“Tell me, then, why do you of Tayakoo hate them, and make them your slaves?”
“Why?”
“Yes; had you gold?”
“No.”
“Nor white pebbles?”
“No.”
“Then why do you hate them?”
“Because they are dangerous and wicked. They come in ships to our island and try to make us slaves. We fight them and drive them away, but they take some of my people and lash them with whips, and make them work like beasts. Also some of the whites we capture — such as these we now have with us — and then we love to force them to do our bidding. Never has there been friendship between the white men and the men of Tayakoo.”
He spoke very earnestly, and I knew he was telling the truth, in the main, for I had heard the same thing before. It was only because Uncle Naboth had saved the lives of these two blacks and been kind to them that they came to love us and to abandon the fierce hatred for the whites that had been a part of their training from youth up.
“I will buy your white slaves,” said the king, coolly, “and then you may go where you will in my kingdom.”
“We will not part with them. They must work for us and make our machine go.”
“If it is magic, it does not need slaves to make it go,” observed the king, with a smile.
“Would you deprive your brother kings of their only followers?”
“I will give you as many negroes as you require, in place of them.”
“We cannot spare them. These white dogs know our ways, and serve us well.”
“Then I will take but one, and leave you the other.”
Bry shook his head.
“Whatever else we possess, except our wonderful travelling machine, we will freely give to our brother,” said he. “But even Nalig-Nad has no right to demand our slaves, and we shall keep them.”
The king seemed disappointed. After a moment’s pause, “Think of it,” he said; “and meantime make my home your home. We will talk of these matters again.”
He waved his hand in dismissal and turned to caress the children.
Ogo the chief said, sternly: “Come!” but Bry stood still.
“Have we the king’s permission to visit his dominions in our machine, while we are his guests?” he asked.
“Not yet,” replied Nalig-Nad, with the first touch of impatience he had shown; “we will talk again before you leave my village.”
“That does not sound friendly,” retorted Bryonia, frowning.
“Have you done anything to forfeit my friendship?” enquired the king, turning a swift glance upon the speaker. “Be content. Only in the king’s village should the brothers and guests of the king remain in peace and comfort. My people shall be your servants, and you may command them as you will; but you must not go outside the wall.”
We did not like this, and stood a moment silent.
“Seems to me, King Honorable Bryonia,” said Nux, speaking for the first time during the interview and addressing his friend point blank, as if the king’s presence was immaterial; “seems to me this new brother, King Nalig-Nad, is not a bad fellow. I like him because he is kind to little children, and I am sorry for him because he is not better informed. But what can you expect, when he stays in this one-horse place and knows nothing of the great world that bows at our feet? If he dares oppose your will, remember how poor and ignorant he is, and forgive him. I know what you are thinking great King Honorable Bryonia, but I beg you not to destroy Nalig-Nad yet, or to explode his people with the terrible power you possess. Let us be patient. Permit this king to live on, for a short time, anyway. What a shame to ruin this happy home! Be patient, my mighty brother, and soon this foolish Nalig-Nad will have wisdom, and willingly grant all that you desire.”
Having delivered himself of this speech, Nux puffed his cigar again and looked at the king with a face expressive of great sympathy and concern.
Both Bry and I were fairly astounded. We had not expected Nux to take part in the discussion, and the pleading tone he had adopted was as good a bit of acting as Bryonia had yet exhibited. It impressed the king even more than Bryonia’s dignified assurances, although at first I trembled at the folly of threatening so clever and powerful a man as Nalig-Nad. After all, he was merely a savage, and more liable to suspect us of unknown powers than of unsupported audacity.
We soon discovered that Nux had grasped the situation more clearly than we had. The ruler of the San Blas was used to trickery and cunning and had trained himself to search for hidden reasons in all his dealings with outsiders. The suggestion that the owners of the strange travelling machine, who had so boldly invaded his country, had the intention and power of “exploding” himself and all his people struck him as more reasonable than anything he had yet heard. He was visibly worried, and looked half fearfully at the stern and impassive countenance of the tall South Sea Islander who stood before him.
“We will break bread,” he said, with quick decision. “Send away your slave, my brothers, and come with me.”
“Go,” said Bry, turning to me. “And go you, also, Chief Ogo,” he added, imperatively; “we would be alone with the king.”
The chief looked uneasily toward Nalig-Nad, who had set the children down and allowed them to run into the house. Noting the look, the king bowed his head to affirm Bry’s command. He might with reason fear his strange guests, but he was no coward.
I left the courtyard, followed by Ogo, and returned to where the automobile was standing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PRINCESS ILALAH
Leaning over the side of the machine, her chin resting upon her hands at the edge of the car, was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her form was tall and slender, her features exquisitely regular in contour and her eyes deep brown and soft as velvet. Her fleecy white tunic was without color save a broad band of green that formed a zigzag pattern around its edge, and in her dark hair was twined a wreath of white blossoms with delicate green leaves.
I noticed that her skin was almost white in the sunshine, the bronze hue being so soft as to be scarcely observable. She had not the same expression of sadness that seemed an inherited characteristic of her people, but gazed upward with a faint smile that showed her dainty white teeth, full at the face of Duncan Moit. When I appeared upon the scene the inventor was sitting on the side of the car opposite the girl and returning her frank regard with a look of wonder and admiration.
A little back stood a silent group of young women, whose demeanor indicated that they were the girl’s attendants. Their eyes, I noticed, roved over the strange machine with eager curiosity.
Chief Ogo uttered an exclamation of impatience and strode quickly forward.
“This is no place for you, my Princess!” he said, addressing the girl. “You must retire at once to your rooms.”
She turned her head without altering her position and said in a calm, sweet tone:
“Does my lord Ogo command Ilalah, then?”
“When the king is not present it is my duty to guard his women,” he returned, brusquely.
With a contemptuous shrug as her only reply she looked toward Duncan again, and as if continuing a conversation already begun, she said to him in soft but awkward English:
“And shall it fly like a bird, too?”
“It can almost fly, but not quite, miss,” he answered.
“But it swims like a fish?”
“Yes, miss.”
“And runs like a deer?”
“Exactly, miss.”
“It would be to please me if it did that,” she remarked, very gently.
Duncan was puzzled for a moment; then his face brightened, and he said eagerly:
“If you will get in, I will take you to ride — you and three of your women.”
She did not hesitate at all, but turned and called three of the young women by name, who came at once to her side.
Ogo the chief, who could not follow very well the English words, was scowling fiercely
, but had kept at a respectful distance since the girl had repulsed him. Enjoying his discomfiture, I promptly opened the door of the car and motioned the princess to enter. She ascended the steps lightly and I pushed her attendants after her, for I scented a lark and wanted to prevent Ogo from interfering.
I could see he was uncertain how to act, and the other bystanders were equally undecided. But no sooner had I jumped in after the women than Moit threw over the lever and started the engines, so promptly that the machine leaped forward with a bound.
We circled the king’s palace three times, while the dainty princess clung to the back of her seat and laughed delightedly and her women huddled together in abject terror. Every inhabitant flocked to the doors and windows to see us, nor could the natives control their amazement at our rapid flight.
Then Duncan headed for the arched opening in the wall, and ignoring Ogo’s wild shout to halt darted through and out upon the plains. The chief instantly notched an arrow, but the princess sprang to her feet and faced him from the rear of the car, so that he dared not shoot for fear of wounding her.
Another moment and we were out of range; and now Duncan, inspired by a natural desire to show his fair passenger what his invention could do, increased the speed until the wind whistled past our ears and our eyes were not quick enough to note the objects we passed.
I own that, being myself a sailor, I was a little frightened at this terrific dash; but Ilalah laughed gleefully and cast a slim brown arm around Duncan’s neck to steady herself as she gazed straight ahead and enjoyed to the full the excitement of the wild ride.
There was no real danger, however. The meadows were as smooth as any highway, and in an incredibly short period of time we were almost out of sight of the village.
The thought now came to me that it would not be wise for us to offend Nalig-Nad by carrying our prank too far, so I called to Duncan to return. Rather reluctantly, I imagined, he described a great circle and headed at last for the village, never abating his speed, however, until we had flown through the arch and narrowly escaped knocking over a dozen or so of the throng assembled in the enclosure.
Around the king’s palace we again sped, so as not to slacken our pace too abruptly, and then the inventor brought his wonderful machine to a halt in almost the same spot from whence we had started.
We now observed Nalig-Nad standing at the entrance to his dwelling with Nux and Bryonia on either side of him. Now that he stood upright I saw that he towered far above all his people, and was moreover straight as a gun-barrel.
As soon as we halted I opened the door and assisted the frightened attendants to reach the ground. Duncan, however, sprang out and gave his hand to Ilalah, who needed no such support. Her cheeks glowed pink through their rich tinting, her eyes sparkled brightly and there could be no question of her delight in her recent novel experience.
As soon as her feet touched the ground she ran to the king and seized his arm affectionately, crying aloud in her native tongue:
“Oh, my father, it is a miracle! The white man’s wagon is alive, and more fleet than an arrow.”
“It is not the white man’s wagon,” said Bry, quickly. “It is our wagon — the wagon of kings — and the white man is a slave whose duty it is to make it go.”
“A slave? Oh, I am sorry!” said Ilalah, with disappointment.
“Why?” asked her father, putting an arm around her.
“Because the white man is beautiful as a spirit, and he is good and kind,” answered the princess.
I glanced at the unconscious Duncan and nearly laughed outright. That the thin-faced, stooping, dreamy-eyed inventor could by any stretch of the imagination be called beautiful was as strange as it was amusing. But the girl was doubtless in earnest, and being so rarely beautiful herself she ought to be a judge.
The king was plainly annoyed at this frank praise of a hated white. He presented his daughter, with much ceremony, to Nux and Bryonia, and she touched their foreheads lightly with her finger-tips, and then her own brow, in token of friendship.
“Will your Majesty take a ride in our magic travelling machine?” asked Bry, with proud condescension.
“Not now,” said the king, drawing back thoughtfully.
Presently he walked close to the machine and eyed every part of it with great intentness. But it was clear the thing puzzled him, as well it might, and he shook his grizzled head as if he despaired of solving the problem.
Then he escorted the blacks around his village, showing them the various huts and storehouses for fruits and grain; and while they were thus occupied the princess came nearer and leaned again upon the side of the car, Moit and I being seated within it.
“If you are slaves,” she said, in a low voice, “I will befriend you. Do not fear, but call on Ilalah if you meet trouble or enemies threaten you.”
“Thank you, sweet Princess,” replied Duncan. “We may be slaves at present, but soon we shall be free. We fear no danger.”
She nodded, brightly, as if the answer reassured her, and walked away to enter the palace, her train of attendants following at a respectful distance.
Ogo and his villagers stood several paces away, silent and motionless. When the king returned with his “noble” guests he noticed the chief and at once dismissed him, telling him to return to his village and be vigilant until the visitors had departed from their dominions.
Ogo promptly departed, but not without a final glance of hatred at the inventor and me. Then the king, with many expressions of friendship, retired into his palace, and Bry and Nux were again permitted to join us.
“Let us put up the top,” said I, “so that we may talk without being overheard.”
We drew up the sections of the glass dome and fastened them in place, while the natives looked on with renewed curiosity. Then, quite alone although we could see anything that happened around us, we sat at our ease and canvassed the situation.
“If you fellows had been with us,” said Moit, “I would have run away with the princess and held her as hostage to secure our safe return to the ship.”
“Would you have let her go then?” I enquired, mischievously.
He did not deign to reply.
“We could not abandon Bry and Nux, though,” I continued, more seriously, “so there is nothing to regret.”
Bry seemed very thoughtful.
“We in bad box, Mars’ Sam,” he said in his broken English, which contrasted so strongly with the ease with which he expressed himself in his own tongue; “dat king is old fox, sure ‘nough, an’ won’t let us go ‘way from here to get de di’monds.”
“He seemed to treat you and Nux very politely, I thought.”
“All seem, Mars’ Sam; no be.”
“But isn’t he friendly? Didn’t he break bread with you?”
“Dat don’t ‘mount to nuffin, seh. If a friend lie to him, he frien’ship is broke.”
“Well, Bry; what then?”
“He know I lie to him.”
“What makes you think so?”
“He make de chalk mark.”
“But how could he know you were lying?”
“His people see our wreck ship, when we not see dem. Dey see from de trees me cook de breakfas’ an’ Nux wait on de white folks. Dey see Mars’ Dune put de machine in de ribber, an’ we all ride away on it. Ev’yt’ing de king know befo’ we come an’ lie to him. He know we fin’ de body in de canoe, an’ bury dead man in ribber. He know dead man wanted di’monds, so he kill him. He think we want di’monds, too; so he kill us if he can.”
This was indeed a gloomy prophecy. I had no doubt my man had put the exact truth clearly before us. Our folly in imagining we could so easily deceive these clever Indians was all too evident.
“I noticed that Nalig-Nad seemed suspicious and unbelieving,” I remarked, after a period of silence during which we sat staring despondently into one another’s faces. “He was telling himself all the time, perhaps, that we were fools, and he had us in his power. Only onc
e was he at all disturbed, and that was when Nux threatened to ‘explode’ him and his people. He is not quite sure that we cannot do that.”
“Nor am I,” said Duncan Moit, musingly.
“But they must know about fire-arms, and Maurice Kleppisch wrote in his book that they despised them,” I observed.
“Fire-arms do not explode people. I did not refer to them,” Moit returned. “But, tell me: if these natives are aware of our imposture, what is the use of keeping up the game? Let us get hold of the girl, make a dash for the diamonds, and then escape the best way we can.”
“The girl!” I exclaimed, as if surprised; “why should you want the girl when, as you say, we defy the natives and no hostage will be required?” Moit looked confused.
“She knows the country,” he said, after a moment, “and would make a good guide.” Then he glanced up at me and added, more honestly: “She’s very nice and pretty, Sam.”
“She’s a darling, old man; I agree with you there. But it strikes me that to capture the princess and run away with her would be to stir up no end of a rumpus. We cannot run the machine through the tangled forests, so the only way to get back is by the river — the same way we came. The king could assemble a thousand warriors to oppose us, and the chances are he’d win out.”
“Well, what shall we do?” he asked; “Fight it out?”
“Of course.”
“Got to fight, anyhow,” remarked Nux, philosophically.
“And we may as well keep up the fable of our being slaves to Nux and Bry,” I added. “They may know a good deal by observation, but the chances are they have guessed at a lot; so as long as we pretend to be two black kings and two white slaves they haven’t any good excuse for attacking us.”
During the afternoon several chiefs arrived at the village, coming in one by one as if from different parts of the country. All had more or less green in their robes, and they were a lot of remarkably shrewd and imposing looking fellows. We decided that they had been summoned by the king to a conference concerning us, for after pausing in the enclosure to take accurate note of our appearance and study the queer machine in which we were seated, they passed on into the royal dwelling.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 659
