The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason

by William Le Queux

"How?" I inquired, noticing that the wall of the great cliff was perfectly smooth.

He smiled.

"Be patient, and you shall see. Only friends can enter Mo; an enemy never."

At that moment Kona desired to consult him regarding our camping arrangements, and turning I left them and wandered a little way along the valley. Presently, although its fertility was pleasant, I noticed that the air had a strange fœtid odour, and, shortly afterwards, while walking in the long rank grass my feet struck against something, which, on examination, I found to be the decomposing body of a man. He wore a burnouse, and from the long-barrelled musket that lay by his side I concluded it was an Arab. As I went forward I discovered bodies scattered in twos and threes over the grass-plain. Great grey vultures were tearing the rotting flesh from the bones, feasting upon the carrion. Broken guns, bent swords and blunted daggers lay about in profusion, while the further I went, the more numerous became the hideous bodies which the long grass seemed to be striving to hide. This was assuredly the battle-field whereon the army of the Great White Queen had defeated the expedition sent by Samory. Truly the slaughter must have been appalling, and little wonder was it that the survivors whom we had met and annihilated should have fought so desperately for their lives.

Judging from the great pile of corpses, the stand made by Samory's Arabs must have been a dogged and stubborn one, for traces of a most desperate battle were everywhere apparent, yet their defeat must have been crushing and complete, for hundreds of the invaders had apparently been mowed down where they had stood. Others had fallen in hand-to-hand encounters, their limbs slashed and disabled by keener swords than their own, while many seemed literally riddled by bullets which could never have been fired by ordinary guns, or if so, at such close quarters that in nearly every case the balls had passed clean through their bodies.

The number of corpses lying in the grass were too numerous to count, but at a rough estimate there must have been several thousands. The air of that beautiful valley was suffocating on account of the stench they emitted, and the river was poisoned by the heaps of bodies that had been hurled into it.

This valley, that had appeared a veritable paradise from the summit of the rock, was in reality a Valley of Death.

So nauseating was the smell that Omar decided upon pitching the camp at a point lower down, for so exhausted were we all and so dark was it growing that it became imperative we should remain there for the night. So we bivouacked half a mile away from the spot where the Thousand Steps descended, our fire was lit, and after a little food had been served out, we threw ourselves upon the grass, and, worn out by fatigue, slept heavily and well.

The valley was filled with a thick mist that rose from the river, overspreading everything and saturating our scanty clothing with moisture, causing us to be chilly and uncomfortable. It was this fact, perhaps, that awakened me during the night, when all my companions lying around were snoring soundly, dreaming most probably, of their triumphant entry into the land of the great Naya. Becoming fully awake, I heard the swish of a footstep through the grass, and, raising my head, saw at a little distance from me Omar, standing alone. With his back turned to me he was gazing up at the summit of the rock we had yet to gain, bearing in his hand a fire-brand that had apparently been lit at the dying embers of our fire. The brand, blazing and crackling, threw his lithe figure into relief, and I saw that his face wore an eager, anxious look. His gaze seemed rivetted upon the highest pinnacle of the great rock, as if he had noticed some unusual aspect.

During several minutes he remained motionless, his eyes fixed in that direction. At first I was impelled to rise and join him, but not knowing why, I remained there motionless watching. Presently I heard a loud cry of joy escape his lips, and with frantic gesture he waved the fire-brand quickly from left to right, sometimes with a sharp motion, and at others slowly.