CHAPTER V.
THE GIANT'S FINGER.
FOR quite three weeks we pushed forward through the interminable forestuntil one day we came to a small village beyond which lay a great broadriver glistening in the noon-day sun. It was the mighty Comoe. We hadentered the kingdom of Anno. In the village I saw traces of humansacrifices, and Omar, in reply to a question, told me that although thesehappy-looking natives were very skilful weavers and dyers who did abrisk trade in _fu_, a bark cloth of excellent quality--which I foundafterwards they manufactured from the bark of a tree apparently of thesame species as the much-talked-of _rokko_ of Uganda--they neverthelessat the death of a chief sacrificed some of his slaves to "water thegrave," while the memory of the departed was also honoured with grossorgies which lasted till everything eatable or drinkable in the villagewas consumed.
We only remained there a few hours, then embarked in three large canoesthat were moored to the bank awaiting us. The chief of the village cameto pay his respects to Omar, as the son of a ruling monarch, andpresented us with food according to the usual custom.
Soon, amid the shouts of the excited villagers who had all come down tosee us start, our canoes were pushed off, and the carriers, glad to berelieved of their packs, took the paddles, and away we went gaily up thecentre of the winding river. Emerging as suddenly as we had from thegloomy forest depths where no warmth penetrated, into the blazingtropical sun was a sudden change that almost overcame me, for as we rowedalong without shelter the rays beat down upon us mercilessly.
The banks were for the most part low, although it was impossible to saywhat height they were because of the lofty hedges of creeping plantswhich covered every inch of ground from the water's edge to as high asfifty feet above in some places, while behind them towered theblack-green forest with here and there bunches of brilliant flowers orglimpses of countless grey trunks. Sometimes these trees, pressing rightup to the edge of the warm sluggish water, grew horizontally to thelength of fifty feet over the river. Creepers, vines, whip-like calamus,twisting lianes and great serpent-like convolvuli grew in profusion overeverything, while the eye caught glimpses everywhere of gorgeous cloudsof insects, gaily-plumaged birds, paraquets, and monkeys swinging intheir shaded bowers.
Basking on the banks were crocodiles and hippopotami, while the riveritself swarmed with fish and water-snakes. And over all rose the mistcaused by heat and moisture, the death-dealing miasma of that tropicworld.
But all were in good spirits, for rowing was more pleasurable thantramping in that dismal monotonous primeval forest that rose on eitherside, therefore against the broad, slowly-flowing waters our carriersbent to their paddles, grinning and joking the while.
Throughout that day Kouaga sat near us, smoking and thinking. Perhaps theresponsibilities of State weighed heavily upon him; perhaps he wascontemplating with trepidation the passage that would be necessarythrough a country held by the enemies of Mo; at all events he was moroseand taciturn, his dark face bearing a strange, stern look such as I hadnever before noticed.
During the weeks I had been travelling up country I had embraced everyopportunity of improving my knowledge of the curious language spoken byOmar and his mother's subjects, until I found I could understand a largeportion of a conversation and could even give directions to our carriersin their own tongue.
Omar was in high spirits, eager, it seemed, to return to his own people.He took a gun and some ammunition from one of the cases that Kouaga hadconveyed from England and gave us an exhibition of his skill with therifle. He was a dead shot. I had no idea he could aim so true. As we spedpast in our canoe he would raise his weapon from time to time and pickoff a bird upon the wing, or fire directly into the eye of some baskinganimal, causing it to utter a roar, lash its tail and disappear to die.He seldom missed, and the accuracy of his aim elicited from the sablerowers low grunts of admiration.
A lazy and enjoyable week we thus spent in the ascent of the Comoe,mostly through forest scenery or undulating grass-lands. By day ourrowers bent with rhythmic music to their paddles, and at evening we woulddisembark, cook our food, and afterwards with Kouaga and my friend Iwould sleep in our canoe upon the heap of leopard skins that formed ourcouches. Here we were free from the pest of the myriad insects we hadencountered in the forest; and at night, under the brilliant moon, thenoble river and giant trees presented a fine picture of solitarygrandeur. Onward we pressed through the flourishing country of theJimini, where we saw many prosperous villages of large roomy houses ofrectangular form and reed thatched, wide tracts under cultivation withwell-kept crops of cotton and rice. Everywhere we passed, withoutopposition, and with expressions of good-will from the natives.
One evening when the blood-red sun had sunk low in the water behind us,we suddenly rounded a sharp bend of the river and there burst upon us,rising on our right high into the clouds, the great snow-capped crest ofMount Komono. Near its base it was hidden by a bank of cloud, but aboveall was clear and bright, so that the summit had the appearance of beingsuspended in mid-air.
"The Giant's Finger at last!" cried Omar, jumping up excitedly andpointing at the mountain. "We leave the river a little higher up, andpush again across the bush a twelve days' journey until we come to theVolta, which will take us forward to the boundary of Mo."
"The Volta!" I cried, remembering the incident at school when he hadanswered correctly the master's question as to the estuary of that river,and had been dubbed "the Guinea Pig." "Why could we not have ascended itfrom the sea?"
"Because we should, by so doing, pass nearly the whole distance throughthe country of Prempeh, of Ashanti, one of our bitter foes. The Adoo, theAnno, and the Jimini kings have long ago made blood-brotherhood with ourchiefs, therefore we are enabled to pass in peace by this route alone."
Before darkness fell we disembarked at a small village on the left bank,the name of which I learnt was Tomboura, and after our evening meal weregiven a hut in which to spend the night. Soon after dawn, however, weheard Kouaga astir, giving rapid orders to the carriers, and when we wentout to go down to the canoes they were nowhere to be seen. We noticed,however, that the carriers were preparing their loads which they had nodoubt landed during the night, and Omar, advancing towards the GrandVizier, asked:
"Why do we not ascend the river further? We must cross to the other sideif we would join the Great Salt Road."
"Dangers lurk there, O my Master," the negro answered, hitching hisburnouse about his shoulders. "We must travel by a circuitous route."
"Did not my mother command me to speed unto her?" Omar asked, puzzled."Is it not necessary that we should travel by the shortest path?"
"The safest is the shortest," Kouaga answered with a frown.
"But by following this bank we are turning our backs upon Mo. See!" andhe produced from his pocket an instrument which I did not know hepossessed, a cheap mariner's compass.
"Bah!" cried Kouaga in anger, after he had looked at it a long time."That clock of the white men has an evil spirit within. See! itstrembling finger points always in the direction of the Great Evil. It isbewitched. Cast it away. Kouaga has already made fetish for thisjourney."
"But why should we travel in an entirely opposite direction to Mo?" Iargued, seeing that a crowd of grinning impish-looking carriers hadgathered around us, enjoying our controversy.
"For three-score years Kouaga has lived in the forest and on the plains,"he answered, turning to me. "He knows the direction of Mo."
"Oh, let him have his own way," Omar cried at last, finding persuasion ofno avail. Then turning to the Grand Vizier he said in a firm tone:"Listen, Kouaga. If by your obstinacy we are delayed one single day, Ishall inform my mother of that fact, and you will assuredly lose youroffice and most likely your head also. Therefore act as you think fit.Omar, Prince of Mo, has spoken."
"Kouaga bore the staff of the Great White Queen unto thee. He is thetrusted of the Naya, if not of her son," the negro answered, turningaway. But in that brief instant I noticed an expression o
n his face ofrelentless cruelty. An expression such as one might expect to see uponthe face of a murderer.
Truth to tell, I had never liked Kouaga; now I instinctively hated him.But ere he had strode a dozen paces he turned back smiling, saying:
"I mean no defiance to the Son of my Queen. He is in my charge, and Iwill take him safely back unto Mo, the city with walls unbreakable, thecapital of the kingdom unconquerable."
"I shall act as I have decided," Omar answered with true princelyhauteur. "The rulers of Mo never depart from their word."
"Very well," the other answered laughing, at the same time lighting hispipe with cool indifference. Then, glancing round to see that all wasready, he shouted an order to the head-man and the string of carriersmoved away, jabbering and shouting, down the path into the dark gloomyforest depths.
In ill-humour we followed. I must confess that towards Kouaga Ientertained an ill-defined feeling of distrust. Once or twice during thatday's march in the dull dispiriting gloom, almost every ray of daylightbeing shut out by the thick canopy of creepers spreading from tree totree, I had caught Omar surreptitiously consulting his pocket compass,and saw upon his face a look of anxiety. Yet, on the other hand, Kouagahad become particularly jocular, and the carriers were now singingsnatches of songs, joking, and laughing good-humouredly at each other'smisfortunes, whereas on our journey from the coast to the river they hadgenerally preserved a sullen silence.
No. Try how I would I could not rid myself of the thought that there wassomething very mysterious in Kouaga's actions.