CHAPTER XIV
THE MOTHER OF JEEKIE
"Jeekie," said Alan next morning, "I tell you again that I have had
enough of this place, I want to get out."
"Yes, Major, that just what mouse say when he finish cheese in trap,
but missus come along, call him 'Pretty, pretty,' and drown him all
the same," and he nodded in the direction of the Asika's house.
"Jeekie, it has got to be done--do you hear me? I had rather die
trying to get away than stop here till the next two months are up. If
I am here on the night of the next full moon but one, I shall shoot
that Asika and then shoot myself, and you must take your chance. Do
you understand?"
"Understand that foolish game and poor lookout for Jeekie, Major, but
can't think of any plan." Then he rubbed his big nose reflectively and
added, "Fahni and his people your slaves now, 'spose we have talk with
him. I tell priests to bring him along when they come with breakfast.
Leave it to me, Major."
Alan did leave it to him, with the result that after long argument the
priests consented or obtained permission to produce Fahni and his
followers, and a little while after the great men arrived looking very
dejected, and saluted Alan humbly. Bidding the rest of them be seated,
he called Fahni to the end of the room and asked him through Jeekie if
he and his men did not wish to return home.
"Indeed we do, white lord," answered the old chief, "but how can we?
The Asika has a grudge against our tribe and but for you would have
killed every one of us last night. We are snared and must stop here
till we die."
"Would not your people help you if they knew, Fahni?"
"Yes, lord, I think so. But how can I tell them who doubtless believe
us dead? Nor can I send a messenger, for this place is guarded and he
would be killed at once. We came here for your sake because you had
Little Bonsa, a god that is known in the east and the west, in the
north and the south, and because you saved me from the lion, and here,
alas! we must perish."
"Jeekie," said Alan, "can you not find a messenger? Have you, who were
born of this people, no friend among them at all?"
Jeekie shook his white head and rolled his eyes. Then suddenly an idea
struck him.
"Yes," he said, "I think one, p'raps. I mean my ma."
"Your ma!" said Alan. "Oh! I remember. Have you heard anything more
about her?"
"Yes, Major. Very old girl now, but strong on leg, so they say.
Believe she glad go anywhere, because she public nuisance; they tired
of her in prison and there no workhouse here, so they want turn her
out starve, which of course break my heart. Perhaps she take message.
Some use that way. Only think she afraid go Ogula-land because they
nasty cannibal and eat old woman."
When all this was translated to Fahni he assured Jeekie with
earnestness that nothing would induce the Ogula people to eat his
mother; moreover, that for her sake they would never look
carnivorously on another old woman, fat or thin.
"Well," said Jeekie, "I try again to get hold of old lady and we see.
I pray priests, whom you save other day, let her out of chokey as I
sick to fall upon bosom, which quite true, only so much to think of
that no time to attend to domestic relation till now."
That very afternoon, on returning to his room from walking in the
dismal cedar garden, Alan's ears were greeted by a sound of shrill
quarrelling. Looking up he saw an extraordinary sight. A tall, gaunt,
withered female who might have been of any age between sixty and a
hundred, had got Jeekie's ear in one hand, and with the other was
slapping him in the face while she exclaimed:
"O thief, whom by the curse of Bonsa I brought into the world, what
have you done with my blanket? Was it not enough that you, my only
son, should leave me to earn my own living? Must you also take my best
blanket with you, for which reason I have been cold ever since. Where
is it, thief, where is it?"
"Worn out, my mother, worn out," he answered, trying to free himself.
"You forget, honourable mother, that I grow old and you should have
been dead years ago. How can you expect a blanket to last so long?
Leave go of my ear, beloved mother, and I will give you another. I
have travelled across the world to find you and I want to hear news of
your husband."
"My husband, thief, which husband? Do you mean your father, the one
with the broken nose, who was sacrificed because you ran away with the
white man whom Bonsa loved? Well, you look out for him when you get
into the world of ghosts, for he said that he was going to wait for
you there with the biggest stick that he could find. Why I haven't
thought of him for years, but then I have had three other husbands
since his time, bad enough, but better than he was, so who would? And
now Bonsa has got the lot, and I have no children alive, and they say
I am to be driven out of the prison to starve next week as they won't
feed me any longer, I who can still work against any one of them, and
--you've got my blanket, you ugly old rascal," and collapsing beneath
the weight of her recited woes, the hag burst into a melancholy howl.
"Peace, my mother," said Jeekie, patting her on the head. "Do what I
tell you and you shall have more blankets than you can wear and, as
you are still so handsome, another husband too if you like, and a
garden and slaves to work for you and plenty to eat."
"How shall I get all these things, my son?" asked the old woman,
looking up. "Will you take me to your home and support me, or will
that white lord marry me? They told me that the Asika had named him as
the Mungana, and she is very jealous, the most jealous Asika that I
have ever known."
"No, mother, he would like to, but he dare not, and I cannot support
you as I should wish, as here I have no house or property. You will
get all this by taking a walk and holding your tongue. You see this
man here, he is Fahni, king of a great tribe, the Ogula. He wants you
to carry a message for him, and by and by he will marry you, won't
you, Fahni?"
"Oh! yes, yes," said Fahni; "I will do anything she likes. No one
shall be so rich and honoured in my country, and for her sake we will
never eat another old woman, whereas if she stays here she will be
driven to the mountains to starve in a week."
"Set out the matter," said the mother of Jeekie, who was by no means
so foolish as she seemed.
So they told her what she must do, namely, travel down to the Ogula
and tell them of the plight of their chief, bidding them muster all
their fighting men and when the swamps were dry enough, advance as
near as they dared to the Asiki country and, if they could not attack
it, wait till they had further news.
The end of it was that the mother of Jeekie, who knew her case to be
desperate at home, where she was in no good repute, promised to
attempt the journey in consideration of advantages to be received.
Since she was to be turned adrift to meet her fate with as much food
as she could carry, this she could do without exciting any suspicion,
for who would trouble about the movements of a useless old thief?
Meanwhile Jeekie gave her one of the robes which the Asika had
provided for Alan, also various articles which she desired and, having
learned Fahni's message by heart and announced that she considered
herself his affianced bride, the gaunt old creature departed happy
enough after exchanging embraces with her long lost son.
"She will tell somebody all about it and we shall only get our throats
cut," said Alan wearily, for the whole thing seemed to him a foolish
farce.
"No, no, Major. I make her swear not split on ghosts of all her
husbands and by Big Bonsa hisself. She sit tight as wax, because she
think they haunt her if she don't and I too by and by when I dead.
P'raps she get to Ogula country and p'raps not. If she don't, can't
help it and no harm done. Break my heart, but only one old woman less.
Anyhow she hold tongue, that main point, and I really very glad find
my ma, who never hoped to see again. Heaven very kind to Jeekie, give
him back to family bosom," he added, unctuously.
That day there were no excitements, and to Alan's intense relief he
saw nothing of the Asika. After its orgy of witchcraft and bloodshed
on the previous night, weariness and silence seemed to have fallen
upon the town. At any rate no sound came from it that could be heard
above the low, constant thunder of the great waterfall rushing down
its precipice, and in the cedar-shadowed garden where Alan walked till
he was weary, attended by Jeekie and the Ogula savages, not a soul was
to be seen.
On the following morning, when he was sitting moodily in his room, two
priests came to conduct him to the Asika. Having no choice, followed
by Jeekie, he accompanied them to her house, masked as usual, for
without this hateful disguise he was not allowed to stir. He found her
lying upon a pile of cushions in a small room that he had never seen
before, which was better lighted than most in that melancholy abode,
and seemed to serve as her private chamber. In front of her lay the
skin of the lion that he had sent as a present, and about her throat
hung a necklace made of its claws, heavily set in gold, with which she
was playing idly.
At the opening of the door she looked up with a swift smile that
turned to a frown when she saw that he was followed by Jeekie.
"Say, Vernoon," she asked in her languorous voice, "can you not stir a
yard without that ugly black dog at your heels? Do you bring him to
protect your back? If so, what is the need? Have I not sworn that you
are safe in my land?"
Alan made Jeekie interpret this speech, then answered that the reason
was that he knew but little of her tongue.
"Can I not teach it to you alone, then, without this low fellow
hearing all my words? Well, it will not be for long," and she looked
at Jeekie in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. "Get behind
us, dog, and you, Vernoon, come sit on these cushions at my side. Nay,
not there, I said upon the cushions--so. Now I will take off that ugly
mask of yours, for I would look into your eyes. I find them pleasant,
Vernoon," and without waiting for his permission, she sat up and did
so. "Ah!" she went on, "we shall be happy when we are married, shall
we not? Do not be afraid, Vernoon, I will not eat out your heart as I
have those of the men that went before you. We will live together
until we are old, and die together at last, and together be born
again, and so on and on till the end which even I cannot foresee. Why
do you not smile, Vernoon, and say that you are pleased, and that you
will be happy with me who loved you from the moment that my eyes fell
upon you in sleep? Speak, Vernoon, lest I should grow angry with you."
"I don't know what to say," answered Alan despairingly through Jeekie,
"the honour is too great for me, who am but a wandering trader who
came here to barter Little Bonsa against the gold I need"--to support
my wife and family, he was about to add, then remembering that this
statement might not be well received, substituted, "to support my old
parents and eight brothers and sisters who are dependent upon me, and
remain hungry until I return to them."
"Then I think they will remain hungry a long time, Vernoon, for while
I live you shall never return. Much as I love you I would kill you
first," and her eyes glittered as she said the words. "Still," she
added, noting the fall in his face, "if it is gold that they need, you
shall send it them. Yes, my people shall take all that I gave you down
to the coast, and there it can be put in a big canoe and carried
across the water. See to the packing of the stuff, you black dog," she
said to Jeekie over her shoulder, "and when it is ready I will send it
hence."
Alan began to thank her, though he thought it more than probable that
even if she kept her word, this bullion would never get to Old
Calabar, and much less to England. But she waived the matter aside as
one in which she was not interested.
"Tell me," she asked; "would you have me other than I am? First, do
you think me beautiful?"
"Yes," answered Alan honestly, "very beautiful when you are quiet as
now, not when you are dancing as you did the other night without your
robes."
When she understood what he meant the Asika actually blushed a little.
"I am sorry," she answered in a voice that for her was quite humble.
"I forget that it might seem strange in your eyes. It has always been
the custom for the Asika to do as I did at feasts and sacrifices, but
perhaps that is not the fashion among your women; perhaps they always
remain veiled, as I have heard the worshippers of the Prophet do, and
therefore you thought me immodest. I am very, very sorry, Vernoon. I
pray you to forgive me who am ignorant and only do what I have been
taught."
"Yes, they always remain veiled," stammered Alan, though he was not
referring to their faces, and as the words passed his lips he wondered
what the Asika would think if she could see a ballet at a London
music-hall.
"Is there anything else wrong?" she went on gently. "If so, tell me
that I may set it right."
"I do not like cruelty or sacrifices, O Asika. I have told you that
bloodshed is /orunda/ to me, and at the feast those men were poisoned
and you mocked them in their pain; also many others were taken away to
be killed for no crime."
She opened her beautiful eyes and stared at him, answering:
"But, Vernoon, all this is not my fault; they were sacrifices to the
gods, and if I did not sacrifice, I should be sacrificed by the
priests and wizards who live to sacrifice. Yes, myself I should be
made to drink the poison and be mocked at while I died like a snake
with a broken back. Or even if I escaped the vengeance of the people,
the gods themselves would kill me and raise up another in my place. Do
they not sacrifice in your country, Vernoon?"
"No, Asika, they fight if necessary and kill those who commit murder.
But they have no fetish that asks for blood, and the law they have
from heaven is a law of mercy."
She stared at him again.
"All this is strange to me," she said. "I was taught otherwise. Gods
are devils and must be appeased, lest they bring misfortune on us; men
must be ruled by terror, or they would rebel and pull down the great
House; doctors must learn magic, or how could they avert spells?
wizards must be killed, or the people would perish in their net. May
not we who live in a hell, strive to beat back its flame with the
wisdom our forefathers have handed on to us? Tell me, Vernoon, for I
would know."
"You make your own hell," answered Alan when with the help of Jeekie
he understood her talk.
She pondered over his words for a while, then said:
"I must think. The thing is big. I wander in blackness; I will speak
with you again. Say now, what else is wrong with me?"
Now Alan thought that he saw opportunity for a word in season and made
a great mistake.
"I think that you treat your husband, that man whom you call Mungana,
very badly. Why should you drive him to his death?"
At these words the Asika leapt up in a rage, and seeking something to
vent her temper on, violently boxed Jeekie's ears and kicked him with
her sandalled foot.
"The Mungana!" she exclaimed, "that beast! What have I to do with him?
I hate him, as I hated the others. The priests thrust him on me. He
has had his day, let him go. In your country do they make women live
with men whom they loathe? I love /you/, Bonsa himself knows why?
Perhaps because you have a white skin and white thoughts. But I hate
that man. What is the use of being Asika if I cannot take what I love
and reject what I hate? Go away, Vernoon, go away, you have angered
me, and if it were not for what you have said about that new law of
mercy, I think that I would cut your throat," and again she boxed
Jeekie's ears and kicked him in the shins.
Alan rose and bowed himself towards the door while she stood with her
back towards him, sobbing. As he was about to pass it she wheeled
round, wiping the tears from her eyes with her hand, and said:
"I forgot, I sent for you to thank you for your presents; that," and
she pointed to the lion skin, "which they tell me you killed with some
kind of thunder to save the life of that old cannibal, and this," and
she pulled off the necklace of claws, then added, "as I am too bad to
wear it, you had better take it back again," and she threw it with all
her strength straight into Jeekie's face.
Fearing worse things, the much maltreated Jeekie uttered a howl and
bolted through the door, while Alan, picking up the necklace, returned
it to her with a bow. She took it.
"Stop," she said. "You are leaving the room without your mask and my
women are outside. Come here," and she tied the thing upon his head,
setting it all awry, then pushed him from the place.
"Very poor joke, Major, very poor indeed," said Jeekie when they had
reached their own apartment. "Lady make love to /you/; /you/ play prig
and lecture lady about holy customs of her country and she box /my/
ear till head sing, also kick me all over and throw sharp claws in
face. Please you do it no more. The next time, who knows? she stick
knife in /my/ gizzard, then kiss /you/ afterward and say she so sorry
and hope she no hurt /you/. But how that help poor departed Jeekie who
get all kicks, while you have ha'pence?"
"Oh! be quiet," said Alan; "you are welcome to the halfpence if you
would only leave me the kicks. The question is, how am I to get out of
this mess? While she was a beautiful savage devil, one could deal with
the thing, but if she is going to become human it is another matter."
Jeekie looked at him with pity in his eyes.
"Always thought white man mad at bottom," he said, shaking his big
head. "To benighted black nigger thing so very simple. All you got to
do, make love and cut when you get chance. Then she pleased as Punch,
everything go smooth and Jeekie get no more kicks. Christian religion
business very good, but won't wash in Asiki-land. Your reverend uncle
find out that."
Not wishing to pursue the argument, Alan changed the subject by asking
his indignant retainer if he thought that the Asika had meant what she
said when she offered to send the gold down to the coast.
"Why not, Major? That good lady always mean what she say, and what she
do too," and he dabbed wrathfully at the scratches made by the lion's
claws on his face, then added, "She know her own mind, not like
shilly-shally, see-saw white woman, who get up one thing and go to bed
another. If she love she love, if she hate she hate. If she say she
send gold, she send it, though pity to part with all that cash,
because 'spect someone bag it."
Alan reflected a while.
"Don't you see, Jeekie, that here is a chance, if a very small one, of
getting a message to the coast. Also it is quite clear that if we are
ever able to escape, it will be impossible for us to carry this heavy
stuff, whereas if we send it on ahead, perhaps some of it might get
through. We will pack it up, Jeekie, at any rate it will be something
to do. Go now and send a message to the Asika, and ask her to let us
have some carpenters, and a lot of well-seasoned wood."
The message was sent and an hour later a dozen of the native craftsmen
arrived with their rude tools and a supply of planks cut from a kind
of iron-wood or ebony tree. They prostrated themselves to Alan, then
the master of them rising, instantly began to measure Jeekie with a
marked reed. That worthy sprang back and asked what in the name of
Bonsa, Big and Little, they were doing, whereon the man explained with
humility that the Asika had said that she thought the white lord
wanted the wood to make a box to bury his servant in, as he, the said
servant, had offended her that morning, and doubtless the white lord
wished to kill him on that account, or perhaps to put him away under
ground alive.
"Oh, my golly!" said Jeekie, shaking till his great knees knocked
together, "oh! my golly! here pretty go. She think you want bury me
all alive. That mean she want to be rid of Jeekie, because he got sit
there and play gooseberry when she wish talk alone with you. Oh, yes!
I see her little game."
"Well, Jeekie," said Alan, bursting into such a roar of laughter that
he nearly shook off his mask, "you had better be careful, for you just
told me that the Asika is not like a see-saw white woman and never
changes her mind. Say to this man that he must tell the Asika there is
a mistake, and that however much I should like to oblige her, I can't
bury you because it has been prophesied to me that on the day you are
buried, I shall be buried also, and that therefore you must be kept
alive."
"Capital notion that, Major," said Jeekie, much relieved. "She not
want bury you just at present; next year perhaps, but not now. I tell
him." And he did with much vigour.
This slight misconception having been disposed of, they explained to
the carpenters what was wanted. First, all the gold was emptied out of
the sacks in which it remained as the priests had brought it, and
divided into heaps, each of which weighed about forty pounds, a weight
that with its box Alan considered would be a good load for a porter.
Of these heaps there proved to be fifty-three, their total value, Alan
reckoned, amounting to about £100,000 sterling. Then the carpenters
were set to work to make a model box, which they did quickly enough
and with great ingenuity, cutting the wood with their native saws,
dovetailing it as a civilized craftsman would do, and finally securing
it everywhere with ebony pegs, driven into holes which they bored with
a hot iron. The result was a box that would stand any amount of rough
usage and when finally pegged down, one that could only be opened with
a hammer and a cold chisel.
This box-making went on for two whole days. As each of them was filled
and pegged down, the gold within being packed in sawdust to keep it
from rattling, Alan amused himself in adding an address with a feather
brush and a supply of red paint such as the Asiki priests used to
decorate their bodies. At first he was puzzled to know what address to
put, but finally decided upon the following:
/Major A. Vernon, care of Miss Champers, The Court, near Kingswell,
England./ Adding in the corner, /From A. V., Asiki Land, Africa./
It was all childish enough, he knew, yet when it was done he regarded
his handiwork with a sort of satisfaction. For, reflected Alan, if but
one of those boxes should chance to get through to England, it would
tell Barbara a great deal, and if it were addressed to himself, her
uncle could scarcely dare to take possession of it.
Then he bethought him of sending a letter, but was obliged to abandon
the idea, as he had neither pen, pencil, ink, nor paper left to him.
Whatever arts remained to them, that of any form of writing was now
totally unknown to the Asiki, although marks that might be writing, it
will be remembered, did appear on the inner side of the Little Bonsa
mask, an evidence of its great antiquity. Even in the days when they
had wrapped up the Egyptian, the Roman, and other early Munganas in
sheets of gold and set them in their treasure-house, apparently they
had no knowledge of it, for not even an hieroglyph or a rune appeared
upon the imperishable metal shrouds. Since that time they had
evidently decreased, not advanced, in learning till at the present
day, except for these relics and some dim and meaningless survival of
rites that once had been religious and were still offered to the same
ancient idols, there was little to distinguish them from other tribes
of Central African savages. Still Alan did something, for obtaining a
piece of white wood, which he smoothed as well as he was able with a
knife, he painted on it this message:
"Messrs. Aston, Old Calabar. Please forward accompanying fifty-three
packages, or as many as arrive, and cable as follows (all costs will
be remitted): Miss Champers, Kingswell, England. Prisoner among Asiki.
No present prospect of escape, but hope for best. Jeekie and I well.
Allowed send this, but perhaps no future message possible. Good-bye.
Alan."
As it happened just as Alan was finishing this scrawl with a sad
heart, he heard a movement and glancing up, perceived standing at his
side the Asika, of whom he had seen nothing since the interview when
she had beaten Jeekie:
"What are those marks that you make upon the board, Vernoon?" she
asked suspiciously.
With the assistance of Jeekie, who kept at a respectful distance, he
informed her that they were a message in writing to tell the white men
at the coast to forward the gold to his starving family.
"Oh!" she said, "I never heard of writing. You shall teach it me. It
will serve to pass the time till we are married, though it will not be
of much use afterwards, as we shall never be separated any more and
words are better than marks upon a board. But," she added cheerfully,
"I can send away this black dog of yours," and she looked at Jeekie,
"and he can write to us. No, I cannot, for an accident might happen to
him, and they tell me you say that if he dies, you die also, so he
must stop here always. What have you in those little boxes?"
"The gold you gave me, Asika, packed in loads."
"A small gift enough," she answered contemptuously; "would you not
like more, since you value that stuff? Well, another time you shall
send all you want. Meanwhile the porters are waiting, fifty men and
three, as you sent me word, and ten spare ones to take the place of
any who die. But how they will find their way, I know not, since none
of them have ever been to the coast."
An idea occurred to Alan, who had small faith in Jeekie's "ma" as a
messenger.
"The Ogula prisoners could show them," he said; "at any rate as far as
the forest, and after that they could find out. May they not go,
Asika?"
"If you will," she answered carelessly. "Let them be ready to start
to-morrow at the dawn, all except their chief, Fahni, who must stop
here as a hostage. I do not trust those Ogula, who more than once have
threatened to make war upon us," she added, then turned and bade the
priests bring in the bearers to receive their instructions.
Presently they came, picked men all of them, under the command of an
Asiki captain, and with them the Ogula, whom she summoned also.
"Go where the white lord sends you," she said in an indifferent voice,
"carrying with you these packages. I do not know where it is, but
these man-eaters will show you some of the way, and if you fail in the
business but live to come back again, you shall be sacrificed to Bonsa
at the next feast; if you run away then your wives and children will
be sacrificed. Food shall be given you for your journey, and gold to
buy more when it is gone. Now, Vernoon, tell them what they have to
do."
So Alan, or rather Jeekie, told them, and these directions were so
long and minute, that before they were finished the Asika grew tired
of listening and went away, saying as she passed the captain of the
company:
"Remember my words, man, succeed or die, but of your land and its
secrets say nothing."
"I hear," answered the captain, prostrating himself.
That night Alan summoned the Ogula and spoke to them through Jeekie in
their own language. At first they declared that they would not leave
their chief, preferring to stay and die with him.
"Not so," said Fahni; "go, my children, that I may live. Go and gather
the tribe, all the thousands of them who are men and can fight, and
bring them up to attack Asiki-land, to rescue me if I still live, or
to avenge me if I am dead. As for these bearers, do them no harm, but
send them on to the coast with the white man's goods."
So in the end the Ogula said that they would go, and when Alan woke up
on the following morning, he was informed that they and the Asiki
porters had already departed upon their journey. Then he dismissed the
matter from his mind, for to tell the truth he never expected to hear
of them any more.
