His story was received by the king and his suite with ejaculations of wonder and incredulity, interspersed with many sharp commands from the monarch to repeat or to explain more fully certain passages; and when the message was delivered a profound silence reigned for fully an hour. King M’Bongwele was a despot, accustomed to issue his commands in the most heedless manner and to have them executed at all costs; but to receive a command was an entirely novel and decidedly disagreeable experience, and he was thoroughly puzzled how to act. His first feeling was one of speechless indignation at the insolence of these audacious strangers; his second, a wholesome fear of the consequences of disobedience. For if these mysterious visitants had the power of soaring into the air by a mere wave of the hand, what might it not be possible for them to do in the event of their being seriously provoked. Besides, he had already received a practical assurance of his impotency so far as they were concerned; moreover, he was consumed by curiosity to see for himself the marvels so graphically described by his lieutenant, to receive a moiety of those magnificent gifts which the strangers seemed prepared to lavish broadcast upon all with whom they chanced to come into contact, and, above all, to satisfy himself with respect to certain conjectures which had flitted through his brain whilst listening to the astonishing narrative of Lualamba. M’Bongwele was an ignorant savage, it is true, but he was possessed of a dauntless courage, a persistency of purpose, and an unscrupulous craftiness and ambitiousness of character which would have won him distinction of a certain unenviable kind in any community. Already his brain was teeming with vague unformed plots of the wildest and most audaciously extravagant description, the possibility of which he was determined to ascertain for himself, and the maturing of which he was quite prepared to leave to time. He therefore ultimately resolved to obey the summons sent him by the strangers; but, remembering his kingly dignity, he postponed obedience as long as he dared, and it was not until four o’clock in the afternoon that he set out for the ruins, attired in all his native finery, consisting of a lion-skin mantle and magnificent gold coronet adorned with flamingo’s feathers—the emblems of his regal power—gold bangles on his arms and ankles, a necklace of lion’s teeth and claws round his neck, and a short petticoat of leopard’s skin about his loins. He was armed with a sheaf of light javelins or assegais, he carried in his left hand a long narrow shield of rhinoceros hide decorated with ostrich plumes, and he was mounted on a superb black horse (which he rode bare-backed and managed with the skill of a finished equestrian). His followers, numbering about five hundred, were also fully armed and excellently mounted, they being, indeed, with the exception of a few court officials, his regiment of household cavalry, the pick of his native warriors and the very flower of his army. He was anxious to make the profoundest possible impression of his power and greatness upon the mysterious beings he was about to visit; and, indeed, the cavalcade, as it swept at a hand-gallop out through the wide gateway which formed the principal opening in the stockade, constituted, with its tossing plumes, its fluttering mantles, its glancing weapons, and its prancing horses, a sight to make a soldier’s heart bound with appreciative delight.
Chapter Eighteen.
King M’Bongwele is temporarily reduced to Submission.
In the return of the Flying Fish to her former berth the subject of the reception to be accorded to king M’Bongwele, in the event of his obeying their summons, was somewhat anxiously discussed by the travellers. They had already seen and heard enough to convince them that the individual in question was a sovereign of considerable power, as African kings go, and former experience among savages had taught them that he would, as likely as not, prove to be a crafty, unscrupulous, and slippery customer to deal with. To satisfactorily carry out the object of their visit to this man’s country—namely, the examination and exploration of the mysterious and very interesting ruins which surrounded them—it would be absolutely necessary that they should be able to pass to and fro, freely and unmolested, between the ship and the various points selected for examination; and, in order to secure this perfect freedom, it would be necessary not only to conciliate this powerful ruler and his people, but also to so thoroughly impress him and them with the mysterious and wonderful attributes of their unbidden guests that they should, one and all, be absolutely afraid to interfere with them. The question was, how could this be most effectually achieved? The first part of the programme, namely the conciliation of sovereign and subjects, appeared simple enough; the obvious pride and delight with which Lualamba had received his flashy presents of beads and Manchester finery furnished a key to the satisfactory solution of this difficulty; but how was the second and equally important part of the programme to be carried out? Lualamba, it was true, had been effectually cowed by the simple expedient of carrying him a few thousand feet up into the air; but something more than the mere repetition of this experiment would be necessary to produce the required impression upon M’Bongwele and the crowd of warriors he would be certain to bring with him. The matter was placed in the hands of the professor for settlement, and he promptly avowed himself to be fully equal to the task.
“Science, my friends,” he remarked, “is constantly revealing wonders which surprise and astound even the most cultured minds of the civilised world; how much more capable is it then of overawing the uncultured savage, however shrewd and clever he may be in those simple matters which affect his everyday life! Leave it to me; we have ample scientific means at our command to quell this man and his followers, and to reduce them to a state of the most abject and servile subjection.”
Von Schalckenberg then retired to make his preparations, which were soon complete. When next he appeared he carried upon one arm a glittering mass of what at first sight appeared to be drapery, but which, on his unfolding it, proved to be three suits of chain armour (minus helmet and gauntlets), constructed of very small fine links of aethereum, light and flexible as silk.
“I think,” said he, “it will be unadvisable to make any change in our outward appearance in preparing to receive this royal savage; any such change would be certainly noticed, and as certainly regarded as an indication of the importance we attach to his visit. Now, our policy is to treat the whole affair as a matter of no moment whatever, and we will therefore (if you agree with my views) continue to wear the white flannel suits in which we received Lualamba this morning. But I would recommend that each of you don a suit of this mail under your clothing (I have already assumed mine), and we shall then be pretty well prepared for emergencies. These savages are often exceedingly treacherous fellows, and it is quite among the possibilities that certain of this king’s followers may have received instructions to test our supposed invulnerability by a sly stab in the back or something of that kind; it will be well, therefore, that we should be properly prepared for anything of the kind. I had in view some such occasion as the present when I arranged for the construction of these suits. There is a helmet and gauntlets for each; but we shall scarcely need them today, I think, and it would hardly be politic to wear any visible defensive armour.”
The luncheon hour arrived and passed without sign or token of the presence of a single savage in the neighbourhood, and as the afternoon waned with still no indication of human vicinity, the travellers—but for the absolute impregnability of the Flying Fish—would have begun to feel uneasy. About half-past four o’clock, however, as the quartette were languidly puffing at their cigars, lolling meanwhile in the most luxurious of deck-chairs, a huge cloud of yellow dust rising into the air beyond the ruins announced the approach of the cavalcade, and a minute or two later king M’Bongwele at the head of his cavalry swept like a whirlwind into the open space occupied by the great ship, and, charging in a solid square close up to her, suddenly wheeled right and left into line, and came to an abrupt halt. The evolution was very brilliantly executed, and as Lethbridge lazily scanned the performers through the thin filmy smoke of his cigar, he could not restrain a low murmur of admiration, followed by the remark: