by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XII.
ROYAL OBSEQUIES.
On the following morning the town of Kazonnde presented an aspect ofunwonted desolation. Awe-struck at the event of the previous evening,the natives had all shut themselves up in their huts. That a monarchwho was to be assumed as of divine origin should perish with one of hisministers by so horrible a death was a thing wholly unparalleled intheir experience. Some of the elder part of the community rememberedhaving taken part in certain cannibal preparations, and were aware thatthe cremation of a human body is no easy matter, yet here was a case inwhich two men had been all but utterly consumed without any extraneousapplication. Here was a mystery that baffled all their comprehension.
Old Alvez had also retired to the seclusion of his own residence;having been warned by Negoro that he would probably be held responsiblefor the occurrence, he deemed it prudent to keep in retirement.Meanwhile Negoro industriously circulated the report that the king'sdeath had been brought about by supernatural means reserved by thegreat Manitoo solely for his elect, and that it was sacred fire thathad proceeded from his body. The superstitious natives readily receivedthis version of the affair, and at once proceeded to honour MoeneLoonga with funeral rites worthy of one thus conspicuously elevated tothe rank of the gods. The ceremony (which entailed an expenditure ofhuman blood incredible except that it is authenticated by Cameron andother African travellers) was just the opportunity that Negoro requiredfor carrying out his designs against Dick, whom he intended to take aprominent part in it.
The natural successor to the king was the queen Moena. By inauguratingthe funeral without delay and thus assuming the semblance of authority,she forestalled the king of Ukusu or any other rival who might ventureto dispute her sovereignty; and moreover, by taking the reins ofgovernment into her hands she avoided the fate reserved for the otherwives who, had they been allowed to live, might prove somewhattroublesome to the shrew. Accordingly, with the sound of coodoo hornsand marimbas, she caused a proclamation to be made in the variousquarters of the town, that the obsequies of the deceased monarch wouldbe celebrated on the next evening with all due solemnity.
The announcement met with no opposition either from the officials aboutthe court or from the public at large. Alvez and the traders generallywere quite satisfied with Moena's assumption of the supremacy, knowingthat by a few presents and a little flattery they could make hersufficiently considerate for their own interests.
Preparations began at once. At the end of the chief thoroughfare floweda deep and rapid brook, an affluent of the Coango, in the dry bed ofwhich the royal grave was to be formed. Natives were immediately set towork to construct a dam by means of which the water should be diverted,until the burial was over, into a temporary channel across the plain;the last act in the ceremonial being to undam the stream and allow itto resume its proper course.
Negoro had formed the resolution that Dick Sands should be one of thevictims to be sacrificed upon the king's tomb. Thoroughly aware as hewas that the indignation which had caused the death of Harris extendedin at least an equal degree to himself, the cowardly rascal would nothave ventured to approach Dick under similar circumstances at the riskof meeting a similar fate; but knowing him to be a prisoner bound handand foot, from whom there could be nothing to fear, he resolved to goto him in his dungeon-*
Not only did he delight in torturing his victims, but he derived anespecial gratification from witnessing the torture.
About the middle of the day, accordingly, he made his way to the cellwhere Dick was detained under the strict watch of a havildar. There,bound with fetters that penetrated his very flesh, lay the poor boy;for the last four and twenty hours he had not been allowed a morsel offood, and would gladly have faced the most painful death as a welcomerelief to his miseries.
But at the sight of Negoro all his energy revived; instinctively hemade an effort to burst his bonds, and to get a hold upon hispersecutor; but the strength of a giant would have been utterlyunavailing for such a design. Dick felt that the struggle he had tomake was of another kind, and forcing himself to an apparent composure,he determined to look Negoro straight in the face, but to vouchsafe noreply to anything he might say.
"I felt bound," Negoro began, "to come and pay my respects to my youngcaptain, and to tell him how sorry I am that he has not the sameauthority here that he had on board the 'Pilgrim.'"
Finding that Dick returned no answer, he continued,--
"You remember your old cook, captain: I have come to know what youwould like to order for your breakfast."
Here he paused to give a brutal kick at Dick's foot, and went on,--
"I have also another question to ask you, captain; can you tell me howit was that you landed here in Angola instead of upon the coast ofAmerica?"
The way in which the question was put more than ever confirmed Dick'simpression that the "Pilgrim's" course had been altered by Negoro, buthe persevered in maintaining a contemptuous silence.
"It was a lucky thing for you, captain," resumed the vindictivePortuguese, "that you had a good seaman on board, otherwise the shipwould have run aground on some reef in the tempest, instead of comingashore here in a friendly port."
"Your life is in my hands!"]
Whilst he was speaking, Negoro had gradually drawn nearer to theprisoner, until their faces were almost in contact. Exasperated byDick's calmness, his countenance assumed an expression of the utmostferocity, and at last he burst forth in a paroxysm of rage.
"It is my turn now! I am master now! I am captain here! You are in mypower now! Your life is in my hands!"
"Take it, then," said Dick quietly; "death has no terrors for me, andyour wickedness will soon be avenged."
"Avenged!" roared Negoro; "do you suppose there is a single soul tocare about you? Avenged! who will concern himself with what befallsyou? except Alvez and me, there is no one with a shadow of authorityhere; if you think you are going to get any help from old Tom or any ofthose niggers, let me tell you that they are every one of them sold andhave been sent off to Zanzibar."
"Hercules is free," said Dick.
"Hercules!" sneered Negoro; "he has been food for lions and pantherslong ago, I am only sorry that I did not get the chance of disposing ofhim myself."
"And there is Dingo," calmly persisted Dick; "sure as fate, he willfind you out some day."
"Dingo is dead!" retorted Negoro with malicious glee: "I shot the brutemyself, and I should be glad if every survivor of the 'Pilgrim' hadshared his fate."
"But remember," said Dick, "you have to follow them all yourself;" andhe fixed a sharp gaze upon his persecutor's eye.
The Portuguese villain was stung to the quick; he made a dash towardsthe youth, and would have strangled him upon the spot, but rememberingthat any such sudden action would be to liberate him from the torturehe was determined he should undergo, he controlled his rage, and aftergiving strict orders to the havildar, who had been a passive spectatorof the scene, to keep a careful watch upon his charge, he left thedungeon.
So far from depressing Dick's spirits, the interview had altogether acontrary effect; his feelings had undergone a reaction, so that all hisenergies were restored. Possibly Negoro in his sudden assault hadunintentionally loosened his fetters, for he certainly seemed to havegreater play for his limbs, and fancied that by a slight effort hemight succeed in disengaging his arms. Even that amount of freedom,however, he knew could be of no real avail to him; he was aclosely-guarded prisoner, without hope of succour from without; and nowhe had no other wish than cheerfully to meet the death that shouldunite him to the friends who had gone before.
The hours passed on. The gleams of daylight that penetrated thethatched roof of the prison gradually faded into darkness; the fewsounds on the chitoka, a great contrast to the hubbub of the day,became hushed into silence, and night fell upon the town of Kazonnde.
Dick Sands slept soundly for about a couple of hours, and woke upconsiderably refreshed. One of his arms, which was somewhat lessswollen than
the other, he was able to withdraw from its bonds; it wasat any rate a relief to stretch it at his pleasure.
The havildar, grasping the neck of a brandy-bottle which he had justdrained, had sunk into a heavy slumber, and Dick Sands wascontemplating the possibility of getting posssession of his gaoler'sweapons when his attention was arrested by a scratching at the bottomof the door. By the help of his liberated arm he contrived to crawlnoiselessly to the threshold, where the scratching increased inviolence. For a moment he was in doubt whether the noise proceeded fromthe movements of a man or an animal. He gave a glance at the havildar,who was sound asleep, and placing his lips against the door murmured"Hercules!"
A low whining was the sole reply.
"It must be Dingo," muttered Dick to himself; "Negoro may have told mea lie; perhaps, after all, the dog is not dead."
As though in answer to his thoughts, a dog's paw was pushed below thedoor. Dick seized it eagerly; he had no doubt it was Dingo's; but ifthe dog brought a message, it was sure to be tied to his neck, andthere seemed to be no means of getting at it, except the holeunderneath could be made large enough to admit the animal's head. Dickdetermined to try and scrape away the soil at the threshold, andcommenced digging with his nails. But he had scarcely set himself tohis task when loud barkings, other than Dingo's, were heard in thedistance. The faithful creature had been scented out by the nativedogs, and instinct dictated an immediate flight. Alarm had evidentlybeen taken, as several gun-shots were fired; the havildar half rousedhimself from his slumber, and Dick was fain to roll himself once moreinto his corner, there to await the dawn of the day which was intendedto be his last.
All his energies were restored.]
Throughout that day, the grave-digging was carried on with unremittedactivity. A large number of the natives, under the superintendence ofthe queen's prime minister, were set to work, and according to thedecree of Moena, who seemed resolved to continue the rigorous sway ofher departed husband, were bound, under penalty of mutilation, toaccomplish their task within the proscribed time.
As soon as the stream had been diverted into its temporary channel,there was hollowed out in the dry river bed a pit, fifty feet long, tenfeet wide, and ten feet deep. This, towards the close of the day, waslined throughout with living women, selected from Moene Loonga'sslaves; in ordinary cases it would have been their fate to be buriedalive beside their master; but in recognition of his miraculous deathit was ordained that they should be drowned beside his remains.[1]
[Footnote 1: The horrible hecatombs that commemorate the death of anypowerful chief in Central Africa defy all description. Cameron relatesthat more than a hundred victims were sacrificed at the obsequies ofthe father of the King of Kassongo.]
Generally, the royal corpse is arrayed in its richest vestments beforebeing consigned to the tomb, but in this case, when the remainsconsisted only of a few charred bones, another plan was adopted. Animage of the king, perhaps rather flattering to the original, was madeof wicker-work; inside this were placed the fragments of bones andskin, and the effigy itself was then arrayed in the robes of state,which, as already mentioned, were not of a very costly description.
Cousin Benedict's spectacles were not forgotten, but were firmlyaffixed to the countenance of the image. The masquerade had itsludicrous as well as its terrible side.
When the evening arrived, a long procession was seen wending its way tothe place of interment; the uproar was perfectly deafening; shouts,yells, the boisterous incantations of the musicians, the clang ofmusical instruments, and the reports of many old muskets, mingled inwild confusion.
The ceremony was to take place by torch-light, and the whole populationof Kazonnde, native and otherwise, was bound to be present. Alvez,Coimbra, Negoro, the Arab dealers and their havildars all helped toswell the numbers, the queen having given express orders that no onewho had been at the lakoni should leave the town, and it was not deemedprudent to disobey her commands.
The remains of the king were carried in a palanquin in the rear of thecortege, surrounded by the wives of the second class, some of whom weredoomed to follow their master beyond the tomb. Queen Moena, in statearray, marched behind the catafalque.
Night was well advanced when the entire procession reached the banks ofthe brook, but the resin-torches, waved on high by their bearers, sheda ruddy glare upon the teeming crowd. The grave, with its lining ofliving women, bound to its side by chains, was plainly visible; fiftyslaves, some resigned and mute, others uttering loud and piteous cries,were there awaiting the moment when the rushing torrent should beopened upon them.
The wives who were destined to perish had been selected by the queenherself and were all in holiday-attire. One of the victims, who borethe title of second wife, was forced down upon her hands and knees inthe grave, in order to form a resting-place for the effigy, as she hadbeen accustomed to do for the living sovereign; the third wife had tosustain the image in an upright position, and the fourth lay down atits feet to make a footstool.
In front of the effigy, at the end of the grave, a huge stake, paintedred, was planted firmly in the earth. Bound to this stake, his bodyhalf naked, exhibiting marks of the tortures which by Negoro's ordershe had already undergone, friendless and hopeless, was Dick Sands!
Friendless and hopeless.]
The time, however, for opening the flood-gate had not yet arrived.First of all, at a sign from the queen, the fourth wife, forming theroyal footstool had her throat cut by an executioner, her bloodstreaming into the grave. This barbarous deed was the commencement of amost frightful butchery. One after another, fifty slaves fell beneaththe slaughterous knife, until the river-bed was a very cataract ofblood. For half an hour the shrieks of the victims mingled with theimprecations of their murderers, without evoking one single expressionof horror or sympathy from the gazing crowd around.
At a second signal from the queen, the barrier, which retained thewater above, was opened. By a refinement of cruelty the torrent was notadmitted suddenly to the grave, but allowed to trickle gradually in.
The first to be drowned were the slaves that carpeted the bottom of thetrench, their frightful struggles bearing witness to the slow deaththat was overpowering them. Dick was immersed to his knees, but hecould be seen making what might seem one last frantic effort to bursthis bonds.
Steadily rose the water; the stream resumed its proper course; the lasthead disappeared beneath its surface, and soon there remained nothingto indicate that in the depth below there was a tomb where a hundredvictims had been sacrificed to the memory of the King of Kazonnde.
Painful as they are to describe, it is impossible to ignore the realityof such scenes.
