Chapter Sixteen.
Among the Ruins of Ancient Ophir.
The next few days were devoted by the men of the party to the arduous and somewhat unpleasant task of completing the preparation for packing the skins which they had taken; and then, after a rather late breakfast on a certain morning, the Flying Fish again rose into the air, and, winging her way leisurely a hundred feet or so above the tops of the forest trees, headed to the southward and eastward. The morning of the second day saw them clear of the forest and sweeping over a fine open country, sparsely dotted here and there with detached clumps of bush, and over which roamed immense herds of buck and antelope, troops of zebra, giraffe, and other animals, a few elephants, and ostriches innumerable. But they saw nothing tempting enough to delay them; and so they went drifting quietly along day after day—coming to earth only at night, in order that they might miss nothing of the multitudinous interesting sights that the country had to offer them—until at length, one day, at noon, Mildmay announced that, according to his reckoning, they were exactly fifty miles from the site of ancient Ophir.
And, indeed, there was no reason to doubt this statement. On the contrary, the voyagers had, some hours earlier, imagined that they recognised certain spots which had been rather more distinctly impressed than others upon their memories during their former visit. For example, as the Flying Fish went driving gently along over the somewhat rugged, well-wooded country, with its numerous streams winding hither and thither, like silver threads, they sighted a native village some distance ahead of them; and Sir Reginald remarked to Lethbridge, who was standing beside him, examining the scene at large through his binoculars—
“Surely, Lethbridge, that is the identical village from which we first noticed the curious system of voice-telegraphy in vogue among the people hereabout, and by means of which they sent forward the news of our arrival, on the occasion of our last visit.”
“Looks not at all unlike it,” answered Lethbridge, with his binoculars still at his eyes. “Anyway, we shall soon see,” he added; “for somebody has spotted us already, and there comes the entire population of the place, turning out to look at us. And—yes—there goes a mounted man, as hard as his nag can lay legs to the ground, doubtless to shout his message. I will watch him.”
The ex-colonel relapsed into silence for a few minutes; then he resumed—
“Yes, Elphinstone, you are quite right; that mounted fellow has just pulled up, and raised his hands to his mouth. Now, listen, Lady Olivia. Do you hear anything?”
Yes, Lady Olivia heard, with singular distinctness, the sound of a high-pitched voice shouting certain words, which, of course, she could not understand, but every syllable of which was so slowly and clearly articulated that she could easily have written them down.
“And there is the man who is uttering them,” remarked Lethbridge—“that little dot on the hill some two miles away. I doubt if you can make him out with the naked eye. It is as much as I can manage, although I know exactly where to look for him. Can you see him, Ida? Or you, Mlle. Sziszkinski? Oh!”—as he turned round and made the discovery that Mildmay had emerged from the pilot-house, and had by some occult process drawn mademoiselle away from the rest of the party and to his side.
Lady Olivia smiled.
“Has it ever occurred to you, Colonel,” she said, “that a very pretty little romance is gradually unfolding itself here in our small circle?”
“Well,” replied Lethbridge, with a smile that lighted up his somewhat saturnine features in a marvellous manner, “I must confess that there have been moments when I have had my suspicions. And I shall be by no means sorry if those suspicions turn out to be well founded; for she is an exceptionally charming girl, and as good as she is charming, I feel sure; while, as for Mildmay—well, he is one of the very few men whom I thoroughly admire and esteem.”
“Yes,” assented Lady Olivia. “And they would make a handsome pair, wouldn’t they?”
“That,” he answered, with a laugh, “is so obvious that it needs no confirmation from me. And—”
What further he might have said upon so interesting a subject Lady Olivia was not destined to know; for at that moment an interruption came from Sir Reginald, who exclaimed—
“Look yonder, Lethbridge! Do you see that? There is the village from which that troop of native cavalry turned out to dispute our passage when last we came this way; and I’ll be shot if the fellows have not turned out again. Do you see them, drawn up there on that ridge?”
Lethbridge turned his binoculars in the direction indicated by his friend, and presently saw a body of mounted warriors, armed with bow, spear, and shield, drawn up in two divisions, one on either side of the track over which the Flying Fish was heading to pass; and their formation was such as to suggest that they actually again intended to oppose the passage of the ship.
“Yes, you are right; I see them,” answered Lethbridge. “I think, Lady Olivia, it would be advisable for you to retire from the deck until we have passed those fellows. It is just possible that a stray arrow might reach the deck here, with unfortunate consequences to one of you ladies. And you can observe everything almost as well from below. Permit me. Come along, little sweetheart,”—to Ida—“let us go below, and watch what happens from the cabin windows. Mildmay, do you see our old friends, the black troop of horsemen, yonder? I am taking Lady Olivia and Ida below, out of harm’s way.”
And, so saying, he conducted his charges down into the dining-saloon, and placed them at one of the ports—the thick glass window of which he closed—while Mildmay followed with Mlle. Sziszkinski. But, as it turned out, the precaution was needless, for presently, as the ship swept past, above and between the two bodies of native horsemen, the latter, instead of greeting the strange visitant with a shower of arrows, as before, straightened themselves on their horses, and, at a signal from their leader, raised their right arms above their heads in salute, and shouted in deep-chested unison the single word—
“Bietu!”
Then, at another signal, they wheeled right and left, as one man, and, at a break-neck gallop, dashed along on either side of the ship, forming a kind of escort, or guard of honour, as long as they could keep pace with her.
The sun was within an hour of setting when the hilly country over which the Flying Fish was sweeping gave place to a wide-stretching level plain, grass-grown, with here and there an occasional isolated clump of bush, a small grove of graceful palms, an irregular patch of tall, feathery bamboos, an acre or so of wild plantains, and, further on, occasional fields of maize or sugarcane. A faint blue level streak on the far eastern horizon indicated their close proximity to the sea, while certain shapeless irregularities that began to show up against that narrow streak of blue insensibly resolved themselves, as the ship sped onward, into a vast assemblage of enormous columns, isolated and in groups, some still upreared and perpendicular, others prostrate and broken, the remains of great temples and other buildings, that, judging from the elaborate and splendid carved work of the ruined entablatures, fallen capitals, crumbling arches, massive cornices, and mutilated statues, must, long ages ago, have formed part of a city of extraordinary extent and magnificence. The Flying Fish came to earth on, as von Schalckenberg asserted, the identical spot upon which she had rested on the occasion of their former visit, in the very midst of the vast ruined city, and the little company of travellers on board her spent a never-to-be-forgotten hour on her deck watching, in an ecstasy of delight, the constantly changing and magical effects of light, shade, and colour as the sun went down in a blaze of glory, lighting up with his departing beams the stupendously imposing and marvellous remains of ancient Ophir.
As the party sat round the dinner-table that evening, Sir Reginald entertained that portion of them who had not then been present with a recital of what had occurred on the occasion of the ship’s previous visit to this interesting spot.
“We arrived here,” said he, “about the hour of sunset, and, after dinner, spent a very enjoyable evening in the music-room, retiring to our cabins about midnight, neither suspecting nor fearing evil of any sort. But when we rose next morning, and went out on deck for a turn before breakfast, Lethbridge very quickly discovered that the ship was beset by some hundreds of savages, who were lurking in the long grass and crouching behind the numerous small clumps of bush and flowering shrubs that surrounded us, and which you may possibly have noticed while we were watching the sunset effects upon the ruins this evening.
“Naturally we regarded this fact of our beleaguerment with perfect equanimity, for we felt that, so long as we remained in the ship, we were absolutely safe, except, perhaps, from a stray arrow or two, to which danger, however, we attached very little importance. But having come here with the specific object of examining the ruins, it was, of course, necessary that we should establish some sort of understanding with the natives and get on friendly terms with them; so, after we had finished breakfast, finding that the savages were still ambushed about us, the professor arranged with Mildmay a little programme devised for the purpose of duly impressing them with our tremendous powers and wonderful attributes.
“Then, when everything was ready, von Schalckenberg advanced to the gangway and, in his most imposing accents, demanded to know who was the chief in command of the warriors who had assembled to pay homage to the four Spirits of the Winds—meaning, of course, himself, Mildmay, Lethbridge, and me. The professor, as I suppose you all know, is practically a universal linguist, and by a stroke of good luck he happened to hit, at the first shot, upon a dialect which the fellows were able to understand. So you can picture to yourselves their amazement at being asked such a question, and finding themselves actually confronted with such mysterious and terrible beings as spirits. They sprang to their feet, as one man, recognising the futility of any further attempt at concealment; and a chief named Lualamba came forward and modestly acknowledged himself to be the leader of the band. Forthwith he was invited to come up on deck and talk to us, a rope ladder being lowered to the ground for his accommodation. He came, in manifest fear and trembling, which feeling we quickly converted into one of delight by investing him with a necklace of glass beads, and a mantle consisting of a piece of flowered chintz.
“We then proceeded to question the fellow; and presently learned from him that he was the emissary of a certain M’Bongwele—in whose territory we now were—a king of fierce, cruel, and jealous disposition, as we gathered, and so suspicious of strangers that he had issued a standing order against the admission into his country of any such, under certain gruesome pains and penalties. And it was by his orders that Lualamba and his warriors had come out on the previous night for the purpose of slaying the mysterious monster that had been seen flying so fearlessly and impudently over his sacred territory.
“There is no doubt that Lualamba was, for a savage, an exceedingly shrewd fellow; and it was not very long ere we detected in him an evident desire to lure the four Spirits of the Winds into the presence—and perchance the power—of his master, M’Bongwele, who, he informed us, would be highly gratified by a visit from such celestial beings, whatever might be his sentiments with regard to mere men. We were not so easily to be had, however. In accents of grave reproof the professor pointed out to Lualamba that it was inconsistent with our dignity to pay a visit even to so great a potentate as M’Bongwele; that, on the contrary, it was M’Bongwele’s duty to show his appreciation of our condescension in entering his country by paying us a visit within the next few hours, for the purpose of rendering homage to us. And, finally, that Lualamba might be properly impressed with our powers, we took him for a short excursion into the air, and then sent him back, a humbled, frightened, and profoundly impressed savage, to make his report to his master and urge upon him the very great desirability of paying a duty-call upon us forthwith.
“Having at length got rid of Lualamba, the professor made a few simple little preparations for the subjugation of the great M’Bongwele. The hours, however, passed, and we began to fear that Lualamba had failed in the somewhat delicate and difficult mission wherewith we had entrusted him. But at length, somewhere about four o’clock in the afternoon, we saw a cavalcade of some five hundred fully-armed and magnificently mounted warriors approaching, headed by an individual riding a very fine coal-black horse, and clad in lion-skin mantle, short petticoat of leopards’ skin, gold crown trimmed with flamingo feathers, necklace of lions’ teeth and claws, with a long, narrow shield of rhinoceros’ hide on his left arm and a sheaf of light casting-spears in his hand. This imposing person we rightly judged to be none other than M’Bongwele himself; and in a few minutes the whole cavalcade, charging down upon us, divided into two and, wheeling right and left, reined up and stood motionless as so many bronze statues, within a few yards of the ship. Then M’Bongwele—a fine but very stout man—rather laboriously dismounted and, after some hesitation, came on board.
“Now, it is very necessary for you to remember, while listening to what I am about to tell you, that the man with whom we were dealing was a crafty, unscrupulous savage, and that we had entered his territory with a certain definite purpose, in pursuit of which it was imperative that we should be able to go to and fro freely, without fear of interference, either direct or indirect, from him. And, as we were only four men, while his subjects numbered several thousands, all owing him the most absolute obedience, and all perfectly ready and willing to ‘wipe us out’ at a word from him, our only chance of accomplishing what we wanted to do lay in our ability to impress this man and his followers with the profound conviction that we were something more than mere mortals, and that any attempt on his part to interfere with us would inevitably be followed by consequences of the direst description to his people at large, and himself personally.
“In pursuance of this scheme, von Schalckenberg had, as I have said, made certain arrangements which, after a little desultory talk with M’Bongwele, he proceeded to carry out. The first impression which he desired to produce upon the king was that of our invulnerability to injury; and with this object he produced a little red rosette, which he offered to attach to any portion of his own person, and then allow M’Bongwele to shoot an arrow at it, as at a target. But here the dark monarch’s crafty disposition manifested itself, for, evidently suspecting that the whole thing had been prearranged, he insisted on fastening the rosette to Lethbridge’s breast instead of that of the professor. There was nothing for it, of course, but to assent, or be for ever discredited in the eyes of the king and his followers, and Lethbridge very good-naturedly submitted, the more readily, perhaps, since von Schalckenberg had insisted, as a measure of precaution, upon our each donning a suit of aethereum chain mail under our clothes. You will guess the result. M’Bongwele shot his arrow, the shaft pierced the rosette, and then fell, splintered, to the deck, to the confusion of the king and the awe-struck surprise of his immediate following, who were grouped round him.
“Then, aided by a little skilful management on Mildmay’s part, his entire escort were induced to attempt to lift the Flying Fish off the ground; and when they had failed, one only of their number was bidden to do the same thing, and, to their unmitigated amazement, this one man not only accomplished the task with ease, but he also tossed us so high in the air that we all—M’Bongwele and his chiefs included—went right out to sea, until the land was completely lost sight of. This seemed almost to complete his Majesty’s subjugation, for he no sooner found himself out of sight of land than he grovelled abjectly at von Schalckenberg’s feet and promised anything and everything that we asked of him, if we would but take him back home again.
“The professor, however, had still another card up his sleeve, and when at length we returned to the spot from which we had started—by which time it was nearly dark—he played it. He ordered a number of M’Bongwele’s warriors to build a large fire, not very far from the ship, and when this was well alight, and throwing out a dense cloud of smoke, our friend von Schalckenberg used the smoke as a magic-lantern screen, upon which he projected two pictures, the first showing M’Bongwele himself and his warriors at the moment when they halted opposite the ship upon their arrival from his village earlier on in the afternoon—photographed by Mildmay and developed and printed during our trip out to sea—and the second, a coloured slide, showing a review of a number of our own British troops. This, as you may imagine, reduced the king—only temporarily, as it proved—to a condition of servile submission, and he went home that night a humble and terrified man.
“But, later, he got even with us, for a time, at least; for while pretending to assist us in our exploration of the ruins, by lending us a number of women to do such digging as we required, he got an old hag to drug our coffee, one day; and, while we were all lying insensible, had us carried up to his village. Matters looked rather bad for us for a few days, but we eventually contrived to escape—how, I must tell you some other time; and we then deposed and banished him, putting another man, named Seketulo, in his place. If events have gone well with this fellow, I have no doubt we shall have a visit from him to-morrow morning.”