The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason

"By what means do her fighting-men come forth from her unapproachable land?" I inquired, remembering that we were travelling by the secret way known only to herself and Omar.

"I know not," he replied. "The manner in which the hosts of Mo appear and disappear have, from time immemorial, formed a subject of speculation among our people. That they have appeared on the Ashanti border and sacked and burned many towns in retaliation for some outrages committed by the Ashantis upon our people is well-known, but by what route they came or returned is a mystery. Some say they came like flocks of birds through the air; others declare that they can transfer themselves from one place to another and become invisible at will. Neither of these theories I myself believe, for I am convinced that between the land of Mo and the Great Salt Road there exists a secret means of communication, so that the armies of the Naya can appear so suddenly and unexpectedly as to escape the vigilance of their enemy's scouts. Many are the battles they have fought and great the slaughter. In the slave-land of Samory they engaged twelve moons ago the pick of the Arab army, and defeated them with appalling loss. It is said, too, that they carry some of the strange guns made by your people, the white men."

"You mean Maxims," I said.

"I know not their name, nor have I ever seen one," he answered. "I have heard, however, from a Sofa who fought against the English in the last war, that the weapons are so light that a man can easily carry one, and that when fired they shed streams of bullets like water from a spout. A single gun is equal to the fire of two hundred men. Truly you white men possess many marvels."

"Yes," I said, smiling at his unbounded admiration for the weapon. "But is it not strange that the Naya should also possess similar marvels?"

"No. Everything is strange in the land of the Great White Queen. It is said to be a country full of amazing mysteries. Many are the extraordinary stories related by my people of the wonders of Mo; wonders that we shall ere long witness with our own eyes."

"What are the stories?" I asked, keenly interested. "Tell me one."

"There are so many," he answered, "I do not know which one to tell. One, however, will illustrate the awe with which the Naya is regarded, even by the powerful Prempeh, King of Ashanti. A story is current that one day, many moons ago, the King had ordered a great 'custom' to take place in Kumassi. War had been declared against the Queen of the English, and in order to obtain the good graces of the fetish a thousand slaves were ordered to be sacrificed. All was ready and the king sat upon his stool awaiting the decapitation of the first victim, when suddenly there swept down from above a large white dove, which, after circling for a moment above the monarch's umbrella, perched upon the edge of the execution bowl. The executioner swept it aside with his ready sword, but in an instant, by some invisible power, the broad-bladed weapon fused and melted as if in a furnace, while the executioner himself, struck down as if by lightning, fell upon his face stone dead. Still the dove remained where it had perched with its head turned towards the ruler of the Ashantis. A second executioner, ere it was discovered that the first was dead, struck at the bird with his hand, and he too, as well as a third and fourth, were similarly smitten with death. 'It is an evil omen!' the people cried, and Prempeh, his eyes rivetted upon the white, innocent-looking bird, trembled. Suddenly, one of the sages at the king's right hand cried: 'See, O Master! It is the Great White Queen, the ruler of Mo! She taketh the form of a dove when she seeketh the destruction of her enemies!' Then spake the dove, saying: 'Yea, O hated king who sheddeth the blood of the innocent and exalteth the guilty. The sacrifice of victims to the fetish shall not avail thee, for I, Naya of Mo, tell thee that thy downfall is at hand, and thine enemies the English will press their way from the great sea, bridge the Prah, and cut a road across the great forest to this thy capital, where thou shalt make abject submission to their head-man and shall be carried into degrading captivity by them. Thy treasures shall be seized, the tombs of thy fathers shall be opened and desecrated, thy fetish-trees shall be cut down and thy slaves shall revel in thy palace. And it is I, in my present form, who shall guide the white men unto their victory.' The king, dumbfounded at these ominous words proceeding from the beak of a bird, rose to retort, but ere a word left his mouth the dove spread its wings and flew away northward in the direction of the land we are now approaching."

"That's merely a tale," I observed, laughing at this latest illustration of the African's belief in the impossible.

"Of course. You asked me for one of the stories told by our people," Kona said. "I have told you one."

"Do you believe that this Great White Queen is invested with such extraordinary power that she can cause herself to be invisible, and while bringing destruction to her enemies, assist her friends?" I asked.

"I know not what to believe," he replied in honest bewilderment. "So many are the tales I have heard that I find it impossible to believe all, and have ended by disbelieving most. Many of the men with us firmly believe at this moment that the Naya, invisible, is at our head guiding her son across the Way of the Thousand Steps, and that to her our victory last night was due. Our fate lies in her hands."

"Well," I answered, amused, "it matters not who leads us so long as we enter the promised land. At any rate we could have no better nor more trustworthy guide than he who is at our head."

Next second, a loud cry from Omar attracted our attention.

CHAPTER XVI

WORDS OF FIRE

Raising our eyes from the straight narrow path whereon we set our feet in the footprints of those before us, we halted and looked eagerly ahead.

We had come to the edge of what seemed a shallow depression, and already Omar had disappeared from view, followed cautiously by those immediately behind him. Owing to the cries of warning and astonishment from each man who reached the edge, I advanced, carefully following my black companion in front until I at length gained the spot where the path ended.

Involuntarily a cry of amazement escaped me. I looked over into a fearful abyss. Below was a fertile valley, but so deep was it that the river looked only like a silver thread, and the trees but an inch in height. I was standing on the edge of a huge granite cliff that went down sheer into the valley, its face almost as flat as the side of a house.

The descent appeared terrible. I shuddered as I looked over, and Kona, who came behind me, also peeped down and cried:

"See! It is the Great Gulf about which we have heard. Into this the Naya hurls her enemies."

On the opposite side, about a quarter of a mile distant, gigantic overhanging crags rose from the valley to a height greater than the rock whereon we were kneeling. At a glance we could both see that to scale the wall of rock opposite would be impossible owing to its overhanging nature, therefore, we concluded that our way lay along the fertile valley where the cool welcome green refreshed our eyes.

Already Omar and a couple of dozen of our black followers were carefully swarming down the face of the rock. Now and then warning shouts arose from them, and ever and anon Omar's voice could be heard giving directions, or urging caution. The latter was certainly necessary, for a single false step would mean a terrible death.

As I gazed down into the deep abyss I felt my head reeling. There is a fascination in great heights that impels one to thoughts of self-destruction. A sudden dizziness seized me as I placed my foot over the edge of the fearful precipice, and were it not for Kona, who, noticing my condition, gripped me by the arm, I should have certainly missed my footing and been dashed to pieces on the needle-like crags at the base.

The sudden knowledge that I had been within an ace of death caused me to hold my breath; then I crept cautiously over the edge. For a moment, with my hands clutching frantically upon a jutting piece of rock, my legs swung in mid air, failing to find a foothold, and I cried out, fearing lest I should again fall. But at last my feet struck against a projection, and upon it I carefully lowered myself, while Kona also swung himself over, taking the perilous position I had a moment before occupied. Again and again I lowered myself, gripping on to the successive projections, and lowering myself until my feet touched the one below, thus descending as Omar had done.

"Be careful, Scars," he presently cried from far below. "Drop straight, and look to your footing."

His words caused me to reflect upon the strange fact that each of these projections, almost like natural steps, were placed immediately below one another. Whether they were actually natural formations, or whether they were the work of man I could not determine. Yet they seemed interminable, and sometimes so far apart that I remained stationary, fearing to let myself go until, urged downward by Kona, I held my breath, and, steadying myself, dropped upon the narrow ledge below. Dreading a recurrence of giddiness I dared not to look down at my companions. My bare feet and hands were blistered and cut by the sharp edges of the rocks, and my movements were seriously hampered by the musket slung at my back.

The descent was terribly fatiguing. The way across the quicksands had been so level that we had walked, counting our paces mechanically, but now in every movement there was danger, and terror gripped my heart with a gauntlet of steel. From every pore there broke from me a cold perspiration, as from each tiny projection I lowered myself, not knowing whether my feet would find another resting-place. For my black companions, who were taller and more muscular, the way was not nearly so difficult, and Kona, aware of this, assisted me whenever possible.

Once, when I found myself progressing well, and apparently having successfully negotiated the more dangerous of these natural steps, I paused for a few moments to breathe, and, summoning courage, looked down to where the others were scrambling below. I was then amazed to discover that, notwithstanding all the fatigue, the distance I had covered was scarcely perceptible. I still seemed almost as far from the base of the rock as I was when first I had peered over into the abyss. Suddenly, without warning, I felt the rock give way beneath my feet, and the next instant the whole projection, loosened by the weight of Omar and his followers who had preceded me, fell away beneath me, and crashed straight down into the valley.

My presence of mind caused me just at that instant to grip the ledge above, otherwise I, too, must have gone with my unstable resting-place. It was indeed a narrow escape, and as clinging on with my hands, my legs again swinging in mid air, I heard the heavy rock, weighing perhaps a ton, strike a projection under me and then crash down, carrying all before it.

There was an appalling shriek from below, and I dreaded to turn my gaze downward, fearing that my companions had been swept away by the great mass of stone. At last, however, I looked in trepidation and was gratified to notice that the projection struck by the rock had been left by the man preceding me, and that the course of the descending stone had been altered so that all had escaped.

"Careful up there!" shouted Omar angrily. "Don't spring upon the steps, or they will become loosened like that one. It might have swept the whole lot of us into the valley if its course had not been turned. Lower yourselves slowly—very slowly—take plenty of time."

"I did it, Omar," I cried breathlessly. "It was an accident. I could not avoid it, and nearly fell, too."

But it was apparent that my voice did not reach him, for he slowly lowered himself over the next projection, and continued giving directions to the men who followed, while I, with the next ledge fallen away, was compelled to let myself drop a distance of about nine feet on to one that seemed far below.

From that point the descent became much easier, although during the two hours it occupied I stumbled and nearly lost my foothold many times. My feet and hands were covered with blood, my elbows were severely grazed, and from my knees the skin was torn by the constant scrambling over the edges of the ledges.

Truly the approach to the Land of the Great White Queen was fraught with a myriad dangers.

When about half-way down the steep rock another piercing shriek broke forth immediately below me, and glancing down I saw one of our black companions who had dropped from one ledge to the next lose his footing, stumble, and fall headlong into the great chasm. Cries of horror escaped us as we saw him strike a rugged ledge of rock far below, rebound, and then fall head foremost to the rock's base, his skull already battered to a pulp.

This terrible lesson was heeded by everyone, and for fully half an hour the silence was almost complete, save for the gasps and hard breathing of our followers as they toiled onward down the steep face of the gigantic rock.

Someone cried out that here, as across the quicksands, there were a thousand steps. If this were true, as I believe it was, then the average distance between the ledges being about five feet, the height of the rock was somewhere about five thousand feet. When progress at last became easier, I tried to attract Omar's attention, and inquire whether we should have to scale the rock opposite, but I could not project my voice far enough below to reach him. When he shouted I could hear, as his voice ascended, but he apparently could not distinguish what I said in reply.

Kona, his bow and empty quiver slung behind him, scrambled down after me ever nimble as a cat. His black skin shone like ebony, but here and there were cuts from which blood freely flowed, showing that he too, although inured to a savage life, had not altogether escaped in this struggle to enter the land unknown.

As we approached the base the ledges became more frequent, and hastening in my downward climb I at last experienced gratification at finding the peril past, and myself standing at the foot of the great precipice.

"Well?" asked Omar, approaching me quickly. "How did you fare?"

"Badly," I answered with a smile. "A dozen times I gave myself up for lost."

"Care and courage may accomplish everything," he said, laughing. "Few, however, would care to risk the perils of the Thousand Steps without a guide, or even if they did, and succeeded in accomplishing the journey to this point, they could not enter our land."

"Why?"

He turned towards the flat, bare face of overhanging rock opposite, and gazing up to its towering summit, answered:

"Because our land lies yonder. We must, after resting, ascend."

"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.

He was signalling to someone on the brow of the precipice!

Open-mouthed I watched the result. The glare of his torch prevented me from distinguishing the crest of the rock distinctly, yet as I looked in the direction he was gazing I presently saw far away on the summit, glittering like a brilliant star, a bright light that seemed in answer to Omar's signals to appear and disappear rapidly, evidently flashing back a reply from the mysterious realm above.

Suddenly the distant light became totally obscured, and from Omar's lips there fell an expression of disappointment. His own fire-brand was burning but dimly, therefore, rushing to the embers, he drew another from the fire, blew upon it violently until it flamed, and then recommenced the puzzling signals, the system of which seemed very similar to those used in the British Army.

Again and again he repeated the long and short waves of the flaming torch, but no answering light appeared. All was dark upon the towering summit, that loomed up black and lonely against the deep vault of dark, star-lit blue. His was a weird figure, standing in the centre of the circle of uncertain light shed by the flambeau, watching eagerly, and waving his signals with untiring energy.

"Fools!" he cried aloud to himself. "They are so fearful of treachery that they feign not to be able to distinguish the name of their ruler."

But ere the words had fallen from his lips the star-like light again shone forth white, with intense brilliancy, but in a different position. It seemed to have moved along the brink of the precipice, nearer to us, and its whiteness had been somehow intensified. In appearance it was very similar to an electric search-light, and so powerful were its rays that they streamed forth in a long line of brilliancy that slowly swept the valley where the corpses of the Arabs lay piled until it reached us, illuminating our camp with a light almost bright as day.

Several minutes elapsed, and Omar, standing in the centre of the light, casting a long grotesque shadow behind, continued waving the word he was so desirous of signalling. In the meantime those who were working the light had undoubtedly ascertained the extent of our numbers, for very soon the light slowly travelled over the adjoining rocks, and even searched the further end of the valley; then suddenly it shed upon us again, and instantly became obscured.

Nothing daunted, Omar continued his signals until at last they were evidently noticed and read, for suddenly the light streamed forth again and commenced a series of vivid flashes that lit up the valley like shafts of lightning.

Thus came the answer, for next second Omar, overjoyed, and unable to contain himself, again cried aloud:

"Seen! Hurrah! At last!"

The signals exchanged between those on the lofty summit of the insurmountable barrier, and my friend Omar were long, and, to me tedious. I could make nothing of them, although it was apparent that my old chum was carrying on an interesting conversation with some person unseen. Once again the light swept across the silent battle-field, showing, as if with justifiable pride, the wholesale slaughter that had been there committed by the defenders, and again fell full upon the son of the dreaded Naya. Then it flashed quickly many times and suddenly disappeared.

Omar seemed at last satisfied, for, holding the brand before him, he took from the tiny bag around his neck a pinch of the magic powder that was included in his jujus, and pronouncing words that conveyed some mystical meaning, slowly let the powder fall into the flickering flame, causing it to hiss and splutter.

He was sacrificing to the fetish for our deliverance from the perils of the Way of the Thousand Steps. Even as he stood performing this pagan rite, there sounded afar off a dull, low boom like the distant report of heavy cannon. It echoed weirdly along the valley where all was quiet and at rest, and was three times repeated, like some ominous voice of warning.

Omar heard it. Surely the noise was an unexpected one, for it instantly filled him with apprehension, and he listened attentively, little dreaming that I also was his companion upon this strange midnight vigil.

CHAPTER XVII

A SALUTE OF BULLETS

The low booming was, however, not repeated, and by this my companion apparently became reassured, for shortly afterwards he threw himself down near me to snatch a few hours' repose before dawn. I suppose I, too, must have slept for some time, until suddenly a noise like thunder that seemed to cause the earth to tremble awakened me, and together with the rest of our party I sprang to my feet, fancying that some terrible earthquake had occurred.

It was still dark, and as each asked breathlessly of his neighbour the cause of the deafening noise a sudden red flash showed for an instant on the summit of the rock near where I had seen the light, and a second report thundered forth, making the valley echo and startling the birds in thousands from their roosting-places.

"We are attacked!" the natives cried. "It is a gun!"

It was a gun undoubtedly. Again it belched forth, its fire causing the earth to tremble, sending some small shots unpleasantly close, and striking terror into the hearts of our companions, who started to fly for safety, expecting each moment that a shower of lead would sweep upon them.

"Stay, cowards!" Omar cried. "Yonder gun fires not with anger, but with joy. It is my welcome home; its fire is but powder play!"