<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
<h3>TO THE UNKNOWN.</h3>
<p><span class="smcap">When</span>, with elaborate genuflections and vows of allegiance,
the governors of the six principal provinces of
the mystic Kingdom had taken leave of Omar, we remained
in consultation with the old sage for upwards of
another hour. He told us many horrible stories of the
Naya's fierce and unrelenting cruelty. It seemed as
though during the later years of her reign she had been
seized by an insane desire to cause just as much misery
and suffering as her predecessors on the Emerald Throne
had promoted prosperity and happiness. In every particular
her temperament was exactly opposite to the
first Naya, the good queen whose memory had, through
a thousand years, been revered as that of a goddess.</p>
<p>Goliba explained how, during the past three years, the
Great White Queen had suddenly become highly superstitious.
This was not surprising, for as far as I could
gather the people of Mo had no religion as we understand
the term, but their minds were nevertheless filled
with ideas relating to supernatural objects, by which they
sought to explain the phenomena about them of which
the causes were not immediately obvious. He told us
that the Naya, preying upon the superstitions of the<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/163.png">163</SPAN>]</span>
people, had recently introduced into the country, entirely
against the advice of himself and his fellow-councillors,
a number of customs, all of which were apparently
devised to cause death. He told us that if a great man
died his friends never now remained content with the
explanation that he died from natural causes. Their
minds flew at once to witchcraft. Some one had cast
an evil spell upon him, and it was the duty of the friends
of the dead man to discover who it was that had had
dealings with the powers of darkness. Suspicion fell
upon a certain member of the tribe, generally a relative
of the deceased, and that suspicion could only be verified
by putting the accused to the test of some dreadful
ordeal. A favourite ordeal, he said, was to make the
suspected person drink a large quantity—a gallon and a
half, or more—of a decoction of a bitter and slightly
poisonous bark. If vomiting occurred, then a verdict
of guilty was passed upon the unfortunate wretch, and
no protestations, or even direct proof of his innocence,
could save him from the tortures in store for him. The
victim was condemned to death, and death was inflicted
not swiftly and mercifully, but nearly always with some
accompaniment of diabolical torture.</p>
<p>One method was to hack the body of the wretched
person to pieces with knives, the most odious mutilations
being resorted to. Occasionally the unfortunate creature
was tied to a stake while pepper was rubbed into his
eyes until the fearful irritation so produced caused blindness.
Or, again, the victim was tied hand and foot upon
an ant-hill, and left to the agonies of being consumed
slowly by the minute aggressors. The most satisfactory
death, perhaps, was that when the condemned man was
allowed to be his own executioner. He was made much<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/164.png">164</SPAN>]</span>
of for an hour or so before the final scene, and was well
fed and primed with palm wine. Under the excitement
of this mild stimulant he mounted a tree, carrying in his
hand a long rope formed of a kind of stringy vine of
tough texture. One end of this rope he fastened to a
bough, and the other he placed in a running knot over
his neck. Then, quite pleased at being the centre of
observation of the multitude, even on such a gruesome
occasion, the criminal harangued his tribesmen in a great
speech, finally declared the justice of his sentence, and
leaped into space. Should the rope break, as occasionally
happened, then the zeal of the executioner
overcame the fear of death of the victim, for he mounted
the tree nimbly once more, readjusted the knots, and did
his best in the second attempt to avoid the risk of
another fiasco.</p>
<p>"And have such pagan customs actually been introduced
during my absence in England?" asked Omar
astonished.</p>
<p>"They have, alas! O Prince," answered the sage.
"The people, taught from childhood to respect every
word that falleth from the lips of our Great White
Queen, adopted these revolting customs, together with
certain other dreadful rites, believing that only by obeying
her injunctions can they escape the wrath of the
Crocodile-god. As rapidly as fire spreadeth in the forest
the customs were adopted in every part of the kingdom,
until now the practices I have briefly enumerated are
universal."</p>
<p>"But surely my mother could never have devised such
horrible suffering out of sheer ill-will towards our
people?"</p>
<p>"Alas! she hath," answered the old man. "If thou<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/165.png">165</SPAN>]</span>
believest not my words, take each of you one of the
cloaks hanging yonder, wrap the Arab haicks around
your heads and follow me. Make no sign that ye are
strangers, and ye shall witness strange sights amazing."</p>
<p>We all three arose, and quickly arraying ourselves in
white cotton burnouses, wrapping the haicks around our
heads in the manner of the Arabs—a fashion adopted by
some in the City in the Clouds—and pulling them across
our faces, so as to partially conceal our features, we went
forth with our guide on the tiptoe of expectation.</p>
<p>"What sight, I wonder, are we going to witness?" I
whispered in English to Omar, as we walked together
along one of the narrow streets in the deep shadow so
that we might not be detected.</p>
<p>"I know not," my friend answered, with a heavy sigh.
"If what Goliba says is true, and I fear it is, then our
land is doomed."</p>
<p>"The power of the cruel Naya must be broken, and
you must reign and bring back to Mo her departing
prosperity and happiness," I said.</p>
<p>"I'll do my best, Scarsmere," he answered. "You
have been a true, fearless friend all along, and I feel
that you will continue until the end."</p>
<p>"Till the end!" I echoed. "The end will be peace,
either in life—or death."</p>
<p>"While I have breath I will fight to preserve the
traditions of the Nabas and the Nayas who, while ruling
their country, gave such satisfaction to the people that
never once has there been a rebellion nor scarcely a voice
raised in dissent. It has always been the policy of the
Sanoms to give audience to any discontented person,
listen to their grievances, and endeavour to redress them.
The reign of the Naya is, according to all we hear, one<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/166.png">166</SPAN>]</span>
of terror and oppression. The poor are ground down
to swell the wealth of the rich, and no man's life is safe
from one moment to another. It shall be changed, and
I, Omar, will fulfil the duty expected of me."</p>
<p>"Well spoken, old fellow," I answered, enthusiastically.
"Remember Goliba's warning regarding the attempts that
may be made to assassinate you, and always carry your
revolver loaded. When the Naya hears that you have
defied her she will be as merciless as she was to poor
old Babila."</p>
<p>"Ah! Babila," Omar sighed. "He was one of the
best and most trusted servants Mo ever had. Having
been one of my dead father's personal attendants he
was faithful to our family, and altogether the last man
whose head should have fallen in disgrace under Gankoma's
sword."</p>
<p>"If the punishment she inflicted upon him was so severe
for such a paltry offence, that which she will seek to
bring upon you will be equally terrible," I observed.
"Therefore act always with caution, and take heed never
to be entrapped by her paid assassins."</p>
<p>"Don't fear, Scarsmere," he laughed. "I'm safe
enough, and I do not anticipate that anybody will try
and take my life. If they do they'll find I can shoot
straighter than they imagined."</p>
<p>"But they might shoot first," I suggested with a smile.</p>
<p>"I don't intend to give them a chance," he replied.
"We must not fear defeat, but anticipate success. I
have made offering to the fetish, and although the
struggle must be fierce and unrelenting I am determined
to strike a blow for my country's freedom."</p>
<p>At this juncture Goliba joined us, and urging me not
to speak in English lest the strange language might be<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/167.png">167</SPAN>]</span>
overheard, we walked together for about three-quarters
of an hour through thoroughfares so wide and well built
that they would have been termed magnificent if constructed
in any European city. Then we crossed a
large square where a great fountain shooting up a hundred
feet fell into its bowl, green with water-plants and
white with flowers, and afterwards traversed a maze of
narrower streets, now silent and deserted, where dwelt
the workmen.</p>
<p>Suddenly Goliba halted before an arched door, and
directing us to imitate him, knelt and touched the door-step
with his forehead, then passed in. We followed
into a place that was strange to even Omar himself, who
was scarce able to suppress an exclamation of astonishment.
It was a small chamber, lit by a single flickering
oil lamp of similar shape to those so often found amid the
traces of the Roman occupation of England, while around
were stone benches built into the wall. Walking to the
opposite side of the narrow, prison-like place, we saw
before us an arch with an impenetrable blackness beyond.
Before this arch stood a kind of frame made of
iron resting on either side upon steel ropes raised
slightly from the ground. Following Goliba's example,
we got upon it, crouching in a kneeling position in the
same manner as himself.</p>
<p>"Thou wilt find handles, wherewith to steady thyself,"
he cried to me. "Have a care that thou art not thrown
off."</p>
<p>I groped with my companions, and we found the
handles of which he had spoken. Then, when all was
ready, the grave-faced sage raised some lever or another,
and we shot away down, down, down into space with such
fearful velocity that the wind whistled about our ears,<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/168.png">168</SPAN>]</span>
our white robes fluttered, and our breath seemed taken
away.</p>
<p>The sensation was awful. In utter darkness we were
whirled along we knew not whither, until suddenly the
car whereon we travelled gave an unexpected lurch, as
a corner was turned, nearly precipitating all of us into
the darkness beneath, and then continued its downward
course with increased speed, until sparks flew from
beneath us like flecks of fire from a blacksmith's forge,
and in our breasts was a tightness that became more
painful every moment.</p>
<p>It seemed as though we were descending to some
deep, airless region, for I could not breathe; the atmosphere
felt damp and warm, and the velocity with which
we travelled was becoming greater the deeper into the
heart of the earth we went.</p>
<p>"What is this place?" I heard Omar ask. "I know it
not."</p>
<p>"Be patient, O Prince, and thou shalt witness that
which must astound thee," old Goliba shouted, his
squeaky voice being just audible above the loud hissing
as our car flew along the twisted strands of steel.</p>
<p>Suddenly, above the hiss of our rapid progress, there
could be heard strange noises, as if a hundred war-drums
were being beaten, and at the same instant our
curious conveyance gave another sudden lurch in rounding
a corner. At that moment Goliba, in turning to
speak with Omar, had unfortunately loosened his hold of
one of the handles, and the sudden jolt at such a high
speed was so violent that our faithful guide and friend
was shot off backwards, and ere Omar could clutch him
he had disappeared with a shriek of despair into the
cavernous darkness.</p>
<p><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/169.png">169</SPAN>]</span>
A thrill of horror ran through us when we realised
this terrible mishap. Yet nothing could arrest our swift
headlong descent, and feeling convinced that Goliba,
our host and adviser, had met with a terrible death, we
sat staring, motionless, wondering whither we were
bound, and how, now we had lost our guide, we should
be able to reach the surface again. At the moment
Goliba had been flung off we remembered that the iron
frame had jolted and grated, and there seemed no room
for doubt that the generous sage had been mangled into
a shapeless mass. The thought was horrible.</p>
<p>At last, however, we felt the air becoming fresher,
and the strange contraction in our breasts was gradually
relieved as our pace became less rapid, and distant
lights showed before us. Then suddenly we emerged
from the curious shaft down which we had travelled to
such enormous depth, gliding slowly out into a place of
immeasurable extent, where a most extraordinary and
amazing scene met our gaze.</p>
<p>Truly, poor Goliba had spoken the truth when he had
promised that what we should witness would astound us.</p>
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