The Adventures of Saturnin Farandoul

by Albert Robida

  One day, the little Niam-Niam brought by Farandoul came to find his master, who was busy making preparations for a lion hunt. The boy, who was already quite familiar with Makalolo ways, was highly delighted.

  “What’s up with you?” asked Farandoul, surprised to see him so buoyant.

  “Oh, master, Me very pleased, very pleased! Me never eaten white women, me going to eat white women. Oh joy! Very happy!”

  “What, little wretch? You’re going to eat white women?”

  “Yes—and master too. Master is invited and will take me!”

  “What white women are we going to eat?”

  “The queens, master knows well. Oh, me very happy! Good white queens!”

  “Come, on, explain yourself! Why are we going to eat the queens?”

  “Master knows well! At the spring Moon, white queens finished, Generals Dilolo and Kaluna queens. Great feast in plaza, and black queens eat white queens, with high priest and us. Oh, very happy! Great day!”

  “You’re mad.”

  “No, master. Me know very well. Master ask Dilolo.”

  Farandoul, who had burst out laughing at the little Niam-Niam’s first words, could not help a certain anxiety eventually slipping into his mind. He remembered allusion having been made several times, in his presence, to the solemn feast of the first Moon of spring in ambiguous terms and with certain mysterious implications, to which he had not paid attention at the time. Without putting too much trust in what the little Niam-Niam had said, he nevertheless resolved to clarify the matter, and went to the palace to interrogate his friend the high priest, the organizer of all the ceremonies.

  The high priest welcomed him warmly. He had conceived a strong liking for our hero, and as he was old, dreamed of making him his successor. He also wanted to take advantage of the occasion to initiate Farandoul into the mysterious quinquennial ceremonies.

  “O, my child! The wisdom of our ancestors has established very wise customs among us. You know that we always have four queens: two in service and two in reserve…”

  “That’s very ingenious.”

  “Yes. If one of the queens in service is lost to us, a reserve queen replaces her; a fourth is appointed and everything continues without disturbance—but every five years, at the first Moon of spring, the reserve queens occupy the throne in their turn, and…”

  “And…?”

  “And then a long series of feasts begins in Makalolo. The warriors come together, save for those necessary to guard the kingdom. There are beautiful ceremonies—which you shall see, my son—and sacred dances by all the groups of priestesses. The former queens hand over their powers to the new ones. On the evening of the third day of the festival, a great official and diplomatic feast brings together all the principal functionaries and renowned warriors. You are invited in advance, my dear child to this solemn banquet…”

  “Well?”

  “At this solemn banquet, in obedience to the wise customs of our ancestors, the two new queens eat the two former ones.”

  Farandoul released an exclamation. The Niam-Niam had been telling the truth!

  “This custom has been followed in Makalolo for centuries,” the high priest went on, solemnly, “and the nation thrives on it. For more than 1000 years, our queens have eaten one another in this fashion, which ensures that all the wisdom of 500 queens is concentrated in the bodies of the two queens in service. Some have not reigned the whole five years; if the people murmur and become discontented with them, or if the two reserve queens give evidence of exceptional wisdom, the date of the changeover is brought forward. Admire, my dear boy, the wisdom of our ancestors! The old customs are good; it is thanks to them that the Makalolos live happily and in a very advanced sate of civilization, as you have been able to see.”

  Farandoul was speechless. The high priest took his silence for admiration. Finally, he asked: “But tell me—did your two white queens also eat those who preceded them on the throne?”

  “Certainly!” cried the high priest, somewhat offended. “I told you that the wisdom of more than 500 queens is concentrated in their minds. They have eaten their predecessors, who had eaten two others, and so on, throughout the years.”

  “They haven’t said anything to me about it!”

  “That’s because, in their wisdom, they have not judged it appropriate to mention it to you. Go see them, my son, and question Their Majesties.”

  Farandoul plunged into deep reflection. “It’s frightful!” he said to himself. “What! Those charming queens, the brunette Caroline and the blonde Angelina, have taken to cannibalism! Who would have believed it? But no, it’s impossible. They have no idea of the destiny reserved for them! It’s me who must warn them and save them! Let’s go!” And he headed for the queens’ apartment.

  To stave off boredom, the two queens were fencing with capped swords. They flung their arms around Farandoul’s neck.

  The latter calmed this fit of gaiety with a few words. “Pardon me, Mesdames,” he said, gravely. “I have some serious questions to ask you. You’ve told me about the festival of your coronation, but you haven’t mentioned the great banquet of the third day…”

  “Ah, the sacred festival?” replied Angelina. “Those were the days. The meal itself was one of the best I ever ate in my life; even the Brébant doesn’t serve dishes as succulent as that!”70

  Farandoul recoiled in horror. “Do you recall, Angelina and Caroline, what you ate that day?”

  “We didn’t speak the Makalolo language well enough then to retain the names of the dishes. I only know that it was a particular thing that is only served in solemn circumstances—but it was exquisite, wasn’t it, Caroline?”

  “Oh, my dear, it was very tasty!”

  Farandoul recoiled in horror again. “One more thing, Mesdames. The queens whom you succeeded—have you ever seen them since?”

  “No, that’s true! We thought they were offended. A matter of self-respect.”

  “Horror! You don’t know why you’ve never seen these unfortunate queens? Well, I’ll tell you myself: it’s because, during the great banquet of the third day, you ate them!”

  The queens released sharp screams and slumped down on to their rush mats.

  “You don’t know the fatal customs of the Makalolos! I’ve only just learned them while talking to the high priest. Know, then, that every five years, the two reserve queens eat the two active queens—it’s a means dreamed up by the ancient Makalolos to conserve the wisdom of their queens. So it wasn’t just two queens that you ate, but 500!”

  “Cannibals!” sobbed Angelina. “I’ve eaten 500 women!”

  “Ah!” murmured Caroline, the first to recover her composure. “That’s why everyone keeps saying that the two of us unite the wisdom of 500 queens! It always made Angelina laugh. I understand everything now!”

  Angelina suddenly started. “But what about us? We’re going to be eaten too! Kalunda and Dilolo are going to eat us!”

  The two women fainted, this time completely.

  Farandoul hurriedly brought them round. “Don’t despair!” he said. “I’ll save you. Trust me.”

  Affairs of state suffered considerably from the state of agitation into which the fatal news had plunged the two white queens. For a fortnight they did not have the strength to occupy themselves with what needed to be done. Farandoul had to exhort them not to make their anxiety manifest, and to resume their conferences with the ministers and the generals. “Another fortnight,” he said, “and I’ll take you away from the cruel destiny that threatens you.”

  In the meantime, before abducting the queens of that tranquil and hospitable realm, Farandoul decided to ask the high priest whether there was any means to suppress the ancient custom of the Makalolos and to revise the constitution on this point. He had a long conversation on this subject with the old man, but as soon as Farandoul broached it the high priest furrowed his white eyebrows.

  “What are you suggesting, my dear child? The wisdom of 500 former qu
eens would be lost in that fashion! The poor Makalolo nation, badly governed, would soon lose its ancient prosperity with entirely new queens. It’s easy to see that you’re a foreigner.”

  “But in other countries,” Farandoul objected, “in the Europe about which I’ve spoken to you, the kings and queens are not obliged to eat their predecessors.”

  “That’s a mistake—a great mistake! Is your old Europe happy? Entirely happy? It’s not, is it, my son? Introduce the customs of the Makalolos into Europe and, in a few centuries, everyone will admire the wisdom of your monarchs—you’ll see!”

  Farandoul returned to the queens, who were waiting for him anxiously. The reserve queens, Dilolo and Kalunda, were in the throne room chatting with the white queens about the realm’s affairs.

  “No hope with the high priest,” Farandoul said, in French. “It’s necessary to flee—and the sooner the better, for the solemn hour is approaching.”

  “Yes, the festival begins in a week.”

  “But what about Dilolo and Kalunda?” Angelina asked. “They aren’t supposed to leave us during these final days.”

  “I’ve thought about that. There’s only one way, and that’s to abduct them too! This is my plan: order a great review for tomorrow of all the warriors in the western plain within four leagues of the capital, on the banks of the river. The whole army will come together, with the fleet, the ostrich-riders and giraffe-riders. We’ll tire out the warriors and their mounts with various exercises. We’ll bring them back to Makalolo, and that same evening, when they’re in no state to pursue us, we’ll flee in my boat.”

  “Bravo! We’re saved!” Caroline and Angelina threw their arms around Farandoul’s neck.

  Kalunda and Dilolo, not having understood this speech, did likewise, embracing our hero with the same conviction. For a long time, his personal merits and talents as a warrior had made such a strong impression on the hearts of the two generals that they had promised to make him their prime minister as soon as they succeeded to the throne.

  The following day was a great one for the Makalolo nation, and an exhausting one. While all the boats in the fleet, guided by Farandoul’s steamboat, went downriver, the regiments of ostrich-mounted sharpshooters and the giraffe corps galloped off to the exercise-field.

  Farandoul and the four queens were aboard the little steamboat. As soon as the entire army as gathered at the rendezvous, Farandoul made the warriors line up in battle formation on the shore, with the squadrons of the giraffe corps at the center and the ostrich-riders on the flanks. That done, he gave orders to the fleet.

  The naval maneuvers began; the foreheads of the oarsmen streamed with sweat, but the warriors brandished their weapons frenetically, urging them on with the shafts of their spears. The circling movements, changes of front and charges in line lasted for three hours under the scorching Sun. Then the war-drums ceased beating and the fleet stopped. It was the turn of the land army, still immobile under arms. The fur queens disembarked and mounted giraffes. Farandoul followed them, leaving the steamboat in the care of the little Niam-Niam.

  The noise of 500 war-drums suddenly burst forth on the shore and all the regiments broke formation. The general staff was already disappearing into the distance in a cloud of dust. The ostrich-mounted warriors launched themselves after them. There were charges by platoons, by squadrons, and finally by scattered sharpshooters. The ostriches were panting; Farandoul, seeing that they were out of breath, turned to the warriors on giraffes and made them whirl around in their turn.

  It was 4 p.m. when Farandoul and the general staff came back to take their positions on the bank for the march-past. The poor ostriches pressed around the little Niam-Niam, who distributed some food to them. The warriors leapt back into the saddle hurriedly and resumed their ranks.

  The queen could not help clapping their hands during the march-past, admiring the martial bearing of the warriors.

  “Alas, it will be necessary to leave them!” murmured Caroline. “Come on, I’d like to embrace my brave colonels one last time.”

  Meanwhile, the entire army had taken the road to Makalolo; the giraffes and ostriches were trotting over the plain and the fleet was going back up the N’kari.

  The Moon was rising when they reached Makalolo. The steamboat, still manned by Farandoul and the four queens, moved aside to let the fleet pass. When the last boat had been drawn up on to the shore and all the crews had disembarked, Farandoul gave a signal to the white queens.

  “The time has come, Mesdames,” he said. “We’re leaving!” Leaning over the hold he added: “Let’s go, Niam-Niam”—that is what he called the negro—“fire up the furnace, and quickly! And now, brave warriors, farewell! Farewell, brave Makalolo nation!” And before Dilolo and Kalunda were able to understand what was happening, the boat veered to starboard and retraced the route that it had followed.

  Loud cries were heard on the bank. People ran about, asked questions—but some hours must have gone by before the truth was realized. Besides, the fatigue of the entire army, the oarsmen, the ostriches and the giraffes rendered any immediate pursuit impossible.

  Kalunda and Dilolo interrogated Farandoul.

  “It means that I’ve saved you,” the latter replied in the Makalolo language, which he now spoke fluently. “Don’t you know what was being planned? The Makalolo nation, content with its white queens, wanted to keep them for another five years. The high priest, having been consulted, had consented, on condition that, in order not to break entirely with tradition, the two white queens should commence their new reign by eating the two reserve queens. The white queens warned me, and I’ve saved all four of you!”

  Kalunda and Dilolo, frightened by the peril they had run, let themselves fall into Farandoul’s arms.

  “By dawn tomorrow we’ll be far away,” Farandoul said. “Have no fear, black and white queens; we’ll proceed at full steam!”

  He was still speaking when the wooly head of the little Niam-Niam appeared at deck level. “Master!” he cried. “No more coal!”

  Farandoul started. “How can there be no more coal, imbecile? The bunker’s full!”

  “No, master, bunker empty!”

  Farandoul shrugged his shoulders and went down rapidly. He had spent that very morning checking his boat thoroughly, and had made sure that the provision of coal was hardly reduced.

  The four queens seated on the deck suddenly heard a loud cry from the hold, and saw Farandoul leap on to the deck, dragging the little Niam-Niam by the ears.

  “No more coal!” he cried. “He’s telling the truth. And we’ll be pursued flat out in a few hours! Come on, you little rascal, what have you done with the coal? The bunker was full this morning.”

  “Wasn’t me, master—was the ostriches.”

  “What do you mean, the ostriches?”

  “Yes, master, warriors’ ostriches. This morning, ostriches tired, hungry, eating pebbles. Then me very good, gave coal to ostriches. Ostriches ate all up, ostriches content.”

  Farandoul remembered then that, on returning to the river bank at the head of the giraffe corps, he had found the ostriches clustered around the little Niam-Niam. There was no doubt about it; the little wretch had distributed all the coal in the bunker to the gluttonous birds. It was all over—the steamboat had had its wings clipped!

  The queens had understood. Dilolo and Kalunda drew their swords and showed by gestures that they were ready to defend themselves.

  “We’re not at that point yet,” Farandoul went on. “Don’t despair. We’ll go on, burning everything that we can burn, and try to put a healthy distance between us and your subjects.”

  III.

  While the four queens rested in the cabin, Farandoul and Niam-Niam steered the boat. The Solitaire was a fast vessel, but her furnaces devoured fuel. Farandoul gathered all his resources—all the scrapings from the bunker, all the wood that he could remove from the boat—but all that would only last nine or ten hours at moderate speed.

  At daw
n, they had covered scarcely 15 leagues—not much! By now, the warriors must have set off in search of their queens on their rested ostriches, and the enraged warriors of the fleet must have launched themselves on to the river. It was necessary to keep going, at all costs!

  Farandoul and the passengers went ashore in order to gather dry wood. The furnaces were relit and the Solitaire resumed its journey. The supply of wood lasted until noon; then it was necessary to go ashore again. Unfortunately, wood was scarce; they had to be content with thin branches and green trees. That wood produced more smoke than steam, and the Solitaire made slow progress. Its speed was slowed further by an encounter with a hippopotamus herd—which, seeing the boat moving slowly through the water, came to attack it with blows of their heads. That evening, Farandoul, harassed by fatigue, had to go and fell trees on the river bank. The warriors had to be getting closer.

  Before going ashore in the morning, Farandoul inspected the plain cautiously; a few white dots were visible on the horizon. With the aid of his telescope, Farandoul recognized half a dozen ostrich-riding warriors.

  What was he to do? To go forward was no longer possible; they had no more fuel—and before they could fell enough trees, the warriors would have caught up with the fugitives. And the fleet could not be far behind!

  Farandoul did not hesitate. He decided to abandon the Solitaire, which had become useless. Without losing a minute, he collected everything that might be useful—provisions, munitions, luggage—made up several packs and had everyone move out.

  The queens, moved by a feverish ardor, wanted to fight, but Farandoul had another plan. He made everyone hide in the dense undergrowth and hid in the coal-bunker, from which he could see everything that happened through a little hole.

  He had scarcely shut himself in when loud shouts from the warrior women told him that they had discovered the boat. They arrived at a gallop, happy to have got their queens back. There were eight warriors, doubtless comprising an advance guard. They capered about on the bank, astonished by the silence that reined in the boat. Finally, readying their weapons, they leapt down to the ground and attached their ostriches to trees. Having inspected the surroundings carefully, they decided to board the vessel.