The Devil-Tree of El Dorado: A Novel

Thus Templemore and Elwood were now able to mingle more freely with the populace and to see more of their social life. And, wherever they went, they were well received, and treated with both confidence and respect. They visited the houses of people of all classes, from the palaces of the nobles to the dwellings of the peasantry, if so the lower classes might be called. There were, however, no poor in the country, in the ordinary sense of the word. The crops grown were supplied to all alike; every one had plenty to eat, and plenty of clothes to wear, and well-built houses to live in. And, beyond these requisites, there was little in the land to pine for. There were forests, and from these all were free to cut wood for fuel; the electric light was laid on to all alike. The water they required they supplied themselves with from the lake, or from one or other of the streams that everywhere gushed forth from the rocks above. Of shops there were none; but there was a market-place, and a sort of market or exchange was held there once a week. Even this, however, was falling into disuse. There was a currency; and there were many kinds of coins; but they were seldom used. They were of ancient make and were preserved rather as curiosities, seemingly, than for use. There was so little that the people wanted, either to buy or sell, that a simple system of barter sufficed for practically all their needs.

Elwood and Templemore, as they came to know all these things, and gained experience of the simple good-nature of the people, felt increased indignation and resentment against the priests. They saw that the horrible tyranny of these men had turned a land that might have been a realm of perfect peace and goodwill, into one where constant dread and hopeless misery and suffering had become so common, that all seemed helplessly resigned to it.

One day, when the two were in a boat with Ulama and Zonella, Kalaima, and others, Templemore, who had been talking of these matters, asked whether the state of things they had seen had been of long duration.

The reply came from Zonella.

“Ever since the time of the great Mellenda. So we are told. It is the punishment sent by the Great Spirit upon the people for their ingratitude to him.”

“And who was Mellenda?” asked Elwood.

“What! You ask who was Mellenda? But I forgot; of course, you have not been here very long, and cannot know our history and legends.”

“I have been prying about more in your museums than has my friend,” Jack observed, “and I have learned something of Mellenda. But I know nothing of any legend. Pray let us hear it.”

“Yes, tell us about it,” Leonard urged. “I like fine old legends and tales of wonder.”

“Ask the princess to tell you.”

“No, no, Zonella,” Ulama interposed. “You began it; you finish it. Besides, you are more learned in such things than I am.”

“Very well,” Zonella said resignedly. “I can only give it as I know it. If you want further details, you must go to the museum, or ask Colenna, the High Chamberlain, who is a very learned man. Only I do not wish you to ridicule it” – this to the two young men – “for, though I call it a legend, yet it is history; and all our people implicitly believe it. You could not offend them more than by treating it lightly or affecting to disbelieve it. I give you that as a caution, more particularly,” she added, looking mischievously at Jack, “for I know that you are very much inclined to scepticism in such things.”

“I will promise to be very good, and to make no frivolous remarks,” was Jack’s laughing answer.

“Then you must know,” Zonella began, “that we deem Mellenda the greatest of our kings; that is, of our later kings. Our ancient line of kings before him had made Manoa the greatest, the most powerful, and the richest country of the world. These mountains that you have seen around us were all islands in a great lake – the lake of Parima. Its waters extended to the great mountains that we can sometimes see from the highest points about Manoa – far, far away. But over those, and over lands in every direction, our nation held sway. These islands were our chief fastnesses, and this one, Manoa, being the highest and the most naturally favoured of them all, was the seat of government, and its city was the capital to which were brought all the wealth and the most valued productions of the other countries that formed part of its empire.

“But, after many mighty kings had lived and died, a weakness seemed to fall upon the people. They were defeated in battle; provinces revolted, and many distant parts of the empire were lost, passing under other kings. At that time, it is said, our kings and nobles and chiefs among the nation were too much given to feasting and enjoyment; and, it is declared, they began cruelly to oppress the weaker of the people. And a change came over the religion. Up to then all had worshipped only one Great Spirit, who was said to be a good Spirit – the great ruler of all spirits, in fact, and his priests were called ‘Children of the Light.’ Their rule – what they taught – was gentle; it is recorded that they were men of peace and of great – very, very great – wisdom. But another religion had been introduced, coming, it is believed, from some of the lands that had been conquered; and this was the exact opposite of the old one. Its votaries and high priests called themselves ‘Children of the Night’; they worshipped, not one God, but many strange and terrible gods; their priests, also, were thought to possess great wisdom, but of an evil kind. They taught that there was but one way to escape the power of the Spirits of Darkness, and that was by propitiating them by constant sacrifices; and they killed many people at their festivals to give them to their gods.

“Then Mellenda came to the throne. He was the only son of the last of the ancient line of kings. While young he had travelled far and gained much knowledge in strange countries; and he had already, as general of some of his father’s armies, defeated the enemies of the country, and regained some of the lost provinces. His father was killed in battle, and Mellenda immediately set about plans for reviving the old power and recovering the former empire of the nation. He taught, too, that the White religion was the true religion, and he made endeavours to put down the other. But he was absent for long periods at a time, upon distant expeditions, from which, it is true, he always returned victorious; but, while he was away, establishing peace and order in some distant province, the Dark Priests were craftily at work undermining his authority at home. However, for a long time, nothing came of their plottings, and Mellenda reigned for several hundred years – ”

“That’s a long time,” Jack interrupted, regardless of his promise.

“For several hundred years,” repeated Zonella with a reproving look at the interrupter, “which was not very long, considering that his father had reigned for fifteen hundred years, and was then cut off, in the flower of his age, by an accident in battle. He (Mellenda) had restored peace at last throughout the whole empire; reformed the style of living, himself setting an example of great simplicity; and his wisdom and justice and kindness of heart had made him revered and loved wherever the name of Manoa was known. Then, finally, he married a princess he was passionately fond of, named Elmonta, and had four children, upon whom, they say, he lavished the most tender love. But some occasion arose for him to leave Manoa once more, to visit a distant part of his great empire. There was a treaty of alliance to be made with another monarch, or some such matter of importance. He sailed away and returned after a long absence, to find that Coryon – ”

“Coryon!” exclaimed Jack, once more forgetful of his promises.

“Yes, Coryon, the same Coryon, as is believed, that we have here in the land to-day. He had seized upon the government and gained over a vast number of the most dissolute and discontented spirits to his side. He was then, as now, the chief of the Dark Brotherhood, or Children of the Night. All the crowd of idle, self-indulgent nobles and men of wealth, but of loose life, among the people, whom Mellenda had rebuked and curbed, broke out and joined Coryon’s revolt; and they actually seized upon Elmonta, Mellenda’s queen, and his children, and offered them as sacrifices to their gods. Coryon set up a king of his own choosing; and, when Mellenda returned, he found his wife and children dead, and the government in the hands of a puppet king controlled by Coryon, who threatened him with death if he landed and fell into his hands. Such was the message sent out to Mellenda when he arrived in sight of our island on his return, successful in the mission that had called him away, and impatient to get back to his wife and children. He had with him a great fleet of vessels; and, though the revolt had spread to the other islands, he could, perhaps, have found followers enough in other parts of the empire to have regained his throne, had he been so minded. But he was broken-hearted, and said that, since his wife and children were no longer living, he had nothing left to fight for, and cared not to take part in a civil war with his own people. Instead, he decreed that their punishment should be that he (Mellenda) would go away and leave them for many ages to suffer under the lash of the foul religion they had supported; till all who had sinned against him saw their wicked error, when he would return to punish finally the Dark Priests and those who still wilfully supported them. Then, and for ever afterwards, there should be peace and happiness and justice throughout the land for all his people.

“So Mellenda sailed away, and was never seen or heard of more. Not long after his departure came the great sinking of the waters, and the lake of Parima disappeared. This the better-disposed inhabitants left here regarded as a special punishment for their allowing Coryon to usurp the government and drive away the great, good, and wise Mellenda. And they rose up against Coryon and the king he had set up. But the crafty priest had obtained too strong a position for the movement to succeed. Moreover, he managed to pacify a part of his opponents in a strange way. He declared he had not put to death all Mellenda’s children, and produced a boy, who, it is said, was recognised by those who ought to know as one of Mellenda’s children. This child he promised to place upon the throne; and afterwards he did so.

“The nation, shut off from all the world, has much decreased in numbers, and is now unknown where it was once all-powerful. For centuries, it is said, the surrounding country was but a chaos of swamp and mud. By degrees there grew up vegetation, and finally trees that, in time, became thick, tangled forests that could not be penetrated. Thus, for long ages, we have been cut off from all the other peoples of the world. Some parties were sent out, hundreds of years ago, to explore the surrounding country; but some never returned, and those who did brought back such terrible accounts of awful woods haunted by fearful creatures, and of deserts beyond, inhabited only by black demons, that it was considered better to keep the country here entirely to ourselves. So I believe the only known way that led out into the woods was sealed up for good; and thus ended the last attempt to communicate with the outside world.

“Many of the White Priests fled to Mellenda’s vessels, and were taken away with him when he departed; but the others, including their chief, Sanaima, retired to Myrlanda, where they have ever since maintained themselves.

“That is the story of Mellenda, and of how he left us, and of what befell the proud city of Manoa after his departure. When he will come back we know not; but some old prophecies obtain amongst the people according to which the time of his return is very near, if it is not indeed overpast.”

“His return!” said Jack. “You surely would not have us understand that you expect this venerable old fossil to return, in the flesh, to trouble himself about the present state of the descendants of his ungrateful people?”

Zonella stared.

“Why, of course we do!” she answered. “There is not a man or a woman – scarcely a child of a few years old – that has not been taught to believe in it.”

“I should think so,” Ulama exclaimed, almost indignantly. “We all know it will be so; we believe it absolutely.”

“But,” said Jack, “how long ago do you reckon all this took place?”

“About two thousand years,” Zonella replied, after a brief, but apparently careful, calculation, counting up on her fingers.

“Two thousand years! And you – you two sensible young people – tell us you expect to see this badly-treated, but respectable, old gentleman turn up again, just much as usual, I suppose, after two thousand years!”

“Why not?” Ulama asked. “We have Coryon and Sanaima, both said to be older than that.”

“Yes – but” – looking at Leonard – “I fancy that is like the Pharoahs of old, you know, where there was always a Pharoah on the throne, though kings were born and died. It would be easy to keep up a farce of that sort where, as here, the ‘High Priest,’ black or white, is so seldom visible – always in the background.”

“But if the king is three hundred and forty, may it not be possible to live to two thousand, or more? I can point out many men of more than five hundred in the king’s palace,” observed Zonella.

The gentle Ulama, even, looked somewhat offended.

“We do not question the wonderful things you tell us about the world outside,” she said. “Why should you question what we know to be true?”

“It seems to me,” said Leonard, “that it all depends upon the virtues of the ‘Plant of Life.’ Now, if that herb, or plant, or whatever it is, really has the qualities attributed to it, why, the rest is easy enough.”

“I admit that,” Jack said, laughing. “When once that is conceded, a man may just as easily live to five thousand years. Only, even in that case, I see a difficulty. How would Mellenda get the necessary ‘Plant of Life’ away from here?”

“The White Priests who went away with him would not be likely to leave their secret behind,” explained Zonella. “Besides, it is specially stated in our historical manuscripts – so Colenna has told me – that those who went out from the island for long periods – governors of distant provinces and the like – not only took a large supply of the dried plant with them, but seeds that they might grow it; and in some places they found the plant do well; though they kept its virtues a secret from the peoples they went amongst. These things would be known to Mellenda and to the White Priests who went away with him; and, probably, they settled in a place where they knew the plant was being grown.”

“Were that so, it would explain something of the former far-reaching fame and power of a small nation of islanders like these,” said Leonard. “The secret of such a plant – the rapid increase of population when there were so few deaths in proportion – would of course give them a long pull over other nations.”

“As to the question whether we seriously expect Mellenda to return to us,” resumed Zonella, “in the large museum you will see one of his suits of armour, his banner, and a celebrated sword of his, all kept bright and ready for use and well preserved. They are kept there waiting for him.”

“I saw them,” Jack remarked. “He must have been a big fine man, if that suit fitted him. But, to go back to the son of this great king, said to have been saved after all, and then put on the throne; did he have any descendants?”

Zonella nodded.

“There have been five kings in the direct line since.”

“I see. So that the present king is – ”

“A great-great-great-grandson of the great Mellenda,” put in Ulama.

“I think it was rather fortunate you managed as you did when you came here,” Zonella said after a pause; “for, if Coryon had been the first to know of you strangers being in the country, he would have striven in every way to have killed or captured you. They say he is a firm believer in the early coming of Mellenda, and is in mortal terror about it.”

Jack was silent awhile, and then he observed drily,

“Well, all I can say is that I should very much like to see the good gentleman, if he is still about; and I only hope and wish he will arrive while we are here. If he has been travelling around all these years, by this time he must know a thing or two! I wonder whether he will come in a balloon!”

CHAPTER XIX

HOPES AND FEARS

Amongst other advantages of the peace or truce that had been arranged with the mysterious Coryon, one was that Elwood and Templemore were free to visit the canyon and the caves where their reserve stores lay, and assure themselves that they were all safe. To do this they had to arrange to be away one night, since it was a day’s journey each way. That night they passed in the cavern – which they had named ‘Monella Cave’ in honour of their friend; the canyon itself they called ‘Fairy Valley’ – and their camp equipage being all found intact where they had hidden it away, they had everything at hand for making themselves comfortable. They found, on examination, that the stone that closed the entrance was in the same position as when they had left it. Having removed the wooden bars, they rolled it to one side, and looked out into the gloomy depths of Roraima Forest.

From this outlook Templemore turned back with a shudder of disgust.

“How I hate that forest!” he exclaimed. “How miserable it seems out there! Verily it is wonderful, if you come to think of it, that we ever had the patience and perseverance to cut our way through to this place.”

“We never should have done so, but for Monella’s influence,” observed Leonard. “How strange it all seems, doesn’t it? Now that we are back here, we could almost think all we have been through a dream. One thing is certain; no other party of explorers would ever work their way through this wood as we did; they would get disheartened before the end of the first week. Nor could they possibly do any good by persevering, unless they had that to guide them which Monella had. What is that piece of white over there?”

And Leonard indicated a white patch upon a tree-trunk at the edge of the clearing.

Templemore took out his glasses and looked through them.

“It’s a piece of paper,” he cried excitedly. “Some one’s been here! We must go out and inquire into this!” The ladder was quickly got out, and they hurried down it and across the clearing to the tree that bore the unexpected affiche. But, though the paper must have been purposely nailed in its place it was blank; on opening it, however, they found a few straight lines that formed a somewhat vague resemblance to the letter M.

“Matava has been here!” Leonard cried out. “All he can do in the writing line is to make some marks that mean M – his own initial, you know. Poor fellow! Fancy his venturing here to seek for us!”

The paper had been folded many times, the ‘M’ being in the inside; and it had been nailed just under an overhanging piece of bark, as a protection from the weather.

“He must have executed this elaborate piece of penmanship at ‘Monella Lodge’,” said Jack, “and brought it with him in case his journey here should be in vain. He’s a good fellow! Knowing, as we do, how he and all his tribe abhor this wood and the mountain, we can appreciate the devotion that led him to screw up his courage so far. And then to have come for nothing! It’s too bad, poor chap! What a pity we could not have got down here and seen him! Plainly he had some hope we might return, or he would not have left this simple yet ingeniously contrived message for us!”

“His hope would be but a faint one at best,” Leonard replied gravely. “Having been here and found the entrance fast closed, and after our failing to make any signals, as arranged, I fear he will carry back an alarming tale to Georgetown.”

“I fear so too, Leonard,” Jack assented very seriously. “They will be terribly alarmed about us; worse than if he had gone straight back without coming here.”

That evening, after they had cooked their evening meal, they sat by the smouldering fire, both silent and both thoughtful. Jack smoked away moodily at his pipe; Leonard was absolutely idle, except that he turned his eyes, now on the glow of failing daylight overhead, then down at the scene around him.

Each knew what was in the other’s mind; yet neither liked to be the first to speak of it. But at last Jack spoke.

“It’s no use blinking the fact, Leonard,” he began, “that this visit of Matava here and the account he is sure to carry back is a serious matter. Our friends will be more than alarmed; they will, perhaps, give us up for dead. This raises the whole question again, What are we going to do here, how long are we going to stay, and what about getting back? We can’t stay here for ever – at least, I certainly don’t mean to. I don’t like the idea of going away and leaving you here. Where are we drifting to?”

Leonard was gloomy. He had been so more or less ever since that conversation with Monella about Ulama. For a few minutes he made no reply; then said, with a tinge of bitterness in his tone,

“You must wait awhile, Jack. I am not prepared to say yet, but – it may be I shall be ready to clear out soon with you.”

Jack raised his eyebrows and gave a brief, but keen, glance at his friend. Then he smoked on stolidly for a while and ruminated.

“There’s one who will never go back with us,” presently he went on, “and that’s Monella. He spoke truly when he said he should never return to ‘civilisation.’ He seems to have resolved to make his home here for the future. He is now the king’s right hand – his ‘guide, counsellor, and friend,’ with him constantly, except when he’s away in the place they call Myrlanda, on some mysterious business. And, perhaps, the oddest thing of all is that he is the most popular man at the court – even with those he has, in a sense, displaced. You would think there would be all kinds of envy, and hatred, and jealousy, and counter-plotting, and general ‘ructions,’ when a stranger, suddenly come from goodness knows where, stepped upon the scene and became straight away the favourite and confidant and counsellor of the king! Yet, the more he takes that character upon himself, the more they all seem to like him!”

“Who can help liking him?” Leonard sighed. “Who can help loving him? Even where he reproves, he does it so tenderly you only love him the more for it. How can any one feel jealous, or angry, or envious with a man who behaves to all as he does? For myself I do not wonder; he was born to be a leader of men, as I said long ago; he has that magnetic attraction that makes a great commander – a commander who inspires such devotion that thousands and hundreds of thousands are ready to give their lives for but a glance of approval or a word of praise. There can’t be many such men at this moment in the world; there cannot have been many since the world was made. But, when such a man appears, he quickly spreads his influence around him.”

Jack gave a little laugh; but not an ill-natured one.

“You are as full as ever of enthusiasm for your hero,” he remarked, “though he has been a sort of cold shower-bath to you lately, eh?”

Leonard coloured, and shifted uneasily on his seat.

“How did you know that?” he asked.

“I guessed it, old man. In fact, I saw the ‘cold shower-bath’ in his eye that day – you know.”

“Yes – perhaps you are not far out, Jack. However, I promised to leave things in his hands, and there they must remain at present. Of his regard for me I have no doubt whatever – or for us both. If he cannot do the almost impossible, I shall accept my fate, and try to bear it as well as may be. Let us say no more about it now.”

Jack, who for all his usual habit of appearing somewhat unobservant, could see most things, thought he could have told his friend of some one else who was displaying signs of unhappiness under Monella’s ‘cold shower-bath’ treatment – Ulama, to wit. She had become very quiet and grave of late; and, indeed, the fresh, childish gaiety she had shown during the first few days after their arrival had disappeared. But Jack discreetly decided to keep these thoughts to himself, and let events take their course. He knew that they were in the keeping of a head wiser and more far-seeing than his own – Monella’s. Of late they had seen comparatively little of him; he was most of his time either closeted with the king, or had gone, it was said, to Myrlanda, to visit Sanaima, the chief of the ‘White Priests.’ On these occasions he would be away for two or three days together. Yet, whenever either of the young men chanced to run against him – or, if they met at the king’s table – they found no alteration in his manner. Indeed, he showed, if anything, increased kindliness in both his words and actions, often going out of his way to do some little thing, in a manner all his own, to show, before whoever might be present, his cordial feelings towards them. For the rest, he had the air of one whose mind is charged with anxious and weighty thoughts, and both Templemore and Elwood felt rather than knew that he was occupied with fears of trouble in the future.