CHAPTER XII.

THE SISTER QUEENS

The big rowing-boat glided on up the cutting that ran almost to the

foot of the vast stairway, and then halted at a flight of steps leading

to the landing-place. Here the old gentleman disembarked, and invited

us to do so likewise, which, having no alternative, and being nearly

starved, we did without hesitation—taking our rifles with us, however.

As each of us landed, our guide again laid his fingers on his lips and

bowed deeply, at the same time ordering back the crowds which had

assembled to gaze on us. The last to leave the canoe was the girl we

had picked out of the water, for whom her companion was waiting. Before

she went away she kissed my hand, I suppose as a token of gratitude for

having saved her from the fury of the hippopotamus; and it seemed to me

that she had by this time quite got over any fear she might have had of

us, and was by no means anxious to return in such a hurry to her lawful

owners. At any rate, she was going to kiss Good’s hand as well as mine,

when the young man interfered and led her off. As soon as we were on

shore, a number of the men who had rowed the big boat took possession

of our few goods and chattels, and started with them up the splendid

staircase, our guide indicating to us by means of motions that the

things were perfectly safe. This done, he turned to the right and led

the way to a small house, which was, as I afterwards discovered, an

inn. Entering into a good-sized room, we saw that a wooden table was

already furnished with food, presumably in preparation for us. Here our

guide motioned us to be seated on a bench that ran the length of the

table. We did not require a second invitation, but at once fell to

ravenously on the viands before us, which were served on wooden

platters, and consisted of cold goat’s-flesh, wrapped up in some kind

of leaf that gave it a delicious flavour, green vegetables resembling

lettuces, brown bread, and red wine poured from a skin into horn mugs.

This wine was peculiarly soft and good, having something of the flavour

of Burgundy. Twenty minutes after we sat down at that hospitable board

we rose from it, feeling like new men. After all that we had gone

through we needed two things, food and rest, and the food of itself was

a great blessing to us. Two girls of the same charming cast of face as

the first whom we had seen waited on us while we ate, and very nicely

they did it. They were also dressed in the same fashion namely, in a

white linen petticoat coming to the knee, and with the toga-like

garment of brown cloth, leaving bare the right arm and breast. I

afterwards found out that this was the national dress, and regulated by

an iron custom, though of course subject to variations. Thus, if the

petticoat was pure white, it signified that the wearer was unmarried;

if white, with a straight purple stripe round the edge, that she was

married and a first or legal wife; if with a black stripe, that she was

a widow. In the same way the toga, or “kaf”, as they call it, was of

different shades of colour, from pure white to the deepest brown,

according to the rank of the wearer, and embroidered at the end in

various ways. This also applies to the “shirts” or tunics worn by the

men, which varied in material and colour; but the kilts were always the

same except as regards quality. One thing, however, every man and woman

in the country wore as the national insignia, and that was the thick

band of gold round the right arm above the elbow, and the left leg

beneath the knee. People of high rank also wore a torque of gold round

the neck, and I observed that our guide had one on.

So soon as we had finished our meal our venerable conductor, who had

been standing all the while, regarding us with inquiring eyes, and our

guns with something as like fear as his pride would allow him to show,

bowed towards Good, whom he evidently took for the leader of the party

on account of the splendour of his apparel, and once more led the way

through the door and to the foot of the great staircase. Here we paused

for a moment to admire two colossal lions, each hewn from a single

block of pure black marble, and standing rampant on the terminations of

the wide balustrades of the staircase. These lions are magnificently

executed, and it is said were sculptured by Rademas, the great prince

who designed the staircase, and who was without doubt, to judge from

the many beautiful examples of his art that we saw afterwards, one of

the finest sculptors who ever lived, either in this or any other

country. Then we climbed almost with a feeling of awe up that splendid

stair, a work executed for all time and that will, I do not doubt, be

admired thousands of years hence by generations unborn unless an

earthquake should throw it down. Even Umslopogaas, who as a general

rule made it a point of honour not to show astonishment, which he

considered undignified, was fairly startled out of himself, and asked

if the “bridge had been built by men or devils”, which was his vague

way of alluding to any supernatural power. But Alphonse did not care

about it. Its solid grandeur jarred upon the frivolous little

Frenchman, who said that it was all “tres magnifique, mais triste—ah,

triste!” and went on to suggest that it would be improved if the

balustrades were _gilt_.

On we went up the first flight of one hundred and twenty steps, across

the broad platform joining it to the second flight, where we paused to

admire the glorious view of one of the most beautiful stretches of

country that the world can show, edged by the blue waters of the lake.

Then we passed on up the stair till at last we reached the top, where

we found a large standing space to which there were three entrances,

all of small size. Two of these opened on to rather narrow galleries or

roadways cut in the face of the precipice that ran round the palace

walls and led to the principal thoroughfares of the city, and were used

by the inhabitants passing up and down from the docks. These were

defended by gates of bronze, and also, as we afterwards learnt, it was

possible to let down a portion of the roadways themselves by

withdrawing certain bolts, and thus render it quite impracticable for

an enemy to pass. The third entrance consisted of a flight of ten

curved black marble steps leading to a doorway cut in the palace wall.

This wall was in itself a work of art, being built of huge blocks of

granite to the height of forty feet, and so fashioned that its face was

concave, whereby it was rendered practically impossible for it to be

scaled. To this doorway our guide led us. The door, which was massive,

and made of wood protected by an outer gate of bronze, was closed; but

on our approach it was thrown wide, and we were met by the challenge of

a sentry, who was armed with a heavy triangular-bladed spear, not

unlike a bayonet in shape, and a cutting sword, and protected by breast

and back plates of skilfully prepared hippopotamus hide, and a small

round shield fashioned of the same tough material. The sword instantly

attracted our attention; it was practically identical with the one in

the possession of Mr Mackenzie which he had obtained from the

ill-starred wanderer. There was no mistaking the gold-lined fretwork

cut in the thickness of the blade. So the man had told the truth after

all. Our guide instantly gave a password, which the soldier

acknowledged by letting the iron shaft of his spear fall with a ringing

sound upon the pavement, and we passed on through the massive wall into

the courtyard of the palace. This was about forty yards square, and

laid out in flower-beds full of lovely shrubs and plants, many of which

were quite new to me. Through the centre of this garden ran a broad

walk formed of powdered shells brought from the lake in the place of

gravel. Following this we came to another doorway with a round heavy

arch, which is hung with thick curtains, for there are no doors in the

palace itself. Then came another short passage, and we were in the

great hall of the palace, and once more stood astonished at the simple

and yet overpowering grandeur of the place.

The hall is, as we afterwards learnt, one hundred and fifty feet long

by eighty wide, and has a magnificent arched roof of carved wood. Down

the entire length of the building there are on either side, and at a

distance of twenty feet from the wall, slender shafts of black marble

springing sheer to the roof, beautifully fluted, and with carved

capitals. At one end of this great place which these pillars support is

the group of which I have already spoken as executed by the King

Rademas to commemorate his building of the staircase; and really, when

we had time to admire it, its loveliness almost struck us dumb. The

group, of which the figures are in white, and the rest is black marble,

is about half as large again as life, and represents a young man of

noble countenance and form sleeping heavily upon a couch. One arm is

carelessly thrown over the side of this couch, and his head reposes

upon the other, its curling locks partially hiding it. Bending over

him, her hand resting on his forehead, is a draped female form of such

white loveliness as to make the beholder’s breath stand still. And as

for the calm glory that shines upon her perfect face—well, I can never

hope to describe it. But there it rests like the shadow of an angel’s

smile; and power, love, and divinity all have their part in it. Her

eyes are fixed upon the sleeping youth, and perhaps the most

extraordinary thing about this beautiful work is the success with which

the artist has succeeded in depicting on the sleeper’s worn and weary

face the sudden rising of a new and spiritual thought as the spell

begins to work within his mind. You can see that an inspiration is

breaking in upon the darkness of the man’s soul as the dawn breaks in

upon the darkness of night. It is a glorious piece of statuary, and

none but a genius could have conceived it. Between each of the black

marble columns is some such group of figures, some allegorical, and

some representing the persons and wives of deceased monarchs or great

men; but none of them, in our opinion, comes up to the one I have

described, although several are from the hand of the sculptor and

engineer, King Rademas.

In the exact centre of the hall was a solid mass of black marble about

the size of a baby’s arm-chair, which it rather resembled in

appearance. This, as we afterwards learnt, was the sacred stone of this

remarkable people, and on it their monarchs laid their hand after the

ceremony of coronation, and swore by the sun to safeguard the interests

of the empire, and to maintain its customs, traditions, and laws. This

stone was evidently exceedingly ancient (as indeed all stones are), and

was scored down its sides with long marks or lines, which Sir Henry

said proved it to have been a fragment that at some remote period in

its history had been ground in the iron jaws of glaciers. There was a

curious prophecy about this block of marble, which was reported among

the people to have fallen from the sun, to the effect that when it was

shattered into fragments a king of alien race should rule over the

land. As the stone, however, looked remarkably solid, the native

princes seemed to have a fair chance of keeping their own for many a

long year.

At the end of the hall is a dais spread with rich carpets, on which two

thrones are set side by side. These thrones are shaped like great

chairs, and made of solid gold. The seats are richly cushioned, but the

backs are left bare, and on each is carved the emblem of the sun,

shooting out his fiery rays in all directions. The footstools are

golden lions couchant, with yellow topazes set in them for eyes. There

are no other gems about them.

The place is lighted by numerous but narrow windows, placed high up,

cut on the principle of the loopholes to be seen in ancient castles,

but innocent of glass, which was evidently unknown here.

Such is a brief description of this splendid hall in which we now found

ourselves, compiled of course from our subsequent knowledge of it. On

this occasion we had but little time for observation, for when we

entered we perceived that a large number of men were gathered together

in front of the two thrones, which were unoccupied. The principal among

them were seated on carved wooden chairs ranged to the right and the

left of the thrones, but not in front of them, and were dressed in

white tunics, with various embroideries and different coloured edgings,

and armed with the usual pierced and gold-inlaid swords. To judge from

the dignity of their appearance, they seemed one and all to be

individuals of very great importance. Behind each of these great men

stood a small knot of followers and attendants.

Seated by themselves, in a little group to the left of the throne, were

six men of a different stamp. Instead of wearing the ordinary kilt,

they were clothed in long robes of pure white linen, with the same

symbol of the sun that is to be seen on the back of the chairs,

emblazoned in gold thread upon the breast. This garment was girt up at

the waist with a simple golden curb-like chain, from which hung long

elliptic plates of the same metal, fashioned in shiny scales like those

of a fish, that, as their wearers moved, jingled and reflected the

light. They were all men of mature age and of a severe and impressive

cast of features, which was rendered still more imposing by the long

beards they wore.

The personality of one individual among them, however, impressed us at

once. He seemed to stand out among his fellows and refuse to be

overlooked. He was very old—eighty at least—and extremely tall, with a

long snow-white beard that hung nearly to his waist. His features were

aquiline and deeply cut, and his eyes were grey and cold-looking. The

heads of the others were bare, but this man wore a round cap entirely

covered with gold embroidery, from which we judged that he was a person

of great importance; and indeed we afterwards discovered that he was

Agon, the High Priest of the country. As we approached, all these men,

including the priests, rose and bowed to us with the greatest courtesy,

at the same time placing the two fingers across the lips in salutation.

Then soft-footed attendants advanced from between the pillars, bearing

seats, which were placed in a line in front of the thrones. We three

sat down, Alphonse and Umslopogaas standing behind us. Scarcely had we

done so when there came a blare of trumpets from some passage to the

right, and a similar blare from the left. Next a man with a long white

wand of ivory appeared just in front of the right-hand throne, and

cried out something in a loud voice, ending with the word _Nyleptha_,

repeated three times; and another man, similarly attired, called out a

similar sentence before the other throne, but ending with the word

_Sorais_, also repeated thrice. Then came the tramp of armed men from

each side entrance, and in filed about a score of picked and

magnificently accoutred guards, who formed up on each side of the

thrones, and let their heavy iron-handled spears fall simultaneously

with a clash upon the black marble flooring. Another double blare of

trumpets, and in from either side, each attended by six maidens, swept

the two Queens of Zu-Vendis, everybody in the hall rising to greet them

as they came.

I have seen beautiful women in my day, and am no longer thrown into

transports at the sight of a pretty face; but language fails me when I

try to give some idea of the blaze of loveliness that then broke upon

us in the persons of these sister Queens. Both were young—perhaps

five-and-twenty years of age—both were tall and exquisitely formed; but

there the likeness stopped. One, Nyleptha, was a woman of dazzling

fairness; her right arm and breast bare, after the custom of her

people, showed like snow even against her white and gold-embroidered

“kaf”, or toga. And as for her sweet face, all I can say is, that it

was one that few men could look on and forget. Her hair, a veritable

crown of gold, clustered in short ringlets over her shapely head, half

hiding the ivory brow, beneath which eyes of deep and glorious grey

flashed out in tender majesty. I cannot attempt to describe her other

features, only the mouth was most sweet, and curved like Cupid’s bow,

and over the whole countenance there shone an indescribable look of

loving-kindness, lit up by a shadow of delicate humour that lay upon

her face like a touch of silver on a rosy cloud.

She wore no jewels, but on her neck, arm, and knee were the usual

torques of gold, in this instance fashioned like a snake; and her dress

was of pure white linen of excessive fineness, plentifully embroidered

with gold and with the familiar symbols of the sun.

Her twin sister, Sorais, was of a different and darker type of beauty.

Her hair was wavy like Nyleptha’s but coal-black, and fell in masses on

her shoulders; her complexion was olive, her eyes large, dark, and

lustrous; the lips were full, and I thought rather cruel. Somehow her

face, quiet and even cold as it is, gave an idea of passion in repose,

and caused one to wonder involuntarily what its aspect would be if

anything occurred to break the calm. It reminded me of the deep sea,

that even on the bluest days never loses its visible stamp of power,

and in its murmuring sleep is yet instinct with the spirit of the

storm. Her figure, like her sister’s, was almost perfect in its curves

and outlines, but a trifle more rounded, and her dress was absolutely

the same.

As this lovely pair swept onwards to their respective thrones, amid the

deep attentive silence of the Court, I was bound to confess to myself

that they did indeed fulfil my idea of royalty. Royal they were in

every way—in form, in grace, and queenly dignity, and in the barbaric

splendour of their attendant pomp. But methought that they needed no

guards or gold to proclaim their power and bind the loyalty of wayward

men. A glance from those bright eyes or a smile from those sweet lips,

and while the red blood runs in the veins of youth women such as these

will never lack subjects ready to do their biddings to the death.

But after all they were women first and queens afterwards, and

therefore not devoid of curiosity. As they passed to their seats I saw

both of them glance swiftly in our direction. I saw, too, that their

eyes passed by me, seeing nothing to charm them in the person of an

insignificant and grizzled old man. Then they looked with evident

astonishment on the grim form of old Umslopogaas, who raised his axe in

salutation. Attracted next by the splendour of Good’s apparel, for a

second their glance rested on him like a humming moth upon a flower,

then off it darted to where Sir Henry Curtis stood, the sunlight from a

window playing upon his yellow hair and peaked beard, and marking the

outlines of his massive frame against the twilight of the somewhat

gloomy hall. He raised his eyes, and they met the fair Nyleptha’s full,

and thus for the first time the goodliest man and woman that it has

ever been my lot to see looked one upon another. And why it was I know

not, but I saw the swift blood run up Nyleptha’s skin as the pink

lights run up the morning sky. Red grew her fair bosom and shapely arm,

red the swanlike neck; the rounded cheeks blushed red as the petals of

a rose, and then the crimson flood sank back to whence it came and left

her pale and trembling.

I glanced at Sir Henry. He, too, had coloured up to the eyes.

“Oh, my word!” thought I to myself, “the ladies have come on the stage,

and now we may look to the plot to develop itself.” And I sighed and

shook my head, knowing that the beauty of a woman is like the beauty of

the lightning—a destructive thing and a cause of desolation. By the

time that I had finished my reflections both the Queens were on the

thrones, for all this had happened in about six seconds. Once more the

unseen trumpets blared out, and then the Court seated itself, and Queen

Sorais motioned to us to do likewise.

Next from among the crowd whither he had withdrawn stepped forward our

guide, the old gentleman who had towed us ashore, holding by the hand

the girl whom we had seen first and afterwards rescued from the

hippopotamus. Having made obeisance he proceeded to address the Queens,

evidently describing to them the way and place where we had been found.

It was most amusing to watch the astonishment, not unmixed with fear,

reflected upon their faces as they listened to his tale. Clearly they

could not understand how we had reached the lake and been found

floating on it, and were inclined to attribute our presence to

supernatural causes. Then the narrative proceeded, as I judged from the

frequent appeals that our guide made to the girl, to the point where we

had shot the hippopotami, and we at once perceived that there was

something very wrong about those hippopotami, for the history was

frequently interrupted by indignant exclamations from the little group

of white-robed priests and even from the courtiers, while the two

Queens listened with an amazed expression, especially when our guide

pointed to the rifles in our hands as being the means of destruction.

And here, to make matters clear, I may as well explain at once that the

inhabitants of Zu-Vendis are sun-worshippers, and that for some reason

or another the hippopotamus is sacred among them. Not that they do not

kill it, because at a certain season of the year they slaughter

thousands—which are specially preserved in large lakes up the

country—and use their hides for armour for soldiers; but this does not

prevent them from considering these animals as sacred to the sun.[12]

Now, as ill luck would have it, the particular hippopotami we had shot

were a family of tame animals that were kept in the mouth of the port

and daily fed by priests whose special duty it was to attend to them.

When we shot them I thought that the brutes were suspiciously tame, and

this was, as we afterwards ascertained, the cause of it. Thus it came

about that in attempting to show off we had committed sacrilege of a

most aggravated nature.

[12] Mr Quatermain does not seem to have been aware that it is common

for animal-worshipping people to annually sacrifice the beasts they

adore. See Herodotus, ii. 45.—Editor.

When our guide had finished his tale, the old man with the long beard

and round cap, whose appearance I have already described, and who was,

as I have said, the High Priest of the country, and known by the name

of Agon, rose and commenced an impassioned harangue. I did not like the

look of his cold grey eye as he fixed it on us. I should have liked it

still less had I known that in the name of the outraged majesty of his

god he was demanding that the whole lot of us should be offered up as a

sacrifice by means of being burnt alive.

After he had finished speaking the Queen Sorais addressed him in a soft

and musical voice, and appeared, to judge from his gestures of dissent,

to be putting the other side of the question before him. Then Nyleptha

spoke in liquid accents. Little did we know that she was pleading for

our lives. Finally, she turned and addressed a tall, soldierlike man of

middle age with a black beard and a long plain sword, whose name, as we

afterwards learnt, was Nasta, and who was the greatest lord in the

country; apparently appealing to him for support. Now when Sir Henry

had caught her eye and she had blushed so rosy red, I had seen that the

incident had not escaped this man’s notice, and, what is more, that it

was eminently disagreeable to him, for he bit his lip and his hand

tightened on his sword-hilt. Afterwards we learnt that he was an

aspirant for the hand of this Queen in marriage, which accounted for

it. This being so, Nyleptha could not have appealed to a worse person,

for, speaking in slow, heavy tones, he appeared to confirm all that the

High Priest Agon had said. As he spoke, Sorais put her elbow on her

knee, and, resting her chin on her hand, looked at him with a

suppressed smile upon her lips, as though she saw through the man, and

was determined to be his match; but Nyleptha grew very angry, her cheek

flushed, her eyes flashed, and she did indeed look lovely. Finally she

turned to Agon and seemed to give some sort of qualified assent, for he

bowed at her words; and as she spoke she moved her hands as though to

emphasize what she said; while all the time Sorais kept her chin on her

hand and smiled. Then suddenly Nyleptha made a sign, the trumpets blew

again, and everybody rose to leave the hall save ourselves and the

guards, whom she motioned to stay.

When they were all gone she bent forward and, smiling sweetly,

partially by signs and partially by exclamations made it clear to us

that she was very anxious to know where we came from. The difficulty

was how to explain, but at last an idea struck me. I had my large

pocket-book in my pocket and a pencil. Taking it out, I made a little

sketch of a lake, and then as best I could I drew the underground river

and the lake at the other end. When I had done this I advanced to the

steps of the throne and gave it to her. She understood it at once and

clapped her hands with delight, and then descending from the throne

took it to her sister Sorais, who also evidently understood. Next she

took the pencil from me, and after examining it with curiosity

proceeded to make a series of delightful little sketches, the first

representing herself holding out both hands in welcome, and a man

uncommonly like Sir Henry taking them. Next she drew a lovely little

picture of a hippopotamus rolling about dying in the water, and of an

individual, in whom we had no difficulty in recognizing Agon the High

Priest, holding up his hands in horror on the bank. Then followed a

most alarming picture of a dreadful fiery furnace and of the same

figure, Agon, poking us into it with a forked stick. This picture

perfectly horrified me, but I was a little reassured when she nodded

sweetly and proceeded to make a fourth drawing—a man again uncommonly

like Sir Henry, and of two women, in whom I recognized Sorais and

herself, each with one arm around him, and holding a sword in

protection over him. To all of these Sorais, who I saw was employed in

carefully taking us all in—especially Curtis—signified her approval by

nodding.

At last Nyleptha drew a final sketch of a rising sun, indicating that

she must go, and that we should meet on the following morning; whereat

Sir Henry looked so disappointed that she saw it, and, I suppose by way

of consolation, extended her hand to him to kiss, which he did with

pious fervour. At the same time Sorais, off whom Good had never taken

his eyeglass during the whole indaba [interview], rewarded him by

giving him her hand to kiss, though, while she did so, her eyes were

fixed upon Sir Henry. I am glad to say that I was not implicated in

these proceedings; neither of them gave _me_ her hand to kiss.

Then Nyleptha turned and addressed the man who appeared to be in

command of the bodyguard, apparently from her manner and his frequent

obeisances, giving him very stringent and careful orders; after which,

with a somewhat coquettish nod and smile, she left the hall, followed

by Sorais and most of the guards.

When the Queens had gone, the officer whom Nyleptha had addressed came

forward and with many tokens of deep respect led us from the hall

through various passages to a sumptuous set of apartments opening out

of a large central room lighted with brazen swinging lamps (for it was

now dusk) and richly carpeted and strewn with couches. On a table in

the centre of the room was set a profusion of food and fruit, and, what

is more, flowers. There was a delicious wine also in ancient-looking

sealed earthenware flagons, and beautifully chased golden and ivory

cups to drink it from. Servants, male and female, also were there to

minister to us, and whilst we ate, from some recess outside the

apartment

“The silver lute did speak between

The trumpet’s lordly blowing;”

and altogether we found ourselves in a sort of earthly paradise which

was only disturbed by the vision of that disgusting High Priest who

intended to commit us to the flames. But so very weary were we with our

labours that we could scarcely keep ourselves awake through the

sumptuous meal, and as soon as it was over we indicated that we desired

to sleep. As a further precaution against surprise we left Umslopogaas

with his axe to sleep in the main chamber near the curtained doorways

leading to the apartments which we occupied respectively, Good and I in

the one, and Sir Henry and Alphonse in the other. Then throwing off our

clothes, with the exception of the mail shirts, which we considered it

safer to keep on, we flung ourselves down upon the low and luxurious

couches, and drew the silk-embroidered coverlids over us.

In two minutes I was just dropping off when I was aroused by Good’s

voice.

“I say, Quatermain,” he said, “did you ever see such eyes?”

“Eyes!” I said, crossly; “what eyes?”

“Why, the Queen’s, of course! Sorais, I mean—at least I think that is

her name.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I yawned; “I didn’t notice them much: I suppose

they are good eyes,” and again I dropped off.

Five minutes or so elapsed, and I was once more awakened.

“I say, Quatermain,” said the voice.

“Well,” I answered testily, “what is it now?”

“Did you notice her ankle? The shape—”

This was more than I could stand. By my bed stood the veldtschoons I

had been wearing. Moved quite beyond myself, I took them up and threw

them straight at Good’s head—and hit it.

Afterwards I slept the sleep of the just, and a very heavy sleep it

must be. As for Good, I don’t know if he went to sleep or if he

continued to pass Sorais’ beauties in mental review, and, what is more,

I don’t care.