The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE ROYAL JUJUS.

  ON the fifth day after we had left our canoes the Grand Vizier of Mo hadgone far forward along the line of carriers to speak with the head-man,and Omar was walking immediately before me at the rear of theprocession.

  As I pulled him by the sleeve he halted, and when the last carrier hadgot out of hearing I confided to my friend my misgivings.

  "Have you not noticed of late a change in Kouaga's manner towards us?" Iasked him. "At first he was deferential and submissive to your everywish, but it occurs to me that of late his manner is overbearing, and hewatches us closely, as if fearing we might escape."

  "Curiously enough," my friend replied, "I have for some days past hadsimilar thoughts. If he's playing any double game his life won't be wortha moment's purchase when once we enter our own land."

  "But you had perfect confidence in him," I observed.

  "Yes. If my mother trusts him as her chief adviser I have no right toentertain any suspicion of his fidelity," he said.

  "True, but, after all, you are the Prince and heir. Surely he ought tohave followed your desire as to the route we should take."

  "The route!" he cried. "Since we left the river we have travelled inthese cross-paths in such an amazing manner that at present I have noidea where we are."

  "The carriers have, or they would not be in such high spirits," Iobserved.

  "Yes, but the strangest part of the affair is that every man among themfears to tell us anything. I have secretly questioned most of them as toKouaga's motive, and all I can glean is that the fetish-man at Tombouragathered them together and, after performing some of the usual rites andsacrificing to our Crocodile-god Zomara, told them if a word were spokento us regarding our route or destination the dread god will meet us inthe forest path and devour all of us. Not one shall survive."

  "And you believe this pagan humbug?" I exclaimed, in disgust.

  He opened his dark eyes wide, regarding me in astonishment. I had neverbefore ridiculed his religion.

  "The jujus around my neck preserve me from every evil, except thoseworked by Zomara. He is the great god whose power only the fetish-man canwithstand. Slaves, princes, kings, all sacrifice to him. If we offend himdeath or torture is inevitably our punishment."

  "Do you think you've offended him?" I inquired.

  "I know not," he sighed with a serious look. "If I have, then nothing cansave me; the fetish-man of Tomboura has worked evil against me."

  "Well," I said, "this is my first experience of Africa, but it strikes mevery forcibly that these fetish-men of yours will do anything they arepaid to do. What was there to prevent Kouaga paying that hideous olddemon at Tomboura to utter his horrible incantations and so frighten ourcarriers into silence?"

  "Zomara is a terrible god. None dare tamper with him, or utter his namein vain threats," Omar answered.

  "Well, whoever he is I still stick to my opinion," I said. "Depend uponit Kouaga is at the bottom of this conspiracy of silence."

  Just at that moment the black face of that worthy, rendered darker by thesnow-white haick that surrounded it, appeared among the tangled bamboos.He had missed us, and had come back to search. Yes, my surmise seemedcorrect. He was watching us closely and trying to understand ourconversation.

  That evening when we halted and the natives went into the bush tocollect fuel for the fire, I managed to take one or two of them aside andsecretly inquire our destination. But I got the same answer always.

  "Zomara has tied our tongues. He commands us to be mute, or we shall bedestroyed to the last one."

  To endeavour to learn anything from these simple-minded blacks seemeduseless. They would speak freely on every subject, indeed they seemedfond of talking with one whose face was white, yet regarding our journeythey obeyed the command of the fetish-man to the very letter. It is thesame everywhere in West and Central Africa; the fetish-man rules. What hesays is more law than the word of kings. If he declares a man or womanbewitched that person will assuredly be murdered before the sun sets; ifhe orders the people of the village to perform a certain action they willdo it, even if death stares them in the face. They blindly believe thatthe fetish is all-powerful, and that the half naked dancing savages whoadminister it are endowed with supernatural powers.

  That night, feeling tired out I threw myself down early near the campfire and slept soundly for several hours. But at length some unusualsound awoke me, and when I opened my eyes I saw that the fire had dieddown to one single flickering ember, which still blazing cast a fitfullight upon the boles of the forest giants around.

  Scarcely had I opened my eyes when I became conscious of low whisperingin my vicinity. This thoroughly aroused me, and without stirring my bodyI slowly turned my head, when to my astonishment I beheld Kouaga,standing erect with arms folded beneath his white burnouse, talking in anundertone to a dark-bearded stranger who also wore flowing Arab garmentsand bore in his hand a long-barrelled flint-lock gun withquaintly-inlaid stock. The man seemed older than the Grand Vizier of Mo,for his beard was tinged with grey, and the brown hand that held the gunwas lean and bony.

  I strained my ears to catch the drift of their earnest conversation, butcould not. It was tantalizing that they spoke in so low a tone, for thestranger seemed to mumble into his beard, while Kouaga whispered with hismouth turned from me. The presence of a stranger in our camp was, to saythe least, strange, for through those gloomy forest glades no singletraveller could journey. Omar had told me that for a person to attempt totraverse that region alone would be merely suicide. My friend wassleeping soundly at some distance from me, therefore I could not awakenhim without attracting attention. If only he would open his eyes, Ithought, he might recognize the new comer, either as friend or foe.

  But no, he slept on as peacefully as if he were still in the cosydormitory at old Trigger's, with its blue and white counterpanes andwindows commanding a wide sweep of distant sea.

  While I lay gazing upon my friend and hoping that he might open his eyes,I suddenly heard the stranger raise his voice louder than before. It wasonly for an instant, but in that moment upon my ear there fell threewords the English equivalents of which I understood.

  They were "Seek the treasure!"

  But I could distinguish nothing more, and in a few moments the two menhurriedly snapped fingers, and the mysterious stranger disappearednoiselessly into the dark silent bush.

  When the loud blasts from the ivory-horn, with its hideous ornamentationof human teeth, proclaimed the advent of another day I took Omar asideand told him of what I had witnessed and overheard. After I haddescribed the stranger he said:

  "I know not who he may be. It is evident, however, we are travelling inthe opposite direction to Mo, therefore we will go no further. I willcommand Kouaga to return to Tomboura, cross the river, and press forwardover the hills of Dabagakha to the Black Volta."

  "And if he refuses?"

  "Then we will go alone."

  An hour later, when we had eaten our plantains and the usual babel wasproceeding which was always precursory of a start being made, mycompanion strode up to Kouaga with a look of fierce determination uponhis face, saying:

  "Give ear to my words. I am Omar, son of the Naya, the Great White Queen,before whose wrath all nations tremble."

  "Speak. I listen," answered the giant negro, with a look of surprise uponhis ugly countenance.

  "I will go no further along this path. You, the head-man and the carriersshall return with me to the bank of the Comoe, otherwise my mother shallpunish you for disobeying my orders. All who dare go forward from thismoment shall be sacrificed at the yam feast and the dogs shall eat theirentrails. These are my words."

  "Then whither would you go from Tomboura?" asked Kouaga, apparentlyastonished at Omar's sudden decision.

  "I will only approach Mo by the Great Salt Road."

  "It is impossible. There is fighting in the hills, for the Karaboro andthe Dagari are at war."

  "And what matters
, pray, since they are both our allies?" Omar asked.

  For a moment the negro was nonplussed, but with a broad grin showing hiseven row of teeth, he said:

  "The bird goes not into the serpent's lair, neither does the son of theQueen enter the country of her enemies."

  "I have already given tongue to my decision," my friend replied."Advance, and each of your heads shall fall beneath the keen _doka_ ofGankoma, the executioner."

  Kouaga, hearing these words, set his teeth fiercely, and glancing at uswith his fiery eyes, the whites of which were bloodshot, retorted:

  "Recede, and we will carry you forward, bound as a slave."

  "This is a threat!" cried Omar, drawing himself up to his full height andstretching forth his arm. "You, whom my mother raised from apalace-slave, thus threaten me! Let it be thus, but I warn you that ifyou ever set foot across the borders of Mo, your head shall be set uponthe palace wall as a warning to disobedient slaves." Then, turning to me,and waving back the crowd of carriers who had collected and stoodopen-mouthed around us, he said, "Come, Scars, we will return. I havethrice traversed the path from Tomboura to the Great Salt Road, and canfollow it without a guide."

  Then, calling down the curse of Zomara, the dreaded, upon them all, heturned on his heel and walked down the narrow path we had traversed onthe previous night, while, with a final glance of triumph at the iratenegro, I followed.

  Scarcely had we gone fifty yards, however, before a dozen carriers,acting upon orders from Kouaga, had rushed after us, seized us, anddragged us back to him despite our desperate struggles.

  "So you defy me!" the negro cried in a paroxysm of rage, as Omar wasbrought up. "This is because I was fool enough to allow your white-facedfriend to accompany you. Our country is no place for whites, but he willmake a good sacrifice to Zomara when our journey is ended. You have bothrefused to accompany us, therefore we must use force." Then, turning tothe half-naked savages who held us, he said: "Bind them, and tie them intheir hammocks. Let not their bonds be loosened until our march be ended,for both are my prisoners." And he laughed triumphantly at ourdiscomfiture.

  "You shall pay for this insult with your life," Omar cried angrily.

  "Take off his European clothes, and let his string of royal jujus beburned. Henceforth he is a slave, as also is his white companion."

  Next moment twenty ready hands tore from Omar most of his well-wornclothes, and although he fought with all the strength of which he wascapable, his necklet of jujus, the magical charms that protected theQueen's son from every evil, was ruthlessly spat upon and destroyed bythe excited natives, together with his clothes.

  Then, after each of us had been tied in a hammock with our hands behindour backs, we were lifted by four stalwart bearers and carried forward ata brisk pace towards an unknown bourne.

  It was evident that we were not going to Mo, and it was equally evidenttoo, that Kouaga, whom we had trusted implicitly, was our bitter enemy.