<h2><SPAN name="chap09"></SPAN>CHAPTER IX.<br/> THE SWEARING OF THE OATH</h2>
<p>Two or three days after this conversation, I forget exactly which it was,
Maqueda held her council in the great hall of the palace. When we entered the
place in charge of a guard, as though we were prisoners, we found some hundreds
of Abati gathered there who were seated in orderly rows upon benches. At the
farther end, in an apse-shaped space, sat the Child of Kings herself on a
gilded or perhaps a golden chair of which the arms terminated in lions’
heads. She was dressed in a robe of glittering silver, and wore a ceremonial
veil embroidered with stars, also of silver, and above it, set upon her dark
hair, a little circlet of gold, in which shone a single gem that looked like a
ruby. Thus attired, although her stature is small, her appearance was very
dignified and beautiful, especially as the gossamer veil added mystery to her
face.</p>
<p>Behind the throne stood soldiers armed with spears and swords, and at its sides
and in front of it were gathered her court to the number of a hundred or more,
including her waiting-ladies, who in two companies were arranged to the right
and left. Each member of this court was gorgeously dressed according to his
profession.</p>
<p>There were the generals and captains with Prince Joshua at the head of them in
their Norman-like chain armour. There were judges in black robes and priests in
gorgeous garments; there were territorial lords, of whose attire I remember
only that they wore high boots, and men who were called Market-masters, whose
business it was to regulate the rate of exchange of products, and with them the
representatives of other trades.</p>
<p>In short, here was collected all the aristocracy of the little population of
the town and territory of Mur, every one of whom, as we found afterwards,
possessed some high-sounding title answering to those of our dukes and lords
and Right Honourables, and knights, to say nothing of the Princes of the Blood,
of whom Joshua was the first.</p>
<p>Really, although it looked so fine and gay, the spectacle was, in a sense,
piteous, being evidently but a poor mockery and survival of the pageantry of a
people that had once been great. The vast hall in which they were assembled
showed this, since, although the occasion was one that excited public interest,
it was after all but a quarter filled by those who had a right to be present.</p>
<p>With much dignity and to the sound of music we were marched up the broad nave,
if I may describe it thus, for the building, with its apse and supporting cedar
columns, bore some resemblance to a cathedral, till we reached the open space
in front of the throne, where our guards prostrated themselves in their Eastern
fashion, and we saluted its occupant in our own. Then, chairs having been given
to us, after a pause a trumpet blew, and from a side chamber was produced our
late guide, Shadrach, heavily manacled and looking extremely frightened.</p>
<p>The trial that followed I need not describe at length. It took a long while,
and the three of us were called upon to give evidence as to the quarrel between
our companion, the Professor, and the prisoner about the dog Pharaoh and other
matters. The testimony, however, that proclaimed the guilt of Shadrach was that
of his companion guides, who, it appeared, had been threatened with floggings
unless they told the truth.</p>
<p>These men swore, one after the other, that the abandonment of Higgs had been a
preconceived plan. Several of them added that Shadrach was in traitorous
communication with the Fung, whom he had warned of our advent by firing the
reeds, and had even contrived to arrange that we were to be taken while he and
the other Abati, with the camels laden with our rifles and goods which they
hoped to steal, passed through in safety.</p>
<p>In defence Shadrach boldly denied the whole story, and especially that he had
pushed the Gentile, Higgs, off his dromedary, as was alleged, and mounted it
himself because his own beast had broken down or been injured.</p>
<p>However, his lies availed him little, since, after consultation with the Child
of Kings, presently one of the black-robed judges condemned him to suffer death
in a very cruel fashion which was reserved for traitors. Further, his
possessions were to be forfeited to the State, and his wife and children and
household to become public slaves, which meant that the males would be
condemned to serve as soldiers, and the females allotted to certain officials
in the order of their rank.</p>
<p>Several of those who had conspired with him to betray us to the Fung were also
deprived of their possessions and condemned to the army, which was their form
of penal servitude.</p>
<p>Thus amidst a mighty wailing of those concerned and of their friends and
relatives ended this remarkable trial, of which I give some account because it
throws light upon the social conditions of Abati. What hope is there for a
people when its criminals are sent, not to jail, but to serve as soldiers, and
their womenfolk however innocent, are doomed to become the slaves of the judges
or whoever these may appoint. Be it added, however, that in this instance
Shadrach and his friends deserved all they got, since, even allowing for a
certain amount of false evidence, undoubtedly, for the purposes of robbery and
private hate, they did betray those whom their ruler had sent them to guide and
protect.</p>
<p>When this trial was finished and Shadrach had been removed, howling for mercy
and attempting to kiss our feet like the cur he was, the audience who had
collected to hear it and to see us, the Gentile strangers, dispersed, and the
members of the Privy Council, if I may call it so, were summoned by name to
attend to their duties. When all had gathered, we three were requested to
advance and take seats which had been placed for us among the councillors.</p>
<p>Then came a pause, and, as I had been instructed that I should do, I advanced
and laid Sheba’s ring upon a cushion held by one of the court officers,
who carried it to Maqueda.</p>
<p>“Child of Kings,” I said, “take back this ancient token which
you lent to me to be a proof of your good faith and mine. Know that by means of
it I persuaded our brother who is captive, a man learned in all that has to do
with the past, to undertake this mission, and through him the Captain Orme who
stands before you, and his servant, the soldier.”</p>
<p>She took it and, after examination, showed it to several of the priests, by
whom it was identified.</p>
<p>“Though I parted from it with fear and doubt, the holy ring has served
its purpose well,” she said, “and I thank you, Physician, for
returning it to my people and to me in safety.”</p>
<p>Then she replaced it on the finger from which it had been withdrawn when she
gave it to me many months before.</p>
<p>There, then, that matter ended.</p>
<p>Now an officer cried:</p>
<p>“Walda Nagasta speaks!” whereon every one repeated, “Walda
Nagasta speaks,” and was silent.</p>
<p>Then Maqueda began to address us in her soft and pleasant voice.</p>
<p>“Strangers from the Western country called England,” she said,
“be pleased to hear me. You know our case with the Fung—that they
surround us and would destroy us. You know that in our extremity I took
advantage of the wandering hither of one of you a year ago to beg him to go to
his own land and there obtain firestuffs and those who understand them, with
which to destroy the great and ancient idol of the Fung. For that people
declare that if this idol is destroyed they will leave the land they dwell in
for another, such being their ancient prophecy.”</p>
<p>“Pardon, O Child of Kings,” interrupted Orme, “but you will
remember that only the other day Barung, Sultan of the Fung, said that in this
event his nation would still live on to avenge their god, Harmac. Also he said
that of all the Abati he would leave you alive alone.”</p>
<p>Now at these ill-omened words a shiver and a murmur went through the Council.
But Maqueda only shrugged her shoulders, causing the silver trimmings on her
dress to tinkle.</p>
<p>“I have told you the ancient prophecy,” she answered, “and
for the rest words are not deeds. If the foul fiend, Harmac, goes I think that
the Fung will follow him. Otherwise, why do they make sacrifice to Earthquake
as the evil god they have to fear? And when some five centuries ago, such an
earthquake shook down part of the secret city in the bowels of the mountains
that I will show to you afterwards, why did they fly from Mur and take up their
abode in the plain, as they said, to protect the god?”</p>
<p>“I do not know,” answered Oliver. “If our brother were here,
he whom the Fung have captured, he might know, being learned in the ways of
idol-worshipping, savage peoples.”</p>
<p>“Alas! O Son of Orme,” she said, “thanks to that traitor whom
but now we have condemned, he is not here and, perhaps, could tell us nothing
if he were. At least, the saying runs as I have spoken it, and for many
generations, because of it, we Abati have desired to destroy the idol of the
Fung to which so many of us have been offered in sacrifice through the jaws of
their sacred lions. Now I ask,” and she leaned forward, looking at
Oliver, “will you do this for me?”</p>
<p>“Speak of the reward, my niece,” broke in Joshua in his thick voice
when he saw that we hesitated what to answer, “I have heard that these
Western Gentiles are a very greedy people, who live and die for the gold which
we despise.”</p>
<p>“Ask him, Captain,” exclaimed Quick, “if they despise land
also, since yesterday afternoon I saw one of them try to cut the throat of
another over a piece not bigger than a large dog-kennel.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” I added, for I confess that Joshua’s remarks nettled
me, “and ask him whether the Jews did not despoil the Egyptians of their
ornaments of gold in the old days, and whether Solomon, whom he claims as a
forefather, did not trade in gold to Ophir, and lastly whether he knows that
most of his kindred in other lands make a very god of gold.”</p>
<p>So Orme, as our spokesman, put these questions with great gusto to Joshua, whom
he disliked intensely, whereat some of the Council, those who were not of the
party of the Prince, smiled or even laughed, and the silvery ornaments upon
Maqueda’s dress began to shake again as though she also were laughing
behind her veil. Still, she did not seem to think it wise to allow Joshua to
answer—if he could—but did so herself, saying:</p>
<p>“The truth is, O my friends, that here we set small store by gold
because, being shut in and unable to trade, it is of no use to us save as an
ornament. Were it otherwise, doubtless we should value it as much as the rest
of the world, Jew or Gentile, and shall do so when we are freed from our foes
who hem us in. Therefore, my uncle is wrong to claim as a virtue that which is
only a necessity, especially when, as your servant says,” and she pointed
to the Sergeant, “our people make land their gold and will spend their
lives in gaining more of it, even when they have enough.”</p>
<p>“Then do the Gentiles seek no reward for their services?” sneered
Joshua.</p>
<p>“By no means, Prince,” answered Oliver, “we are soldiers of
fortune, since otherwise why should we have come here to fight your
quarrel” (laying an unpleasant emphasis on the “your”)
“against a chief who, if half savage, to us seems to have some merits,
those of honour and courage, for instance? If we risk our lives and do our
work, we are not too proud to take whatever we can earn. Why should we be,
seeing that some of us need wealth, and that our brother, who is as good as
dead yonder, owing to the treachery of those who were sent to guard him, has
relatives in England who are poor and should be compensated for his loss?”</p>
<p>“Why, indeed?” ejaculated Maqueda. “Listen, now, my friends.
In my own name and in that of the Abati people I promised to you as many
camel-loads of this gold as you can carry away from Mur, and before the day is
done I will show it to you if you dare follow me to where it lies hid.”</p>
<p>“First the work, then the pay,” said Oliver. “Now tell us,
Child of Kings, what is that work?”</p>
<p>“This, O Son of Orme. You must swear—if this is not against your
consciences as Christians—that for the space of one year from to-day you
will serve me and fight for me and be subject to my laws, striving all the
while to destroy the idol Harmac by your Western skill and weapons, after which
you shall be free to go whither you will with your reward.”</p>
<p>“And if we swear, Lady,” asked Oliver after reflection, “tell
us what rank shall we hold in your service?”</p>
<p>“You shall be my chief captain for this enterprise, O Son of Orme, and
those with you shall serve under you in such positions as you may please.”</p>
<p>At these words a murmur of dissatisfaction arose from the mail-clad generals in
the Council.</p>
<p>“Are we then, to obey this stranger, O Child of Kings?” queried
Joshua as their spokesman.</p>
<p>“Aye, my uncle, so far as this great enterprise is concerned, as I have
said. Can you handle the firestuffs of which they alone have the secret? Could
any three of you have held the gate of Harmac against the armies of the Fung
and sent it flying skyward?”</p>
<p>She paused and waited in the midst of a sullen silence.</p>
<p>“You do not answer because you cannot,” continued Maqueda.
“Then for this purpose be content to serve awhile under the command of
those who have the skill and power which you lack.”</p>
<p>Still there was no answer.</p>
<p>“Lady,” said Orme in this ominous quiet, “you are so good as
to make me a general among your soldiers, but will they obey me? And who are
your soldiers? Does every man of the Abati bear arms?”</p>
<p>“Alas! no,” she replied, fixing upon this latter question perhaps
because she could not answer the first. “Alas! no. In the old days it was
otherwise, when my great ancestresses ruled, and then we did not fear the Fung.
But now the people will not serve as soldiers. They say it takes them from
their trades and the games they love; they say they cannot give the time in
youth; they say that it degrades a man to obey the orders of those set over
him; they say that war is barbarous and should be abolished, and all the while
the brave Fung wait without to massacre our men and make our women slaves. Only
the very poor and the desperate, and those who have offended against the laws
will serve in my army, except it be as officers. Oh! and therefore are the
Abati doomed,” and, throwing back her veil, suddenly, she burst into
tears before us all.</p>
<p>I do not know that I ever remember seeing a sight more pathetic in its way than
that of this beautiful and high-spirited young woman weeping in the presence of
her Council over the utter degeneracy of the race she was called upon to rule.
Being old and accustomed to these Eastern expressions of emotion, I remained
silent, however; but Oliver was so deeply affected that I feared lest he should
do something foolish. He went red, he went white, and was rising from his seat
to go to her, had I not caught him by the arm and pulled him back. As for
Quick, he turned his eyes to the ceiling, as though engaged in prayer, and I
heard him muttering:</p>
<p>“The Lord help the poor thing, the Lord help her; the one pearl in the
snout of all these gilded swine! Well, I understand I am a bit of a general
now, and if I don’t make ‘em sit up for her sake my name
ain’t Samuel Quick.”</p>
<p>Meanwhile there was much consternation and indignant murmuring amongst the
Court, which felt that reflections had been thrown upon it collectively and
individually. At such a crisis, as usual, Prince Joshua took the lead. Rising
from his seat, he knelt, not without difficulty, before the throne, and said:</p>
<p>“O Child of Kings, why do you distress us with such words? Have you not
the God of Solomon to protect you?”</p>
<p>“God protects those who protect themselves,” sobbed Maqueda.</p>
<p>“And have you not many brave officers?”</p>
<p>“What are officers without an army?”</p>
<p>“And have you not me, your uncle, your affianced, your lover?” and
he laid his hand where he conceived his heart to be, and stared up at her with
his rolling, fish-like eyes. “Had it not been for the interference of
these Gentiles, in whom you seem to put such trust,” he went on,
“should I not have taken Barung captive the other day, and left the Fung
without a head?”</p>
<p>“And the Abati without such shreds of honour as still belong to them, my
uncle.”</p>
<p>“Let us be wed, O Bud of the Rose, O Flower of Mur, and soon I will free
you from the Fung. We are helpless because we are separate, but together we
shall triumph. Say, O Maqueda, when shall we be wed?”</p>
<p>“When the idol Harmac is utterly destroyed, and the Fung have departed
for ever, my uncle,” she answered impatiently. “But is this a time
to talk of marriage? I declare the Council closed. Let the priests bring the
rolls that these strangers from the West may take the oath, and then pardon me
if I leave you.”</p>
<p>Now from behind the throne there appeared a gorgeous gentleman arrayed in a
head-dress that reminded me faintly of a bishop’s mitre, and wearing over
his robes a breastplate of precious stones roughly polished, which was half
hidden by a very long white beard.</p>
<p>This person, who it seemed was the high priest, carried in his hand a double
roll of parchment written over with characters which we afterwards discovered
were bastard Hebrew, very ancient and only decipherable by three or four of the
Abati, if indeed any of them could really read it. At least it was said to be
the roll of the law brought by their forefathers centuries ago from Abyssinia,
together with Sheba’s ring and a few other relics, among them the cradle
(a palpable forgery), in which the child of Solomon and Maqueda, or Belchis,
the first known Queen of Sheba, was traditionally reported to have been rocked.
This roll of the law, which for generations had been used at all important
ceremonies among the Abati, such as the swearing-in of their queens and chief
officers, was now tendered to us to hold and kiss while we took the oath of
obedience and allegiance in the names of Jehovah and of Solomon (a strange
mixture, it struck us), solemnly vowing to perform those things which I have
already set out.</p>
<p>“This seems a pretty wide promise,” said Oliver, after it had been
read to us and translated by me to Quick. “Do you think that we ought to
take it on?”</p>
<p>I answered “Yes,” that was from my point of view, since otherwise I
saw no chance of achieving the object that had caused me to enter upon this
adventure. Then, being especially requested to do so, the Sergeant, after
reflecting awhile, gave his considered opinion.</p>
<p>“Sir,” he said to Orme, “we are three white men here
consorting with a mob of quarter-bred African Jews and one real lady. It seems
to me that we had best swear anything they want us to, trusting to the lady to
see us through the mess, since otherwise we shall be mere filibusters in the
country without official rank, and liable therefore to be shot on sight by the
enemy, or any mutineers who get the upper hand here. Also, we have the
Professor and the Doctor’s son to think of. Therefore I say: Swear to
anything in reason, reserving allegiance to the Crown of Great Britain, and
trust to luck. You see, Captain, we are in their power anyway, and this oath
may help, but can’t hurt us, while to refuse it must give offence to all
these skunks, and perhaps to the lady also, which is of more consequence.”</p>
<p>“I think you are probably right, Sergeant,” said Orme.
“Anyway, in for a penny, in for a pound.”</p>
<p>Then he turned to Maqueda, who had been watching this conference in an unknown
tongue with some anxiety, or so it seemed to me, and added in Arabic: “O
Child of Kings, we will take your oath, although it is wide, trusting to your
honour to protect us from any pitfalls which it may cover, for we would ask you
to remember that we are strangers in your land who do not understand its laws
and customs. Only we stipulate that we retain our allegiance to our own ruler
far away, remaining the subjects of that monarch with all rights thereto
appertaining. Also, we stipulate that before we enter on our duties, or at any
rate during those duties, we shall be at full liberty to attempt the rescue of
our friend and companion, now a prisoner in the hands of the Fung, and of the
son of one of us who is believed to be a slave to them, and that we shall have
all the assistance which you can give us in this matter. Moreover, we demand
that if we should be tried for any offence under this oath, you to whom we
swear allegiance shall be our judge alone, none others intermeddling in the
trial. If you accept these terms we will swear the oath; otherwise we swear
nothing, but will act as occasion may arise.”</p>
<p>Now we were requested to stand back while the Child of Kings consulted with her
advisers, which she did for a considerable time, since evidently the questions
raised involved differences of opinion. In the end, however, she and those who
supported her seemed to overrule the objectors, and we were called up and told
that our terms had been accepted and engrossed upon the form of the oath, and
that everything there included would be faithfully observed by the Ruler and
Council of the Abati.</p>
<p>So we signed and swore, kissing the book, or rather the roll, in the civilized
fashion. Afterwards, very tired, for all this business had been anxious, we
were conducted back to our own quarters to lunch, or rather to dine, for the
Abati ate their heaviest meal at midday, taking a siesta after it according to
the common Eastern custom.</p>
<p>About four o’clock of that afternoon I was awakened from my nap by the
growls of Pharaoh, and looked up to see a man crouching against the door,
evidently in fear of the dog’s fangs. He proved to be a messenger from
Maqueda, sent to ask us if we cared to accompany her to a place that we had
never seen. Of course we answered “Yes,” and were at once led by
the messenger to a disused and dusty hall at the back of the palace, where
presently Maqueda and three of her ladies joined us, and with them a number of
men who carried lighted lamps, gourds of oil, and bundles of torches.</p>
<p>“Doubtless, friends,” said Maqueda, who was unveiled and appeared
to have quite recovered from our outburst of the morning, “you have seen
many wonderful places in this Africa and other lands, but now I am about to
show you one that, I think, is stranger than them all.”</p>
<p>Following her, we came to a door at the end of the hall which the men unbolted
and shut again behind us, and thence passed into a long passage cut in the
rock, that sloped continuously downwards and at length led through another
doorway to the vastest cave that we had ever heard of or seen. So vast was it,
indeed, that the feeble light of our lamps did not suffice to reach the roof,
and only dimly showed to right and left the outlines of what appeared to be
shattered buildings of rock.</p>
<p>“Behold the cave city of Mur,” said Maqueda, waving the lamp she
held. “Here it was that the ancients whom we believe to have been the
forefathers of the Fung, had their secret stronghold. These walls were those of
their granaries, temples, and places of ceremonial, but, as I have told you,
centuries ago an earthquake shattered them, leaving them as they are now. Also,
it broke down much of the cave itself, causing the roof to fall, so that there
are many parts where it is not safe to enter. Come now and see what is
left.”</p>
<p>We followed her into the depth of the wonderful place, our lanterns and torches
making little stars of light in that great blackness. We saw the ruins of
granaries still filled with the dust of what I suppose had once been corn, and
came at length to a huge, roofless building of which the area was strewn with
shattered columns, and among them overgrown statues, covered so thick by dust
that we could only discover that most of them seemed to be shaped like sphinxes.</p>
<p>“If only Higgs were here,” said Oliver with a sigh, and passed on
to Maqueda, who was calling him to look at something else.</p>
<p>Leaving the temple in which it was unsafe to walk, she led us to where a strong
spring, the water supply of the place, bubbled up into a rock basin, and
overflowing thence through prepared openings, ran away we knew not whither.</p>
<p>“Look, this fountain is very ancient,” said Maqueda, pointing to
the lip of the basin that was worn away to the depth of several inches where
those who drew water had for many generations rested their hands upon the hard
rock.</p>
<p>“How did they light so vast a cavern?” asked Oliver.</p>
<p>“We do not know,” she answered, “since lamps would scarcely
have served them. It is a secret of the past which none of the Abati have cared
to recover, and another is how the air is always kept fresh so deep in the
bowels of the mountain. We cannot even say whether this place is natural, as I
think, or hollowed out by men.”</p>
<p>“Both, I expect,” I answered. “But tell me, Lady, do the
Abati make any use of this great cave?”</p>
<p>“Some corn is still stored here in pits in case of siege,” she
replied, adding sadly, “but it is not enough to be of real service, since
almost all of it comes from the estates of the Child of Kings. In vain have I
prayed the people to contribute, if only a hundredth part of their harvest, but
they will not. Each says that he would give if his neighbour gave, and so none
give. And yet a day may come when a store of corn alone would stand between
them and death by hunger—if the Fung held the valley, for
instance,” and she turned impatiently and walked forward to show us the
stables where the ancients kept their horses and the marks of their chariot
wheels in the stone floor.</p>
<p>“Nice people, the Abati, sir,” said Quick to me. “If it
weren’t for the women and children, and, above all, for this little lady,
whom I am beginning to worship like my master, as in duty bound, I’d like
to see them do a bit of hungering.”</p>
<p>“There is one more place to show you,” said Maqueda, when we had
inspected the stables and argued as to what possible causes could have induced
the ancients to keep horses underground, “which perhaps you will think
worth a visit, since it holds the treasures that are, or shall be, yours.
Come!”</p>
<p>We started forward again along various passages, the last of which suddenly
widened into a broad and steep incline of rock, which we followed for quite
fifty paces till it ended in what seemed to be a blank wall. Here Maqueda bade
her ladies and attendants halt, which indeed they seemed very anxious to do,
though at the moment we did not know why. Then she went to one end of the wall
where it joined that of the passage, and, showing us some loose stones, asked
me to pull them out, which I did, not without difficulty. When an aperture had
been made large enough for a man to creep through, she turned to her people and
said:</p>
<p>“You, I know, believe this place to be haunted, nor would the bravest of
you enter it save by express command. But I and these strangers have no such
fears. Therefore give us a gourd of oil and some torches and bide where you are
till we return, setting a lamp in the hole in the wall to guide us in case our
own should become extinguished. No, do not reason but obey. There is no danger,
for though hot, the air within is pure, as I know who have breathed it more
than once.”</p>
<p>Then she gave her hand to Oliver, and with his assistance crept through the
hole. We followed, to find ourselves in another cavern, where, as she had said,
the temperature was much hotter than that without.</p>
<p>“What is this place?” asked Orme in a low voice, for its aspect
seemed to awe him.</p>
<p>“The tomb of the old kings of Mur,” she replied. “Presently
you shall see,” and once more she took his hand, for the slope was sharp
and slippery.</p>
<p>On we went, always descending, for perhaps four hundred yards, our footfalls
echoing loudly in the intense silence, and our lamps, round which the bats
circled in hundreds, making four stars of light in the utter blackness, till at
length the passage widened out into what appeared to be a vast circular arena,
with a lofty dome-like roof of rock. Maqueda turned to the right, and, halting
before some objects that glimmered whitely, held up her light, saying,
“Look!”</p>
<p>This was what we saw: A great stone chair and, piled upon its seat and upon its
base, human bones. Amongst these was a skull, and on it, grotesquely tilted, a
crown of gold, while other ornaments—sceptres, rings, necklaces, weapons
and armour—were mingled with the bones. Nor was this all, for in a wide
circle round the chair were other skeletons, fifty or more of them, and amongst
them the ornaments that their owners had worn.</p>
<p>Also, in front of each stood a tray of some metal, which we afterwards
discovered to be silver or copper, and heaped upon it every kind of valuable,
such as golden cups and vases, toilet utensils, necklaces, pectorals,
bracelets, leglets, earrings and beads that seemed to be cut from precious
stones, piles of ring money, and a hundred other things such as have been
prized by mankind since the beginning of civilization.</p>
<p>“You understand,” said Maqueda, as we stared, open-mouthed at this
awful and marvellous sight, “he in the chair was the king. Those about
him were his officers, guards, and women. When he was buried they brought his
household here, bearing his wealth, sat them down about him, and killed them.
Blow away the dust, and you will see that the rock beneath is still stained
with their blood; also, there are the sword-marks on their skulls, and
neckbones.”</p>
<p>Quick, who was of an inquiring mind, stepped forward and verified these
statements.</p>
<p>“Golly!” he said, throwing down the skull of a man over whom the
tired executioners had evidently bungled badly, “I’m glad I
didn’t serve the old kings of Mur. But the same game goes on in a small
way to-day in Africa, for when I was campaigning on the West Coast I came
across it not a fortnight old, only there they had buried the poor beggars
living.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” said Maqueda, when the Sergeant’s remarks had been
translated to her. “Yet I do not think the custom is one that my people
would love,” and she laughed a little, then added, “forward,
friends, there are many more of these kings and oil does not burn for
ever.”</p>
<p>So we moved on, and at a distance of some twenty paces found another chair with
scattered bones on and about the seat, lying where each had fallen as the dead
man decayed. Round it were the skeletons of the unfortunates who had been
doomed to accompany him upon his last journey, every one of them behind his
tray of golden objects, or of simple treasure. In front of this king’s
chair also were the bones of a dog with a jewelled collar.</p>
<p>Again we proceeded to a third mortuary, if it may so be called, and here
Maqueda pointed out the skeleton of a man, in front of which stood a tray piled
up with what evidently had been the medicine bottles of the period and among
them a number of rude surgical instruments.</p>
<p>“Say, O Physician Adams,” she remarked with a smile, “would
you have wished to be court doctor to the kings of Mur, if indeed that was then
their city’s name?”</p>
<p>“No, Lady,” I answered; “but I do wish to examine his
instruments if I have your leave,” and while she hurried forward I
stooped down and filled my pockets. Here I may remark, that upon subsequent
inspection I found among these instruments, manufactured I know not what number
of thousands of years ago—for on that point controversy rages among the
learned—many that with modifications are still in use to-day.</p>
<p>Of that strange and dreadful sepulchre there is little more to tell. From
monarch to monarch we marched on till at length we grew weary of staring at
bones and gold. Even Quick grew weary, who had passed his early youth in
assisting his father, the parish sexton, and therefore, like myself, regarded
these relics with professional interest, though of a different degree. At any
rate, he remarked that this family vault was uncommonly hot, and perhaps, if it
pleased her Majesty, as he called Maqueda, we might take the rest of the
deceased gentlemen as read, like a recruit’s attestation questions.</p>
<p>But just then we came to No. 25, according to my counting, and were obliged to
stop to wonder, for clearly this king had been the greatest of them all, since
round him lay about two or three times the average number of dead, and an
enormous quantity of wealth, some of it in the form of little statues of men
and women, or perhaps of gods. Yet, oddly enough, he was hunchback with a huge
skull, almost a monstrosity indeed. Perhaps his mind partook of the abnormal
qualities of his body, since no less than eleven little children had been
sacrificed at his obsequies, two of whom, judging from their crooked bones,
must have been his own.</p>
<p>One wonders what chanced in Mur and the surrounding territories which then
acknowledged its sway when King Hunchback ruled. Alas! history writes no record.</p>
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