The Land of Foam

VI. THE ROAD OF DARKNESS

The tender care of Kidogo and Cavius had its effect and Pandion’s bones mended. His former strength, however, did not return to him. For days on end he lay, apathetic and listless, in the gloom of the big hut, answered his friends unwillingly and in monosyllables, ate without appetite and made no effort to rise. He had grown very thin, his face with its deep-sunken, usually closed eyes, was overgrown with a soft beard.

The time had come to set out on the long road to the sea and home. Kidogo had long since questioned the local inhabitants about the way to the shores of the Southern Horn.

Of the thirty-nine former slaves, who had sought refuge in the village, twelve had gone off in various directions — they had formerly lived in this country and could reach their homes without any great difficulty or danger.

Those who remained were urging Kidogo to start out. Now that they were all free and healthy their distant homes called more strongly to them; every day of inactivity seemed like a crime to them. Since their return home depended on Kidogo, they worried him constantly with requests and reminders.

Kidogo got out of the situation by making indefinite promises — he could not leave Pandion. After these talks the Negro would sit for hours beside the bed of his friend, torn with doubts — when would there be a change in the sick man’s condition? On Cavius’ advice Pandion was carried out of the house in the cool of the evening. Even this did not bring any noticeable improvement. The only times Pandion brightened up was when it rained — the rolling of the thunder and the roaring downpour of rain made the sick man raise himself on to his elbow and listen, as though in these sounds he heard some call unheard by the others. Cavius called in two local medicine men. They burnt grass with an acrid smoke over the patient, buried a pot with some roots in it in the earth, but still his condition did not improve.

One evening when Pandion was lying near the hut and Cavius was sitting beside him, lazily keeping off the buzzing flies with a leafy branch, a girl in a blue mantle came up to them. This was Iruma, the daughter of the best hunter in the village, the girl whose attention Pandion had attracted the day the travellers arrived.

From under her mantle the girl extended a slender arm on which the bracelets rattled; in her hand she held a small bag of plaited grass. Iruma offered the bag to Cavius — the Etruscan had by this time learned a few words of the local language — and tried to explain to him that these were magic nuts from the western forests that would cure the sick man. She tried to explain to him how to prepare medicine from them but Cavius could not understand her. Iruma hung her head in perplexity but immediately brightened up again, told Cavius to give her a flat stone, that was used for crushing corn, and to bring her a cup of water. Cavius entered the house and she looked round in all directions, then dropped to her knees at the sick man’s head and peered intently into his face. She laid her tiny hand on Pandion’s forehead, but hearing Cavius’ heavy tread she hurriedly withdrew it.

She tipped some small nuts, something like chestnuts, out of the bag, broke them and crushed the kernels on the stone, rubbing them into a sort of thin porridge which she mixed with some milk that Kidogo had at that moment brought. As soon as the Negro saw the nuts, he gave a mighty yell and began to dance round Cavius in joy.

Kidogo explained to the astonished Cavius that in the western forests and in the forests of his country there is a tree with a straight trunk whose branches grow shorter towards the top, so that it looks pointed. These trees bear large numbers of nuts that have marvellous healing properties. They give new strength to the exhausted, banish fatigue and bring joy and happiness to the healthy. (Cola nuts, now known the world over for their medicinal properties.)

The girl fed Pandion with the porridge made from the magic nuts and then all three of them sat down by his bedside and began patiently awaiting results. After a few minutes had passed Pandion’s feeble breathing became stronger and more regular, the skin on his hollow cheeks took on a rosy hue. All the moroseness suddenly left the Etruscan. As though under a spell, he sat watching the effect of the mysterious medicine. Pandion heaved a deep sigh, opened his eyes widely and sat up.

His sun-coloured eyes wandered from Cavius to Kidogo and then remained fixed on the girl. Pandion stared in amazement at a face the colour of dark bronze with an astonishingly smooth skin that seemed very much alive.

Between the inner corners of her long, slightly slanting eyes, faint wrinkles, full of mischief, ran across the bridge of her nose. The whites of her eyes showed clear and bright through half-closed lids; the nostrils of her broad but well-formed nose twitched nervously, and her thick, vivid lips opened in a frank but bashful smile, that revealed a row of strong, pearly teeth. The whole of her round face was so filled with bold and at the same time gentle mischief, with the joyous play of youthful life, that Pandion could not help but smile. And his golden eyes, till then dull and apathetic, flashed and sparkled. Iruma lowered her eyes in confusion and turned away.

The astounded friends were beside themselves with delight — for the first time since that fatal day of the battle, Pandion had smiled. The magic effect of the wonderful nuts was beyond all shadow of doubt. Pandion sat up and asked his friends about everything that had happened since the day he was injured, interrupting them with rapid questions, like those of a man in a state of inebriation.

Iruma went hurriedly away, promising to make inquiries concerning the progress of the patient that evening. Pandion ate a lot and ate with great satisfaction, all the time interrogating his comrades. By evening, however, the effect of the medicine had worn off and he was again overcome by drowsy apathy.

Pandion lay inside the house and the Etruscan and Kidogo were discussing whether or not to give him another portion of the nuts but before doing so decided to ask Iruma.

The girl came, accompanied by her father, a tall athlete with scars on his shoulders and chest where he had been slashed by a lion’s claws. Father and daughter talked together for a long time. Several times the hunter waved his daughter disdainfully aside, shaking his head angrily; then he laughed noisily and slapped her on the back. Iruma shrugged her shoulders in annoyance and approached the two friends.

“My father says that he must not be given too many nuts,” she explained to the Negro, apparently regarding him as the sick man’s closest friend. “You must give him the nuts once at midday to make him eat well…”

Kidogo answered that he knew the effect of the nuts and would do as she told him.

The girl’s father looked at the sick man, shook his head and said something to his daughter that neither Cavius nor Kidogo could understand. Iruma immediately changed into something like an infuriated cat — so brightly did her eyes flash; her upper lip curled, showing a row of white teeth. The hunter gave her a kindly smile, waved his hand and went out of the house. The girl bent over Pandion

“Tomorrow I’ll treat him myself according to the customs of cur people,” she announced with decision as she stood in the doorway. “There’s a way that the women of our tribe have long used to heal the sick and the. wounded. The spirit of joy has left your friend — without it no man wants to live. That spirit must be returned to him!”

Kidogo thought over the girl’s words and decided that she was right. After all the suffering he had experienced Pandion had lost his interest in life. Something had given way inside him. Nevertheless Kidogo could not imagine what sort of treatment the girl was talking about no matter how hard he tried. And so he lay down to sleep without having thought of anything.

Next day Kidogo again fed the nuts to Pandion. The latter sat up, talked and, to the joy of his friends, ate with a good appetite. He kept looking from side to side and at last asked about the girl of yesterday. Kidogo pulled a grimace of pleasure, winked at Cavius and warned Pandion that on that evening the girl would give him treatment of a kind unknown to anybody. Pandion was at first interested, then, apparently when the effect of the nuts began to wear off, again fell into his usual apathy. Still Kidogo and Cavius were of the opinion that their friend’s appearance had greatly improved during those last two days. Their young friend tossed about more on his bed and his breathing was stronger.

No sooner had the sun sunk in the west than the village was, as usual, filled with the acrid smell of burning brushwood and the monotonous thud of heavy pestles in huge mortars in which the women crushed millet for the evening meal. Black porridge from this millet, eaten with milk and butter, was the staple food of the villagers.

The short twilight turned rapidly into night. Suddenly the dull rumble of a tom-tom swept across the village. A noisy crowd of young people approached the. house of the three friends. In front of the crowd were four girls bearing torches and surrounding two bent old crones in wide dark cloaks. Young men took up the sick Pandion and, accompanied by the deafening shouts of the crowd, carried him to the other side of the village, close to the cleared edge of the forest.

Cavius and Kidogo followed the crowd, the former looking from side to side in disapproval as though he wished to say that nothing good was to be expected of the performance.

Pandion was carried into a big empty house, no less than thirty cubits across, and laid down beside the centre pole with his back to the wide door. A number of torches made of tinder wood soaked in palm-oil and fastened to the pole threw a circle of bright light over the centre of the house. The walls under the low eaves were hidden in darkness. The house was full of women, young and old; they sat along the walls talking in rapid tones. Some dark liquid, that an old woman gave Pandion to drink, immediately cheered him up.

A sharp trembling sound came from a hollow elephant tusk — silence fell on the house and all the men hurriedly left. The Etruscan and Kidogo tried to hang back but were unceremoniously thrust out into the darkness. A group of ugly old hags stood around the entrance screening the proceedings from the eyes of the curious. Cavius sat down near the house, determined not to go away till the end of the mysterious rites. He was joined by Kidogo, who bared his teeth in a smile — he had faith in the methods of treatment used by — the peoples of the south. Two girls carefully lifted the sick man and sat him with his back propped up against the centre pole. Pandion looked round in astonishment, seeing everywhere in the semi-darkness the whites of the eyes and the teeth of smiling women. Inside, the house was hung with festoons of some aromatic plant. Wide garlands hang around the inner cornice of the roof and thin branches of the same bush were wound around the pole against which Pandion had been placed. The branches filled the whole house with a sharp, invigorating aroma that worried and alarmed Pandion, reminding him of something infinitely close and alluring and at the same time irretrievably forgotten.

Several women took up their places immediately in front of the Hellene. The curved lines of two trumpets made of hollow elephant’s tusks shone white in the light of the torches, beside them were fat-bellied torn-toms made of hollowed tree-trunks.

Again the trembling note of the horn sounded. The old women placed before Pandion the wooden statuette of a woman crudely carved in powerful lines and worn black with time.

Women’s high-pitched voices started a soft song — they poured forth slow modulations of guttural sounds and sorrowful sighs, growing faster and louder, expanding and rising higher and higher in an impetuous rush. Suddenly a heavy and resonant stroke on the drum made Pandion give an involuntary shudder. The song ceased, at the edge of the circle of light a girl in a blue mantle appeared, a girl with whom Pandion was already acquainted. She stepped into the circle of torchlight and stopped hesitantly. Again the horn sounded and several of the old women added their howls to its furious moans. The girl threw off her mantle and stood there naked except for a girdle of branches from the same aromatic bush.

The light from the torches flickered dully on her shining “dark bronze skin. Iruma’s eyes had been heavily made up with blue-black paint; polished copper bangles shone on her arms and legs; her tightly curling hair tumbled on to her smooth shoulders.

The tom-toms rumbled dully and rhythmically. In time with the drums the girl, stepping softly on bare feet, drew near to Pandion and with lithe, animal-like movements bowed before the statuette of the unknown goddess, stretching out her hands before her in exhausting and passionate anticipation. In admiration Pandion followed Iruma’s every movement. There was no trace of mischief left on the girl’s face — serious, stern, her brows raised in a frown, she seemed to be listening to the voice of her own heart. She would relax and then stretch herself to full height, throwing out her arms and standing on the tips of her toes as though every particle of her body were striving upwards. Pandion had never seen anything like it — the mysterious life of her hands merged with the bursts of soulful inspiration on her upturned face.

The ivory horns trumpeted feverishly. A sudden rattling blow stopped Pandion’s breath — sheets of copper, beaten one against the other, rattled and rumbled victoriously, joyfully, drowning the broken rhythm of the tomtoms.

The girl threw herself backward in a sharp, gleaming curve. Then her tiny feet began to move over the smoothly beaten floor; the dancer travelled round the circle shyly and hesitantly in her bashful confusion.

In the light of the torches the girl seemed to be cast from some dark metal. Drawing back into the darkness she moved there like a light, almost invisible shadow.

The troubled rattle of the drums grew faster and faster, the copper sheets clattered wildly and the slow dance became more and more impetuous, following the furious dictates of the music.

Strong, slim legs moved in time with the shattering bass notes of the copper sheets, twined together, stopped dead still and again slid along, scarcely touching the floor. The shoulders and high bosom remained motionless and Iruma’s tensed arms, stretched out towards the idol of the goddess, curved slowly and gracefully in supplication.

The persistent rumble of the drums broke off, the rattle of copper sheets ceased, and only the occasional sorrowful moans of the horns and the tinkling of Iruma’s bracelets and anklets broke the silence that ensued.

The strange movement of the muscles under the girl’s skin fascinated Pandion. They did not protrude anywhere, they streamed and undulated like the water on the surface of a river and the lines of Iruma’s body flashed before Pandion’s eyes in constant, never repeated mutation in which there was the smooth rhythm of the sea and the gusty winds of the golden plain.

The supplication that had filled the girl’s every movement at the beginning of the dance had now given place to an imperative urge. It seemed to Pandion that the fire of life itself was flowing before him in the bronze reflection of light and the thunder of the music.

A craving for life flashed up again in the young Hellene’s breast, former dreams and desires returned, a wide and mysterious world opened up before him.

The horns stopped blowing. The low threatening rumble of the tom-toms merged with the piercing shrieks of the women. The copper sheets rattled like close thunder; then all of them stopped suddenly. Pandion could hear the beating of his own heart.

The girl plunged forward, then suddenly stopped, dropping her arms helplessly down her sides, trembling and exhausted. Her knees bent under her, the gleam went out of her eyes. Iruma cried out sadly and collapsed before the statuette of the goddess. She lay motionless where she had fallen, only her bosom heaving with her rapid breathing.

The tempestuous dance had broken off on a note of sadness and the astounded Pandion shuddered.

The roar of triumphant voices filled the house.

Four women, whispering incomprehensible words, lifted Iruma and carried her out of the circle of light. The ancient wooden statuette was immediately taken away. The women rose to their feet, all excited, their eyes blazing. They talked loudly amongst themselves, pointing to the stranger. The old women, guarding the door, made way for Kidogo and Cavius to enter; they rushed to their friend with questions. Pandion, however, could not and did not want to talk. The two friends took him home and he lay for a long time without sleep under the impression of that unusual dance.

Pandion began to recover. His young body regained its former strength with amazing rapidity.

Three days later he went without anybody’s help to the house of the hunter — he wanted to see Iruma. The girl was not at home, but her father received the guest in a friendly and tender manner, gave him good beer to drink and tried to explain something to him, gesticulating and slapping him on the shoulders and chest. The young Hellene ‘did not understand anything and left the hunter’s house with a vague feeling of chagrin.

Pandion’s rebirth had not been complete: he was free and convalescent, but the spiritual inhibition had not left him.

He himself realized that the trials and tribulations that had fallen to his lot had somehow shattered him. The terrific shake-up he had received during the tussle with the rhinoceros had proved more than he could stand. He had weakened and for a long time did not return to normality. But he must recover, he must be capable of further struggle on the road home. He made a tremendous effort and began gymnastic exercises in order to be the equal of his comrades as he formerly was.

Kidogo and Cavius were now quite satisfied with Pandion’s recovery and together with all the other former slaves and most of the local people they set out on a long hunt to round up giraffes, hoping that this would give them an opportunity to find out something about the road they were to travel and at the same time obtain more meat for their hospitable hosts.

To the amusement and good-natured jokes of his neighbours, Pandion, to strengthen his muscles, took to crushing grain for beer-making, despite the sneers of the men who regarded it as women’s work. Soon Pandion began to leave the confines of the village, taking with him a thin Egyptian spear. Out in the fields he practised running and throwing the spear, feeling that every day his muscles were hardening and that his untiring legs were once more carrying his body with their former ease.

At the same time he made a strenuous effort to study the native language, never for a moment forgetting Iruma. Time and again he repeated the unfamiliar but melodious words. His excellent memory helped him and in a week he was able to understand what was said to him.

Pandion had not seen Iruma for a fortnight, but did not venture to visit her in her father’s absence as he did not know the customs of these people. One day when he was on his way back from the fields, Pandion saw a figure in a blue mantle and his heart began to beat faster. He quickened his steps, overtook the girl and stood before her, smiling joyfully. He had made no mistake, it was Iruma. His first glance at the girl’s face excited Pandion. Uttering with difficulty words to which his tongue was not accustomed Pandion started to thank the confused Iruma. Pandion’s stock of words soon ran out, and he continued in his own language, realized that he was not understood and looked embarrassed at the girl’s coloured head-dress that just reached his shoulder. Iruma looked sideways at him with mischievous eyes and suddenly laughed. Pandion smiled, too, and then carefully pronounced a phrase that he had long since learned.

“May I come to see you?”

“Come,” answered the girl simply, “tomorrow to the edge of the forest, when the sun is behind the trees.”

Pandion was overjoyed but he did not know what else to say to her; he simply held out both hands to Iruma. The blue mantle flew open and two tiny strong hands lay trustfully in Pandion’s palms. He pressed them firmly but tenderly. At that moment he was not thinking of his distant Thessa. The girl’s hands trembled, her wide nostrils were dilated; with a gentle but strong movement she freed herself, covered her face with her mantle and strode swiftly away, down the slope of the hill. ‘Pandion realized that he must not follow her and remained standing where he was, watching the girl until she disappeared behind the houses. Smiling for no apparent reason Pandion walked down the street, jauntily swinging his spear.

For the first time Pandion noticed that the village was situated in a very picturesque spot; the houses were big and convenient, the streets wide.

Without realizing it Pandion compared the people here with the poorer inhabitants he had seen in the Land of Nub and with the poor people of Tha-Quem, the Chosen People of the Gods, on whose faces moroseness and indifference had left their stamp. There was something debased in bodies that had become exhausted with heavy toil and constant undernourishment. The people here were different; they walked with a light and easy freedom, even the old people retained their graceful bearing.

Pandion’s thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a young man, muscular and broad-shouldered, wearing a cap of leopard’s skin. He looked at the foreigner in an unfriendly manner, stretched out his hand with an imperious gesture and touched Pandion’s breast. Pandion stopped short in amazement, and the young man stood still in front of him, his hand dropped to his belt, in which he carried a broad knife, and took stock of the stranger with a challenging glance.

“I’ve noticed that you’re a good runner,” he said at last. “Will you compete with me? I am Fulbo, known as the Leopard,” he added as though the name would explain everything to Pandion.

Pandion answered him with a friendly smile and said that he had once been able to run much better and had not yet been able to reach his former standard on account of his illness. In response to this Fulbo showered him with malicious taunts that made the young Hellene’s blood boil. Pandion did not know any reason for the young man’s hating him and, with his arms akimbo as a mark of disdain, agreed to the contest. The opponents agreed that the race would take place that evening when it became cooler.

All the young people and a few of the elder ones gathered at the foot of the hill, on which the village stood, to watch the contest between Fulbo and the foreigner.

Fulbo pointed to a tree that stood alone in the distance; it was no less than ten thousand cubits from where they stood. The one who first ran to the tree, plucked a branch and returned with it would be considered the victor.

The signal to start was given by a handclap, and Pandion and Fulbo started out. Fulbo, trembling with impatience, immediately sprang forward in a series of long bounds. The youngster seemed to spread himself out and fly over the ground. The youths present encouraged him with shouts of approval.

Pandion had not fully recovered and realized that there was a danger of his being beaten. Still he was determined not to give way. He set out to run as his grandfather had taught him in the cool hours of morning on the narrow strip of seashore, near their home. He ran on, swaying slightly, making no sudden spurts and carefully reserving his breath. Fulbo was soon far ahead, but the young Hellene moved at a regular pace, making no effort to overtake his opponent. His chest gradually expanded, taking in greater quantities of air; his legs moved faster and the spectators, who had at first been sorry for the stranger, now saw that the distance between him and Fulbo was decreasing. The African looked round, let out a shout of anger and ran still faster. He reached the tree four hundred cubits ahead of Pandion, leaped high into the air, snatched off a branch and immediately turned back. Pandion passed him near the tree and as he passed noticed Fulbo’s stertorous breathing. Although Pandion’s own heart was beating faster than it should, he decided that he could count on victory over his far too hot-headed opponent, who knew little of the rules of running. Pandion continued to run with his former restraint and only increased his speed when a distance of no more than three thousand cubits was left between him and the spectators. He soon overtook Fulbo but the latter, gasping in huge quantities of air through his wide-open mouth, again leaped forward leaving the Hellene behind. Pandion did not give up. Although there were dark patches before his eyes and his heart beat faster than ever, he again drew ahead of his opponent. Fulbo was now running wildly, seeing nothing before him; unable to choose his road, he fell. Pandion ran on a few cubits, stopped and turned back to his fallen opponent to help him to rise. Fulbo pushed him angrily aside, staggered to his feet, looked Pandion straight in the face, and spoke with great difficulty:

“You — won — but — look out!… Iruma…”

In an instant Pandion understood everything and his feeling of triumph at his victory was mingled with an uncomfortable feeling of having insinuated himself into something that was not his and that was forbidden him.

Fulbo walked heavily away, his head hanging morosely, making no effort to run. Pandion returned leisurely to the finish and was greeted by the spectators. But the feeling of awkwardness did not leave him.

As soon as Pandion found himself alone in his empty house, he began to long for Iruma. The meeting appointed for the next day seemed very far away.

The hunters returned that evening. Pandion’s companions came home tired, loaded with the spoils of the chase and full of their adventures. Cavius and Kidogo were overjoyed at finding Pandion quite well. Jokingly, Kidogo suggested wrestling with the Hellene and soon Pandion and he were lolling in the dust, their bodies firmly locked in each other’s iron grip, while Cavius kicked and cursed them in an effort to get them apart.

The friends took part in the general feasting that had been arranged in honour of the returning hunters. The warriors, intoxicated with beer, tried to outdo each other in boasting of their exploits. Pandion sat apart from his companions, his eyes fixed on the glade in which the young people were dancing, striving to get a glimpse of Iruma in the procession of dancing youths and girls.

One of the chiefs, swaying slightly, rose to his feet to make a speech of congratulation, accompanying it with graceful gesticulations. Pandion could only catch the general sense of what he was saying — he praised the newcomers and regretted their early departure; the chief proposed that they stay and be accepted into the tribe.

The feast ended late at night when the hunters had eaten their fill of the tender young giraffe meat and the supplies of beer had given out. On the way home Kidogo announced that the former slaves, of whom twenty-seven were left, would next day hold a conference on their future plans. Kidogo had found an opportunity to talk to nomad hunters he had met in the forest. They were well acquainted with the region to the west of the village and told him which route to take. A great distance separated them from the sea and Kidogo’s home, but he now knew that even if they travelled slowly they would get there in three months. What could ‘hinder them now, experienced as they were in battle, and strong in their friendship? Each of the twenty-seven was worth five warriors! The Negro threw back his shoulders proudly and lifted his tipsy face to the stars; he threw his arms round Pandion and added:

“Now my heart is quiet. You are well — we must go! To the road — tomorrow, if you like!”

Pandion did not answer. For the first time he felt that his desires did not coincide with the aspirations of his comrades, but did not know how to be hypocritical.

Since his meeting with Iruma that day, he realized that the sorrow that was eating away at his heart was due to his love for her. The girl in the full bloom of her youthful beauty had come into his life immediately after the cruel years of slavery, when he stood on the threshold of liberty!

Was, then, this not enough for him who had but recently lain in a dark hole of a prison, clinging to the faintest hope of liberation? What more could he want, in the world and in life, when love called on him so imperatively to remain in that place, in the midst of the golden plain? The secret urge, which he tried to hide even from himself, to remain for ever with Iruma, grew stronger in his heart of hearts. He struggled against himself in an effort to test his love for her. The trustfulness of youth led him unnoticeably into the land of dreams where everything was so easy and simple.

The next day he would see Iruma and would tell her everything… And she… she loved him too!

The former slaves had arranged to meet at the opposite end of the village, where most of them lived in two big houses. Cavius, Kidogo and Pandion occupied a small separate house that had been allotted to them on account of Pandion’s illness.

Pandion, who had been sitting in the house sharpening a spear, got up and went to the door.

‘‘Where are you going?” asked the astonished Etruscan. “Aren’t you coming to the conference?”

“I’ll come later,” answered Pandion, turning away and hurriedly leaving the house.

Cavius looked keenly after the departing Hellene and turned in perplexity to Kidogo, who was sitting near the door working hard on a piece of thick hide he was making into a shield.

Pandion had not told his friends that Iruma was waiting for him at the forest edge. He realized that the return of his friends meant a threat to his new-found love but had not had strength enough to forego the meeting with Iruma. His justification was that he would know the result of the conference from his friends even if he were not present himself.

As he approached the forest Pandion searched with his eyes for Iruma; the smiling girl suddenly detached herself from the trunk of a tree and stood before him. She had put on her father’s hunting cloak of soft, grey bark which made her quite invisible against the background of the trees. The girl made a sign to Pandion to follow her and walked off along the edge of the forest to a place where the trees jutted out into the fields in a semicircle about three thousand cubits from the village. There she passed under the trees. Pandion, for the first time in an African forest, looked about him in curiosity. He had expected it to be quite different — the forest stretched in a narrow strip along the valley of the river that flowed round the village and was no more than two thousand cubits in width.

It consisted of high trees that met overhead in a huge vault forming a dark gallery over the eternal twilight of the river-bed.

Deeper in the forest the trees were higher, and on the steep bank of the river they bent downwards so that their branches intertwined overhead. The straight, graceful trunks with white, black and brown bark stretched upwards for a good hundred cubits, like the colonnade of some huge building. The branches were so intertwined in a thick leafy vault that the sun could not penetrate through them. The grey twilight streamed down from above and was lost in the deep hollows between strange roots that rose up like walls. The silence, broken by nothing but the faint gurgling of water, the semi-darkness and the tremendous height of the forest colonnade gave Pandion a feeling of oppression. He seemed like an uninvited guest who ‘had insinuated himself into the forbidden heart of a strange nature that was full of secrets.

Over the water there were narrow gaps in the foliage through which a perfect cascade of golden fire poured down. The golden sunlight clothed the trees in a hazy brilliance and was split up into vertical strips of light that gradually diminished deeper in the forest. The dark, mysterious temples of Aigyptos came to Pandion’s mind. Strings of creeping plants hung in free loops between the trees or hung down loosely forming a wavy curtain. The ground was covered with fallen leaves, rotted fruits and branches; it was soft and fluffy to the feet, and here and there brightly-coloured flowers gleamed like stars.

Long strips of rustling bark hung from the tree-trunks like skin torn from the body.

Huge butterflies fluttered noiselessly over the earth; the marvellous colour combinations of their trembling wings bright- velvet black, metallic blue, red, gold and silver — filled Pandion with amazement.

Iruma led the way confidently between the roots towards the river and brought Pandion to a level piece of ground, right beside the water, covered with a soft carpet of fluffy moss. Here stood a tree that had been blasted by lightning. In the gaping split in the hard yellow wood, Pandion could see the outlines of a crudely carved human figure. The tree was apparently an object of worship — coloured rags and the teeth of wild beasts were hung all round it. Three blackened elephant’s tusks were stuck in the ground in front of it.

Iruma, her head bowed in reverence, approached the tree and motioned to Pandion to do the same.

“This is the ancestor of our tribe, born of a thunderbolt,” said the girl softly. “Give him something so that the ancients will be kind to us.”

Pandion looked himself over — he had nothing that he could give to that crude god, the alleged ancestor of Iruma. The smiling youth spread his hands to show that he had nothing, but the girl was implacable.

“Give him this.” She touched a belt of plaited giraffe tails that Kidogo had just made for him as a memento of the hunt.

The youth obediently unfastened the strip of leather and gave it to the girl. Iruma threw off her cloak. She was without bracelets and necklace, and wore nothing but a wide leather belt that dropped down over her left hip.

The girl rose up on tiptoe, reaching up to the splintered wood at the head of the idol where she hung Pandion’s tribute. Lower down Iruma fastened a piece of brightly-coloured leopard skin and a string of dark red berries that looked like beads. She sprinkled some millet at the foot of the idol and stepped back, satisfied.

Leaning back against the trunk of a low tree with hundreds of flowers amongst its leaves, (The tulip-tree from the family of Bignoniaceae.) she looked fixedly at Pandion. Hundreds of red lamps seemed to be burning over the girl’s head, while the sun’s rays played on the bronze of her skin.

Pandion stood looking at the girl in silent admiration. Her beauty seemed sacred to him in the silence of that forest of giant trees — the temple of unknown gods so completely different from the joyous divinities of his own land.

A bright, calm joy suddenly filled Pandion’s heart, he was once more the artist, his former strivings were reawakened within him.

Suddenly an exceptionally clear vision arose in his memory. Far away, in his distant homeland, to the noise of the sea and the pines, Thessa had stood like this in those far-off days that were never to come again…

Iruma placed her hands behind her head, bent slightly from the waist and sighed. Pandion was overwhelmed — Iruma had adopted exactly the pose as that in which he had tried to depict Thessa.

The whole past rose before Pandion’s eyes. With even greater strength he felt the urge to return to Oeniadae. To the road, forward to new battles, away from Iruma!… Pandion was tormented by desires that had formerly been so clear but were now doubled in his mind. He discovered contradictions in himself, that he had never before known, and they frightened him.

Here he felt the call of life — hot like the sun of Africa, youthful like the flowering plains after the rain, powerful like a swollen stream — the power of life. Far away there, in his homeland, were his brightest dreams of great creative art. But was not beauty itself standing before him, close and joyous? So different were Iruma and Thessa; they were in no way alike, yet in both of them there was true beauty.

Pandion’s alarm was transmitted to the girl. She drew near to him and the melodious tones of a strange language broke the silence.

“You are ours, Golden Eyes, I have danced the dance of the great goddess and our ancestor has accepted your gifts…” Iruma’s voice broke off, her long lashes covered her eyes. The girl threw her arms round Pandion’s neck and pressed tightly to him.

Everything went dark before his eyes. With a desperate effort he broke out of the girl’s embrace. She raised her head. Her mouth was childishly half open.

“Don’t you want to live here? Are you going away with your companions?” asked Iruma in astonishment, and Pandion felt ashamed.

Pandion gently drew the girl towards him and, trying to find suitable words from amongst those of the language of her people that he knew, he told her of his great nostalgic longing’ for his own country; he told her about Thessa… Iruma turned her head upwards to Pandion’s broad chest, her eyes peered into the golden gleam of his eyes, her teeth were bared in a feeble smile. Iruma began to speak and in the sound of her words there was that same tenderness, that same caressing love that had intoxicated Pandion when Thessa spoke to him.

“Yes,” she said. “If you cannot live here, you must go away.” The girl stammered the last words. “But if I and my people seem good to you, stay with us, Golden Eyes. Think, decide, come to me… I shall wait.”

The girl straightened up, holding her head proudly. Pandion had seen her similarly serious and severe at the time of the dance. For a whole minute the young Hellene stood before her; then, making a sudden decision, he held out his hands to the girl. But she was gone beyond the trees, melting into the gloom of the thicket…

Iruma’s disappearance struck Pandion like a heavy loss. He stood for a long time in that gloomy forest and then wandered slowly across the golden haze of the glade, going he knew not where, struggling against the desire to run after Iruma, to tell her that he loved her and would stay with her.

Iruma, as soon as she had hidden herself behind the trees from Pandion’s eyes, began to run, jumping lightly over the roots and slipping between the lianas. She went on faster until she became exhausted. Breathing heavily, she stopped on the edge of a calm pond, a silent backwater of the river, which here became much wider. The bright light blinded her and her body felt the heat after the darkness and coolness of the forest.

Iruma looked round her sorrowfully, and through her tears she saw her reflection in the smooth surface of the water; almost involuntarily she examined her whole self in that mirror… Yes, she was beautiful! But, apparently, beauty was not all if the stranger, Golden Eyes, brave, kind and tender, wanted to leave her. Apparently, something else was needed… But what?…

The sun set behind the undulating plain. A blue, slanting shadow lay at the threshold of the house before which Kidogo and Cavius were sitting.

The way the two friends were fidgeting, told Pandion they had been waiting for him for a long time. With downcast eyes Pandion walked up to his two friends. Cavius got up’, solemn and stern, and placed his hand on Pandion’s shoulder.

“We want to talk to you, he and I.” The Etruscan nodded towards Kidogo, who was standing beside them. “You did not attend our council, but everything’s been decided — we set out tomorrow…”

Pandion staggered back. Too much had been happening in the course of the last three days. Still he did not think that his comrades would be in such a hurry. He would have hurried just as much himself if not… if not for Iruma!

Pandion read condemnation in the looks of his friends. He was now faced with the necessity of coming to a decision, a necessity that had long been tormenting his soul and which he had unconsciously evaded in the naïve hope that everything would come right of itself. It was as though a wall cut him off again from that world of liberty which in actual fact existed only in Pandion’s dreams.

He had to decide whether he would stay there with Iruma or go away with his companions and lose her for ever. If he stayed there, it would be for ever, too; only by the combined efforts of twenty-seven men prepared to face anything, even certain death, for the sake of returning to their own homes, would it be possible to cover the distance that held them prisoners. If he stayed, therefore, he would for ever lose his native land, the sea, Thessa, everything that had succoured him and helped him get to that land.

Would he be able to live there, submerge himself in that friendly but strange life when his comrades were no longer with him, comrades who had been tested in times of peril and on whose friendship he had unwittingly become accustomed to depend at all times? After long contemplation Pandion’s heart told him the right answer.

Would it not, ‘moreover, be treachery to leave those friends who had saved him and-thanks to whom he was well again?

No, he must go with them and leave half his heart behind him in this foreign land!

Pandion’s will was not strong enough to withstand this trial. He seized the hands of his comrades, who were watching with alarm the mental struggle that was reflected in his face, and began to beseech them not to leave so soon. What did it matter, now that they were free, if they remained there a little longer, rested before undertaking a long journey and got a better knowledge of the country. ‘

Kidogo hesitated, for he was very fond of Pandion. But Cavius frowned still more sternly.

“Come inside, there are other eyes and ears here,” he said, pushing Pandion into their house; he himself went out and returned with a burning brand and lit a small torch. He thought it would be easier to cure Pandion of his indecision if it were light.

“What do you hope for if we stay here?” asked the Etruscan in stern tones, his words cutting right into Pandion’s heart. ”Especially if you intend to go in the end. Or do you want to take her with you?”

The thought that Iruma should go with them on their long journey had not entered Pandion’s mind, and he shook his head.

“Then I don’t understand you,” said Cavius brusquely. “Do you think that none of the others have found girls here that they like? Still none of them wavered at the conference, when they had to choose between a woman and their native land; not a soul thought of staying here. Iruma’s father, the hunter, thinks that you are not coming with us. He likes you, and your bravery is common knowledge amongst the — people. He said that he is ready to take you into his house! Surely you will not leave us and forget your own country for the sake of a girl?”

Pandion lowered his head. He could not explain to Cavius why he was wrong. How could Pandion tell him that he had not merely given way to passion? How could he explain how Iruma had affected him as an artist? On the other hand, the brutal truth of the Etruscan’s words stung him; he had forgotten that other peoples have different laws and customs. If he remained there, he would have to become a hunter and merge his life with the life of the people. Such was the inevitable price he would have to pay for happiness with Iruma… Then again, Iruma alone was all that was near to him in this land. The serene, hot expanses of the golden plain bore no resemblance to his own country, to the noisy and mobile expanses of the sea. And the girl was a part of that world, while he had not yet ceased to feel himself a temporary guest there… There, far in the distance, his native land shone like a beacon light. If that light went out, would he be able to live without it?

Cavius made a long pause in order to give Pandion an opportunity to think and then began again:

“You will become her husband only to leave her shortly afterwards and go away. Do you think her people will let us go in peace and help us? You will be paying them poorly for their hospitality. The punishment that you fully deserve will fall on all of us… And why are you so certain that the others of your party are willing to wait? They will not agree, and I am with them!”

Cavius stopped and then, as though a little ashamed at the brusqueness of his words, added:

“My heart aches, for when I reach the sea I shall not have a friend who is skilled in the sailing of ships. My Remdus is dead and all my hopes rested on you — you have sailed the sea, you learnt from the Phoenicians…” Cavius lowered his head and sat silent.

Kidogo ran over to Pandion and hung a bag on a long leather thong round his — neck.

“I looked after that for you while you were ill,” said the Negro. “It’s your sea amulet… It helped you defeat the rhinoceros, it will help us find our way to the sea if you go with us…”

Pandion remembered the stone that Yakhmos had given him. Until that moment, he had completely forgotten that gleaming symbol of the sea in the same way as he had forgotten many other things. He heaved a deep sigh. At that moment a tall man with a long spear in his hand entered the house. It was the father of Iruma. He sat down on the floor with natural ease, tucked his legs up under him and gave Pandion a friendly smile.

“I’ve come to you on an important matter,” he said, turning to Cavius. “You told us that you have decided to leave for your own country one sun from today.”

Cavius nodded his head in affirmation but did not speak, waiting for what was to come next. Pandion looked with disturbed feelings at Iruma’s father, who behaved with simple dignity.

“The journey is a long one, and there are many wild beasts lying in wait for man in the plains and in the forest,” continued the hunter. “You have but poor weapons. Remember, stranger: you cannot fight against beasts as you do against people. Swords, arrows and knives are good for use against man but against beasts the spear is better. Only the spear can stop an animal and reach its heart from a distance. Your spears are useless in our country.” He pointed to the thin Egyptian spear with its bronze head leaning against the wall. “This is the sort you need!”

Iruma’s father laid the weapon he had brought on Cavius’ knees and removed the long leather bag that covered it.

The heavy spear was more than four cubits long. Its shaft, two fingers thick, was made of hard, firm wood that was polished like bone. The shaft was slightly thickened in the middle where it was covered with the rough skin of the hyena. Instead of the usual spearhead it was surmounted by a blade, three fingers wide and a cubit long, made of light-coloured hard material — the rare and precious iron.;

Cavius touched the sharpened edge of the blade thoughtfully, tested the weight of the weapon and with a sigh returned it to its owner.

The latter smiled, studying the impression he had produced, and then said cautiously:

“It takes a lot of hard work to make a spear like this… The metal for it is obtained by a neighbouring people, who sell it at a high price. But that spear will save you time and again in mortal struggle…”

Cavius could not guess what the hunter was driving at and kept silent.

“You brought strong bows from Tha-Quem with you,” continued the hunter. “We cannot make such bows and want to exchange spears for them. The chiefs have agreed to give you two spears for each bow, and the spears, in my opinion, will be of more service to you.”

Cavius glanced inquiringly at Kidogo and the Negro nodded his head in support of the hunter’s opinion.

“‘There is plenty of game in the plains,” said Kidogo, “and we shall not need any arrows, but it will be worse in the forest. Still, the forest is a long way off, and six spears in place of three bows will be of more use against wild beasts.”

Cavius thought for a while, then agreed to the exchange and began to haggle. The hunter, however, was not to be moved — he pointed to the great value of the weapons he offered. They would never have given two spears for a bow, he said, if they had not wanted to know how the bows of the Black Land were made.

“Good!” said the Etruscan. “We would have given you our bows as a gift in return for your hospitality if we had not been travelling so far. We accept your terms. Tomorrow you will receive the bows.”

The hunter’s face beamed, he slapped Cavius’ hand, raised the spear, examined the red reflection of the torch on the blade and covered it again with the little leather bag, decorated with pieces of different-coloured skin.

Cavius held out his hand, but the hunter did not give him the weapon.

“Tomorrow you will get six spears as good as this. But this one…” Iruma’s father made a slight pause, “this one I bring as a gift to your friend Golden Eyes. Iruma stitched the bag herself. Look how pretty it is!”

The hunter held out the spear to the young Hellene, who took it hesitantly.

“You are not going with them,” said Iruma’s father, pointing to Cavius and the Negro, “but a good spear is the first thing a hunter needs, and I want you to make my family famous when you become my son!”

Kidogo and Cavius peered into the face of their friend, and the Negro pressed his fingers till they cracked. The decisive moment had come unexpectedly.

Pandion turned pale and suddenly, with a sharp gesture of dismissal, returned the spear to the hunter.

“You refuse my gift? How is that to be understood?” shouted the hunter.

“I’m going with my companions,” muttered Pandion with difficulty.

Iruma’s father stood immobile, staring at Pandion without saying a word; then he hurled the spear down at his feet.

“Let it be so, but don’t dare so much as look at my daughter again. I’ll send her away today!”

Pandion stared at the hunter with wide-open, unwinking eyes. The genuine grief that distorted his manly face softened the wrath of Iruma’s father.

“You found courage enough to make your decision before it was too late,” he said. “But if you are going, go immediately…”

The hunter again gave Pandion a saturnine glare, examined him from head to foot and made an inarticulate sound.

As he left the house Iruma’s father turned to Cavius.

“What I have said holds good,” he said rudely and disappeared into the darkness.

Kidogo was greatly troubled at the gleam in Pandion’s eyes but realized that he would have no time for his friends at that moment. Pandion stood staring into space as though he were asking the distant expanses how he should act. He turned slowly round, threw himself on his bed and covered his face with his hands.

Cavius lit a new torch — he did not want to leave Pandion alone in the darkness with his thoughts. He and Kidogo tried to keep awake without speaking. From time to time they looked at their friend in alarm but could not do anything to help him.

The time passed slowly and night fell. Pandion moved on his bed, jumped up and stood listening and then rushed towards the door. Cavius’ broad shoulders, however, barred the way, and Pandion was brought up short against his folded arms and frowned wrathfully.

“Let me out!” shouted Pandion impatiently. “I can’t help it, I must say farewell to Iruma if she hasn’t been sent away yet.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” answered Cavius. “You’ll ruin her, yourself and all of us!”

Pandion did not reply to that but tried to push the Etruscan out of his way; but Cavius stood firm.

“You’ve made your decision, so that’s enough, don’t make her father more angry,” continued Cavius in an effort to convince his friend. “Just think of what might happen.”

Pandion pushed Cavius still harder but received in return a blow in the chest that made him step back. Kidogo, seeing the clash between his friends, did not know what to do. Pandion clenched his teeth and his eyes gleamed with the fire of wrath. With dilated nostrils he rushed at Cavius. The Etruscan rapidly pulled out his knife and, holding it with the hilt towards Pandion, said:

“Here you are, strike!”

Pandion was dumbfounded.

Cavius thrust out his chest, placed his left hand on his heart and with his right continued offering the dagger to Pandion.

“Strike, strike here! In any case I won’t let you out of here other than over my dead body! Kill me and then go!” shouted the infuriated Cavius.

This was the first time Pandion had seen his morose and wise friend in such a state. He turned away, groaned helplessly, staggered over to his own bed, fell on it and turned his back on his comrades.

Cavius was breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow and returned the knife to its place.

“We must watch him all night and leave as quickly as possible,” he said to Kidogo, who was quite frightened. “At dawn you’ll warn all the others to make ready.”

Pandion heard the Etruscan’s words quite clearly and realized that they meant him to have no opportunity of seeing Iruma. lie felt that he was being asphyxiated, there was an almost physical sense of being in a confined space. He struggled with himself, mustering all his will power, and gradually the violent despair, that was almost madness, gave way to calm sorrow.

Once more the hot plains of Africa opened up before twenty-seven stubborn men who were determined to reach their homes, come what might.

After the rains the twelve-cubit-high elephant grass had formed ears and stood so dense that even the huge elephant was hidden in its stiflingly hot thickets. Kidogo explained to Pandion why they must hurry: soon the period of the rains would be over and the plain would begin to burn up and would turn into a lifeless, ash-covered expanse where they would find no food.

Pandion agreed in silence. His sorrow was still too fresh. Once amongst those to whom he owed so much, he felt that the bonds of male friendship were again binding him, that the urge to go forward, the thirst of battle, were growing in him and that the desire to reach Oeniadae as soon as possible was becoming more powerful.

Despite his great longing for Iruma, it was only now that Pandion felt his former self, stepping out firmly on the chosen path without further alarm. The artist’s former hungry attention to the forms and colours of nature had returned, and he was filled with the wish to create.

The twenty-seven strong men were armed with spears, assegais, knives and a few shields. The former slaves, tried and tested in battle and misfortunes, constituted a considerable force and need have no fear of the numerous wild beasts.

The road through the high elephant grass was beset with dangers. They were forced to march in single file, keeping to the narrow paths made by animals and seeing before them nothing but the back of the man in front. Danger threatened them every minute in the high walls of rustling grass to the right and left. At any moment the grass might part and make way for a lurking lion, an infuriated rhinoceros or the huge towering body of a malicious lone elephant. The grass separated the men; it was worse for those who brought up the rear since they could be attacked by an animal that had been aroused by those in front. In the mornings the grass was covered with a cold dew and a glittering haze of water dust hung over men whose bodies were wet as though from rain. At the hottest part of the day the dew disappeared completely and dry dust, falling from the tops of the grass-stalks, irritated their throats; it was stifling in the narrow corridors through which they passed.

On the third day of the march a leopard pounced on the bold Libyan Takel who brought up the rear; it was only by a lucky chance that the young man escaped with a few scratches. Next day a huge clark-maned lion attacked Pandion and his Negro neighbour. The spear given him by Iruma’s father stopped the lion; his companion, picking up the shield Pandion had dropped in his surprise at the sudden attack, fell on the lion from behind. The animal turned to face its new attacker and fell, pierced by three spears. Kidogo came running up, panting with excitement, when all was over and the warriors, breathing heavily, were wiping the already coagulating blood of the lion from their spears. The beast lay almost imperceptible in the matted brown grass. The others all came running up and loud shouts rose over the scene of the conflict. All the former slaves were trying to convince two squat Negroes, Dhlomo and Mpafu, who, together with Kidogo, were leading the party, that before much longer the beasts would kill somebody. They had to find a way round the tall grass of the plain. The guides did not think of contradicting them. The party turned due south and by evening approached a long strip of forest that led in the required direction. Pandion was already acquainted with this type of forest, a green, vaulted corridor over the narrow stream of a plains river. Such forest galleries cut across the plains in various directions, following the course of the rivers.

The travellers were lucky: there were no thorn-bushes under the trees and no lianas to make impenetrable barriers between the trees; the party was able to make good time winding its way amongst the trees to avoid their giant roots. The rustling of the grass in the stifling atmosphere of glaring sunlight gave way to profound silence and cool semi-darkness. The forest stretched for a long way. Day after day the party marched under trees, going out occasionally into the grass for game or climbing the lower trees on the verge of the forest to check the direction they were taking.

Although it was easier and less dangerous under cover of the trees, Pandion was oppressed by the darkness and silence of the mysterious forest. Memories of his meeting with Iruma returned to him. He felt that he had suffered an enormous loss, and his sorrow veiled the whole world in a grey haze; the unknown future was as gloomy and silent and dark as the forest they were travelling through.

Pandion felt that the dark road through the monotonous colonnade of huge trees, the alternate patches of darkness and sunlight, the alternate depressions and hillocks, must be endless. It led into the unknown distance, striking still deeper into the heart of a strange, alien land, where everything was unfamiliar, and only a group of faithful friends saved him from certain death.

The sea, towards which he was hurrying, had seemed near and easily attainable when he had been a captive, but now seemed immeasurably far away, separated from him by thousands of obstacles, by months of difficult journeying. The sea had taken him from Iruma and was itself unattainable…

The forest path led the travellers into a swamp, that stretched away to the horizon on all sides, hidden in the distance by the green gloom of excessive humidity and in the mornings encircled by a low blanket of white mist. Flocks of white egrets sailed over the sea of rushes.

Cavius, Pandion and the Libyans, puzzled by this great barrier, gazed in perplexity at the bright green thicket of swamp plants with patches of water that seemed to be burning in the sun. The guides were exchanging satisfied glances — they were on the right road, their fortnight’s journey had not been made in vain.

Next day the whole party set about binding the light porous ambag* rushes, whose angular stalks grew ten cubits high, into rafts. (Ambag — Herminera elaphroxylon, a water reed that grows to well over 20 feet in height.)After that they sailed past dense jungles of brush-headed papyrus grass, winding their way between floating islands of grass piled up with reddish-brown masses of dried, broken reeds. There were two or three men on each raft who cautiously punted them along with long poles that plunged rhythmically into the silt of the swamp.

The stinking, dark water seemed like thick oil. Bubbles of marsh-gas rose to the surface where the poles dug into the bottom and sticky mildew made a rusty-brown, lacy border along the green walls of the reeds. Not a dry place was to be seen all round them, the humid heat was exhausting and a merciless sun beat down on their perspiring bodies. In the evening myriads of midges came to torment them. It was the greatest good fortune to find a hillock that was still above water where they

The foul water and rotting vegetation abounded in reptiles of all sorts. Gigantic crocodiles gathered in hundreds on sand-banks or peeped out from the green wall, their bodies half hidden in the reeds. At night the monsters gave voice. Their low, rumbling roar filled the people with horror. There was no fury or menace in the roar of the crocodiles — there was something soulless and passionless in those low jerky notes that rolled over the still waters in the darkness of night.

The travellers came across a shallow cove in which were a number of conical hillocks of silt, half washed away, about a cubit and a half in height. The brown1 water exuded an unbearably foul smell; the hills were covered with a coating of guano. The Negroes told the others that this was one of the nesting places of the flamingo, the big rosy-coloured bird, that at other times was to be found in large numbers in the swamps.

Several of the travellers, mostly Libyans, took sick from the foul smells and bad water. They were tormented by a cruel fever and lay helpless on the rafts at the feet of their companions.

On the fifth day of their journey they began to meet more frequent stretches of clear water out of which treetops stuck up. Pandion, in his astonishment, asked Kidogo the meaning of this. His black friend told him with a smile that their troubles would soon be over.

“In the dry season,” said the Negro, plunging his pole into the deep water, “everything here is dried up by the sun; these floods come after the rains.”

“What river is it?” asked Pandion.

“There are two rivers* here, not one, and a long string of swamps between them,” answered the Negro. “In the dry season there’s almost no water in the rivers.”

(Two rivers — the Bahr el Arab and the Bahr el Qhazal, that formerly carried more water than they do today.)

Kidogo, as was always the case in those last few days, was right. Soon the rafts struck on the silty bottom of the marsh and in front of them the earth sloped upwards, merging into a level plain. This plain was covered by a special kind of grass with silver-white ears and when the sun shone on it it looked like a continuation of the level surface of the water. It was with feelings of great relief that the travellers, waist-deep in mud, scaring the crocodiles with loud shouts, scrambled out of the swamp on to solid, hot land. They were greeted by the wind, fresh and dry, that drove away the heavy smells of the swamplands. The group reached an eminence on which grew bushes with bluish-green leaves and orange-coloured fruits the size of an egg.

Here they found fresh water and decided to make camp. Around their encampment they built a fence of thorn bushes six cubits high. The Negroes gathered a big pile of the orange fruits, that proved to be tasty and tender, and also some leaves whose sap they used to treat the people suffering from fever. Those who were healthy slept as much as they needed to recuperate their strength and the sores that had formed from the bites of swamp insects soon healed up. For several days in succession there had been no rain. In the mornings it was very chilly and the Negroes of the party suffered considerably from the cold.

Soon the travellers were able to continue their journey. For twenty-five days they marched across the plain. Now there were only nineteen of them left, eight others had left after crossing the swamp and gone away northwards to their homes which lay no more than ten days march away. No matter how much they tried to persuade the others to go with them, the stubborn nineteen continued their way to the sea.

A grey haze ‘Covered the heavens that were still glaringly bright. At night the sky was frequently overcast with heavy clouds, the terrible, unceasing roar of thunder swept over the plains; but not a single flash of lightning cut through the velvety blackness of the night, not a drop of rain fell on the dried-up grass and heat-cracked earth. The plain was dotted with small hillocks, some cone-shaped, others like towers with rounded tops, ten cubits high. These hills of clay, hard as bricks, were inhabited by hordes of big insects, resembling ants, whose powerful jaws made them dangerous.

Pandion had already grown accustomed to the great variety of animal life; he was no longer astonished at the giraffes or at troops of elephants a thousand strong. Then he saw a herd of strange striped animals, coloured black and white. They resembled the horses of Oeniadae, except that they were smaller, had thin legs and wide croups that curved sharply towards the animal’s back, a gracefully curved upper lip, short tails and manes. Pandion watched with interest the big herds of them that gathered at the drinking places. He dreamed of catching some of the striped horses and breaking them in for riding. When he shared his ideas with Kidogo and the other Negroes, they laughed loudly and for a long time. The Negroes explained to him that the striped animals were strong, bad-tempered and untamable, and that although they might succeed in catching a few of the more tractable ones, they would never be able to get the two dozen that they needed for their journey even if they spent ten years on the task.

Pandion’s second disappointment came when they met with the buffaloes. He saw the massive dark bodies of the bulls with their wide horns turned up at the ends, and crawled up to the nearest so as to bring it down with his spear; Kidogo hastened to throw himself on Pandion and held him pressed to the ground with all the weight of his body. The Negro assured his friend that the buffaloes were virtually the most terrible of all animals in the southern countries, and they could only be hunted with bows and arrows or assegais; hunting them with a spear was certain death. Pandion obeyed the Negro and hid in the bushes with the others, although Kidogo’s fear of the buffaloes remained incomprehensible to him: he considered the rhinoceros or the elephant far more dangerous.

Their path was often intersected by rocky ridges, ranges of hills or groups of eroded rocks. In such places they came across baboons, repulsive, dog-headed creatures. When the men approached them these monkeys would gather on the rocks or under the trees and gaze fearlessly at the strangers, making insolent grimaces at them. Pandion looked with disgust at those naked, dog-like faces with their blue distended cheeks, framed in stiff thick hair, and at their waggling hind-quarters with the red, calloused bare patches. The monkeys were dangerous. Once Cavius was incensed by the behaviour of three of them who barred his way, and struck one with his spear. A serious battle took place at the foot of the crags. The travellers were lucky to get away without suffering any losses although they had to retreat with the greatest possible alacrity.

On the twenty-fifth day of their journey across the imperceptibly rising country a dark line appeared on the horizon. Kidogo gave a shout of joy as he pointed to it; that line was the beginning of the great forest, the last obstacle they had to overcome. Beyond the densely wooded mountains lay the long-awaited sea, the reliable road home.

By midday the party reached a grove of palm-trees whose strange shape astonished Pandion. These were the first palm-trees they had seen in the plains that resembled the date-palms of Aigyptos. Each of the tall, straight trunks rose ‘directly out of the middle of a star of shadow cast by its own crown. The dry soil between the black stars of the shadows looked like white-hot metal. The disposition of the shadows told Pandion that at midday the sun was exactly over his head. He spoke to Cavius about this. The Etruscan shrugged his shoulders in perplexity but Kidogo said that it was really so. The farther they went to the south the higher the sun rose although nobody knew the reason for it. The old people said that there is a legend to the effect that a lot farther to the south the sun gets lower again.

Pandion did not have much time to ponder over this problem — his thirsty companions were hurrying to get to water. During their midday bivouac Kidogo told them that by evening they would reach the trees and that their further road lay through forests — and mountains that stretched to the end of the earth.

“Over there,” the Negro pointed to the right, “and over there,” the Negro’s hand swung round to the left, “there are rivers, but we cannot travel along them. The right-hand river turns north to the great fresh sea on the edge of the northern desert; the left-hand river turns south and would take us far from the place we want to reach. {Apart from that there are strong tribes living along the rivers, who eat human flesh and would kill us all. We must go straight as an arrow to the south-west between the two rivers. The dark forests are deserted and safe; |in the mountains there are no people since all fear the thunder and the dark thickets. There are few animals here, but we, too, are few and can feed ourselves by hunting and collecting fruits.”

(The right-hand river — the modern Shari. The left-hand river — the Ubangi, the main tributary of the Congo).

Pandion, Cavius and the Libyans were troubled by indefinite fears as they looked doubtfully at the dark forest that stretched before them.