8
Delcarte and Taylor were now in mid-stream, coming toward us, and Icalled to them to keep aloof until I knew whether the intentions of mycaptors were friendly or otherwise. My good men wanted to come on andannihilate the blacks. But there were upward of a hundred of thelatter, all well armed, and so I commanded Delcarte to keep out ofharm's way, and stay where he was till I needed him.
A young officer called and beckoned to them. But they refused to come,and so he gave orders that resulted in my hands being secured at myback, after which the company marched away, straight toward the east.
I noticed that the men wore spurs, which seemed strange to me. Butwhen, late in the afternoon, we arrived at their encampment, Idiscovered that my captors were cavalrymen.
In the center of a plain stood a log fort, with a blockhouse at each ofits four corners. As we approached, I saw a herd of cavalry horsesgrazing under guard outside the walls of the post. They were small,stocky horses, but the telltale saddle galls proclaimed their calling.The flag flying from a tall staff inside the palisade was one which Ihad never before seen nor heard of.
We marched directly into the compound, where the company was dismissed,with the exception of a guard of four privates, who escorted me in thewake of the young officer. The latter led us across a small paradeground, where a battery of light field guns was parked, and toward alog building, in front of which rose the flagstaff.
I was escorted within the building into the presence of an old negro, afine looking man, with a dignified and military bearing. He was acolonel, I was to learn later, and to him I owe the very humanetreatment that was accorded me while I remained his prisoner.
He listened to the report of his junior, and then turned to questionme, but with no better results than the former had accomplished. Thenhe summoned an orderly, and gave some instructions. The soldiersaluted, and left the room, returning in about five minutes with ahairy old white man--just such a savage, primeval-looking fellow as Ihad discovered in the woods the day that Snider had disappeared withthe launch.
The colonel evidently expected to use the fellow as interpreter, butwhen the savage addressed me it was in a language as foreign to me aswas that of the blacks. At last the old officer gave it up, and,shaking his head, gave instructions for my removal.
From his office I was led to a guardhouse, in which I found about fiftyhalf-naked whites, clad in the skins of wild beasts. I tried toconverse with them, but not one of them could understand Pan-American,nor could I make head or tail of their jargon.
For over a month I remained a prisoner there, working from morninguntil night at odd jobs about the headquarters building of thecommanding officer. The other prisoners worked harder than I did, andI owe my better treatment solely to the kindliness and discriminationof the old colonel.
What had become of Victory, of Delcarte, of Taylor I could not know;nor did it seem likely that I should ever learn. I was most depressed.But I whiled away my time in performing the duties given me to the bestof my ability and attempting to learn the language of my captors.
Who they were or where they came from was a mystery to me. That theywere the outpost of some powerful black nation seemed likely, yet wherethe seat of that nation lay I could not guess.
They looked upon the whites as their inferiors, and treated usaccordingly. They had a literature of their own, and many of the men,even the common soldiers, were omnivorous readers. Every two weeks adust-covered trooper would trot his jaded mount into the post anddeliver a bulging sack of mail at headquarters. The next day he wouldbe away again upon a fresh horse toward the south, carrying thesoldiers' letters to friends in the far off land of mystery from whencethey all had come.
Troops, sometimes mounted and sometimes afoot, left the post daily forwhat I assumed to be patrol duty. I judged the little force of athousand men were detailed here to maintain the authority of a distantgovernment in a conquered country. Later, I learned that my surmisewas correct, and this was but one of a great chain of similar poststhat dotted the new frontier of the black nation into whose hands I hadfallen.
Slowly I learned their tongue, so that I could understand what was saidbefore me, and make myself understood. I had seen from the first thatI was being treated as a slave--that all whites that fell into thehands of the blacks were thus treated.
Almost daily new prisoners were brought in, and about three weeks afterI was brought in to the post a troop of cavalry came from the south torelieve one of the troops stationed there. There was great jubilationin the encampment after the arrival of the newcomers, old friendshipswere renewed and new ones made. But the happiest men were those of thetroop that was to be relieved.
The next morning they started away, and as they were forced upon theparade ground we prisoners were marched from our quarters and lined upbefore them. A couple of long chains were brought, with rings in thelinks every few feet. At first I could not guess the purpose of thesechains. But I was soon to learn.
A couple of soldiers snapped the first ring around the neck of apowerful white slave, and one by one the rest of us were herded to ourplaces, and the work of shackling us neck to neck commenced.
The colonel stood watching the procedure. Presently his eyes fell uponme, and he spoke to a young officer at his side. The latter steppedtoward me and motioned me to follow him. I did so, and was led back tothe colonel.
By this time I could understand a few words of their strange language,and when the colonel asked me if I would prefer to remain at the postas his body servant, I signified my willingness as emphatically aspossible, for I had seen enough of the brutality of the common soldierstoward their white slaves to have no desire to start out upon a marchof unknown length, chained by the neck, and driven on by the greatwhips that a score of the soldiers carried to accelerate the speed oftheir charges.
About three hundred prisoners who had been housed in six prisons at thepost marched out of the gates that morning, toward what fate and whatfuture I could not guess. Neither had the poor devils themselves morethan the most vague conception of what lay in store for them, exceptthat they were going elsewhere to continue in the slavery that they hadknown since their capture by their black conquerors--a slavery that wasto continue until death released them.
My position was altered at the post. From working about theheadquarters office, I was transferred to the colonel's livingquarters. I had greater freedom, and no longer slept in one of theprisons, but had a little room to myself off the kitchen of thecolonel's log house.
My master was always kind to me, and under him I rapidly learned thelanguage of my captors, and much concerning them that had been amystery to me before. His name was Abu Belik. He was a colonel in thecavalry of Abyssinia, a country of which I do not remember everhearing, but which Colonel Belik assured me is the oldest civilizedcountry in the world.
Colonel Belik was born in Adis Abeba, the capital of the empire, anduntil recently had been in command of the emperor's palace guard.Jealousy and the ambition and intrigue of another officer had lost himthe favor of his emperor, and he had been detailed to this frontierpost as a mark of his sovereign's displeasure.
Some fifty years before, the young emperor, Menelek XIV, was ambitious.He knew that a great world lay across the waters far to the north ofhis capital. Once he had crossed the desert and looked out upon theblue sea that was the northern boundary of his dominions.
There lay another world to conquer. Menelek busied himself with thebuilding of a great fleet, though his people were not a maritime race.His army crossed into Europe. It met with little resistance, and forfifty years his soldiers had been pushing his boundaries farther andfarther toward the north.
"The yellow men from the east and north are contesting our rights herenow," said the colonel, "but we shall win--we shall conquer the world,carrying Christianity to all the benighted heathen of Europe, and Asiaas well."
"You are a Christian people?" I asked.
He looked at me in sur
prise, nodding his head affirmatively.
"I am a Christian," I said. "My people are the most powerful on earth."
He smiled, and shook his head indulgently, as a father to a child whosets up his childish judgment against that of his elders.
Then I set out to prove my point. I told him of our cities, of ourarmy, of our great navy. He came right back at me asking for figures,and when he was done I had to admit that only in our navy were wenumerically superior.
Menelek XIV is the undisputed ruler of all the continent of Africa, ofall of ancient Europe except the British Isles, Scandinavia, andeastern Russia, and has large possessions and prosperous colonies inwhat once were Arabia and Turkey in Asia.
He has a standing army of ten million men, and his people possessslaves--white slaves--to the number of ten or fifteen million.
Colonel Belik was much surprised, however, upon his part to learn ofthe great nation which lay across the ocean, and when he found that Iwas a naval officer, he was inclined to accord me even greaterconsideration than formerly. It was difficult for him to believe myassertion that there were but few blacks in my country, and that theseoccupied a lower social plane than the whites.
Just the reverse is true in Colonel Belik's land. He considered whitesinferior beings, creatures of a lower order, and assuring me that eventhe few white freemen of Abyssinia were never accorded anythingapproximating a position of social equality with the blacks. They livein the poorer districts of the cities, in little white colonies, and ablack who marries a white is socially ostracized.
The arms and ammunition of the Abyssinians are greatly inferior toours, yet they are tremendously effective against the ill-armedbarbarians of Europe. Their rifles are of a type similar to themagazine rifles of twentieth century Pan-America, but carrying onlyfive cartridges in the magazine, in addition to the one in the chamber.They are of extraordinary length, even those of the cavalry, and are ofextreme accuracy.
The Abyssinians themselves are a fine looking race of black men--tall,muscular, with fine teeth, and regular features, which inclinedistinctly toward Semitic mold--I refer to the full-blooded natives ofAbyssinia. They are the patricians--the aristocracy. The army isofficered almost exclusively by them. Among the soldiery a lower typeof negro predominates, with thicker lips and broader, flatter noses.These men are recruited, so the colonel told me, from among theconquered tribes of Africa. They are good soldiers--brave and loyal.They can read and write, and they are endowed with a self-confidenceand pride which, from my readings of the words of ancient Africanexplorers, must have been wanting in their earliest progenitors. Onthe whole, it is apparent that the black race has thrived far better inthe past two centuries under men of its own color than it had under thedomination of whites during all previous history.
I had been a prisoner at the little frontier post for over a month,when orders came to Colonel Belik to hasten to the eastern frontierwith the major portion of his command, leaving only one troop togarrison the fort. As his body servant, I accompanied him mounted upona fiery little Abyssinian pony.
We marched rapidly for ten days through the heart of the ancient Germanempire, halting when night found us in proximity to water. Often wepassed small posts similar to that at which the colonel's regiment hadbeen quartered, finding in each instance that only a single company ortroop remained for defence, the balance having been withdrawn towardthe northeast, in the same direction in which we were moving.
Naturally, the colonel had not confided to me the nature of his orders.But the rapidity of our march and the fact that all available troopswere being hastened toward the northeast assured me that a matter ofvital importance to the dominion of Menelek XIV in that part of Europewas threatening or had already broken.
I could not believe that a simple rising of the savage tribes of whiteswould necessitate the mobilizing of such a force as we presently metwith converging from the south into our trail. There were large bodiesof cavalry and infantry, endless streams of artillery wagons and guns,and countless horse-drawn covered vehicles laden with camp equipage,munitions, and provisions.
Here, for the first time, I saw camels, great caravans of them, bearingall sorts of heavy burdens, and miles upon miles of elephants doingsimilar service. It was a scene of wondrous and barbaric splendor, forthe men and beasts from the south were gaily caparisoned in richcolors, in marked contrast to the gray uniformed forces of thefrontier, with which I had been familiar.
The rumor reached us that Menelek himself was coming, and the pitch ofexcitement to which this announcement raised the troops was littleshort of miraculous--at least, to one of my race and nationality whoserulers for centuries had been but ordinary men, holding office at thewill of the people for a few brief years.
As I witnessed it, I could not but speculate upon the moral effect uponhis troops of a sovereign's presence in the midst of battle. All elsebeing equal in war between the troops of a republic and an empire,could not this exhilarated mental state, amounting almost to hysteriaon the part of the imperial troops, weigh heavily against the soldiersof a president? I wonder.
But if the emperor chanced to be absent? What then? Again I wonder.
On the eleventh day we reached our destination--a walled frontier cityof about twenty thousand. We passed some lakes, and crossed some oldcanals before entering the gates. Within, beside the frame buildings,were many built of ancient brick and well-cut stone. These, I wastold, were of material taken from the ruins of the ancient city which,once, had stood upon the site of the present town.
The name of the town, translated from the Abyssinian, is New Gondar.It stands, I am convinced, upon the ruins of ancient Berlin, the onetime capital of the old German empire, but except for the old buildingmaterial used in the new town there is no sign of the former city.
The day after we arrived, the town was gaily decorated with flags,streamers, gorgeous rugs, and banners, for the rumor had provedtrue--the emperor was coming.
Colonel Belik had accorded me the greatest liberty, permitting me to gowhere I pleased, after my few duties had been performed. As a resultof his kindness, I spent much time wandering about New Gondar, talkingwith the inhabitants, and exploring the city of black men.
As I had been given a semi-military uniform which bore insigniaindicating that I was an officer's body servant, even the blackstreated me with a species of respect, though I could see by theirmanner that I was really as the dirt beneath their feet. They answeredmy questions civilly enough, but they would not enter into conversationwith me. It was from other slaves that I learned the gossip of thecity.
Troops were pouring in from the west and south, and pouring out towardthe east. I asked an old slave who was sweeping the dirt into littlepiles in the gutters of the street where the soldiers were going. Helooked at me in surprise.
"Why, to fight the yellow men, of course," he said. "They have crossedthe border, and are marching toward New Gondar."
"Who will win?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?" he said. "I hope it will bethe yellow men, but Menelek is powerful--it will take many yellow mento defeat him."
Crowds were gathering along the sidewalks to view the emperor's entryinto the city. I took my place among them, although I hate crowds, andI am glad that I did, for I witnessed such a spectacle of barbaricsplendor as no other Pan-American has ever looked upon.
Down the broad main thoroughfare, which may once have been the historicUnter den Linden, came a brilliant cortege. At the head rode aregiment of red-coated hussars--enormous men, black as night. Therewere troops of riflemen mounted on camels. The emperor rode in agolden howdah upon the back of a huge elephant so covered with richhangings and embellished with scintillating gems that scarce more thanthe beast's eyes and feet were visible.
Menelek was a rather gross-looking man, well past middle age, but hecarried himself with an air of dignity befitting one descended inunbroken line from the Prophet--as was his claim.
Hi
s eyes were bright but crafty, and his features denoted bothsensuality and cruelness. In his youth he may have been a rather finelooking black, but when I saw him his appearance was revolting--to me,at least.
Following the emperor came regiment after regiment from the variousbranches of the service, among them batteries of field guns mounted onelephants.
In the center of the troops following the imperial elephant marched agreat caravan of slaves. The old street sweeper at my elbow told methat these were the gifts brought in from the far outlying districts bythe commanding officers of the frontier posts. The majority of themwere women, destined, I was told, for the harems of the emperor and hisfavorites. It made my old companion clench his fists to see those poorwhite women marching past to their horrid fates, and, though I sharedhis sentiments, I was as powerless to alter their destinies as he.
For a week the troops kept pouring in and out of New Gondar--in,always, from the south and west, but always toward the east. Each newcontingent brought its gifts to the emperor. From the south theybrought rugs and ornaments and jewels; from the west, slaves; for thecommanding officers of the western frontier posts had naught else tobring.
From the number of women they brought, I judged that they knew theweakness of their imperial master.
And then soldiers commenced coming in from the east, but not with thegay assurance of those who came from the south and west--no, theseothers came in covered wagons, blood-soaked and suffering. They cameat first in little parties of eight or ten, and then they came infifties, in hundreds, and one day a thousand maimed and dying men werecarted into New Gondar.
It was then that Menelek XIV became uneasy. For fifty years his armieshad conquered wherever they had marched. At first he had led them inperson, lately his presence within a hundred miles of the battle linehad been sufficient for large engagements--for minor ones only theknowledge that they were fighting for the glory of their sovereign wasnecessary to win victories.
One morning, New Gondar was awakened by the booming of cannon. It wasthe first intimation that the townspeople had received that the enemywas forcing the imperial troops back upon the city. Dust coveredcouriers galloped in from the front. Fresh troops hastened from thecity, and about noon Menelek rode out surrounded by his staff.
For three days thereafter we could hear the cannonading and thespitting of the small arms, for the battle line was scarce two leaguesfrom New Gondar. The city was filled with wounded. Just outside,soldiers were engaged in throwing up earthworks. It was evident to theleast enlightened that Menelek expected further reverses.
And then the imperial troops fell back upon these new defenses, or,rather, they were forced back by the enemy. Shells commenced to fallwithin the city. Menelek returned and took up his headquarters in thestone building that was called the palace. That night came a lull inthe hostilities--a truce had been arranged.
Colonel Belik summoned me about seven o'clock to dress him for afunction at the palace. In the midst of death and defeat the emperorwas about to give a great banquet to his officers. I was to accompanymy master and wait upon him--I, Jefferson Turck, lieutenant in thePan-American navy!
In the privacy of the colonel's quarters I had become accustomed to mymenial duties, lightened as they were by the natural kindliness of mymaster, but the thought of appearing in public as a common slaverevolted every fine instinct within me. Yet there was nothing for itbut to obey.
I cannot, even now, bring myself to a narration of the humiliationwhich I experienced that night as I stood behind my black master insilent servility, now pouring his wine, now cutting up his meats forhim, now fanning him with a large, plumed fan of feathers.
As fond as I had grown of him, I could have thrust a knife into him, sokeenly did I feel the affront that had been put upon me. But at lastthe long banquet was concluded. The tables were removed. The emperorascended a dais at one end of the room and seated himself upon athrone, and the entertainment commenced. It was only what ancienthistory might have led me to expect--musicians, dancing girls,jugglers, and the like.
Near midnight, the master of ceremonies announced that the slave womenwho had been presented to the emperor since his arrival in New Gondarwould be exhibited, that the royal host would select such as he wished,after which he would present the balance of them to his guests. Ah,what royal generosity!
A small door at one side of the room opened, and the poor creaturesfiled in and were ranged in a long line before the throne. Their backswere toward me. I saw only an occasional profile as now and then abolder spirit among them turned to survey the apartment and thegorgeous assemblage of officers in their brilliant dress uniforms.They were profiles of young girls, and pretty, but horror was indeliblystamped upon them all. I shuddered as I contemplated their sad fate,and turned my eyes away.
I heard the master of ceremonies command them to prostrate themselvesbefore the emperor, and the sounds as they went upon their knees beforehim, touching their foreheads to the floor. Then came the official'svoice again, in sharp and peremptory command.
"Down, slave!" he cried. "Make obeisance to your sovereign!"
I looked up, attracted by the tone of the man's voice, to see a single,straight, slim figure standing erect in the center of the line ofprostrate girls, her arms folded across her breast and little chin inthe air. Her back was toward me--I could not see her face, though Ishould like to see the countenance of this savage young lioness,standing there defiant among that herd of terrified sheep.
"Down! Down!" shouted the master of ceremonies, taking a step towardher and half drawing his sword.
My blood boiled. To stand there, inactive, while a negro struck downthat brave girl of my own race! Instinctively I took a forward step toplace myself in the man's path. But at the same instant Menelek raisedhis hand in a gesture that halted the officer. The emperor seemedinterested, but in no way angered at the girl's attitude.
"Let us inquire," he said in a smooth, pleasant voice, "why this youngwoman refuses to do homage to her sovereign," and he put the questionhimself directly to her.
She answered him in Abyssinian, but brokenly and with an accent thatbetrayed how recently she had acquired her slight knowledge of thetongue.
"I go on my knees to no one," she said. "I have no sovereign. Imyself am sovereign in my own country."
Menelek, at her words, leaned back in his throne and laugheduproariously. Following his example, which seemed always the correctprocedure, the assembled guests vied with one another in an effort tolaugh more noisily than the emperor.
The girl but tilted her chin a bit higher in the air--even her backproclaimed her utter contempt for her captors. Finally Menelekrestored quiet by the simple expedient of a frown, whereupon each loyalguest exchanged his mirthful mien for an emulative scowl.
"And who," asked Menelek, "are you, and by what name is your countrycalled?"
"I am Victory, Queen of Grabritin," replied the girl so quickly and sounexpectedly that I gasped in astonishment.