CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FIRST BLOW.
LEAVING the store of arms we returned to Goliba's house; not by the highroad, but by little winding lanes with tunnel-like passages under theoverhanging eaves of houses; through a small open square or two, past afew richly-painted and carved doors of tombs, and so on once more to theresidence of the old sage, with its spacious courts and beautifulgardens. We passed some handsome blue-tiled public fountains, and somefine buildings several storeys in height, open in the centre with apatio, and surrounded by galleries of carved wood, which seemed to answerto our corn exchanges. One, near Goliba's house, was especiallyremarkable for its architectural beauty, not only with regard to itsinterior, but also its magnificent gateway. There were others also of farless pretensions, which answered more to the caravanseri of Samory'scountry, where the weary animals who had borne their burdens from somefar away corner of the mystic land were resting during their sojourn inthe city.
When, in the cool dusk of evening we had eaten in the marble court, withits fountains and flowering plants, Omar being waited upon personally byour host, Liola came, and, lounging gracefully against one of the marblecolumns, gossipped with us. Afterwards, a professional story-teller wasintroduced to amuse us during the anxious time that must elapse beforethe fateful hour when the signal for the great uprising would be given.
He was an old man, small of stature, in fact, I believe he must have beenone of the tribe of dwarf cave-dwellers. Of darker complexion than themajority of this curious people, he was dressed in a long garment ofwhite, wearing on his head a conical head-dress, shaped somewhat like adunce's cap, and as he took up his position, squatting on a mat beforeus, he made deep obeisance to the son of his ruler. While we regaledourselves with grapes and other luscious fruits as a satisfactoryconclusion to a bountiful feast, he told us a story which, as far as Icould translate it, was as follows:
"Ages ago," he said, "in the days of the good king Lobenba and PrinceKarmos"--here he kissed his hand as a sign of reverence, as did all hislisteners--"there was a poor man, a cowherd, who lived a very righteouslife, nor did he commit any sin. But he was terribly poor, starvingbecause he had not the wherewithal to supply himself with food. One nightwhile asleep in his lonely hut on the mountain over against the Grave ofEnemies, a vision appeared to him, and he saw standing before him the godZomara"--more hand-kissing--"in a flame of fire. And the King ofCrocodiles said to him: 'Gogo, I have seen thy poverty and am come togive thee succour. I have seen how, even in the days when no food hathpassed thy lips, thou hast never committed theft, nor borrowed not toreturn, and now thou shalt have great wealth. Speed early to-morrow tothy friend Djerad and borrow his black horse. I will put it in his mindto lend it thee; and take this horse and ride it to the Gate of Mo, andthen leap on thy horse from the precipice, and assuredly thou wilt findgreat wealth.'
"Ere Gogo had time to thank the great god--whose name be exalted aboveall others--he had vanished. Early he rose, donned his ragged garments,set forth and begged the loan of the black horse of Djerad, his friend.After a ride of many hours, he came at sundown to the Gate of Mo, andgazed over the fearful precipice. Gathering the reins in his hand he rodeback a little distance, then gallopped full speed to the brink. But hisheart failed him, and on the edge he reined his horse for fear.
"Nine times he essayed to go, but each time his courage was insufficient.While he was sitting on his horse, preparing for the tenth time to obeythe instructions, he heard a great noise behind him, and turning, saw thegod Zomara with fire bursting from his mouth and streams of light in hiseyes, crawling towards him.
"'Weak man,' he cried, as he passed. 'Thou fearest to obey. Follow me.'
"An instant later the great crocodile had crawled over the edge of theprecipice, and a moment afterwards Gogo had followed his example. Itseemed as if he were in the air an hour, but suddenly his horse's hoofstouched earth again; the animal never fell into the terrible abyss, butmerely tore up a piece of the turf where he had stood. He looked around;Zomara had disappeared, but in the hole that the horse's hoof had causedhe saw a large ring of iron. Dismounting, he tried to raise it, but onlyafter two hours' work he succeeded in moving it and excavating from itshiding-place an enormous chest filled with gold pieces and costly jewels,and so he lived in affluence the remainder of his life, till Zomara tookhim to be one of his councillors. So are the righteous rewarded."
Then some thick-lipped musicians struck up music on quaintly-shapedstringed instruments, and the strange old man, bearing a kind oftambourine in his hand, came round to collect coins, the collection beingrepeated at the conclusion of each legend.
In one of his stories mention was made in the most matter-of-fact mannerof a sick person being buried alive. This caused me to address somequestions to Liola, who, seated near me, told me that this terriblecustom was one recently introduced by the Naya.
"The ghastly practice is supposed to appease Zomara and give us victoryover our enemies," she said. "As soon as any serious illness setteth in,the patient is taken from his house wrapped in his best robes, depositedin a grave and then covered with earth. No one in Mo now dieth a naturaldeath. When the body hath been placed in the grave, the friends of thedead man set forth to kill the first living creature they can encounter,man, woman or beast, believing that through their victim their friendhath been compelled to die. When thus in search of an expiatory victim,they take the precaution of breaking off young shoots of the shrubs asthey pass by, leaving the broken ends hanging in the direction they aregoing as a warning to people to shun that path. Even should one of theirown relatives be the first to meet the avengers they dare not suffer himto escape."
"Life is not very secure in Mo when sickness rageth," I observed.
"No," she replied, sighing. "It is merely one of the many horriblepractices the Naya hath introduced into our land. Whether a man is buriedalive, or whether he dieth in the fight, his kinsmen at once assemble anddestroy all his goods, saving only his vessels of gold which areconfiscated for the Naya's use. The curse of Zomara would fall heavilyupon anyone who attempteth to make use of any article once owned by adead person. After the destruction of the property hath taken place thehouse is filled with the fumes of burning resin. The guests then sit inthe perfumed atmosphere drinking large draughts of fiery liquids and givevent to their feelings in violent shouts."
"A strange custom, indeed," I said, astonished. "And it is only of recentintroduction?"
"When, three years ago the ancient Temple of Zomara was discoveredbeneath the earth and all in Mo descended to witness its wonders, theNaya gave orders for the custom, as I have described, to be rigorouslyobserved," she answered, turning her clear, trusting eyes upon Omar asshe spoke.
Soon afterwards she left us in order to give some orders to the slaves,and the story-teller and musicians also departing, Goliba brought inthree of the provincial governors who had visited us on the last occasionwe had been the aged sage's guests, and together we discussed andcriticised for the last time the arrangements made for the revolt. Afteran hour's consultation these men again departed, and Goliba himselfhaving brought us our arms, consisting of an English-made magazine-rifleeach, some ammunition, and a short but very keen sword manufactured inMo, left to make a tour of his house to personally inspect the measurestaken for its defence.
The next hour was so full of breathless excitement that we dared onlyconverse in whispers. The atmosphere was hot and oppressive, the sky hadgrown dark and overcast, threatening ominously, while ever and anon couldbe heard the faint clank of arms; men, tall, dark and mysterious, passedand repassed along the dark colonnades, or stood in knots leaning ontheir rifles discussing the situation in undertones.
On returning to us our host told us that the store of arms we had seen,as well as others in various neighbourhoods, had all been distributed,and that the whole city was awaiting the signal.
"Roughly speaking, thou hast in the capital alone thirty thousandadherents," the councillor said to Omar. "Thou hast
therefore nothing tofear. The path to victory is straight, and little danger lurketh there."
Almost ere these words had fallen from his lips, loud shouting sounded atthe door that gave entrance to the patio wherein we stood, and we werestartled to notice a scuffle taking place between a number of those whowere about to guard the house and some would-be intruders. Yet ere wecould realise the true state of affairs, we saw dozens of the royalsoldiers scrambling down from the walls on every side, rifles flashedhere and there, and within a few moments the place was in possession ofthe troops of the Naya.
"We seek Omar, the prince, and his companions," cried a man in a shininggolden breastplate, evidently an officer of high rank, striding up toGoliba. "We hold orders from the Naya to capture them, and take them tothe palace. We know thou hast harboured them."
Before our host could reply twenty of the fighting-men of Mo, havingrecognized us, dashed across, and notwithstanding our resistance, hadseized us. Goliba, too, was quickly made prisoner, and above the shoutingand hoarse imprecations we heard in the darkness a loud piercing woman'sscream.
Liola had also fallen into their hands!
We fought our captors with all the strength of which we were capable, butwere unarmed, for on receiving the rifles and swords from Goliba we hadplaced them together at a little distance away in a corner of the court.It took fully a dozen stalwart soldiers to hold the black giant Kona, andeven then it was as much as they could do to prevent him from severelymauling them. His grip was like a vice; his fist hard as iron.
In the hands of three of these white robed soldiers, who had on ourarrival in Mo cheered and belauded us, I struggled fiercely, but to noavail, for they dragged us all onward across the patio and out into thestreet, now crowded by those attracted by the unusual disturbance in thehouse of the Naya's councillor. The huge grim gateway of the royal palacestood facing the end of the long, broad thoroughfare, and from where westood we had an uninterrupted view of it. Our arrest was indeed adisaster when we seemed within an ace of success. The people regarded usindifferently as we were hurried up the hill towards the great stone archwith its massive watch-towers, and it appeared as though the swiftdecisive step of securing the ringleaders of the revolt had entirelycrushed it, for the people, instead of showing defiance, shrank back fromthe soldiers, cowed and submissive.
Suddenly, as we went forward, the great bell in one of the high turretsof the Naya's stronghold boomed forth the first stroke of the midnighthour.
Then, in an instant, a bright red flash blinded us, followed by a reportso deafening, that the very rock whereon the city was built trembled, andwe saw amid the dense smoke before us the great black gateway, with itswatch towers where the sentries were pacing, break away, and shoot inhuge masses high towards the sky.
The explosion was terrific; its effect appalling. The glare lit the wholecity for a brief second with a light like a stormy sunset, then upon usshowered great pieces of iron and stone with mangled human limbs, the_debris_ of a gateway that for centuries had been considered absolutelyimpregnable.
The first blow against tyranny and oppression had been struck, terribleand decisive. It was the people's call to arms. Would they respond?