How long I lay there I do not know; it was long enough, at any rate, for a sharp attack of fever to seize me and run its course. It racked my bones; I tossed and turned on the slimy floor, groaning aloud in my discomfort. The hot fever-blood throbbed in my head; my eyes and face burned, and my body became parched and dry. I moaned for water—oh, for one drop of cool water! At one time I thought I saw the door open and Mama enter and loose my bonds, but it was only a vision of my disordered brain. Finally I sank into unconsciousness. I awoke—drenched in a profuse perspiration—with men’s voices sounding round about me. A figure was standing over me holding a lamp—an earthenware, ewer-shaped vessel with a cotton dip—which gave a wavering yellow radiance and cast grim dancing shadows on the walls. I could see that the door was ajar, and a pale light was stealing into the horrible place from outside. Roughly I was dragged to my feet. I staggered a bit, but soon steadied myself, and—pushed, cursed, and beaten—I accompanied my captors up the steps and out into the light of day again, or, rather, of evening. One glorious breath of the upper air repaid me for all that I had suffered in that black hole of Kontogora. I did not care now if they were leading me out to kill me; I was not going to die like a rat in that horrible pit.
As we emerged from the compound we were joined by a chattering, mocking, hostile crowd of men, women, and children. Every now and then one of the latter would strike me with a stick, my guards making no effort to protect me. At last we entered the Emir’s compound and I was taken into his presence. He was seated on a dais covered with mats and a leopard skin, and was talking in a low monotone to some men lying round about him on the floor of the chamber.
The young blood that I had flung over the wall, and who was the cause of all my troubles, stepped out and told the King what I had done, asking leave to kill me then and there. Next, to my astonishment, Mama stepped out of the crowd and told the Emir plainly that he and I had come all the way from Illorin to serve him, and had intended craving his permission that morning had not my tormentor interfered and sought a quarrel with me, in which he had got thrown over the wall for his pains. Subsequently, through treachery, continued my faithful guide, my enemy had had me taken and flung into prison without the Emir’s knowledge.
The Emir, who seemed a decent sort of old man, listened patiently to his two petitioners. Then, advising my enemy to calm himself, he told one of his retainers to question me. I thanked Heaven that the simpleness of my disguise and my grip of the Haussa tongue precluded any very great possibility of detection. The Emir, before my questioner started, informed the assembled crowd that, were I proved to be a rebel and a traitor, he would hand me over to my enemy to do what he wished with.
My inquisitor was a type of the grovelling bully. He tried to put one or two posers to me, but got more than he expected in return; and I actually got a smile out of the Emir, which elicited the loud and flattering applause of the retainers, when I suggested that my questioner was behaving very like a traitor himself in trying to cast a slur on the character of one of the Emir’s most faithful subjects. I told that monarch that I had come all the way from Illorin to serve him, and this was the way I was being treated—dragged, beaten and bleeding, before him from a dungeon, and bound like a common slave. Suddenly the Emir asked me how many white men there were in Borgu; I told him about one hundred thousand, and more to come. He seemed greatly impressed, as well he might be. I then craved permission to enter his service, and he inquired if I could ride. I told him to try me. This he agreed to do. If I could ride and prove myself worthy of entering his service he said he would pardon my imprudence of yesterday and make me a member of his bodyguard.
My bonds were cut, and as these fell from me the pain of the blood returning to my swollen, half-numbed hands was excruciating. I managed, however, to keep a brave face. We retired from the Emir’s presence and waited outside under a great shady tree, where, eventually, a fiercely-pawing stallion was brought up, and I was ordered to mount. This I did, the brute biting, kicking, and plunging all the time. I had to get into one of those horrible native saddles that box you up completely, fore and aft. Once mounted, I let the horse do as he pleased, and he led me a terrible dance, rearing and plunging about, dashing first to one side and then another. As he was in the midst of his attempts to buck me off, the Emir appeared and stood watching the tussle with interest. As a matter of fact, the horse had not much chance when once I was on his back, for I had had a great deal of experience of the Haussa beast, and knew his ways. He soon grew tired, and within half an hour was quite submissive. I used no stick, but just sat quietly in the saddle. To my surprise and delight the Emir told me that the horse was mine, and that I was to come to see him on the morrow, about noon. I thanked him gratefully and rode off, Mama walking by my stirrup.
After a consultation we agreed that it would be dangerous to remain in the town any longer, as our enemies were bound to try to get the better of us, sooner or later. We therefore arranged that Mama should leave the town at once, and make for Boussa as best he could, on foot; I would leave that night. We then parted, and I was left alone in the midst of the enemy.
At sundown I rode through the south gate, but was immediately stopped by the guard. I told them that I came by order of the Emir, but they demanded proof. This was distinctly awkward, for, of course, I had no proof to give. I therefore resolved upon a bold stroke. I requested the chief to ride with me, telling him I would give him in confidence all the proof he would require. Unsuspectingly he rode up alongside. Leaning over towards him, I suddenly gripped him by the throat with both hands, at the same time ramming my heels into my horse’s sides. The startled animal leapt forward, wrenching my opponent from the saddle with a jerk, and I swung him across my horse’s withers, where I held him—my right hand on his throat, my left gripping his left knee, bending him backwards like a bow. In this fashion we flew along the path by which two days before I had entered the robber city on foot.
A howl of execration and a clatter of hoofs followed us, and a shower of arrows and spears fell harmlessly on either side of me. When we had gone about a quarter of a mile I slid my hapless prisoner off on to his head, intending to stun him. My horse, feeling the relief, went away at renewed speed, and I had no difficulty in outdistancing my pursuers, especially as they stopped to see to their unconscious chief. I met one party of traders coming into the town, but they stood aside to let me thunder past, not doubting that I was an emissary of the Emir on some urgent business. The moon was just rising as I topped a low ridge, and all the world was soon bathed in a soft and silvery veil of light. Kontogora was far behind in the plain, the thousand conical roofs away in the distance looking strangely unreal.
As I drew near the five mile radius I began to wonder how I was going to get through the line of scouts. Capture now would mean death in some horrible form or other; at all costs I must not be taken alive. Suddenly I heard a shout far away on my right, and in the dim light saw a body of horsemen coming my way. Touching my mount with my heels I again gave him his head, and he flew like the wind, with ever-increasing speed. The pace was terrific and absolutely foolhardy in that light, although the road was fairly good. I expected every moment to be pitched head foremost to the ground, but the surefooted beast kept on without a stumble. The shouts and thunder of hoofs behind grew fainter and fainter, until at last, to my infinite relief, they entirely died away. Still, however, I kept on. Here and there, when the road passed through a village or beside a farm, frightened figures would slink away into the shadows and a startled cur would burst into a violent fit of barking, as I clattered by on my panting steed, now reeking and white with sweat.