She by H. Rider Haggard
XII
”SHE”
The first care of Job and myself, after seeing to Leo, was to washourselves and put on clean clothing, for what we were wearing had notbeen changed since the loss of the dhow. Fortunately, as I think thatI have said, by far the greater part of our personal baggage had beenpacked into the whaleboat, and was therefore saved--and brought hitherby the bearers--although all the stores laid in by us for barter andpresents to the natives was lost. Nearly all our clothing was made of awell-shrunk and very strong grey flannel, and excellent I found it fortravelling in these places, because though a Norfolk jacket, shirt,and pair of trousers of it only weighed about four pounds, a greatconsideration in a tropical country, where every extra ounce tells onthe wearer, it was warm, and offered a good resistance to the rays ofthe sun, and best of all to chills, which are so apt to result fromsudden changes of temperature.
Never shall I forget the comfort of the ”wash and brush-up,” and ofthose clean flannels. The only thing that was wanting to complete my joywas a cake of soap, of which we had none.
Afterwards I discovered that the Amahagger, who do not reckon dirt amongtheir many disagreeable qualities, use a kind of burnt earth for washingpurposes, which, though unpleasant to the touch till one gets accustomedto it, forms a very fair substitute for soap.
By the time that I was dressed, and had combed and trimmed my blackbeard, the previous condition of which was certainly sufficientlyunkempt to give weight to Billali's appellation for me of ”Baboon,” Ibegan to feel most uncommonly hungry. Therefore I was by no means sorrywhen, without the slightest preparatory sound or warning, the curtainover the entrance to my cave was flung aside, and another mute, ayoung girl this time, announced to me by signs that I could notmisunderstand--that is, by opening her mouth and pointing down it--thatthere was something ready to eat. Accordingly I followed her into thenext chamber, which we had not yet entered, where I found Job, who hadalso, to his great embarrassment, been conducted thither by a fair mute.Job never got over the advances the former lady had made towards him,and suspected every girl who came near to him of similar designs.
”These young parties have a way of looking at one, sir,” he would sayapologetically, ”which I don't call respectable.”
This chamber was twice the size of the sleeping caves, and I saw at oncethat it had originally served as a refectory, and also probably as anembalming room for the Priests of the Dead; for I may as well say atonce that these hollowed-out caves were nothing more nor less than vastcatacombs, in which for tens of ages the mortal remains of the greatextinct race whose monuments surrounded us had been first preserved,with an art and a completeness that has never since been equalled,and then hidden away for all time. On each side of this particularrock-chamber was a long and solid stone table, about three feet wide bythree feet six in height, hewn out of the living rock, of which it hadformed part, and was still attached to at the base. These tables wereslightly hollowed out or curved inward, to give room for the knees ofany one sitting on the stone ledge that had been cut for a bench alongthe side of the cave at a distance of about two feet from them. Each ofthem, also, was so arranged that it ended right under a shaft piercedin the rock for the admission of light and air. On examining themcarefully, however, I saw that there was a difference between them thathad at first escaped my attention, viz. that one of the tables, thatto the left as we entered the cave, had evidently been used, not toeat upon, but for the purposes of embalming. That this was beyond allquestion the case was clear from five shallow depressions in the stoneof the table, all shaped like a human form, with a separate placefor the head to lie in, and a little bridge to support the neck, eachdepression being of a different size, so as to fit bodies varying instature from a full-grown man's to a small child's, and with littleholes bored at intervals to carry off fluid. And, indeed, if any furtherconfirmation was required, we had but to look at the wall of the caveabove to find it. For there, sculptured all round the apartment, andlooking nearly as fresh as the day it was done, was the pictorialrepresentation of the death, embalming, and burial of an old man with along beard, probably an ancient king or grandee of this country.
The first picture represented his death. He was lying upon a couch whichhad four short curved posts at the corners coming to a knob at the end,in appearance something like written notes of music, and was evidentlyin the very act of expiring. Gathered round the couch were women andchildren weeping, the former with their hair hanging down their backs.The next scene represented the embalmment of the body, which lay starkupon a table with depressions in it, similar to the one before us;probably, indeed, it was a picture of the same table. Three men wereemployed at the work--one superintending, one holding a funnel shapedexactly like a port wine strainer, of which the narrow end was fixed inan incision in the breast, no doubt in the great pectoral artery; whilethe third, who was depicted as standing straddle-legged over the corpse,held a kind of large jug high in his hand, and poured from it somesteaming fluid which fell accurately into the funnel. The most curiouspart of this sculpture is that both the man with the funnel and theman who pours the fluid are drawn holding their noses, either I supposebecause of the stench arising from the body, or more probably to keepout the aromatic fumes of the hot fluid which was being forced into thedead man's veins. Another curious thing which I am unable to explain isthat all three men were represented as having a band of linen tied roundthe face with holes in it for the eyes.
The third sculpture was a picture of the burial of the deceased. Therehe was, stiff and cold, clothed in a linen robe, and laid out on a stoneslab such as I had slept upon at our first sojourning-place. At hishead and feet burnt lamps, and by his side were placed several ofthe beautiful painted vases that I have described, which were perhapssupposed to be full of provisions. The little chamber was crowded withmourners, and with musicians playing on an instrument resembling a lyre,while near the foot of the corpse stood a man holding a sheet, withwhich he was preparing to cover it from view.
These sculptures, looked at merely as works of art, were so remarkablethat I make no apology for describing them rather fully. They struckme also as being of surpassing interest as representing, probably withstudious accuracy, the last rites of the dead as practised amongan utterly lost people, and even then I thought how envious someantiquarian friends of my own at Cambridge would be if ever I found anopportunity of describing these wonderful remains to them. Probably theywould say that I was exaggerating, notwithstanding that every page ofthis history must bear so much internal evidence of its truth that itwould obviously have been quite impossible for me to have invented it.
To return. As soon as I had hastily examined these sculptures, whichI think I omitted to mention were executed in relief, we sat down to avery excellent meal of boiled goat's-flesh, fresh milk, and cakes madeof meal, the whole being served upon clean wooden platters.
When we had eaten we returned to see how Leo was getting on, Billalisaying that he must now wait upon _She_, and hear her commands. Onreaching Leo's room we found the poor boy in a very bad way. He had wokeup from his torpor, and was altogether off his head, babbling about someboat-race on the Cam, and was inclined to be violent. Indeed, when weentered the room Ustane was holding him down. I spoke to him, and myvoice seemed to soothe him; at any rate he grew much quieter, and waspersuaded to swallow a dose of quinine.
I had been sitting with him for an hour, perhaps--at any rate I knowthat it was getting so dark that I could only just make out his headlying like a gleam of gold upon the pillow we had extemporised out of abag covered with a blanket--when suddenly Billali arrived with an airof great importance, and informed me that _She_ herself had deigned toexpress a wish to see me--an honour, he added, accorded to but veryfew. I think that he was a little horrified at my cool way of taking thehonour, but the fact was that I did not feel overwhelmed with gratitudeat the prospect of seeing some savage, dusky queen, however absoluteand mysterious she might be, more especially as my mind was full ofdear Leo, for whose life I began to have great fears. However, I rose tofollow him, and as I did so I caught sight of something bright lying onthe floor, which I picked up. Perhaps the reader will remember that withthe potsherd in the casket was a composition scarabæus marked with around O, a goose, and another curious hieroglyphic, the meaning of whichis ”Suten se Ra,” or ”Royal Son of the Sun.” The scarab, which is a verysmall one, Leo had insisted upon having set in a massive gold ring, suchas is generally used for signets, and it was this very ring that I nowpicked up. He had pulled it off in the paroxysm of his fever, at leastI suppose so, and flung it down upon the rock-floor. Thinking that if Ileft it about it might get lost, I slipped it on my own little finger,and then followed Billali, leaving Job and Ustane with Leo.
We passed down the passage, crossed the great aisle-like cave, and cameto the corresponding passage on the other side, at the mouth of whichthe guards stood like two statues. As we came they bowed their heads insalutation, and then lifting their long spears placed them transverselyacross their foreheads, as the leaders of the troop that had met ushad done with their ivory wands. We stepped between them, and foundourselves in an exactly similar gallery to that which led to our ownapartments, only this passage was, comparatively speaking, brilliantlylighted. A few paces down it we were met by four mutes--two men and twowomen--who bowed low and then arranged themselves, the women in frontand the men behind of us, and in this order we continued our processionpast several doorways hung with curtains resembling those leading toour own quarters, and which I afterwards found opened out into chambersoccupied by the mutes who attended on _She_. A few paces more and wecame to another doorway facing us, and not to our left like the others,which seemed to mark the termination of the passage. Here two morewhite-, or rather yellow-robed guards were standing, and they toobowed, saluted, and let us pass through heavy curtains into a greatantechamber, quite forty feet long by as many wide, in which some eightor ten women, most of them young and handsome, with yellowish hair, saton cushions working with ivory needles at what had the appearance ofbeing embroidery frames. These women were also deaf and dumb. At thefarther end of this great lamp-lit apartment was another doorway closedin with heavy Oriental-looking curtains, quite unlike those that hungbefore the doors of our own rooms, and here stood two particularlyhandsome girl mutes, their heads bowed upon their bosoms and their handscrossed in an attitude of humble submission. As we advanced they eachstretched out an arm and drew back the curtains. Thereupon Billali dida curious thing. Down he went, that venerable-looking old gentleman--forBillali is a gentleman at the bottom--down on to his hands and knees,and in this undignified position, with his long white beard trailing onthe ground, he began to creep into the apartment beyond. I followed him,standing on my feet in the usual fashion. Looking over his shoulder heperceived it.
”Down, my son; down, my Baboon; down on to thy hands and knees. We enterthe presence of _She_, and, if thou art not humble, of a surety she willblast thee where thou standest.”
I halted, and felt scared. Indeed, my knees began to give way of theirown mere motion; but reflection came to my aid. I was an Englishman,and why, I asked myself, should I creep into the presence of some savagewoman as though I were a monkey in fact as well as in name? I would notand could not do it, that is, unless I was absolutely sure that my lifeor comfort depended upon it. If once I began to creep upon my knees Ishould always have to do so, and it would be a patent acknowledgment ofinferiority. So, fortified by an insular prejudice against ”kootooing,”which has, like most of our so-called prejudices, a good deal of commonsense to recommend it, I marched in boldly after Billali. I found myselfin another apartment, considerably smaller than the anteroom, of whichthe walls were entirely hung with rich-looking curtains of the same makeas those over the door, the work, as I subsequently discovered, of themutes who sat in the antechamber and wove them in strips, which wereafterwards sewn together. Also, here and there about the room, weresettees of a beautiful black wood of the ebony tribe, inlaid with ivory,and all over the floor were other tapestries, or rather rugs. At the topend of this apartment was what appeared to be a recess, also draped withcurtains, through which shone rays of light. There was nobody in theplace except ourselves.
Painfully and slowly old Billali crept up the length of the cave, andwith the most dignified stride that I could command I followed afterhim. But I felt that it was more or less of a failure. To begin with, itis not possible to look dignified when you are following in the wakeof an old man writhing along on his stomach like a snake, and then,in order to go sufficiently slowly, either I had to keep my leg someseconds in the air at every step, or else to advance with a full stopbetween each stride, like Mary Queen of Scots going to execution in aplay. Billali was not good at crawling, I suppose his years stood in theway, and our progress up that apartment was a very long affair. I wasimmediately behind him, and several times I was sorely tempted to helphim on with a good kick. It is so absurd to advance into the presence ofsavage royalty after the fashion of an Irishman driving a pig to market,for that is what we looked like, and the idea nearly made me burst outlaughing then and there. I had to work off my dangerous tendency tounseemly merriment by blowing my nose, a proceeding which filled oldBillali with horror, for he looked over his shoulder and made a ghastlyface at me, and I heard him murmur, ”Oh, my poor Baboon!”
At last we reached the curtains, and here Billali collapsed flat on tohis stomach, with his hands stretched out before him as though he weredead, and I, not knowing what to do, began to stare about the place. Butpresently I clearly felt that somebody was looking at me from behind thecurtains. I could not see the person, but I could distinctly feel hisor her gaze, and, what is more, it produced a very odd effect upon mynerves. I was frightened, I do not know why. The place was a strangeone, it is true, and looked lonely, notwithstanding its rich hangingsand the soft glow of the lamps--indeed, these accessories added to,rather than detracted from its loneliness, just as a lighted street atnight has always a more solitary appearance than a dark one. It wasso silent in the place, and there lay Billali like one dead before theheavy curtains, through which the odour of perfume seemed to float uptowards the gloom of the arched roof above. Minute grew into minute, andstill there was no sign of life, nor did the curtain move; but I feltthe gaze of the unknown being sinking through and through me, andfilling me with a nameless terror, till the perspiration stood in beadsupon my brow.
At length the curtain began to move. Who could be behind it?--some nakedsavage queen, a languishing Oriental beauty, or a nineteenth-centuryyoung lady, drinking afternoon tea? I had not the slightest idea,and should not have been astonished at seeing any of the three. I wasgetting beyond astonishment. The curtain agitated itself a little, thensuddenly between its folds there appeared a most beautiful white hand(white as snow), and with long tapering fingers, ending in the pinkestnails. The hand grasped the curtain, and drew it aside, and as it did soI heard a voice, I think the softest and yet most silvery voice I everheard. It reminded me of the murmur of a brook.
”Stranger,” said the voice in Arabic, but much purer and more classicalArabic than the Amahagger talk--”stranger, wherefore art thou so muchafraid?”
Now I flattered myself that in spite of my inward terrors I had kepta very fair command of my countenance, and was, therefore, a littleastonished at this question. Before I had made up my mind how to answerit, however, the curtain was drawn, and a tall figure stood before us. Isay a figure, for not only the body, but also the face was wrapped up insoft white, gauzy material in such a way as at first sight to remind memost forcibly of a corpse in its grave-clothes. And yet I do not knowwhy it should have given me that idea, seeing that the wrappings were sothin that one could distinctly see the gleam of the pink flesh beneaththem. I suppose it was owing to the way in which they were arranged,either accidentally, or more probably by design. Anyhow, I felt morefrightened than ever at this ghost-like apparition, and my hair beganto rise upon my head as the feeling crept over me that I was in thepresence of something that was not canny. I could, however, clearlydistinguish that the swathed mummy-like form before me was that of atall and lovely woman, instinct with beauty in every part, and alsowith a certain snake-like grace which I had never seen anything toequal before. When she moved a hand or foot her entire frame seemed toundulate, and the neck did not bend, it curved.
”Why art thou so frightened, stranger?” asked the sweet voice again--avoice which seemed to draw the heart out of me, like the strains ofsoftest music. ”Is there that about me that should affright a man? Thensurely are men changed from what they used to be!” And with a littlecoquettish movement she turned herself, and held up one arm, so asto show all her loveliness and the rich hair of raven blackness thatstreamed in soft ripples down her snowy robes, almost to her sandalledfeet.
”It is thy beauty that makes me fear, oh Queen,” I answered humbly,scarcely knowing what to say, and I thought that as I did so I heard oldBillali, who was still lying prostrate on the floor, mutter, ”Good, myBaboon, good.”
”I see that men still know how to beguile us women with false words. Ah,stranger,” she answered, with a laugh that sounded like distant silverbells, ”thou wast afraid because mine eyes were searching out thineheart, therefore wast thou afraid. Yet being but a woman, I forgive theefor the lie, for it was courteously said. And now tell me how came yehither to this land of the dwellers among the caves--a land of swampsand evil things and dead old shadows of the dead? What came ye for tosee? How is it that ye hold your lives so cheap as to placethem in the hollow of the hand of _Hiya_, into the hand of'_She-who-must-be-obeyed_'? Tell me also how come ye to know the tongueI talk. It is an ancient tongue, that sweet child of the old Syriac.Liveth it yet in the world? Thou seest I dwell among the caves and thedead, and naught know I of the affairs of men, nor have I cared to know.I have lived, O stranger, with my memories, and my memories are in agrave that mine hands hollowed, for truly hath it been said thatthe child of man maketh his own path evil;” and her beautiful voicequivered, and broke in a note as soft as any wood-bird's. Suddenlyher eye fell upon the sprawling frame of Billali, and she seemed torecollect herself.
”Ah! thou art there, old man. Tell me how it is that things have gonewrong in thine household. Forsooth, it seems that these my guests wereset upon. Ay, and one was nigh to being slain by the hot-pot to be eatenof those brutes, thy children, and had not the others fought gallantlythey too had been slain, and not even I could have called back the lifewhich had been loosed from the body. What means it, old man? What hastthou to say that I should not give thee over to those who execute myvengeance?”
Her voice had risen in her anger, and it rang clear and cold against therocky walls. Also I thought I could see her eyes flash through the gauzethat hid them. I saw poor Billali, whom I had believed to be a veryfearless person, positively quiver with terror at her words.
”Oh 'Hiya!' oh _She_!” he said, without lifting his white head from thefloor. ”Oh _She_, as thou art great be merciful, for I am now as everthy servant to obey. It was no plan or fault of mine, oh _She_, it wasthose wicked ones who are called my children. Led on by a woman whom thyguest the Pig had scorned, they would have followed the ancient customof the land, and eaten the fat black stranger who came hither with thesethy guests the Baboon and the Lion who is sick, thinking that no wordhad come from thee about the Black one. But when the Baboon and the Lionsaw what they would do, they slew the woman, and slew also their servantto save him from the horror of the pot. Then those evil ones, ay, thosechildren of the Wicked One who lives in the Pit, they went mad with thelust of blood, and flew at the throats of the Lion and the Baboon andthe Pig. But gallantly they fought. Oh _Hiya_! they fought like verymen, and slew many, and held their own, and then I came and saved them,and the evildoers have I sent on hither to Kôr to be judged of thygreatness, oh _She_! and here they are.”
”Ay, old man, I know it, and to-morrow will I sit in the great hall anddo justice upon them, fear not. And for thee, I forgive thee, thoughhardly. See that thou dost keep thine household better. Go.”
Billali rose upon his knees with astonishing alacrity, bowed his headthrice, and his white beard sweeping the ground, crawled down theapartment as he had crawled up it, till he finally vanished through thecurtains, leaving me, not a little to my alarm, alone with this terriblebut most fascinating person.
”SHE”
The first care of Job and myself, after seeing to Leo, was to washourselves and put on clean clothing, for what we were wearing had notbeen changed since the loss of the dhow. Fortunately, as I think thatI have said, by far the greater part of our personal baggage had beenpacked into the whaleboat, and was therefore saved--and brought hitherby the bearers--although all the stores laid in by us for barter andpresents to the natives was lost. Nearly all our clothing was made of awell-shrunk and very strong grey flannel, and excellent I found it fortravelling in these places, because though a Norfolk jacket, shirt,and pair of trousers of it only weighed about four pounds, a greatconsideration in a tropical country, where every extra ounce tells onthe wearer, it was warm, and offered a good resistance to the rays ofthe sun, and best of all to chills, which are so apt to result fromsudden changes of temperature.
Never shall I forget the comfort of the ”wash and brush-up,” and ofthose clean flannels. The only thing that was wanting to complete my joywas a cake of soap, of which we had none.
Afterwards I discovered that the Amahagger, who do not reckon dirt amongtheir many disagreeable qualities, use a kind of burnt earth for washingpurposes, which, though unpleasant to the touch till one gets accustomedto it, forms a very fair substitute for soap.
By the time that I was dressed, and had combed and trimmed my blackbeard, the previous condition of which was certainly sufficientlyunkempt to give weight to Billali's appellation for me of ”Baboon,” Ibegan to feel most uncommonly hungry. Therefore I was by no means sorrywhen, without the slightest preparatory sound or warning, the curtainover the entrance to my cave was flung aside, and another mute, ayoung girl this time, announced to me by signs that I could notmisunderstand--that is, by opening her mouth and pointing down it--thatthere was something ready to eat. Accordingly I followed her into thenext chamber, which we had not yet entered, where I found Job, who hadalso, to his great embarrassment, been conducted thither by a fair mute.Job never got over the advances the former lady had made towards him,and suspected every girl who came near to him of similar designs.
”These young parties have a way of looking at one, sir,” he would sayapologetically, ”which I don't call respectable.”
This chamber was twice the size of the sleeping caves, and I saw at oncethat it had originally served as a refectory, and also probably as anembalming room for the Priests of the Dead; for I may as well say atonce that these hollowed-out caves were nothing more nor less than vastcatacombs, in which for tens of ages the mortal remains of the greatextinct race whose monuments surrounded us had been first preserved,with an art and a completeness that has never since been equalled,and then hidden away for all time. On each side of this particularrock-chamber was a long and solid stone table, about three feet wide bythree feet six in height, hewn out of the living rock, of which it hadformed part, and was still attached to at the base. These tables wereslightly hollowed out or curved inward, to give room for the knees ofany one sitting on the stone ledge that had been cut for a bench alongthe side of the cave at a distance of about two feet from them. Each ofthem, also, was so arranged that it ended right under a shaft piercedin the rock for the admission of light and air. On examining themcarefully, however, I saw that there was a difference between them thathad at first escaped my attention, viz. that one of the tables, thatto the left as we entered the cave, had evidently been used, not toeat upon, but for the purposes of embalming. That this was beyond allquestion the case was clear from five shallow depressions in the stoneof the table, all shaped like a human form, with a separate placefor the head to lie in, and a little bridge to support the neck, eachdepression being of a different size, so as to fit bodies varying instature from a full-grown man's to a small child's, and with littleholes bored at intervals to carry off fluid. And, indeed, if any furtherconfirmation was required, we had but to look at the wall of the caveabove to find it. For there, sculptured all round the apartment, andlooking nearly as fresh as the day it was done, was the pictorialrepresentation of the death, embalming, and burial of an old man with along beard, probably an ancient king or grandee of this country.
The first picture represented his death. He was lying upon a couch whichhad four short curved posts at the corners coming to a knob at the end,in appearance something like written notes of music, and was evidentlyin the very act of expiring. Gathered round the couch were women andchildren weeping, the former with their hair hanging down their backs.The next scene represented the embalmment of the body, which lay starkupon a table with depressions in it, similar to the one before us;probably, indeed, it was a picture of the same table. Three men wereemployed at the work--one superintending, one holding a funnel shapedexactly like a port wine strainer, of which the narrow end was fixed inan incision in the breast, no doubt in the great pectoral artery; whilethe third, who was depicted as standing straddle-legged over the corpse,held a kind of large jug high in his hand, and poured from it somesteaming fluid which fell accurately into the funnel. The most curiouspart of this sculpture is that both the man with the funnel and theman who pours the fluid are drawn holding their noses, either I supposebecause of the stench arising from the body, or more probably to keepout the aromatic fumes of the hot fluid which was being forced into thedead man's veins. Another curious thing which I am unable to explain isthat all three men were represented as having a band of linen tied roundthe face with holes in it for the eyes.
The third sculpture was a picture of the burial of the deceased. Therehe was, stiff and cold, clothed in a linen robe, and laid out on a stoneslab such as I had slept upon at our first sojourning-place. At hishead and feet burnt lamps, and by his side were placed several ofthe beautiful painted vases that I have described, which were perhapssupposed to be full of provisions. The little chamber was crowded withmourners, and with musicians playing on an instrument resembling a lyre,while near the foot of the corpse stood a man holding a sheet, withwhich he was preparing to cover it from view.
These sculptures, looked at merely as works of art, were so remarkablethat I make no apology for describing them rather fully. They struckme also as being of surpassing interest as representing, probably withstudious accuracy, the last rites of the dead as practised amongan utterly lost people, and even then I thought how envious someantiquarian friends of my own at Cambridge would be if ever I found anopportunity of describing these wonderful remains to them. Probably theywould say that I was exaggerating, notwithstanding that every page ofthis history must bear so much internal evidence of its truth that itwould obviously have been quite impossible for me to have invented it.
To return. As soon as I had hastily examined these sculptures, whichI think I omitted to mention were executed in relief, we sat down to avery excellent meal of boiled goat's-flesh, fresh milk, and cakes madeof meal, the whole being served upon clean wooden platters.
When we had eaten we returned to see how Leo was getting on, Billalisaying that he must now wait upon _She_, and hear her commands. Onreaching Leo's room we found the poor boy in a very bad way. He had wokeup from his torpor, and was altogether off his head, babbling about someboat-race on the Cam, and was inclined to be violent. Indeed, when weentered the room Ustane was holding him down. I spoke to him, and myvoice seemed to soothe him; at any rate he grew much quieter, and waspersuaded to swallow a dose of quinine.
I had been sitting with him for an hour, perhaps--at any rate I knowthat it was getting so dark that I could only just make out his headlying like a gleam of gold upon the pillow we had extemporised out of abag covered with a blanket--when suddenly Billali arrived with an airof great importance, and informed me that _She_ herself had deigned toexpress a wish to see me--an honour, he added, accorded to but veryfew. I think that he was a little horrified at my cool way of taking thehonour, but the fact was that I did not feel overwhelmed with gratitudeat the prospect of seeing some savage, dusky queen, however absoluteand mysterious she might be, more especially as my mind was full ofdear Leo, for whose life I began to have great fears. However, I rose tofollow him, and as I did so I caught sight of something bright lying onthe floor, which I picked up. Perhaps the reader will remember that withthe potsherd in the casket was a composition scarabæus marked with around O, a goose, and another curious hieroglyphic, the meaning of whichis ”Suten se Ra,” or ”Royal Son of the Sun.” The scarab, which is a verysmall one, Leo had insisted upon having set in a massive gold ring, suchas is generally used for signets, and it was this very ring that I nowpicked up. He had pulled it off in the paroxysm of his fever, at leastI suppose so, and flung it down upon the rock-floor. Thinking that if Ileft it about it might get lost, I slipped it on my own little finger,and then followed Billali, leaving Job and Ustane with Leo.
We passed down the passage, crossed the great aisle-like cave, and cameto the corresponding passage on the other side, at the mouth of whichthe guards stood like two statues. As we came they bowed their heads insalutation, and then lifting their long spears placed them transverselyacross their foreheads, as the leaders of the troop that had met ushad done with their ivory wands. We stepped between them, and foundourselves in an exactly similar gallery to that which led to our ownapartments, only this passage was, comparatively speaking, brilliantlylighted. A few paces down it we were met by four mutes--two men and twowomen--who bowed low and then arranged themselves, the women in frontand the men behind of us, and in this order we continued our processionpast several doorways hung with curtains resembling those leading toour own quarters, and which I afterwards found opened out into chambersoccupied by the mutes who attended on _She_. A few paces more and wecame to another doorway facing us, and not to our left like the others,which seemed to mark the termination of the passage. Here two morewhite-, or rather yellow-robed guards were standing, and they toobowed, saluted, and let us pass through heavy curtains into a greatantechamber, quite forty feet long by as many wide, in which some eightor ten women, most of them young and handsome, with yellowish hair, saton cushions working with ivory needles at what had the appearance ofbeing embroidery frames. These women were also deaf and dumb. At thefarther end of this great lamp-lit apartment was another doorway closedin with heavy Oriental-looking curtains, quite unlike those that hungbefore the doors of our own rooms, and here stood two particularlyhandsome girl mutes, their heads bowed upon their bosoms and their handscrossed in an attitude of humble submission. As we advanced they eachstretched out an arm and drew back the curtains. Thereupon Billali dida curious thing. Down he went, that venerable-looking old gentleman--forBillali is a gentleman at the bottom--down on to his hands and knees,and in this undignified position, with his long white beard trailing onthe ground, he began to creep into the apartment beyond. I followed him,standing on my feet in the usual fashion. Looking over his shoulder heperceived it.
”Down, my son; down, my Baboon; down on to thy hands and knees. We enterthe presence of _She_, and, if thou art not humble, of a surety she willblast thee where thou standest.”
I halted, and felt scared. Indeed, my knees began to give way of theirown mere motion; but reflection came to my aid. I was an Englishman,and why, I asked myself, should I creep into the presence of some savagewoman as though I were a monkey in fact as well as in name? I would notand could not do it, that is, unless I was absolutely sure that my lifeor comfort depended upon it. If once I began to creep upon my knees Ishould always have to do so, and it would be a patent acknowledgment ofinferiority. So, fortified by an insular prejudice against ”kootooing,”which has, like most of our so-called prejudices, a good deal of commonsense to recommend it, I marched in boldly after Billali. I found myselfin another apartment, considerably smaller than the anteroom, of whichthe walls were entirely hung with rich-looking curtains of the same makeas those over the door, the work, as I subsequently discovered, of themutes who sat in the antechamber and wove them in strips, which wereafterwards sewn together. Also, here and there about the room, weresettees of a beautiful black wood of the ebony tribe, inlaid with ivory,and all over the floor were other tapestries, or rather rugs. At the topend of this apartment was what appeared to be a recess, also draped withcurtains, through which shone rays of light. There was nobody in theplace except ourselves.
Painfully and slowly old Billali crept up the length of the cave, andwith the most dignified stride that I could command I followed afterhim. But I felt that it was more or less of a failure. To begin with, itis not possible to look dignified when you are following in the wakeof an old man writhing along on his stomach like a snake, and then,in order to go sufficiently slowly, either I had to keep my leg someseconds in the air at every step, or else to advance with a full stopbetween each stride, like Mary Queen of Scots going to execution in aplay. Billali was not good at crawling, I suppose his years stood in theway, and our progress up that apartment was a very long affair. I wasimmediately behind him, and several times I was sorely tempted to helphim on with a good kick. It is so absurd to advance into the presence ofsavage royalty after the fashion of an Irishman driving a pig to market,for that is what we looked like, and the idea nearly made me burst outlaughing then and there. I had to work off my dangerous tendency tounseemly merriment by blowing my nose, a proceeding which filled oldBillali with horror, for he looked over his shoulder and made a ghastlyface at me, and I heard him murmur, ”Oh, my poor Baboon!”
At last we reached the curtains, and here Billali collapsed flat on tohis stomach, with his hands stretched out before him as though he weredead, and I, not knowing what to do, began to stare about the place. Butpresently I clearly felt that somebody was looking at me from behind thecurtains. I could not see the person, but I could distinctly feel hisor her gaze, and, what is more, it produced a very odd effect upon mynerves. I was frightened, I do not know why. The place was a strangeone, it is true, and looked lonely, notwithstanding its rich hangingsand the soft glow of the lamps--indeed, these accessories added to,rather than detracted from its loneliness, just as a lighted street atnight has always a more solitary appearance than a dark one. It wasso silent in the place, and there lay Billali like one dead before theheavy curtains, through which the odour of perfume seemed to float uptowards the gloom of the arched roof above. Minute grew into minute, andstill there was no sign of life, nor did the curtain move; but I feltthe gaze of the unknown being sinking through and through me, andfilling me with a nameless terror, till the perspiration stood in beadsupon my brow.
At length the curtain began to move. Who could be behind it?--some nakedsavage queen, a languishing Oriental beauty, or a nineteenth-centuryyoung lady, drinking afternoon tea? I had not the slightest idea,and should not have been astonished at seeing any of the three. I wasgetting beyond astonishment. The curtain agitated itself a little, thensuddenly between its folds there appeared a most beautiful white hand(white as snow), and with long tapering fingers, ending in the pinkestnails. The hand grasped the curtain, and drew it aside, and as it did soI heard a voice, I think the softest and yet most silvery voice I everheard. It reminded me of the murmur of a brook.
”Stranger,” said the voice in Arabic, but much purer and more classicalArabic than the Amahagger talk--”stranger, wherefore art thou so muchafraid?”
Now I flattered myself that in spite of my inward terrors I had kepta very fair command of my countenance, and was, therefore, a littleastonished at this question. Before I had made up my mind how to answerit, however, the curtain was drawn, and a tall figure stood before us. Isay a figure, for not only the body, but also the face was wrapped up insoft white, gauzy material in such a way as at first sight to remind memost forcibly of a corpse in its grave-clothes. And yet I do not knowwhy it should have given me that idea, seeing that the wrappings were sothin that one could distinctly see the gleam of the pink flesh beneaththem. I suppose it was owing to the way in which they were arranged,either accidentally, or more probably by design. Anyhow, I felt morefrightened than ever at this ghost-like apparition, and my hair beganto rise upon my head as the feeling crept over me that I was in thepresence of something that was not canny. I could, however, clearlydistinguish that the swathed mummy-like form before me was that of atall and lovely woman, instinct with beauty in every part, and alsowith a certain snake-like grace which I had never seen anything toequal before. When she moved a hand or foot her entire frame seemed toundulate, and the neck did not bend, it curved.
”Why art thou so frightened, stranger?” asked the sweet voice again--avoice which seemed to draw the heart out of me, like the strains ofsoftest music. ”Is there that about me that should affright a man? Thensurely are men changed from what they used to be!” And with a littlecoquettish movement she turned herself, and held up one arm, so asto show all her loveliness and the rich hair of raven blackness thatstreamed in soft ripples down her snowy robes, almost to her sandalledfeet.
”It is thy beauty that makes me fear, oh Queen,” I answered humbly,scarcely knowing what to say, and I thought that as I did so I heard oldBillali, who was still lying prostrate on the floor, mutter, ”Good, myBaboon, good.”
”I see that men still know how to beguile us women with false words. Ah,stranger,” she answered, with a laugh that sounded like distant silverbells, ”thou wast afraid because mine eyes were searching out thineheart, therefore wast thou afraid. Yet being but a woman, I forgive theefor the lie, for it was courteously said. And now tell me how came yehither to this land of the dwellers among the caves--a land of swampsand evil things and dead old shadows of the dead? What came ye for tosee? How is it that ye hold your lives so cheap as to placethem in the hollow of the hand of _Hiya_, into the hand of'_She-who-must-be-obeyed_'? Tell me also how come ye to know the tongueI talk. It is an ancient tongue, that sweet child of the old Syriac.Liveth it yet in the world? Thou seest I dwell among the caves and thedead, and naught know I of the affairs of men, nor have I cared to know.I have lived, O stranger, with my memories, and my memories are in agrave that mine hands hollowed, for truly hath it been said thatthe child of man maketh his own path evil;” and her beautiful voicequivered, and broke in a note as soft as any wood-bird's. Suddenlyher eye fell upon the sprawling frame of Billali, and she seemed torecollect herself.
”Ah! thou art there, old man. Tell me how it is that things have gonewrong in thine household. Forsooth, it seems that these my guests wereset upon. Ay, and one was nigh to being slain by the hot-pot to be eatenof those brutes, thy children, and had not the others fought gallantlythey too had been slain, and not even I could have called back the lifewhich had been loosed from the body. What means it, old man? What hastthou to say that I should not give thee over to those who execute myvengeance?”
Her voice had risen in her anger, and it rang clear and cold against therocky walls. Also I thought I could see her eyes flash through the gauzethat hid them. I saw poor Billali, whom I had believed to be a veryfearless person, positively quiver with terror at her words.
”Oh 'Hiya!' oh _She_!” he said, without lifting his white head from thefloor. ”Oh _She_, as thou art great be merciful, for I am now as everthy servant to obey. It was no plan or fault of mine, oh _She_, it wasthose wicked ones who are called my children. Led on by a woman whom thyguest the Pig had scorned, they would have followed the ancient customof the land, and eaten the fat black stranger who came hither with thesethy guests the Baboon and the Lion who is sick, thinking that no wordhad come from thee about the Black one. But when the Baboon and the Lionsaw what they would do, they slew the woman, and slew also their servantto save him from the horror of the pot. Then those evil ones, ay, thosechildren of the Wicked One who lives in the Pit, they went mad with thelust of blood, and flew at the throats of the Lion and the Baboon andthe Pig. But gallantly they fought. Oh _Hiya_! they fought like verymen, and slew many, and held their own, and then I came and saved them,and the evildoers have I sent on hither to Kôr to be judged of thygreatness, oh _She_! and here they are.”
”Ay, old man, I know it, and to-morrow will I sit in the great hall anddo justice upon them, fear not. And for thee, I forgive thee, thoughhardly. See that thou dost keep thine household better. Go.”
Billali rose upon his knees with astonishing alacrity, bowed his headthrice, and his white beard sweeping the ground, crawled down theapartment as he had crawled up it, till he finally vanished through thecurtains, leaving me, not a little to my alarm, alone with this terriblebut most fascinating person.