Chapter Eighteen.
Doomed to the torture.
“You must cure him—you must, for your own sake, Dick!” Exactly. In uttering those words Ama unconsciously disclosed how slight was her confidence in the influence over her father, of which she had been boasting only a moment or two before the arrival of the summons for me to attend that father on his bed of sickness. It was all very well for her to tell me that I must cure him; but suppose that I could not, suppose that the sickness—whatever it might be—should run its course and fail to yield to my treatment, what then? The reason, so urgently expressed by her, why I must effect a cure—“for your own sake, Dick,”—was significant enough of the direction in which her apprehensions pointed; there was no necessity for me to inquire what she meant. I must cure the king, or it would be so much the worse for me! And how was I to cure him? My knowledge of disease was of the slightest and most amateurish kind, and, for aught that I could tell to the contrary, might not even be sufficient to enable me to diagnose the case correctly, much less to treat it successfully! However, there was no use in meeting trouble half-way; the only possible course was to obey the summons forthwith, and do my best, leaving the result in the hands of Providence. I accordingly rose to my feet and, motioning the guards to lead the way, followed them to the palace, with Ama walking by my side and holding my hand in a protective sort of way.
The distance from my hut to the palace was but a few yards; and we quickly arrived at our destination, being at once conducted into the presence of the king, who, stretched upon a couch, and evidently suffering severe pain in his internal organs, was surrounded by the somewhat numerous members of his family.
As I approached the side of his couch he gazed at me with lack-lustre eyes and groaningly said:
“I am very sick, O Dick; my entrails are being burnt up within me! Cure me at once and I will give thee my daughter Ama as thy wife and make thee a powerful chief!”
“I thank thee, Banda, for thy magnificently generous promises,” answered I, “but I will gladly do my utmost for thee without reward. Tell me, now, how long hast thou been like this?”
“Not very long,” answered the king; “perhaps while the sun has been climbing thus far,”—describing with his hand the arc of a circle measuring about seven degrees, or, say, half an hour—“I had just finished my breakfast when the pains seized me.”
“Ah!” remarked I, trying to look as though I knew all about it; “and of what did thy breakfast consist?”
“Of very little, for I am but a moderate eater,” answered the king. Let me consider. There was, first, a broiled fish, fresh from the river, with boiled yams; then a few roast plantains—not more than a dozen, I think; then the roast rib of a cow; a few handfuls of boiled rice; and—yes, I think that was all, except a bowl of jaro’—the latter being a kind of native beer.
It occurred to me that, probably, after this very “moderate” meal, his Majesty might be suffering from indigestion, although the “burning” pains in the stomach puzzled me a bit. I therefore came to the conclusion that if vomiting could be freely induced almost immediate relief ought to follow; and I accordingly prescribed the only emetic which I could think of at the moment, namely, copious draughts of warm water, followed by tickling the back of the throat with a feather. These means were so far successful that the patient acknowledged a certain measure of relief; but after a time the burning pains recurred and seemed to become more acute than ever, to my profound dismay; for, goaded almost to madness by the intensity of his suffering, the king was rapidly growing as dangerous as a wounded buffalo, and, between the paroxysms of his anguish, began to threaten all and sundry with certain pains and penalties, the mere enumeration of which made my flesh creep and plunged me into a cold perspiration.
At length, after a more than usually intense paroxysm of pain had passed, Gouroo, Banda’s favourite wife, who was present, and whose virulent animosity I had been unfortunate enough to arouse, bent over the patient and whispered something in his ear, the purport of which I could not catch. But it was a suggestion, the nature of which I was able to divine without difficulty, for, by way of reply, Banda ejaculated between his groans:
“Yes, yes; let Mafuta be instantly summoned. And as for the white man, let the presumptuous pretender be closely confined in his own hut until I can decide upon the nature of his punishment. Away with him at once; and if he is allowed to escape, the guards who have him in charge shall be nailed, head downward, to the crucifixion tree!”
Gouroo smiled a smile of triumphant malice as, in reply to her summons, two guards entered, and, seizing me roughly, hurried me away; while Ama, bathed in tears, flung herself upon her knees beside her father’s couch and vainly besought him to have mercy upon me. As I passed out of the room I saw the king, writhing in agony, rise upon his couch and strike the poor girl a violent blow, while he bellowed a fierce command to her to withdraw from his sight.
It was nearly noon when I was conducted back to my hut after my futile attempt to cure the king; and it was not until close upon sunset that I got any further news, when one of the guards who had me in charge informed me, as he brought in my supper, that Mafuta had completely cured the king within an hour of the moment when he was first summoned to his Majesty’s bedside; that Banda had already risen from his couch; and that, in requital for his service, Mafuta had claimed—and been granted—the right to dispose of me as he pleased upon the occasion of the forthcoming festival of the Customs! Which meant, of course, that I was to die by some exquisite refinement of torture, the nature of which would probably be too dreadful for description. For I very shrewdly suspected that Gouroo and Mafuta were equally interested in my downfall—might, indeed, have conspired in some mysterious manner to bring it about—and would probably take care that it should be as complete and disastrous as savage vindictiveness could make it.
The days now dragged themselves away upon leaden feet, yet—apparent paradox—with frightful rapidity; for I now no longer had a household to attend to my wants; my meals were brought to me with unfailing regularity by my guards, but they had apparently been forbidden to communicate with me, for not a word could I get out of them, good, bad, or indifferent. I was not permitted to show myself in the doorway of my dwelling, or even to approach it nearly enough to see what was going on; and in this dreadful solitude, waiting and hoping for I knew not what impossible happening to occur and effect my deliverance, each day seemed to drag itself out to the length of a month—until the darkness came; and then, with the realisation of the fact that I was so much nearer to a hideous fate, the hours seemed suddenly to have sped with lightning swiftness. The excited buzz and bustle of preparation pervaded the town all day, and every day, while night again became a pandemonium of barbarous sounds—for the tom-tom and flageolet concerts had been resumed with tenfold virulence since my incarceration—and on one occasion a terrific uproar announced the arrival of the unhappy prisoners who had been captured, in order that the festival might lose nothing of its importance or impressiveness through lack of a sufficient tale of victims; but I could not detect any indications of an attempt on the part of any one to communicate with me; and at length the latent hope that Ama’s boast of her influence with her father might be verified, and that she might succeed in inducing the king to spare me, died out, and I began to prepare myself, as best I could, to meet whatever fate might have in store for me with the fortitude befitting a Christian and an Englishman. But do not suppose that all this while I was supinely and tamely acquiescing in the fate that awaited me. Far from it. For the first few days of my captivity my brain was literally seething with schemes for effecting my escape, most of them wildly impossible, I admit; but some there were that seemed to promise just a ghost of a chance of success—until I attempted to put them into effect, when the vigilance of my guards—with the fear of crucifixion, head downward, before their eyes—invariably baffled me.
Thus the time passed on until the first day of the Customs dawned, when, having received a more than usually substantial meal, I was stripped of the few rags that still covered my nakedness, and, with my hands tightly bound behind me by a thin but strong raw-hide rope, was led forth to the great square wherein the Customs were celebrated, and firmly bound to one of the posts, the erection of which I had witnessed a week earlier. Of course I was but one of many who were to gasp out their lives in this dreadful Aceldama; and in a very short time each post, or stake, was decorated with its own separate victim, some of whom, it seemed, were to perish by the torture of fire, for after the victims had been secured to the stakes, huge bundles of faggots, composed of dry twigs and branches, were piled around some of them. What the fate of the rest of us was to be there was nothing to indicate, but I had no doubt that it would be something quite as dreadful as fire; and I had fully made up my mind that when my turn came I would endeavour, by insult and invective, to goad my tormentors to such a state of fury and exasperation as should provoke them to finish me off quickly.
All being now ready, the gate in the palisade was thrown open, a conch-shell was blown, and the waiting inhabitants began to pour into the enclosure with all the eagerness and excitement of an audience crowding into the unreserved portions of a theatre, and in a very short time the great square was full, the front ranks pressing close up to a cordon of armed guards that had been drawn round the circle of posts. Then, while the air vibrated with the hum and murmur of many excited tongues, shouts and a disturbance in the direction of the palace proclaimed the approach of the king and his household, and presently the entire party, numbering some three hundred, passed in and made their way to a kind of grand-stand, from which an admirable view of all the proceedings was to be obtained. I looked for Ama, but could not see her; Gouroo, however, was present and favoured me with a smile of malicious triumph. Banda himself took not the slightest notice of my presence.
No sooner were the royal party seated than a commotion on the opposite side of the square portended another arrival; and in a few minutes, through a narrow lane that had been formed in the dense mass of people, Mafuta and his myrmidons, to the number of nearly a hundred, came leaping and bounding into the open space beneath the crucifixion tree. Daubed all over their naked bodies with black, white, and red paint, with their hair gathered into a knot on the crown of the head, and decorated with long feathers, strings of big beads, and long strips of scarlet cloth—obtained from goodness knows where—with necklaces of birds’ and animals’ claws about their necks, and girdles of animals’ entrails round their waists, they presented as hideous and revolting a picture as can possibly be imagined as they went careering madly round the circle, each man waving a long spear over his head. Now I noticed a curiously subdued but distinct commotion among the spectators of the front rank, each of whom seemed anxious to surrender his apparently advantageous position to whomsoever might be willing to accept it. But, singularly enough, no one seemed desirous to avail himself of his neighbour’s generosity; and the reason soon became apparent; for presently, in the midst of their wild bounding round the inner edge of the tightly packed mass of spectators, they came to a sudden halt, and Mafuta, advancing alone, proceeded to “smell out” those who were supposed to be inimical to the king’s or his own authority, or against whom either of them had a secret grudge. With his body bent, his head thrust forward, and his nostrils working, he slowly passed along the inner face of the crowd, his shifty eyes darting hither and thither, until his gaze happened to fall upon one of the individuals for whom he was looking, when he would come to a halt, appear to be following a scent, and finally stretch forth his spear and lightly smite some man or woman on the head with it. The unhappy victim, thus “smelled out,” would thereupon be instantly taken in charge by Mafuta’s followers, and the process would be repeated until all those whose removal was desired had been gathered in. In the present case the victims numbered nearly a hundred, and the finding of them consumed the best part of two hours.
The process of “smelling out” being at an end, and those who had passed the ordeal unscathed being relieved of all further apprehension, the enormous crowd which had gathered to witness the “sports” settled down to thoroughly enjoy itself. And certainly there was a very commendable celerity manifested by those who had the direction of affairs; there was no disposition to keep the holiday-makers waiting; the unhappy victims were led up, one after the other, before King Banda, and their supposed crimes very briefly recited to him, whereupon his Majesty, with equal brevity, pronounced their sentence—in all cases that of death—which was at once carried out, the only difference consisting in the mode of execution; some of the unfortunate wretches being secured to the crucifixion tree in one way, some in another; but it was very difficult for a mere onlooker to decide which of the plans adopted inflicted the most suffering. These victims, it should be explained, were doomed to remain fastened to the tree until death should ensue from hunger, thirst, exposure, and the agony of their wounds.
Then, in batches of ten at a time, forty more victims were triced up to the boughs of this accursed tree by raw-hide ropes fastened to one wrist or one ankle, in such positions that their bodies showed clearly against the bright background of sky; and, while thus suspended, whosoever would was at liberty to shoot at them with bows and arrows, the great object being, apparently, to pierce the body with as many arrows as possible without inflicting a mortal injury. King Banda evidently prided himself upon his skill in this direction. But there were a few bunglers among the crowd, for some of the shots went so far astray that instead of hitting the mark at which they were supposed to be aimed, they hit and slew some half-a-dozen of the crucified ones. I wondered whether by any chance the fatal wounds were actually inflicted by interested persons who desired to put as speedy an end as possible to the sufferings of their unfortunate friends; and if so, whether the idea would occur to Ama to enlist the services of a few good marksmen in my behalf when my turn should come.
When all those who had been condemned to die in the above manner had perished, a further variety was imparted to the proceedings by compelling some fifty victims to “run the gauntlet.” This is a very favourite form of pastime among savages, and is carried out in a variety of ways. In the present instance a narrow circular course was arranged round the great square, a lane of about a yard in width being formed through the mass of spectators, and into this lane the victims, stripped naked, were introduced, one at a time, to run round and round until beaten to death by the bare fists of as many as could get in a blow at them. And, since the lane was so exceedingly narrow, it happened that practically every individual on either side of the lane was able to get in at least one blow. To the uninitiated this may seem a not particularly inhumane form of inflicting the death punishment; but I, who saw the whole remaining part of the day spent in doing some fifty poor wretches to death in that fashion, can tell a very different story; there is no need to enter into details, but I may say that those who were weakest, and who succumbed most quickly, were to be most envied.
The day had opened with a cloudless sky and brilliant sunshine; but, as the hours dragged themselves slowly away, clouds, light and filmy at first but gradually growing more dense and threatening, began to gather, until toward evening the sun became blotted out and the whole vault of heaven grew overcast and louring, as though nature, horrified and disgusted at the orgy of human cruelty being enacted here on this little spot of earth, were veiling her face to shut out the shameful sight. By the time that the proceedings of the day were over and the enormous crowd began to disperse, it became evident that a more than usually violent tropical thunderstorm was brewing, although it might be some hours yet before it would burst over the blood-stained town. Naturally, I was very thankful that the awful day had passed over, and that its end found me still in the land of the living; for “while there is life there is hope,” and in the course of my somewhat adventurous career I have seen so many extraordinary escapes from apparently inevitable disaster that the one piece of advice above all others which I would give to everybody is “Never despair!” I can recall more than one occasion when, if I had abandoned hope and the effort which goes with it, I should not now have been alive to pen these words. No man can ever know what totally unexpected happening may occur to effect his deliverance at the very moment when fate looks blackest and most threatening. But although I had passed through the day unscathed, so far as actual bodily injury was concerned, it had nevertheless been a day of suffering for me, growing ever more acute as the hours dragged wearily away, for, apart from the feelings of horror with which I had witnessed the display of so much unimaginable cruelty and torture, the bonds which confined me to my post had been drawn so tightly as greatly to impede the circulation of blood through my extremities, until by the time that the great square was empty of its crowd of bloodthirsty revellers, the anguish had become so great that I was almost in a fainting condition and could give but scant attention to anything beyond the pangs that racked every nerve of my tortured body; in fact I observed, with feelings of envy, that many of my fellow-sufferers had already succumbed and become unconscious, if indeed they were not dead. However, since we had been spared thus far, I concluded that we might reasonably hope to be reprieved at least until the next day, and I looked with impatience to be released and conveyed back to my place of confinement until dawn should again summon me forth to witness and, peradventure, be the victim of accumulative horrors.
But I soon discovered that even this small measure of mercy was to be denied me; food and drink were indeed to be served out to us—in order, as I surmised, that we might meet the ordeal in store for us with unabated strength—but the night was to be passed, as the day had been, secured to the sacrificial post, exposed, naked and helpless, to the elements and to the myriad insect plagues that attacked us unceasingly. I noted that while those who had not succumbed to their sufferings were fed as they stood still bound to their posts, those who had become unconscious were temporarily released, and revived by being copiously soused with water, and, further, were allowed to eat and drink while seated on the ground, before they were lashed up afresh; and I took the hint, feigning insensibility for the sake of the few minutes of temporary relief that I hoped thus to win.
By the time that the attendants reached me I was so near to swooning that very little pretence was necessary, and when at length they released me I sank to the ground in a heap with a low groan. I gathered from their remarks that they were seriously concerned at my condition, for it seemed that I was reserved for some very especial refinement of torture, the satisfactory application of which demanded that I must come to it in the possession of my full strength, which they feared had been seriously sapped by the suffering which I had already endured, and they freely expressed their concern lest, under existing circumstances, I should not furnish quite so much sport as was being expected of me. They therefore displayed real solicitude in their efforts to revive me, which I took especial care they should not accomplish too quickly. But, oh, what exquisite torment was mine when, my bonds being released, the blood once more began to circulate through my benumbed members! I could have screamed aloud with the excruciating agony, had not my pride prevented me; and it was a full hour before I had sufficiently recovered the use of my hands to enable me to convey food and drink to my lips. The food and drink provided for me were of an especially nourishing character, and when at length I had partaken of as much as I could force down my throat I was again lashed to my stake, but this time so carefully that, while for me to loose my bonds was an impossibility, the circulation of blood was in nowise impeded; and for even this small mercy I was inexpressibly grateful.
Meanwhile the night had fallen so intensely dark that the completion of the task of feeding us unfortunates had to be accomplished by torchlight; and we had not been very long left to ourselves before the faint flickering of distant lightning and the low muttering and grumbling of thunder warned us to expect a storm of more than ordinary violence. Everything portended it; the atmosphere was absolutely still, not a twig or even a leaf stirred, all nature seemed to be waiting in breathless suspense for the coming outbreak; even the insects had ceased to attack us, and had retired to their leafy retreat, and the air was so heavy and close that, naked as I was, I perspired at every pore. Not a sound broke the unnatural stillness save when, at irregular intervals, a low groan broke from some poor wretch upon the crucifixion tree in whom the life still lingered. But even to them relief was promised, for with the impending downpour of rain their wounds would quickly mortify, and then their sufferings would soon be at an end.
Very slowly and gradually the storm worked its way toward the zenith, gathering intensity as it rose, and at length—probably about ten o’clock—the first drops of rain, hot and heavy, like gouts of blood, began to fall, quickly increasing to a drenching downpour, accompanied by lightning, green, rose-tinted, violet, sun-bright, that lighted up the town until every object, however minute, was as clearly visible as in broad daylight, while the ceaseless crashing of the thunder was unspeakably appalling.
In the very height of the storm, when thunder, lightning, and rain together were raging in a perfect pandemonium, a stream of steel-blue lightning darted straight from the zenith, struck the crucifixion tree, and shattered it into a thousand fragments, leaving a great hole in the ground where it had stood! The storm continued to rage in full fury for about an hour, and then the flashes of lightning, with their accompanying peals of thunder, gradually became less frequent, although the rain continued to beat down upon the parched earth in a perfect deluge which formed rivulets, ay, and even brooks of quite respectable size, flowing in every direction.
My weary and aching frame soothed and refreshed by the pelting rain, I must have fallen into a kind of doze, for I was suddenly startled into full consciousness by the feeling that some one was meddling with my bonds, which, the next moment, severed by a sharp knife, fell from my limbs. Then a small soft hand seized mine and dragged me swiftly away from the stake to which I had been bound. It was so intensely dark just then, however, that I was quite unable to see where I was going, and was obliged to trust implicitly to my unknown guide. For two or three minutes we twisted hither and thither, blindly, so far as I was concerned, and then another flash came which enabled me to see that my companion was, as I had already suspected, my faithful little friend Ama, and that she was conducting me, by a somewhat circuitous route, toward the gate in the palisade.
“A thousand thanks to you, Ama, for coming to my help,” I murmured in her ear as I squeezed her hand. “But whither are you taking me? To the gate? We can never pass it! The guards—”
“They are not there; they are sheltering in the houses close at hand, I expect; I took care to find out before coming to release you. And now, Dick, we must be silent,” answered Ama, as we cautiously approached the spot where I knew the gate must be.
Suddenly my guide halted, and pressed herself and me close up against the wall of a building of some kind, at the same time feeling for my face in the darkness, and laying her finger on my lips to enjoin perfect silence. Here we waited for nearly five minutes until another flash of lightning came, when my companion, having caught a glimpse of her surroundings, again hurried me forward, and a few seconds later we had passed through the unguarded gate, closed it behind us, and were rapidly making our way through the streets of the outer part of the town, in the direction of the beach. About half-way down, however, we turned sharply aside and plunged down a narrow lane, which, after some twisting and turning, at length brought us out clear of the town into a plantain grove. And all this time we had not seen a single living creature, no, not so much as a dog; every living thing, save ourselves, had taken shelter from the fury of the elements, and was not likely to venture abroad again until it was over.
Still hurrying me forward, Ama led the way through the grove and along its edge, until we eventually reached a narrow bush path, through which it was necessary to wend our way circumspectly, for it was now as black as a wolf’s mouth, save when an occasional flicker of lightning from the now fast-receding storm momentarily lit up our surroundings. We traversed this path for about half a mile, still maintaining perfect silence, and at length emerged, quite suddenly, upon a tiny strip of beach, beyond which hissed and gurgled the stream, already swollen by the rain. A flash of lightning, that came most opportunely at this moment, revealed a small light canoe hauled up on the beach, with a couple of paddles, a sheaf of spears, bows and arrows, and a few other oddments in it.
“Get in quickly, Dick, and let us be going,” murmured Ama hastily. “The storm is passing away, and it cannot now be long before some one will visit the prisoners to see how they have fared; indeed, that may have happened already. And, whenever it occurs, your absence will certainly be discovered, and a search for you will be at once begun. It will take a little while for them to ascertain that you are nowhere concealed in the town, but when that has been determined they will at once think of the river, and a party will be despatched in pursuit; therefore it is imperative that we should secure as long a start as possible.”
“Of course,” answered I, as I laid hold of the light craft and ran her afloat; “I quite understand that. But, Ama, you speak of ‘we,’ as though you intended to accompany me. That must not be, my dear girl; you have already done nobly in freeing me, and in providing me with the means of flight, and I must now do the best I can for myself; I cannot consent to implicate you by permitting you to accompany me. Therefore let me now bid you adieu, with my warmest and most grateful thanks, not only for what you have done for me to-night, but also for the friendship which you have shown me from the moment when I first came to know you. Now, hasten back to your own quarters as quickly as possible, I pray you; I think you can be trusted to find your way back to them without permitting your share in this night’s doings to be discovered. Farewell, dear Ama, and may God bless and keep you! I shall never forget you, or your goodness to me. Good-bye!”
And, in the fulness of my gratitude, I took her in my arms and kissed her.
For a moment the gentle girl resigned herself to my embrace; then, freeing herself, she said, “Thank you, Dick, for thinking of my safety at such a moment, dear, but I cannot return; I must go with you, not only for your own sake but for mine also. You do not understand the ways of my people, as I do, and therefore without my help you could never make good your escape. As for me, my father knows that there is only one person—myself—who would dare to do what I have done for you to-night; and even were I to succeed in returning to my own quarters undetected—which is exceedingly doubtful—his anger at your loss will be so great that he would assuredly condemn me to take your place at the stake. Therefore, Dick,” she concluded pleadingly, “I must either go with you, or undergo the tortures that were destined for you.”
“But surely,”—I protested, and was about to argue that, she being her father’s favourite daughter, he would never be so inhuman as to sacrifice her to his anger, when a sound of distant shouting came faintly to our ears.
“Hark!” exclaimed Ama, “do you hear that, Dick? It means that your absence has been discovered, and that the hunt for you has already begun. We must not waste another moment. Will you take me with you; or must I go back to face a cruel and lingering death?”
“Not the last, certainly,” answered I. “Jump in, little one, and let us be off without further parley.”
Giving her my hand to steady her in entering the crank little craft, I waited until she had seated herself aft and taken the steering paddle in her hand, then, with a powerful push that sent the canoe, stern-first, far out into the rapidly flowing stream, I sprang in over the bows, seized a paddle, and proceeded to force the craft off-shore into the strength of the current.