My exit had been made at the edge of the forest, within actual sight of the towering Rock of the Moon-god, and having riveted its exact position upon my memory, I plucked some bananas and ate them, afterwards setting my face to the north on my long journey back to Kano.
Following the directions given me by my lost friend Yakul, I searched for the track which he had told me ran through the great forest to Ipoto, and after some little difficulty discovered it; then, traversing it for many days amid the forest gloom, I at length reached the town he had named. To detail my journey northward is unnecessary. Ever pressing forward, and without meeting with much adventure, I swam the Ihourou river, and joining a party of traders, crossed the rocky country of the Mbelia, passing beneath the snow-capped summit of the mountain called Nai, eventually arriving at Niam-Niam. Here I was fortunate enough to fall in with a caravan bound for Katsena, within the Empire of the Sultan ’Othman; and three moons after my escape from Ea I experienced the delight of seeing the minarets and cupolas of Kano rise dark against the blood-red sunset.
News I gained in Katsena, however, had caused me most intense anxiety. Although, as far as I could learn, no conspiracy against the Sultan had been attempted, yet I heard from Arab traders in the market-place that Azala, my beloved, was to be given as bride to the Khalifa, in order to further cement the friendship between Sokoto and the Eastern Soudan. It had been arranged months ago, before the Khalifa’s return to Omdurman, and the date of Azala’s departure for the east was already past. Therefore, in fear lest the woman I loved should have already left, under escort, to become bride of the brutal autocrat, I spurred forward over the desert to Kano.
My first breathless question of the guards at the gate was of Azala. She had not left, they answered, but preparations were complete, and she would go forth, with a large armed escort, at noon on the morrow. Then I made sudden resolve, and entered the great Fada to boldly seek audience of the Sultan ’Othman, the ruler who had forbidden me to re-enter his Empire on pain of death.
While passing beneath the high, sun-blanched wall of the harem, on my way to the Hall of Audience, I came face to face with the dwarf Tiamo, who, on beholding me whom he thought dead, stood petrified. When I had reassured him, he briefly explained how he had returned to Azala with news of my tragic end; how, overwhelmed by bitter grief, she had become careless of everything, even of her betrothal to the Khalifa. Hastily I scribbled a message of reassurance in Arabic to my well-beloved, and the impish little man hobbled away with it secreted in his gaudy sash, while I continued my way to crave speech with the autocrat. After many formalities, I was allowed to approach the divan, where he sat in his green silk robe, calmly smoking; but as I advanced his keen eyes recognised my face, and his brow darkened grimly.
“Well?” he exclaimed in anger, as I bowed the knee before him. “What seekest thou? Have I not already expelled thee from this my kingdom?”
“Yea, O Sultan,” I answered. “But I would have a word with thee in private. I desire to impart unto thee a secret.”
“Of what?” he inquired, with a quick look of suspicion.
“I have witnessed that which the eyes of men have never before beheld,” I answered, “I have discovered the Land of the No Return!”
The Sultan started up at my words, and the greatest sensation was created among his assembled court. For a moment Azala’s father regarded me keenly; then, uttering a word, waved his hand, signifying his desire to speak with me in private. Instantly the crowd of courtiers, slaves, eunuchs and soldiers retired, and a few minutes later we were alone.