ellis, if you find him still there;but even if he is gone you will find a praying one who can help me.Long have I prayed to the lord that he would send one of his people hereto take my message. Some came who looked like praying people, but I wasafraid to ask them, and perhaps they were afraid to speak; for, as youknow, the Queen's spies are abroad everywhere now, and if they find onewhom they suspect of praying to Jesus they seize him and drag him awayto the ordeal of `tangena'--perhaps to torture and death. But now youhave come, and my prayer is answered. `He is faithful who haspromised.' Look here."

  The old man went to a corner of the hut, and returned with two soiledpieces of paper in his hand.

  Sitting down, he spread them carefully on his knees. Mamba recognisedthem at once as being two leaves out of a Malagasy Bible. Soiled, worn,and slightly torn they were, from long and frequent use, but stillreadable. On one of them was the twenty-third Psalm, which the oldwood-cutter began to read with slow and intense interest.

  "Is it not grand," he said, looking up at his young guest with a flushof joy in his care-worn old face, "to think that after this wearywood-cutting is over we shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever?No more toiling and hauling and splitting; above all, no more sin--nothing but praise and work for Him. And how hard I could work forHim!"

  "Strange!" said Mamba, while the old man gazed at the two soiled leavesas if lost in meditation, "strange that you should show this to me. Ihave come--but tell me," he said, breaking off abruptly, "what do youwish me to do?"

  "This," said the old man, pointing to the leaves, as though he had notheard the question, "is all that I possess of the Word of God. Ah! welldo I remember the time--many years past now--when I had the whole Bible.It was such a happy time then--when good King Radama reigned, and themissionaries had schools and churches and meetings--when we prayed andsang to our heart's content, and the Bible was printed, by the wonderfulmachines brought by the white men, in our own language, and we learnedto read it. I was young then, and strong; but I don't think my heartwas so warm as it is now! Learning to read was hard--hard; but the Lordmade me able, and when I got a Bible all to myself I thought there wasnothing more to wish for. But the good Radama died, and Ranavalona sitsupon his throne. You know she has burned many Bibles. Mine was foundand burned, but she did not suspect me. I suppose I am too poor andworthless for her to care about! Perhaps we did not think enough of thehappy times when we had them! A brother gave me these two leaves. Theyare all that I have left now."

  Again the old man paused, and the younger forbore to interrupt histhoughts. Presently he looked up, and continued, "When the missionaryEllis was on his way to the coast I met him and asked for a Bible. Hehad not a spare one to give me. He was very sorry, but said if I couldfind any one going to Tamatave who would carry a Bible back to me, hewould send one. Now you have come. Will you see the great missionary,or, if he is away, find one of the other men of God, and fetch me aBible?"

  There was a trembling earnestness in the old wood-cutter's voice whichshowed how eager he was about the answer. Mamba readily promised, andthen, after singing and praying together, these like-minded men retiredto rest.

  Next morning Mamba pursued his way eastward with rapid step, for he wasanxious--yet with a glad heart, for he was hopeful. Many things ofinterest were presented to his gaze, but though he observed them well hedid not suffer them to turn him aside for a moment from his purpose--which was to reach Tamatave in the shortest possible time, so as to meetand converse with the missionary before he should quit the island.

  Mamba was of an inquiring disposition. In ordinary circumstances hewould have paused frequently to rest and meditate and pray. He wouldhave turned aside to examine anything peculiar in his track, or even towatch the operations of a spider, or the gambols of a butterfly; but nowhe had "business" on hand, and set his face like a flint to transact it.

  The distance from the capital to Tamatave was nearly two hundred miles.There were dangers in the way. As we have said, the Queen's spies wereeverywhere. Mamba's wounds and bruises were still sufficiently obviousto attract attention and rouse curiosity, if not suspicion.

  At one part of the journey he came upon some criminals in long chainswhich extended from their necks to their ankles. They were doing workon the roads under a guard. He would fain have conversed with thesemen, but, fearing to be questioned, turned aside into the shelter of aplantation and passed stealthily by.

  At another place he came to a ferry where, when he was about to enterthe boat, two men stepped in before him whom he knew to be governmentofficers and suspected to be spies. To have drawn suddenly back withoutapparent reason would have proclaimed a guilty conscience. To goforward was to lay himself open to question and suspicion, for he hadprepared no tissue of falsehoods for the occasion. There was no timefor thought, only for prayer. He committed his soul to God as heentered the boat, and then began to converse with the boatman in as easyand natural a tone of voice as he could assume. Having to face theboatman for this purpose enabled him to turn his back upon thegovernment officers. Scarce knowing what he said in the perturbation ofhis spirit, his first question was rather absurd--

  "Did you ever upset in crossing here?" he asked.

  "Of course not!" replied the boatman, with a look of offended dignity.

  "Ha! then," continued Mamba, who quickly recovered his equanimity, "thenyou don't know what it is to feel the teeth of a crocodile?"

  "No, I don't, and hope I never shall. Did you?"

  "Oh yes," returned Mamba, "I have felt them."

  This was true; for it happened that when he was a little boy, his motherhad taken him down to the side of a river where she had some washing todo, and while she was not looking the urchin waded in, and a crocodilemade a snap at him. Fortunately it failed to catch him, but its sharpteeth grazed his thigh, and left a mark which he never afterwards lost.

  "Where did that happen?" asked the boatman, when the other had brieflystated the fact--for the passage was too short to permit of a storybeing told.

  "In the Betsilio country."

  "That's a long way off."

  "Yes, a long way. I left my old mother there. I'm going to Tamatave tobuy her a present. Now, my friend," said Mamba, in a bantering tone, asthe boat ran into the opposite bank, "take care never to upset yourboat, because crocodile teeth are wonderfully sharp!"

  Mamba had the satisfaction of hearing the two officers chuckle at hislittle joke, and the boatman growl indignantly, as he leaped ashore andsedately strode away with a sigh of relief and thankfulness for havingmade what he deemed a narrow escape.

  The road to Tamatave was by no means lonely, for, being the highway fromthe seaport to the capital, there was constant traffic both oftravellers and of merchandise. There were also great droves of cattlemaking their way to the coast--for a large part of the wealth of thechiefs and nobles of the land consists of cattle, which are exported tothe islands of Bourbon and Mauritius, and disposed of to the shippingthat come there for supplies.

  At last Mamba reached Tamatave, footsore, worn, and weary, and wentstraight to the house of friend--a native of wealth and importance inthe town, and one whom he knew to be a Christian. From him he learned,to his great joy, that Mr Ellis had not yet left the place, and that hehoped to be permitted still to remain there for some time.

  It
was dark when Mamba arrived, and rather late; but he was too anxiousto transact his "business" to wait till morning. Having ascertainedwhere the missionary lived, he went there direct, and was ushered intohis sitting-room.

  "You wish to converse with me," said Mr Ellis, in a kind voice, and inthe native tongue, as he placed a chair for his visitor--who, however,preferred to stand.

  "Yes, I come from very far away--from the Betsilio country. My motherdwells there, and she is a praying one--a follower of Jesus. She lovesthe Word of God. I heard that you had brought the Bible to us from yourown land--printed in our language, and so I have come to ask you for aBible."

  "Have you come all that long journey to procure the Word of God?" askedthe missionary, much interested.

  "Yes--that is my business," replied Mamba.

  Although Mr Ellis liked the look of his visitor, and was stronglydisposed to believe him, he had too much knowledge of the nativecharacter to place immediate confidence in him. Besides, the man beinga stranger to him, and possibly one of the government spies, he fearedto comply at once with his request, lest he should hasten his ownbanishment from the island. He replied, therefore, with caution.

  "I cannot give you what you want to-night," he said, "but you may callon me again to-morrow, and I will speak with you."

  This answer did not at all satisfy the eager heart of the poor fellowwho had travelled so far and risked so much. His countenance showed thestate of his feelings so strongly that the sympathetic missionary laidhis hand kindly on his shoulder, bade him cheer up, and asked for hisname as well as the name of some one in Tamatave who knew him.

  "Now then, Mamba," he said, as they were about to part, "don't be castdown. Come here to see me to-morrow. Come early."

  Comforted a little--more by the missionary's look and tone than by hiswords,--Mamba took his departure.

  Meanwhile Mr Ellis made inquiries, visited the friend to whom he hadbeen referred, and found that not only was Mamba a good and true man,but that many of his family "feared the Lord greatly."

  When, therefore, his anxious visitor returned very early the followingmorning, he was ready for him.

  "I am assured that you are a Christian, Mamba," he said, "as well asmany of your kindred."

  "Yes, I love the Lord, and so do many of my kinsmen. But my family islarge and scattered."

  "Have any of them got the Scriptures?"

  "They have seen and heard them," returned Mamba, "but all that wepossess are a few pages of the words of David. These belong to thewhole family. We send them from one to another, and each, after keepingthem for a time, passes them on, until they have been read by all. Theyare in my hands just now."

  "Have you them with you?" asked the missionary. Mamba did not reply atonce. He seemed unwilling to answer, but at last confessed that he had.

  "Will you not show them to me? Surely you can trust me, brother!"

  Mamba at length made up his mind. Thrusting his hand deep into hisbosom, he drew a parcel from the folds of his lamba. This he slowly andcarefully opened. One piece of cloth after another being unrolled,there appeared at length a few leaves of the Book of Psalms, which hecautiously handed to Mr Ellis.

  Though it was evident that the greatest care had been taken of thatmuch-prized portion of Scripture, the soiled appearance of the leaves,worn edges, and other marks of frequent use--like the two leaves ownedby the wood-cutter--showed how much they had been read.

  Even Mamba's anxiety was allayed by the tender way in which themissionary handled his treasure, and the interest in it that hedisplayed.

  "Now, my friend," said Mr Ellis, still holding the tattered leaves,which Mamba seemed anxious to get back, "if you will give me these fewwords of David, I will give you _all_ his words; and I will give you,besides, the words of Jesus, and of John, and Paul and Peter. See--herethey are."

  Saying which, he handed to his visitor a copy of the New Testament andPsalms, in Malagasy, bound together.

  But Mamba did not leap at this gift as might have been expected. Eitherit seemed to him to be too good news to be true, or he was of asceptical turn of mind. At all events he was not satisfied until he hadsat down with the missionary and assured himself that every verse in hisragged treasure was contained in the presented volume, and a great dealmore besides. Then he let the old treasure go, and joyfully acceptedthe new, which, he said, he was going to carry back to his mother whogreatly longed for it.

  Before retiring with it, however, he mentioned his friend thewood-cutter, whom Mr Ellis remembered well, and gladly gave anotherTestament to be taken back to him. Then, uttering expressions offervent gratitude, Mamba left the house.

  In the course of that day the missionary inquired after his visitor,wishing to have further converse with him, but the Christians ofTamatave told him that Mamba had started off, almost immediately afterquitting him, on his long return journey to Betsilio-land--doubtless"rejoicing as one that findeth great spoil."

  Dust was not allowed to accumulate on the Bibles of Madagascar in thosedays!