Prisoners of Chance

by Randall Parrish

  CHAPTER XXXII

  CHIEF PRIEST OF THE SUN

  The rock shelf we followed became gradually somewhat wider, so I movedforward with greater freedom. The path continued to ascend, windingunevenly along the precipitous face of the cliff, until we must haveclimbed nearly to the summit of the mighty bluff. But the overhangingcrest rendered it impossible for us to do more than guess thesituation. We were but ants clinging to a wall and unable to see morethan a few yards ahead. Finally we attained a point where the cliffbulged outward in a wide curve, not unlike the rounded bow of a ship,and were compelled to move with renewed caution along the narrowedshelf, which was seemingly unsupported. Creeping fearfully forward onhands and knees around the sharp corner I found myself before theyawning entrance to a cavern. I realized that here was the ending ofour toilsome climb, for I could see nothing beyond, excepting aprecipitous wall of stone. If the path had continuation, it must passthrough the cave.

  "Yonder yawns a gloomy-looking hole, Master Benteen," muttered thePuritan, lying at full length beside me, and staring ahead. "Yet myeyes see no sign of life to alarm us."

  "The front is unguarded surely," I admitted gravely, "but do not feelconfident that there are no occupants within. If I mistake not, wehave stumbled upon the very spot whence the priests signal down to thevalley the rising and setting of the sun."

  "I never witnessed such ceremony, yet to my mind it would be farpleasanter going forward than lying here on the hard rock."

  Realizing the truth of his comment, yet muttering over my shoulder aword of caution, I began crawling forward into the interior. No signof human presence appeared, and I ventured to stand upright. Thecavern possessed a wide opening, with a broad platform of rockextending well out beyond the face of the cliff. Along the edge Icould observe the rather dim outlines of an immense altar, built ofdetached stones, rising to a considerable height, and partiallyblocking the entrance. From below it might serve to conceal the mouthof the cave. This obstruction shut off much of the moon's light,rendering the interior intensely dark. We were compelled to grope ourway forward with hands pressed against the walls. I had not advancedmore than thirty feet, my every nerve tingling, when I saw the ruddyreflection of a fire, hitherto completely concealed by a sharp turn inthe tunnel. Rounding this abrupt point we found ourselves in a largeroom capable of containing upwards of three hundred persons. Thischamber was partly natural in formation, but, as I discovered later,had been considerably enlarged by artificial means. So high was itthat, in the dim light, I could scarcely distinguish its vaulted roof,while its length was hidden in the darkness. In the very centre ofthis apartment arose a great pile of irregular rock, flattened andhollowed along the top, where was burning a vast log, the smokeascending straight upward, evidently finding outlet above. The light,red and yellow, flared and flickered upon the surrounding bare graywalls, nothing else arresting the eye except a second wide rockplatform close to where we crouched. This was partially concealed by agreat mat of coarsely woven scarlet cloth, which brought to me aconjecture that here, perhaps, the Queen was throned.

  Wherever there was fire burning there must, of necessity, be attendantsto feed the flame, but I could detect no sign of life, no sign of anykind, other than the crackling of the blazing log, and the heavybreathing of my companion. The silence oppressed me.

  "Go to the right," I advised at last, nervous from inaction, "I willtry the left, until we meet again. Keep close against the wall, andmove with care."

  "'Tis not wholly unlike a visit to hell," he muttered gloomily, "but Iam weary of lying shivering here."

  I watched the fellow creep forward on his knees, his brillianthead-covering revealed in the glare like a flame. Then I took up myown part of this work of exploration. I had compassed half my distanceamid profound stillness, perceiving nothing strange, and constantlyfeeling more intensely the solemn loneliness of the place, which bynow, to my awakened imagination, appeared peopled with bloodlessvictims of heathen superstition. I felt no doubt this was a torturechamber; that many a hapless slave, or shrieking captive, had yieldedup life in agony upon the summit of the gloomy pile, and the hauntingspectres seemed to grin at me with distorted faces from every crevicealong the walls. I was weakly yielding to such weird dreams, when awild, shrill scream rang forth from the darkness in front. The crycontained such note of affright that, for an instant, I connected itwith the fantasies which thronged my brain. I stood still, rooted tothe spot, the blood curdling in my veins, my eyes straining in vaineffort to pierce the darkness. Then there arose a roar not unlike thatof an angry lion; the sound of a fierce struggle; the dull thud of ablow, and Cairnes's deep voice boomed forth.

  "Ye black-faced villain! 'T is the strength of the righteous you havefelt this day. Blessed be the name of the Lord, who hath given me thevictory! Lie there in your sins, and no longer affront your Maker."

  I sprang eagerly forward, but at my first step came into contact with afleeing figure, which rounded the end of the altar in such blind terroras nearly to hurl me from my feet. I grasped at the floating robe, butmissed, and the next instant was rushing blindly after the fellow downthe dark passage toward where the moonlight silvered the outer rocks.Fright gave him wings, but desperate determination lightened my feet,and I was nearly upon him when the fleeing man rounded the great rock.One instant he paused, glancing behind. What he saw, or imagined hesaw, I have no means of knowing; perchance some shrieking victim of hisfoul rites risen from the dead. With one wild, echoing cry, which rangin my ears like the scream of a lost soul, he gave a mad leap out intothe air, and went plunging down to the jagged rocks at the base. Sickand pulseless I drew back. Trembling in every limb, even in thesilence which followed I could detect no sound of his body as it struckthe earth. I crept to the edge, lying prone upon my face, and lookedover. The moonlight ended a hundred feet beneath me; beyond its linethere was nothing but a black void. There could be no question as towhat had occurred--the man was dead. I made my way back into the caveseeking to discover what had befallen the Puritan. I found him at thefarther extremity of the great altar, calmly enjoying a quantity ofcold meat he had discovered. He was squatting upon the floor, in closeproximity to the motionless, extended figure of a savage arrayed in theblack garments of the priesthood. They formed a picture so startlinglygrotesque I could but stare in amazement.

  "Jerked venison," he explained, glowering up at me, as I came into thefirelight. "'T is of a peculiar flavor not altogether to my taste, yetnot a food to be despised in the wilderness. Did you lay hands uponthe heathen who fled?"

  "No, he escaped me, but only to leap over the outer rock. He lies deadbelow. Have you slain this man?"

  He turned the huddled up body over contemptuously with his foot, and Iperceived the wrinkled countenance of an aged man, the eyes bright, thethick hair on his head long and nearly white. The face, thin andemaciated, was so sinister I involuntarily drew back.

  "A snake is not so easily killed," he answered in indifference. "Istruck but once, and not very hard as I rank blows, yet the fellow hasnot stirred since. 'T is well for him to remain quiet until I finishthis repast, for I am of a merciful disposition when my carnalrequirements are properly ministered unto. Faith, had my eyes notfallen on the food I might have got both the fellows."

  Paying slight heed to his gossip I bent over the priest, rubbing hislimbs until the blood began to circulate. Before the testy sectary hadended his munching, the old savage was sitting up, his back proppedagainst a rock, the firelight playing over his wrinkled face, as hegazed at us, yet dazed and frightened. This was one whom I had neverbefore seen; there was something of distinction about him, both asregards face and costume, which instantly convinced me he held highrank in the tribe--no doubt the chief priest. His sharp, black,malicious eyes wandered unsteadily from the Puritan to myself, as if hesought to regain his scattered senses. Finally he ventured a singleword of inquiry:

  "_Francais_?"

  "No," I ans
wered shortly, speaking deliberately in French, hopeful hemight know something of the tongue. "We are not of that people, yet Ispeak the language."

  "I glad you not _Francais_," he said brokenly, yet intelligibly, histone gruff, his accent guttural; "but I talk you some in that tongue."

  "How come you to speak French?"

  His lean face hardened. As he bent forward, his fingers clinchedconvulsively. At first I thought he would not answer.

  "'T was much time since I learn; when I was young man," he answeredslowly, recalling the unfamiliar words. "Then no snow in hair, no lamein leg, and my people dwell beside the great river toward thesun-rising. We were a great nation, with slaves to work our land,warriors to fight our battles, and priests to make sacrifice. Then wehad much of treasure from our fathers." He bowed his head, mumblingindistinctly; then continued, as if talking to himself, after thefashion of the aged: "Long time before that there came to our villagemen in canoes, floating down the great river out of the north. Theywere of white face, and wore shining things on their bodies and heads,and bore in their hands that which spouted fire and death. This wasbefore I was born, yet I was told it often of my fathers. My peoplebelieved them children of the Sun, because of their white faces andlight hair; they were made welcome, taken into the house of the altar,fed, warmed, and loved. I know not who they were, or whence they came,yet they spoke this tongue, did point at themselves and say'_Francais_,' and told of a mighty King away off, and worshipped beforea cross-piece of wood. My people knew not what to make of them; yetthey were not afraid, and treated the strangers with kindness, andthere was no war between them. He who seemed their leader had one hardhand of metal, and they named him 'Tonty.' Know you such a man of yourcolor?"

  "No," I answered, already deeply interested in his simple story. "Thatwas all before my time, nor do I even remember hearing the name tillnow, yet there were Frenchmen upon the great river full a hundred yearsago, I have been told. 'Twas most likely they who came to your people.Did they do harm to your fathers?"

  "They passed away in peace," he continued, using the language withgreater ease as he proceeded, "for we were then strong, and of couragein battle; the fire bright on our altars. Nor did we look again uponany white face for so long a time that this visit became no more than atradition among the people. More and more did the fathers believe thisTonty was a visitant from the Sun--many there were who worshipped himas a god. When he left he said he would come again, and with everysunrise the eyes of my people were turned in watching up the river.Then, when I was but a child, there came to our village canoes frombelow, from the way of the salt water. They did land, unmolested ofour people, who supposed Tonty had come back; fair-faced men withyellow hair and beards and dressed in shining metal from head to heel.I was at the shore with the others when they came, and heard them speakin this tongue, and call themselves _Francais_. Others of that racefollowed, and we welcomed and fed them all, even as our fathers haddone to Tonty. Some were warriors with swords, and fire-sticks, butwith these were also some strange, black-robed men, who sought to tellus of another God, greater than the Sun our fathers worshipped. Theyhad pictures, and crosses of wood, and prayed to these as we to theSun. But we believed not in their God, and tried to drive them awayfrom our village when they put out our fires, for they made muchtrouble among our people, so that the priests came to hate them--theblack-robes. Some among them went, but one would not go, and so wemade offering of him in sacrifice to the Sun. Then we thought we wererid of the black-robes, and could again live as we had been taught ofour fathers."

  He stopped speaking, his head bent low on his breast, his eyes on thealtar name. I waited without a word.

  "But they were of strong heart," he went on at last, never looking atme, "and returned again, until finally war arose between my people andthese white-faced _Francais_. Many came up the great river from thesalt water in big boats, and drove us forth from our village, the homeof our fathers, and gave it up to fire, after killing many warriors.We could not fight against their fire-sticks, yet we saved much that wevalued, and wandered far toward the sunset, bearing along with us thebodies of our chiefs, and the sacred fire from our altar. The_Francais_ lost us in the wilderness. We came to a little river whichflowed down to greet us from out the sunset. Here we stopped oncemore, built our village, erecting about it a great wall of earth suchas our fathers did in those days when we were strong and mighty. Wedwelt there in peace for three seasons of sun and cold, having littletrouble with those tribes that roamed about us, until one day therecame into our new village another _Francais_, a black-robe. How he gotthere I know not, but we laid hands upon him,--remembering thepast,--bound him before our altar-house, and made of him a sacrificeunto our god, the Sun. Yet it was not well. Even that very night,while we worshipped before the fire which had consumed him, there cameupon us many _Francais_ out from the dark woods, with fire-sticks andsharp knives, so that only few of our people escaped, and got away tothe north. I was one, bearing ever with me the sacred fire, which Iwas sworn to guard. We travelled across many rivers, suffering muchfrom want, until those who lived wandered to this place, and here setup once more our fathers' ancient altars. 'T was thus I learned thewords of the tongue, this accursed _Francais_, and learned also to hatethose with white faces and black hearts who speak it."

  His voice ceased, and his chin sank wearily upon his breast. My earcaught the heavy breathing of Cairnes, and I turned to mark him lyingat full length upon the stone floor sound asleep. Admiring hisindifference to surroundings, I was yet so deeply engrossed in thistale of the old priest as to be myself insensible of fatigue.

  "You are indeed of an old race," I said, hoping to make him talkfurther, "if the traditions of your people extend to those firstFrenchmen who came floating south along the great river."

  The old eyes, now scanning my face, gleamed with awakened pride.

  "'T is no more than a page out of our history I have related," heexclaimed hastily, evidently aroused by my interest. "We are theoldest and greatest people of the earth. Ay, more; we are children ofthe Sun, and, ages ago, when our fathers were true to their faith andtheir God, there were none who could contend against us. We had ourgreat altars on every hilltop, and our villages were in every valley.Our kings ruled from far above the great fresh water down to where thesalt sea kisses the white sand; our slaves toiled in the fields toproduce us food, and in the rocks to give us store of metal for thechase and war. It was then the Sun shone warm upon his children, andthere were none among men who dared to face our warriors in battle. Wewere masters of all the land we trod; we feared no people, for we wereblessed of the Sun."

  "How came the end?"

  "It was a curse upon us--curse because we made mock of the Sun. Thesacred fire died out on our altars, while recreant priests slept, andso there came upon the nation a breath of pestilence from the sky whichswept away the people as if by fire. It has been told to me that ourdead lay everywhere; that whole villages were destroyed in a singlenight; that those who survived wandered in the woods foodless, untilonly a pitiful remnant of those who were once so powerful lived in thattainted air, poisoned by decaying bodies. Then the surviving slavesbanded themselves together, fell upon their wandering masters, drivingand killing, until the few who were left drew together on the banks ofthe great river. Here, by lighting the sacred fire again, they madepeace and were saved. It was there I was born."

  I fail utterly to picture the true solemnity of the scene, as the agedpriest, white-haired and evil-eyed, slowly mumbled it forth in hisbroken, halting French, leaning with his back against the rough stonesof the great altar, on the summit of which flamed the sacred fire hehad passed his life in guarding. 'T was like a voice speaking from aforgotten past, which looked forth from sunken eyes, and became visiblein snow-white hair. A grave yawned to give me a glimpse of all whichthat grave contained--the hopes, the struggles, the death of a oncepowerful tribe. Yet it all stands forth perfectly clear to my memorya
s I write--the vast black chamber lying in shadow and flame; the darkfigure of the bulky Puritan outstretched upon the stones at our feet;the ghastly, corpse-like face of the savage old priest, whose eyesgleamed so fiercely, as he dreamed once again of the vanished gloriesof his race.

  "But the woman who now rules over you?" I questioned, waiting vainlyfor him to resume. "Is she not white?"

  He did not answer; apparently he did not hear.

  "I ask regarding Queen Naladi--is she also of your people?"

  "We are alike children of the Sun," he responded, his tone more sullen."She is of the Sun and was sent to rule; sent by the Sun to lead usonce again unto our own."

  "She told you this?"

  "We know it by signs, by the prophecy of our fathers; we were longlooking for her coming; she was promised us by the Sun. In the hour ofdeepest need, a woman fair of face with hair of reddish gold, a goddessin earthly form, was to be sent to guide us. She came out of themystery, and we wait her will."

  "Then she is not of your race?"

  "I have answered--she came to our people from the Sun."

  I have not often felt too secure while in any position of danger, butthis feeble old savage rested so helplessly back against the base ofthe altar, I lost all thought of him as an enemy against whom I neededto guard. Sunk in contemplation of his story, I sat carelessly, myhead somewhat lowered as I mentally viewed the picture drawn. Cairnesmoved uneasily in his sleep, muttering something indistinctly, and Iturned partially so that I might look at him. Instantly, with the leapof a tiger, the priest hurled himself upon me. I flung up one arm,barely in time to intercept a jagged stone aimed full at my head. Aswe clinched and went down, the incarnate fiend buried his yellow teethin my hand, and, in spite of his weight of years, I found myself hardpressed in a death struggle. A very demon seemed to possess him; hisgrip was satanic in its hate. In truth it was Cairnes who seized himby the throat, dragging him off me. He struggled insanely against thetwo of us, until we bound him so securely that nothing except his eyescould move.