Suddenly Sir HENRY spoke—"SMALLUN, my old friend," he said, "do you see anything in the distance?"
I looked intently in the direction indicated, but could see nothing but the horizon. "Look again," said Sir HENRY. I swept the distance with my glance. It was a sandy, arid distance, and, naturally enough, a small cloud of dust appeared. Then a strange thing happened. The cloud grew and grew. It came rolling towards us with an unearthly noise. Then it seemed to be cleft in two, as by lightning, and from its centre came marching towards us a mighty army of Amazonian warriors, in battle-array, chanting the war-song of the Mariannakookas. I must confess that my first instinct was to fly, my second to run, my third, and best, to remain rooted to the spot. When the army came within ten yards of us, it stopped, as if by magic, and a stout Amazon, of forbidding aspect, who seemed to be the Commander-in-Chief, advanced to the front. On her head she wore an immense native jelibag, tricked out with feathers; her breast was encased in a huge silver tureene. Her waist was encircled with a broad girdle, in which were stuck all manner of deadly arms, stuhpans, sorspans, spîhts, and deeshecloutz. In her left hand she carried a deadly-looking kaster, while in her right she brandished a massive rolinpin, a frightful weapon, which produces internal wounds of the most awful kind. Her regiments were similarly armed, save that, in their case, the breast-covering was made of inferior metal, and they wore no feathers in their head-dress. The Commander held up her hand. Instantly the war-song ceased. Then the Commander addressed us, and her voice sounded like the song of them that address the butchaboys in the morning. And this was the torque she hurled at us,—
CHAPTER IV.
"Oh, wanderers from a far country, I am She-who-will-never-Obey, the Queen of the Mariannakookas. I rule above, and in nether regions, where there is Eternal Fire. Behold my Word goes forth, and the Ovens are made hot, and the Kee-chen-boi-lars are filled with Water. Over me no Mistress holds sway. All whom I meet I keep in subjection, save only the Weeklibuks; them I keep not down, for they delight me. And the land over which I reign is made glad with fat and much stored up Dripn. Who are ye, and what seek ye here? Speak ere it be too late!" And as she ceased the whole army broke forth into a chorus, "She-who-will-never-Obey has spoken! The Word is gone forth! Speak, speak!" I confess I was alarmed, and my fears were not diminished when two of the Skulrimehds (a sort of native camp-follower) came up to COODENT and me, and actually began to make love to us in the most forward manner. But Sir HENRY maintained his calm demeanour. "She-who-will-never-Obey," he said, "we are peaceful traders. We bring no Commission—" how his sentence would have ended will never be known. Certain it is that what he said roused the Amazons to a frenzy of passion. They yelled and danced round us. "He who brings no Commission must die!" they shouted; and in a moment we found ourselves bound tightly hand-and-foot, and marching as prisoners of war in the centre of the Mariannakookaland army.
CHAPTER V.
It is unnecessary to go through the details of our marvellous escape from the lowest dungeon of the royal Palace of SURVAN TSAUL, where for months we were immured on a constant diet of suet pudding. Of course we did escape, but only after killing ten thousand Mariannakookas, and then swimming for a mile in their blood. COODENT brought with him a very pretty Skulrimehd who had grown attached to him, but she drooped and pined away after he lost his false teeth in crossing a river, and tried to replace them with orange-peel, a trick he had learnt at school. Sir HENRY's fight with She-who-will-never-Obey is still remembered. He will carry the marks of her nails on his cheeks to his grave. I myself am tired of wandering. "Home, Sweet Home," as the Bab Ballads have it, is the place for me.
THE END.