Ivan Efremov. The Land of Foam
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TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN BY GEORGE H.HANNA
FOREIGN LANGUAGES PUBLISHING HOUSE
Moscow
OCR: http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/
The title of the original: Na krayu Ojkumeny
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In 1922, when Ivan Yefremov, at the age of 16, passed his matriculation
examination in Petrograd, it is doubtful whether he even thought that one
day he might become a writer.
He had been early left an orphan and went through the Civil War as the
protege of a Red Army Regiment. He had read many books, but the one with the
wonderful pictures and descriptions of strange animals had always attracted
him more than any other.
... Academician Sushkin's study opened its doors to him without any
letters of recommendation - the Academician devoted the youngster the hours
torn from the days already packed tight with work; it was something of great
significance, something they both had in common, that brought the
fifty-five-year-old scholar and the sixteen-year-old boy together.
In 1927 Ivan Yefremov published his first scientific paper A
Description of the Habitats of Ancient Amphibians. Other scholarly papers
followed one after another and in 1935 their author was granted the degree
of Candidate of Science. Five years later he earned the degree of Doctor.
His constant search for extinct animals had taken him to the Far North,
Eastern Siberia, Yakutia, the Urals, the Far East, Central and Inner Asia,
Mongolia and Western China -- always following untrodden paths.
In 1943 the scholar launched out as a writer of popular
science-fiction; among his books are the romances Stellar Ships and
Baurjed's Travels.
The romance The Land of Foam appeared in 1949; it is a story of the art
and culture of ancient Greece and ancient Egypt, of the people inhabiting
the world of those days; the varying landscape of Africa is shown in all its
awe-inspiring grandeur. A young Hellene, Pandion, is enslaved by the
Egyptians, escapes and on his way back home has many thrilling adventures.
With his friends, the Negro Kidogo, and Etruscan Cavius, he crosses the
African continent and on reaching the sea carves a wonderful cameo, a symbol
of friendship and loyalty.
In 1954 Yefremov finished his book The Road of the Winds, describing a
16, 000-mile journey in search of extinct animals in the windswept steppes
of Mongolia. In 1957 he published a new popular-scientific romance The
Galaxy of Andromeda the action of which takes place 2,500 years from now.
Yefremov's is a twin talent, that of the scientist who strives for
knowledge and the writer who must speak. Had he not been a scholar he would
probably not have been such a writer, and if the scholar had not been an
artist he would certainly not have been such a scholar.
CHAPTER I. THE SCULPTOR'S APPRENTICE
CHAPTER II. THE LAND OF FOAM
CHAPTER III. THE SLAVE OF PHARAOH
CHAPTER IV. THE FIGHT FOR FREEDOM
CHAPTER V. THE GOLDEN PLAIN
CHAPTER VI. THE ROAD OF DARKNESS
CHAPTER VII. THE MIGHT OF THE FOREST
CHAPTER VIII. THE SONS OF THE WIND
A fresh autumn breeze swept over the ruffled surface of the Neva. In
the bright sunshine the tall, slim spire on the Fortress of Peter and Paul
was a streak of gold piercing the blue canopy of the sky. Below it Palace
Bridge gracefully curved its broad back over rising and falling waves that
sparkled and splashed against the granite steps of the embankment.
A young sailor sitting on a bench glanced at his watch, jumped up and
walked off rapidly along the embankment past the Admiralty building whose
yellow walls reared their crown of white columns high into the transparent
autumn air. He walked quickly, paying no attention to the holiday atmosphere
that surrounded him. He strode along with a light and confident step, the
exercise warmed him, and he pushed his sailor cap on to the back of his
head. He crossed a garden whose trees were aflame with autumn tints, passed
along one side of an open space and for a moment stood before the entrance
to the Hermitage Museum where two polished granite giants supported a
massive balcony raised over a humped pavement. Scars made by German bombs
were still to be seen on the giant bodies. The young man entered the heavy
doors, took off his greatcoat and hurried towards a white marble staircase
leading from the semi-gloom of the vestibule to a brightly-lit colonnade
surrounded by a row of marble statues.
A tall, slim girl, smiling with pleasure, came to meet him. Her
attentive eyes, set wide apart, seemed to grow darker and warmer. The sailor
looked at the girl in some embarrassment but when he saw that she was just
putting her cloak-room check into her open bag he knew that he was not late.
His face lit up and he confidently proposed starting their tour of the
museum with the Gallery of Antiquities.
The young people passed through the crowd of visitors, making their way
along rows of columns supporting a brightly painted ceiling. After looking
at the remains of vases and stone slabs bearing inscriptions in 'unknown
languages, dismal, black statues from ancient Egypt, sarcophagi, mummies and
other funereal appurtenances that seemed even more depressing in the gloomy
galleries of the lower story, they felt the need for bright colours and
sunshine. The youth and the girl hurried to reach the upper rooms. Passing
through two more rooms they made their way to a side staircase that led to
the upper galleries from a small room with tall, narrow windows through
which gleamed a pale sky. A number of conical octagonal show-cases stood
between the white columns but the small items of ancient art exhibited in
them did not seem to attract the attention of visitors.
Suddenly the girl's eyes caught a patch of marvellous blue-green light
in the third show-case; it was so brilliant that it seemed to be a source of
light in itself. The girl led her companion to the show-case. A flat stone
with round edges lay on a sloping bed of silver-coloured velvet. The stone
was extraordinarily pure and translucent, its glowing blue-green colour was
unexpectedly joyous, brilliant and deep. On the upper surface, obviously
polished by the hand of man, cleanly-cut human figures, no bigger than one's
little finger, stood out in sharp relief.
The colour, brilliance and light emanating from the transparent stone
formed a striking contrast to the dull severity of the gallery and the pale
tones of the autumn sky.
The girl heard her companion heave a deep sigh and noticed in his eyes
a dreamy look that bespoke memories evoked by the stone.
"That's just like the southern sea on a fine afternoon," said the young
sailor slowly; the absolute confidence of one who has seen things resounded
in his words.
"That's something I've never seen," replied the girl, "only I feel some
sort of depth in that stone, some sort of light and joy... . I can't exactly
explain... . Where do people find stones like this?"
Neither the general heading over the four show-cases: Antae Burials:
7th Century, Middle Dnieper, River Ros, nor the label on the show-case
itself: Grebenets Burial Mound, Ancient Clan Shrine-told the young people
anything. The other objects that surrounded the wonderful stone were equally
incomprehensible: broken knives and spearheads so ugly and damaged by rust
as to be unrecognisable, flat bowls, and some sort of pendants of blackened
bronze and silver in the form of a trapezium.
"All this was dug up in Kiev Region," the young man hazarded a guess,
"but I've never heard that stones like that are found anywhere in the
Ukraine. . . . Who could we ask?" And the young man looked round the big
gallery.
It was just their bad luck that there was not a single museum guide
anywhere within sight, nobody but the woman caretaker on her chair near the
staircase.
From the staircase came the sound of footsteps and a tall man in a
carefully pressed black suit came down into the gallery. From the way the
caretaker got up and greeted him with deference the girl guessed rightly
that he was a man of importance in the museum. She gave her companion a
quiet nudge but he was already on his way to meet the newcomer; standing to
attention, sailor-fashion, he began:
"May I ask you something?"
"Certainly. What is it you want to know?" said the scientist, screwing
up his near-sighted eyes to examine the young couple.
The sailor told him what had interested them. The scientist laughed.
"You have a nose for good things, young man!" he exclaimed approvingly.
"You've lighted on one of the most interesting exhibits in our museum! Did
you examine the carving closely? No? Too small? And what do you think this
thing is for? Look!" He reached up and took hold of a wooden frame hinged to
the upper edge of the show-case and lowered it over the glass. A big
magnifying glass came into position exactly opposite the stone. He pressed a
switch and a bright light was thrown on its surface. More interested than
ever the young couple peered through the magnifying glass. The enlarged
carving seemed to come to life. On one edge of the transparent, blue-green
stone, fine but scanty lines traced the nude figure of a girl standing with
her right hand raised to her cheek. Rolls of thick, curly hair lay on her
delicately moulded shoulders. The face had been carved with great attention
to detail.
The remaining part of the stone was filled by three male figures, their
arms round each other's shoulders; these figures were drawn with far greater
skill than that of the girl.
The shapely muscular figures had been caught in motion. There was
something dynamic in the turn of the bodies, strong, urgent and at the same
time restrained. The big man in the centre, taller than those on either side
of him, had thrown his mighty arms round their shoulders. The side figures,
armed with spears, stood with their heads bent attentively. The poses
expressed the tense vigilance of warriors ready at any moment to repulse the
attack of an enemy.
The three tiny figures were the work of a great artist. The basic
idea-fraternity, friendship and the common struggle-was expressed with
extraordinary force.
The charm of the bright, transparent stone, that served both as
material and as background, greatly enhanced the beauty of the cameo. A
limpid, warm tint that seemed to emanate from the depths of the cold
transparent stone tinged the bodies of the three embracing men with the
golden joy of sunshine. . . .
Under the figures and on the smooth, lower edge some incomprehensible
marks had been hurriedly and irregularly scratched.
"Have you had a good look? I can see you're thrilled with it." The
voice of the archaeologist gave the young people a start. "Good. If you
like, I'll tell you something about that stone? It is one of the riddles
that we sometimes meet in the historical documents of the past. Listen while
I tell you just what the riddle is. That stone is a beryl, in general not a
particularly rare mineral, although blue-green beryls of such pure water are
rare enough; they are found in South Africa and nowhere else in the world.
That's the first point. The carving on the stone is a cameo and ornaments of
this type were greatly admired in Greece when ancient Hellenic art was at
its best. Now the beryl is a very hard stone and such a carving could only
have been made with a diamond which the Greek sculptors did not have. That's
the second point. Next, take the three male figures-the central one is
undoubtedly a Negro, the one on the right a Hellene, and that on the left,
one of the Mediterranean peoples, probably a Cretan or an Etruscan. Lastly,
the quality and technique indicate that the work belongs to the most
flourishing period in the history of Greece; nevertheless there are a number
of features that show that it was made at a much earlier date. And then, the
spears are of a peculiar shape unknown in either Greece or Egypt. . . . So
you see there are several contradictions, a number of incompatible indicants
... but despite them the cameo exists, it's before your eyes. . . ."
The archaeologist paused and then continued in the same abrupt way:
"There are many more historical riddles. All of them tell us one thing:
how little we know. We have very little knowledge of how the ancient peoples
lived. Amongst the Scythian works of art in our gold repository, for
example, we have a gold buckle. It is two thousand six hundred years old and
carries the image of the extinct sabre-toothed tiger in all its details.
Yes, yes, and the palaeontologists will tell you that the sabre-toothed
tiger became extinct three hundred thousand years ago. . . . Ha! And in
Egyptian tombs you will see frescoes on which every kind of animal found in
Egypt is drawn with amazing accuracy. Amongst them is an unknown animal of
tremendous size that looks like a giant hyena-such an animal is unknown in
Egypt, in all Africa, in fact. And then, in the Cairo Museum, there is a
statue of a girl found in the ruins of the city of Akhetaton, built in the
14th century B.C.-she is not an Egyptian and the work is not Egyptian, it is
like something from another world. My colleagues will tell you that it is
con-ven-tion-al-ized," drawled the archaeologist with a touch of sarcasm.
"In connection with this I always like to recall another story. On those
same Egyptian wall paintings you often come across a little fish. Just a
tiny fish with nothing special about it except that it is always drawn
upside down, belly upwards. How could the Egyptians, whose drawings are
always so precise, draw such an unnatural fish. Explanations, of course,
were forthcoming: it was explained away by conventionalism, by religion, by
the influence of the cult of the god Amon. The conclusions were quite
convincing and everybody was satisfied. Then it was discovered that there is
a fish in the Nile today exactly like the one in the paintings-it swims
belly upwards! Very instructive. But I'm running away with myself! Good-bye,
you'll find the riddles of history interesting. . . ."
"Just a minute, Professor!" exclaimed the girl. "Excuse me, but can't
you explain this riddle yourself. . . . Tell us what you think about the
stone. . . ." The girl stopped in embarrassment.
The archaeologist smiled.
"There's no getting away from you. All that I can tell you is sheer
guesswork, that's all. One thing is certain: real art reflects life, art
itself is living and can only rise to new heights in the struggle against
the old. In the distant past, when that cameo was carved, slavery,
oppression and lawlessness reigned supreme. Many people lived out their
lives in perpetual misery. There were slaves, however, who fought for their
emancipation, and oppressed people who rose up in arms against their
oppressors. And when one looks at this cameo one feels that the friendship
of the three warriors arose out of the fight for liberty... . Perhaps they
fled from 'slavery to their own countries. . . . I think that cameo is
further evidence of a struggle waged in a distant epoch and hidden from us
by time. It is even possible that the unknown artist also took part in the
fight. . . . Yes, he must certainly have been there, otherwise his work
could not have been so perfect. And look how both of you fixed your
attention on the cameo."
The young man and woman, overwhelmed by the mass of information they
had been given, again pressed close to the magnifying glass. The stone
seemed even more mysterious and incomprehensible to them.
The pure, clear and deep colour of the sea ... and on it the figures of
three men linked in fraternal embrace. The brilliant, scintillating stone
and the golden tinge on the perfect, undraped bodies stood out with even
greater force in the cold, dull gallery of the museum. . . . The young girl,
full of life and feminine charm, seemed to be standing on the seashore.
With a sigh the young sailor straightened his aching back. The girl
still kept her eyes on the stone. The shuffling of feet and the noise of an
approaching excursion group resounded down the corridors. Only then did the
girl tear herself away from the case. The switch clicked, the frame was
lifted and the blue-green crystal lay sparkling on its velvet bed.
"We'll come here again, won't we?" asked the sailor. "Of course we
shall," answered the girl. The young man took her gently by the arm and they
walked down the white marble staircase deep in thought.
I. THE SCULPTOR'S APPRENTICE
The flat rock jutted far out into the sea. It had retained the warmth
of day and the youth sitting there was not in the least disturbed by the
fresh gusts of wind that found their way between the cliffs. The sea,
invisible in the darkness of night, splashed faintly against the foot of the
rock.
The young man stared into the distance, contemplating the point at
which the end of that silver band called the Milky Way disappeared into the
darkness. He was watching the falling stars; a cluster of them had flashed
up to pierce the sky with their fiery needles, and disappear behind the
horizon, fading like burning arrows falling into the water. Again the fiery
arrows flashed across the heavens, flying into the unknown, to the fabled
lands that lay beyond the sea on the very borders of Oicumene. (
Oicumene-the name given by the ancient Greeks to the inhabited world which
was surrounded by water, Oceanos.)
"I will ask grandad where they fall," decided the youth and thought how
wonderful it would be to fly like that through the sky direct to some
unknown destination.
But then he was no longer a youth--a few more days and he would attain
the age of a warrior. He would never be a warrior, however, but would become
a famous artist, a sculptor of renown. His innate ability to see true forms
in nature, to sense and remember them, made him different from most
people... Or so his teacher, the sculptor Agenor, had told him. And so it
was, for there, where others passed indifferently by, he would halt in sheer
amazement, seeing that which he could neither comprehend nor explain. The
countless manifestations of nature charmed him by their constant mutations.
Later his vision grew clearer and he learned to distinguish the beautiful
and retain it in his memory. There was elusive beauty in all things, in the
curve of the crest of a running wave, in the locks of Thessa's hair when the
wind played in them, in the stately columns of the pine trunks and in the
menacing rocks that rose proudly over the seashore. From the moment he first
became conscious of this he had made the creation of beautiful forms his aim
in life. He wanted to show beauty to those unable to perceive it for
themselves. And what could be more beautiful than the human body! To mould
it, however, was the most difficult of all the arts. . . .
This told him why the living features he retained in his memory were
not to be found in the statues of the gods and heroes he saw all round him
and which he was being taught to make. Even the most skilled sculptors of
Oeniadae ( Oeniadae-Pandion's birthplace, at the south-western tip of
Northern Greece. The story belongs to the early period in Greek history,
before the classical era.) could not mould a convincing image of the living
human body.
The youth felt instinctively that certain features expressing joy, will
power, wrath or tenderness were crudely exaggerated, and to give this
artificial prominence to certain forcefully expressed features the artist
had sacrificed all else. But he must learn to depict life! Only then would
he become the greatest sculptor in his country and people would acclaim him
and admire the things he would create. His would be the first works of art
to perpetuate the beauty of life in bronze or stone!
The youth had been carried far away into the land of dreams when he was
aroused by a bigger wave crashing against the rock. A few drops of water
fell on the youth's face. He shivered, opened his eyes and smiled,
embarrassed, in the darkness. Oh, Gods! That dream was probably still far
away in the future. . . . In the meantime his teacher Agenor was constantly
upbraiding him for his clumsy work and for some reason or another the
teacher was always right. . . . And there was his grandfather. . . . Grandad
showed little interest in Pandion's progress as an artist, he was training
his grandson with a view to making him a famous wrestler. As though an
artist needed strength! Still, it was a good thing grandad had trained him
like that, had made him more than ordinarily strong and hardy; Pandion liked
to show his strength and prowess at the evening contests in the village,
when Thessa, his teacher's daughter, was present, and to note the gleam of
approbation in the girl's eyes.
With burning cheeks the youth jumped to his feet, every muscle in his
body tensed. He thrust out his chest as if to challenge the wind and raised
his face to the stars; suddenly he laughed softly.
He walked slowly to the edge, peered into the seemingly bottomless
gloom, gave a loud cry and sprang from the rock. The calm, silent night
immediately came to life. Below the rock there was the sea whose waters
wrapped his hot skin in a cooling embrace, sparkling with tiny dots of fire
around his arms and shoulders.
The waves, in their play, forced the youth upwards, striving to throw
him back. As he swam in the darkness he estimated the undulations of the
waves and confidently threw himself at the high crests that appeared
suddenly before him. It seemed to Pandion that the sea was bottomless and
boundless, that it merged with the dark sky in a single whole.
A big wave lifted the youth high above the sea and he saw a red light
far away along the coast. An easy stroke and the wave obediently carried the
youth to the shore, towards a scarcely visible grey patch of sand.
Shivering slightly from the cold he again climbed on to the flat rock,
took up his coarse woollen cloak, rolled it up, and set off at a run along
the beach towards the light of the fire.
The aromatic smoke of burning brushwood curled through the adjacent
thickets. The feeble light of the flames lit up the wall of a small hut
built of rough-hewn stones with the eaves of a thatched roof projecting over
it. The wide spreading branches of a single plane-tree protected the hut
from inclement weather. An old man in a grey cloak sat by the fire, deep in
thought. On hearing the approaching footsteps he turned towards them his
smiling wrinkled face the tan of which showed darker in the frame of a grey
curling beard. "Where have you been so long, Pandion?" asked the old man
reproachfully. "I've been back a long time and wanted to talk to you."
"I didn't think you'd come so soon," answered the youth. "I went to
bathe. And now I'm ready to listen to you all night, if you like." The old
man shook his head in refusal. "No, the talk will be a long one and you have
to be up early in the morning. I want to give you a trial tomorrow and you
will need all your strength. Here are some fresh cakes-I brought a new stock
of them with me-and here is the honey. It's a festive supper tonight: you
may eat as becomes a warrior-little and without greed."
The young man contentedly broke a cake and dipped the white, broken
edge into an earthen pot of honey. As he ate he kept his eyes fixed on his
grandfather who sat silently watching his grandson with a fond look. The
eyes of both, the old man and the youth, were alike and unusual; they
gleamed golden like the concentrated light of a sun-ray. There was a popular
belief that people with such eyes were descended from the earthly lovers of
the "Son of the Heights," Hyperion, the sun god.
"I thought about you after you'd gone today, Grandad," said the youth.
"Why is it that other bards live in good houses and eat their fill although
they know nothing but their songs? But you, Grandad, who know so much, who
make such wonderful songs, have to toil on the sea. The boat's too heavy for
you now and I'm your only helper. We haven't got a single slave."
The old man smiled and placed his gnarled hand on Pandion's curly head.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. Only one thing
will I say tonight: many different songs may be composed about the gods and
about people. If you are honest with yourself, if your eyes are open, your
songs will not sound pleasant to the lordly owners of the land and the
warrior chiefs. And you will have neither rich gifts, nor slaves, nor fame,
you will not be known in the great houses and you will not gain a livelihood
by your songs. . . . Time for bed," the old man broke off. "Look, the
Chariot of the Night ( Chariot of the Night-the Great Bear constellation.
Cf. Charles's Wain.-Tr.) is already turning to the other side of the
heavens. Its black horses travel fast and a man who wants to be strong must
rest. Come on." And the old man moved off towards the narrow doorway of his
miserable hut.
The old man awakened Pandion early next morning. The cold autumn was
drawing near; the sky was overcast with heavy clouds, a cutting wind rustled
in the dry reeds and in the few remaining leaves of the plane-tree. Under
his grandfather's stern and exacting guidance Pandion went through his
gymnastic exercises. Thousands and thousands of times, from early boyhood,
he had repeated them every day at sunrise and sunset, but today grandad
selected the most difficult exercises and increased their number.
Pandion hurled a heavy javelin, threw stones and jumped over obstacles
with a sack of sand on his shoulders. At last grandad fastened a heavy piece
of walnut wood to his left hand, placed a gnarled wooden club in his right
and tied a piece of a broken stone vase to his head. Restraining his
laughter for fear of wasting his breath, Pandion awaited a sign from his
grandfather and then set out at a run northwards, where the path from the
littoral ran round a steep, stony slope. He raced along the path like
lightning, scrambled up to the first ledge of a cliff, turned and came down
even faster. The old man met his grandson at the hut, relieved him of his
burden and then pressed his cheek to the lad's face to determine the degree
of tiredness from the rate of his breathing.
After a few seconds the youth said:
"I could run there and back many times before I would ask for a rest."
"Yes, I think you could," answered the old man slowly, and proudly
straightened his back. "You're fit to be a warrior, capable of fighting
tirelessly in battle and carrying heavy bronze accoutrements. My son, your
father, gave you health and strength, I have developed them in you and made
you bold and enduring." The old man cast a glance over the youth's figure,
allowing his eyes to rest on his broad, powerful chest and on the mighty
muscles that rippled under a skin without a single blemish. "I'm the only
relative you have," he continued, "and I'm old and weak; we've neither
wealth nor servants and our entire phralry ( Phratry- a union of several
clans Tribes grew out of several, phratries when the gentile social system
still predominated.)consists of three villages on a stony seashore. . . .
The world is great and there are many dangers besetting a lonely man. The
greatest of them is the loss of liberty, the possibility of being taken
captive and sent to slavery. This is why I have devoted so much time and
effort to making a warrior of you, a man of courage who is competent in all
matters of war. Now you are free to serve your people. Come, let us make
sacrifice to Hyperion, our patron, in honour of your attaining man's
estate."
Grandfather and grandson made their way along the patches of sedge
grass and reeds towards a narrow spit of land that reached far out into the
sea like a long wall.
Two thick oaks with wide spreading branches grew at the end of the
spit. Between them stood an altar built of rude limestone blocks behind
which was a blackened wooden post, crudely carved in the shape of a human
figure. This was an ancient temple dedicated to the local deity, the River
Achelous, which joined the sea there.
The mouth of the river was hidden in the green reeds and bushes
swarming with migratory birds from the north.
Before them stretched the mist-covered sea. Waves raced with a crash
against the point of a spit resembling the neck of some gigantic animal
holding its head under water.
The solemn roar of the waves, the shrill cries of the birds, the
whistling of the wind in the reeds and the rustling foliage of the oaks-all
these sounds merged into an uneasy, rumbling melody.
The old man lit a fire on the rude altar and threw a piece of meat and
a cake into the flames. When the sacrifice had been made, the old man led
Pandion to a big stone at the foot of a steep mossy cliff and bade him push
the stone aside. The youth did so with ease and then, following his
grandfather's instructions, thrust his hand into a deep crevice between two
strata of limestone. There was a rattle of metal and Pandion drew out a
bronze sword, a helmet and a wide belt of square copper plates serving as
armour for the lower part of the body- all of them dulled with patches of
verdigris.
"These are the arms of your father, who died young," said the
grandfather in a low voice. "A shield and bow you must acquire yourself."
The youth bent excitedly over the accoutrements and began carefully
cleaning off the verdigris.
The old man sat down on the stone, leaned his back against the cliff
and fell to watching his grandson and trying to hide his sorrow from him.
Pandion left his armour and in a burst of ecstasy threw himself on the
old man and embraced him. The old man placed an arm round the youth, feeling
the knots of his mighty muscles. It seemed to the grandfather that his
long-dead son was reborn in this youthful body, designed to overcome
obstacles.
The old man turned the youth's face towards himself and stared long
into the frank, golden eyes.
"Now you have to decide, Pandion: will you go at once to the chief of
our phratry to serve him as a warrior, or will you remain Agenor's
apprentice?"
"I shall remain with Agenor," answered Pandion without giving the
matter a second thought. "If I go now to the chief in the village I shall
have to stay there to live and eat in the company of the men and you will be
left here alone. I don't want to be parted from you and shall stay and help
you."
"No, Pandion, we must part company," said the old man, firmly but with
an effort.
The youth jumped back in astonishment but the old man's hand held him.
"I have fulfilled the promise I made my son, your father, Pandion,"
continued the old man. "Now you must, make your own way in life. You must
start on your life's road free, not burdened by the care of a helpless old
man. I am leaving our Oeniadae for fertile Elis, where my daughters live
with their husbands. When you become a famous sculptor you will be able to
find me. . . ."
The youth's heated protests only made the old man shake his head.
Pandion had said many tender, imploring and discontented words before he
finally realized that the old man had for years carried in his mind this
unalterable decision and that his experience of life made him implacable.
With a sad and heavy heart the youth spent the whole day with his
grandfather helping him prepare for his journey.
In the evening they sat down together on an upturned, newly caulked
boat, and the grandfather got out a lyre that had seen much in its time. The
strong, youthful voice of the aged bard carried along the beach, dying out
in the distance.
He sang a song filled with sadness, that recalled the regular beating
of the waves against the shore.
At Pandion's request the old man sang him the lays of the origin of
their race, and about neighbouring lands and peoples.
Aware of the fact that he was hearing the words for the last time, the
youth tried to catch every single one of them, striving to remember songs
that from earliest childhood had been closely bound up with the image of his
grandfather. Pandion pictured in his mind the ancient heroes who had united
the tribes.
The old bard sang of the stern beauties of his native land where all
things in nature are gods incarnate; he sang of the greatness of those who
loved life and conquered nature, instead of hiding from her in the temples
and turning their backs on the present day.
And the youth's heart beat furiously-it was as though he 'stood at the
beginning of roads leading into the unknown distance where every turn opened
up new and unexpected vistas.
That morning it seemed that the hot summer had returned. The clear blue
of the sky breathed heat, the still air was filled with the song of the
grasshoppers and the white cliffs and boulders gave off a dazzling
reflection of the sun. The sea had turned transparent and rippled idly along
the shore, for all the world like old wine in a giant cup.
When his grandfather's boat was lost to sight in the distance sorrow
gripped Pandion's breast like an iron band. He fell to the ground, resting
his head on his crossed arms. He felt himself a small boy, alone and
abandoned, who with the departure of his grandfather had lost part of his
own heart. Tears poured over Pandion's arms, but these were not the tears of
a child, they came in huge, separate drops that brought no relief.
His dreams of great deeds had receded far into the background. There
was nothing that could console him, he wanted to stay with his grandfather.
Slowly but surely came the realization that the loss was irreparable,
and Pandion made an effort to set his feelings under control. Ashamed of his
tears, he bit his lip, raised his head and gazed for a long time into the
distant sea, until his confused thoughts again began to flow smoothly and
consistently. He rose to his feet, his eyes swept over the sun-warmed shore
and the hut under the plane-tree, and again he was overcome by unutterable
sorrow. He realized that the carefree days of his youth were past, never
again to return with their semi-childish dreams.
Pandion plodded his way slowly to the hut. Here he buckled on his sword
and wrapped his other possessions in his cloak. He fastened the door
securely so that storms might not enter the hut and went off along a stony
path swept clean by the sea winds, the harsh dry grass swishing mournfully
under his feet. The path led to a hill covered with dark green bushes whose
sun-warmed leaves gave off the strong odour of pressed olives. At the foot
of the hill the path branched into two-the right-hand path leading to a
group of fishermen's huts on the seashore, the other continuing along the
river-bank to the town. Pandion took the left-hand path and passed the hill;
his feet sank into hot white dust and the singing of myriads of grasshoppers
drowned the noise of the sea. The stony slope of the hill disappeared in a
wealth of trees where its foot reached the river. The long narrow leaves of
the oleanders and the heavy green of the bay-trees were overshadowed by the
dense foliage of huge walnut-trees, the whole merging into a curling mass
that seemed almost black against the white background of limestone.
Pandion's path led him through the forest shade and after a few turns
brought him to an' open glade on which stood a number of small houses
clustered at the foot of the gently sloping terraces of the vineyards. The
youth quickened his pace and hastened towards a low, white house visible
behind the angular trunks of an olive grove. He entered an open shed and a
middle-aged, black-bearded man of medium height rose to meet him; this was
Agenor, the master sculptor.
"So you've come at last," exclaimed the sculptor in some elation. "I
was thinking of sending for you. . . . And what's this?" Agenor noticed that
Pandion was armed. "Let me embrace you, my boy. Thessa, Thessa!" he shouted,
"come and look at our warrior!"
Pandion turned quickly round. Out of the inner door peeped a girl in a
dark red himation thrown carelessly over a chiton (Himation-woman's outer
garment consisting of a rectangular piece of material in the form of a
shawl; it was usually thrown over the shoulder but in bad weather could be
used to cover the head. The chiton is a long, sleeveless garment of thin
material, worn without the himation in the house.) of fine, but faded, pale
blue material. A smile of pleasure revealed her lovely teeth but an instant
later the smile vanished, the girl frowned and gave Pandion a cold stare.
"See, Thessa's angry with you; for two whole days you haven't been able
to find time to come here and tell us you were not going to work," said the
sculptor, reproachfully.
The youth stood silent with drooping head and his eyes shifted
stealthily from the girl to his master.
"What's wrong with you, boy? No, not boy but warrior," said Agenor.
"Why this sadness and what's that bundle you have brought with you?"
Hesitantly, incoherently, again afflicted by the sorrow of parting, he
told of his grandfather's departure.
Agenor's wife, the mother of Thessa, approached them. The sculptor laid
his hands on the youth's shoulders. "You have long since earned our love,
Pandion. I am glad you have chosen the life of an artist in preference to
that of a warrior. The fighting will come, you won't be able to avoid it,
but in the meantime you have much to achieve by hard, persevering labour and
meditation."
Pandion, following the custom, bowed low to Agenor's wife and she
covered his head with the corner of her mantle and then pressed him fondly
to her bosom.
The girl gave a little shout of joy and then, with signs of
embarrassment, disappeared into the house, followed by her father's smile.
Agenor sat down by the entrance to his workshop for a quiet rest. A
grove of ancient olive-trees grew right outside the house; their huge,
angular trunks were intertwined in the most fantastic manner that to the
contemplative eye of the artist resembled people and animals. One of the
trees was like a kneeling giant whose arms were held wide apart above his
head. The rugged irregularities of another tree-trunk formed an ugly body,
distorted by suffering. It seemed as though all the trees were bent under
the effort to raise upward the heavy weight of their countless branches
covered with tiny silvery leaves.
The figure of a woman in a bright blue holiday himation with gold
ornaments slipped out of the other side of the house. As she disappeared
behind the slope of the hill the sculptor recognized his daughter. Treading
softly with her bare feet, Agenor's wife came and sat down beside her
husband.
"Thessa has gone to Pandion in the pine grove again," said the sculptor
and then added: "The children think we don't know their little secret!"
His wife laughed gaily but turned suddenly serious as she asked: -
"What do you think of Pandion now that he's been with us a year?"
"I like him more than ever," answered Agenor and his wife nodded her
head in agreement. "But. . . ." The artist paused before choosing his next
words.
"He wants too much," his wife finished the sentence for him.
"Yes, he wants a lot and much has been granted him by the gods. There
is nobody to teach him, I cannot give him what he's seeking," said the old
artist with a note of sorrow in his voice.
"It seems to me that he's too uncertain, he can't find his own
vocation; he's not like other lads," the woman said in a low voice. "I can't
imagine what he wants and sometimes I feel sorry for him."
"You're right, my dear; no happiness will be his if he strives to
achieve that which nobody else has ever been able to. You are worried. . . .
And I know why, you're afraid for Thessa, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not afraid, my daughter is proud and brave. Still I feel that
her love for Pandion may bring her sorrow. It's a bad thing for a man to be
afflicted, like Pandion, with the passion of the seeker-not even love will
heal his eternal yearning. . . ."
"As it healed me." The sculptor smiled fondly at his wife. "I suppose I
was like Pandion, once. . . ."
"Oh, no, you were always stronger and more balanced," said his wife,
stroking Agenor's greying head.
The artist gazed into the distance beyond the pines amidst which Thessa
had disappeared.
The girl hurried on to the sea, frequently glancing back, although she
knew that so early on the morning of a holiday nobody would go to the sacred
grove.
Waves of heat were already surging from the white stones of the barren
hills. At first the path led across flat land covered with thorn bushes and
Thessa walked warily so as not to tear the skirts of her best chiton of
fine, almost transparent material brought from overseas. Farther on, the
ground rose in a low, rounded hill covered with brilliant red flowers,
blazing in the bright sunlight like a mass of dark flames. Here there were
no thorns and the girl took up the folds of her chiton, lifted it high and
ran on.
Thessa passed quickly by the isolated trees and soon found herself in
the grove. The straight trunks of the pines shone like purple wax, their
wide crowns rustled noisily in the wind and their spreading branches,
bristling with needles as long as a man's hand, were turned to golden dust
in the sun's rays.
An odour of hot resin and pine needles mingled with the breath of the
sea filled the whole grove.
The girl slackened her pace, unconsciously submitting to the solemn
calm of the grove.
To her right a grey rock sprinkled with fallen pine needles rose up
amongst the trees.
A shaft of sunlight slanted down into a small glade turning the
surrounding trees into columns of red gold. Here the rumbling roar of the
sea could be more clearly heard; although it could not be seen the sea made
its presence felt by the low, measured chords of its music.
Pandion ran out from behind the rock to meet Thessa, caught her by her
outstretched arms and pulled her towards him, then, pushing her a little way
back, gazed intently at her as though he were trying to absorb her image to
the full.
Locks of her shining black hair quivered on her smooth forehead, her
thin eyebrows, slightly arched, rose towards her temples; the shape of her
brows gave her big dark blue eyes an elusive expression of mocking pride.
With a gentle movement Thessa escaped the youth.
"Make haste, people will be coming here soon!'' she said, looking
fondly at Pandion.
"I'm ready," he said, going towards the rock in which was a narrow
vertical crevice.
On a block of limestone stood an unfinished statue of kneaded clay
about three feet high. Beside it the sculptor's wooden tools were laid
out-curved saws, knives and trowels.
The girl threw off her himation and slowly raised her hands to the
brooch which fastened the folds of the flimsy chiton on her shoulder.
Pandion watched her, smiling and selecting his tools, but when he
turned towards the statue the triumphant smile gradually vanished. That
crude figure was still far from possessing Thessa's ravishing beauty. Still
the clay had already assumed the proportions of her body. Today must decide
everything. At long last he would give the piece of dead clay the charm of
living lines.
With a frown of determination Pandion turned towards Thessa. She
glanced sideways at him and nodded her head. With downcast eyes the girl
leaned against the trunk of a pine-tree with one arm behind her head.
Immersed in his work Pandion did not speak. The youth's penetrating gaze
shifted from the body of his model to the clay and back again, changing,
measuring, comparing. This struggle between the dead clay, indifferent to
the form it was given, and the creative hands of the artist who strove to
give it the beauty of the living girl, had been going on for many days.
Time passed and the youth's attentive ear had on several occasions
caught the suppressed sighs of the tired girl.
Pandion stopped work, stepped back from the statue and Thessa gave an
involuntary shudder as she heard the bitter groan of disappointment that
escaped him. The clay figure had grown much worse. There had been life in
it, hinted at by scarcely perceptible lines, but now that these had been
made prominent the statue was dead. It had become nothing more than a crude
semblance of Thessa's swarthy body standing before the trunk of a huge
pine-tree the colour of old gold.
Biting his lips the youth compared the statue with Thessa, making a
desperate effort to find out what was wrong. Actually there was nothing that
could be called wrong, it was simply his failure to breathe life into his
work, to catch the changing forms of the living body. He had thought that
the strength of his love, his frank admiration of Thessa's beauty would
enable him to rise to great heights, to a tremendous feat of creation that
would give the world a statue such as it had never before seen. . . . He had
thought so yesterday, half an hour ago, even!... But he could not, he had
not the ability, it was beyond his powers. . . . Not even for Thessa, whom
he loved so well! What should he do? The whole world had grown dark to
Pandion, the tools fell from his hands, the blood rushed to his head. In
despair at the realization of his impotence, the youth rushed to the girl
and fell on his knees before her.
The girl, embarrassed and perplexed, placed her hands on Pandion's hot,
upturned face.
With the intuition of a woman she suddenly realized the struggle that
was going on in the soul of the artist. With maternal love she bent over the
youth, whispered consoling words to him, pressed his head to her bosom and
ran her fingers through his short curls.
The youth's burst of despair was slowly ebbing away.
Voices came from the distance. Pandion looked round; his passion had
gone and with it went his proud hopes. He felt that his youthful dreams
would never come true. The sculptor went up to his statue and stood before
it wrapped in thought. Thessa laid her tiny hand on the crook of his arm.
"Don't you dare, you foolish boy," whispered the girl.
"I can't, I dare not, Thessa," agreed Pandion, never once taking his
eyes off the statue. "If that. . ." the youth stammered, "if that had not
been modelled from you, if it were not you, I would destroy it on the spot.
The thing is so crude-and ugly that it has no right to exist and somehow
resemble you." With those words the youth pushed the block of stone together
with the statue back into the crevice in the rock and closed the narrow
entrance with stones and a few handfuls of dry pine needles.
Pandion and Thessa set off in the direction of the sea. For a long time
they walked on in silence. Then Pandion spoke, he wanted his beloved to
share his grief and disappointment. The girl tried to persuade Pandion not
to give up trying, she told him how confident she was of him and of his
ability to carry out his plans. Pandion, however, was implacable. For the
first time that day he had realized how far he was from real virtuosity,
that the road to real art lay through many years of dogged toil.
"No, Thessa, only now have I at last understood that I can't embody you
in a statue!''' he exclaimed passionately. "I'm too poor here and here," he
touched his heart and his eyes, "to be able to depict your beauty."
"Is it not all yours, Pandion?" The girl threw her arms impetuously
round the artist's neck.
"Yes, Thessa, but how I sometimes suffer on account of it! I'll never
cease to adore you, Thessa, and at the same time I can't make a statue of
you. I must embody you in clay, in stone. I must understand why it's so
difficult to depict life; if I cannot understand this myself how can I ever
hope to make my creations live?"
Thessa was all attention as she listened to the youth, feeling that now
Pandion was opening up his heart to her in full although the realization
that she was unable to help him made her sad. The artist's grief was hers,
too, and there arose in her heart a still unformed alarm.
Pandion suddenly smiled and before Thessa could realize what was
happening his strong arms lifted her off her feet. Pandion ran lightly to
the beach, sat the girl down on the sand and disappeared behind a round
hill.
A second later the girl saw Pandion's head rise above the crest of an
incoming wave. Soon the youth returned to her. Muscles that played and
flexed shook the drops of water from his skin and not a trace of his recent
sorrow was left. It seemed to Thessa that nothing serious had happened in
the grove. She laughed softly as she recalled her pitiful clay image and the
woeful countenance of its creator.
Pandion also made fun of himself and boasted boyishly of his strength
and prowess before the girl. Then slowly and with frequent halts on the way,
they returned to the house. But deep down at the bottom of Thessa's heart
the faint alarm still made itself felt.
Agenor placed his hand on Pandion's knee.
"Our people are still young and poor, my son. Hundreds of years must we
live in plenty before a few hundred people will be able to devote themselves
to the lofty calling of the artist, before hundreds of people will be able
to devote themselves to the study of the beauty of man and of the world. The
time is not long past when we depicted our gods by hewing them from a stone
or a tree trunk. But I can tell you, who are striving to penetrate the laws
of beauty, that our people will go further and will transcend all others in
depicting the beautiful. Today, however, the artists of the older and richer
lands are more skilled than ours. . . ."
The old artist got up and brought from the corner of the room a box of
yellow wood from which he took something wrapped in red cloth. He removed
the wrapper and with great care placed before Pandion a statuette of ivory,
about a cubit ( Cubit-the length of the arm from the elbow to the tip of the
middle finger-18 inches.) in height. Time had given the ivory a pink tinge
and its polished surface was covered with a network of tiny black cracks.
The carving depicted a woman holding snakes in her outstretched hands,
with the reptiles coiled round her arms as far as the elbow joints. A tight
belt with raised edges encircled her slender waist, supporting a long skirt
that reached to her heels and was ornamented by five transverse stripes of
gold. The back, shoulders, sides and upper parts of the arms were covered by
a light veil leaving the breast undraped.
The heavy tresses of waving hair were not caught up in a knot on the
nape of the neck as was the custom with the women of Hellas, but were
gathered on the crown. From this knot heavy locks fell on the neck and back
of the woman.
Pandion had never seen anything like it. He could feel that the
statuette was the work of a great master. His attention was focussed on the
strangely listless face; it was flat and broad, the cheek-bones very well
defined with the lower jaw slightly protruding.
The straight, thick brows augmented the impression of listlessness on
the woman's face, but the bosom was heaving as though with a sigh of
impatience.
Pandion was dumbfounded. If only he had the skill of the unknown
artist! If only his chisel could depict with such precision and beauty the
form that lived under the rosy-yellow surface of that old ivory!
Agenor was pleased with the impression he had produced; he watched the
youth closely, stroking his cheek with the tips of his fingers.
At last Pandion broke off his silent meditation and placed the carving
at some distance from him. He did not take his eyes off the dully gleaming
work of the old master.
"Is that from the ancient eastern cities?" the youth asked his teacher
in a low, sad voice.
( The eastern cities: Pandion is referring to the cities of Eastern
Greece (Hellas) where the Mycenaean civilization flourished from 1600-1200
B.C. This civilization was the direct descendant of the Aegean or Cretan
civilization, a pre-Hellenic culture that is still little known. Mycenae,
Tirinthus and Orchomenus were the cultural centres of the Mycenaean period.)
"Oh, no," answered Agenor. "That statuette is older than the ancient
towns of Mycenae, Tirinthus and Orchomenus with all their gold. I took it
from Chrisaor to show you. When his father was a young man he sailed to
Crete with a raiding party and found this statuette amidst the remains of an
ancient palace some twenty stadia from the ruins of Cnossus, the City of the
Sea Kings that was destroyed by terrible earthquakes."
"Father," said the youth with suppressed excitement, touching the beard
of his master as a sign of request, "you know so much. Could you not, if you
wanted to, copy the art of the old masters, teach us and take us to those
places where these wonderful creations are still stored? Is1 it possible
that you have never seen these palaces that the legends tell of? When I
listened to my grandfather's songs I often thought of them!"
Agenor lowered his eyes and a dark shadow marred his calm and pleasant
face.
"I can't explain it to you," he began after a moment's thought, "but
soon you'll feel it yourself: that which is dead and gone cannot be brought
back. It doesn't belong to our world, to our souls ... it is beautiful but
hopeless ... it charms but it -doesn't live."
"I understand, father!" the youth exclaimed passionately. "We should
only be slaves to dead wisdom, even though we imitate it to perfection. We
have to become the equals of the old masters or even better than they, and
then. . . . Oh, then. . . ." Pandion stopped, unable to find words to
express his thoughts.
Agenor's eyes gleamed as he looked at his apprentice and his hard, old
hand pressed the lad's elbow in approbation.
"You said that well, Pandion, I could not express it so well myself.
The art of the ancients must be a measure and an example for us but
certainly nothing more. We must go our own way. To make that way shorter we
must learn from the ancients and from life ... you are clever, Pandion. . .
."
Pandion suddenly dropped to the earthen floor and embraced the knees of
the artist.
"My father and teacher, let me go to see the ancient cities. . . . I
must, by all the gods, I must see it all for myself. I feel that I have the
power to achieve great things. . . . I must learn to know the countries that
gave birth to those rare things which are met with amongst our people and
which astonish them so greatly. Perhaps I. . . ." The youth stopped, he
blushed to his very ears but still his bold, direct glance sought that of
Agenor.
With knitted brows the latter stared away from him in concentration but
did not speak.
"Get up, Pandion," said the old man at last. "I've been expecting this
for a long time. You are no longer a boy and I can't detain you even though
I should like to. You're free to go wherever you will, but I tell you, as a
son and as an apprentice, more than that, I tell you as my friend and equal,
that your wish is fatal. It promises you nothing but dire catastrophe."
"Father, I fear nothing!" Pandion threw back his head, his nostrils
dilated.
"Then I was mistaken-you are still a boy," objected Agenor in calm
tones. "Listen to me with an open heart if you really love me."
Agenor began to tell Pandion his story in a loud, tense voice: "In the
eastern cities the old customs are still observed and there are many ancient
works of art there. Women dress today as they did a thousand years ago in
Crete-in long stiff skirts extremely richly ornamented, with bared breasts
and the shoulders and back covered. The men wear short, sleeveless tunics,
have long hair and are armed with short bronze swords.
"The city of Tirinthus is surrounded by a gigantic wall fifty cubits in
height. The wall is built of huge blocks of dressed stone decorated with
bronze and gold ornaments that reflect the sunlight so that from a distance
they look like fires dotting the wall.
"Mycenae is still more magnificent. The city is built on the summit of
a high hill, gateways made of huge blocks of stone are closed with bronze
grilles. The city's buildings can be seen from a great distance on the
surrounding plain.
"Although the colours of the frescoes are still bright and fresh in the
palaces of Mycenae, Tirinthus and Orchomenus, although the chariots of the
rich landowners still race along smooth roads paved with huge white stones
as they did in former times, the grass of oblivion is gaining headway on the
roads, in the courtyards of the empty houses and even on the sides of the
mighty walls."
Gone were the days of great wealth, Agenor told his pupil, the days of
long journeys to fabulous Aigyptos. ( Aigyptos-the Greek name from which the
modern word Egypt is derived. It is a Greek distortion of the Egyptian
Het-Ka-Ptah, the Palace of the Spirit of Ptah, another name for Memphis, the
City of the White Walls.) The environs of these cities were now inhabited by
strong phratries with large numbers of warriors. Their chiefs had
subordinated very large territories, had made the cities part of their
domains, had subjugated the weaker clans and declared themselves the rulers
of the lands and the peoples.
In Oeniadae, where they lived, there were no mighty chiefs, just as
there were no cities and beautiful temples. But then, in the east there were
more slaves, more men and women who had lost their liberty. Amongst them,
apart from the captives seized in foreign lands, were members of poorer
clans, the fellow-countrymen of their masters. What then would be the fate
of a stranger in these lands? If he was not backed by a powerful phratry
with whom it was dangerous for even a strong chief to quarrel or if he were
not accompanied by a strong armed escort of his own, there were only two
ways open to him -slavery or death.
"Remember, Pandion," the artist took the youth by both hands, "we live
in a troubled and dangerous time-clans and phratries are at enmity with each
other, there are no common laws and the threat of slavery hangs over the
head of all travellers. This beautiful country is no place to travel in.
Remember that if you leave us you will be without hearth or rights, anybody
can humiliate or kill you without fear of invoking a blood feud or paying
blood money. You're alone and poor, I can't help you in any way, you can't
gather even a small band of fighting men! Alone you must surely perish
unless the gods make you invisible! You see, Pandion, although it seems the
simplest thing in the world to you to sail a thousand stadia across the bay
from our Cape Achelous to Corinth whence it is but a half day's journey to
Mycenae, a day's to Tirinthus and three days to Orchomenus, in reality it
would be the same to you as a journey beyond the bounds of Oicumene!" Agenor
got up and went to the door, drawing the boy with him. "You're like a son to
me and my wife, but I'm not thinking of us. . . . Try to imagine the
sufferings of my Thessa if you were to languish in slavery in some foreign
land! ..."
Pandion flushed a deep red but did not answer.
Agenor felt that he had not convinced Pandion and that the youth was
floundering in a sea of indecision between two strong affections, one that
chained him to the house and the other that beckoned him from afar, despite
the certainty of danger.
Thessa did not know what to do for the best-first she would oppose the
journey and then, with noble pride, would tell Pandion to go.
Several months passed, and when the winds of spring blowing across the
Gulf of Corinth, brought with them the faint aroma of the flowering hills
and mountains of Peloponnesus, Pandion at last chose his life's road.
He was determined to enter into single combat with a strange and
distant world. The half year that he intended to spend in foreign parts
seemed like an eternity to him. At times Pandion was dismayed by the thought
that he was leaving his native shores for ever. . . . Agenor and other wise
men of their clan advised Pandion to go to Crete, the home of the
descendants of the Sea People, the home of an ancient civilization. Although
the huge island was much farther than the ancient cities of Boeotia and
Argolis, the journey would be safer for a single traveller.
The island lay at the junction of several sea routes and was now
inhabited by different tribes. Foreigners- merchants, sailors and
porters-were constantly to be met on its shores. The multilingual population
of Crete engaged in commerce and were more peaceful than the inhabitants of
Hellas and, in general, were kinder to strangers. In the interior of the
island, behind the mountain barriers, however, there still lived the
descendants of ancient tribes who were hostile to all strangers.
Pandion was to cross the Gulf of Calydon to a sharp promontory opposite
Lower Achaia where he would hire himself out as a rower on one of the boats
carrying wool to Crete after the period of winter storms during which the
frail boats of the Greeks avoided long journeys.
On the night of the full moon the youth of the district gathered for
dances on the big glade of the sacred grove.
In the little courtyard of Agenor's house Pandion sat in deepest
thought, oppressed by his sorrow. The inevitable must come on the morrow, he
must thrust out of his heart everything that was near and dear to him and
face an unknown destiny. He must part with his beloved and an uncertain
future and loneliness awaited him.
Thessa's clothing rustled inside the silent house, then she appeared in
the dark opening of the doorway, adjusting the folds of a mantle thrown over
her shoulders. The girl called softly to Pandion' who immediately jumped up
and went to meet her. Thessa's hair was folded into a heavy knot on the nape
of her neck and three ribbons crossed the top of her head, coming together
under the knot.
"You've done your hair like an Attic girl today," exclaimed Pandion.
"It's very pretty."
Thessa smiled and asked him somewhat sadly:
"Aren't you going to dance for the last time, Pandion?"
"Do you want to go?"
"Yes," answered Thessa firmly, "I'm going to dance for Aphrodite and
also the crane dance."
"You're going to dance the Attic crane dance, so that's why your hair
is done that way! I don't think we've ever danced the crane dance before."
"Today everything is for you, Pandion!"
"Why is it for me?" asked the astonished youth.
"Surely you haven't forgotten that in Attica they dance the crane dance
in memory," Thessa's voice quivered, "of the successful return of Theseus (
Theseus-the hero of Greek mythology who went to Crete and defeated the
monster, Minotaur, in its underground labyrinth; the most handsome girls and
youths of Attica had been sacrificed annually to the monster, and Theseus
freed his country of this bloody tribute to the ruler of Crete. )from Crete
and in honour of his victory. . . . Come on, dearest." Thessa stretched out
both hands to Pandion and, pressing close to each other, the two young
people disappeared under the trees of the sacred grove beyond the houses. .
. .
The sea met them noisily, beckoning and opening up its boundless
waters. In the rays of the early morning sun the distant surface of the sea
bulged in the convex lines of a gigantic bridge.
The slow, rolling waves, tinged pink in the dawning sun, carried
tatters of golden foam from some distant shore, perhaps even from fabled
Aigyptos itself. And the sun's rays danced, broke and rocked on the
tireless, ever-moving waters, giving a faint, flickering radiance to the
air.
The path, from which the group of houses and Agenor's family, waving
their last greetings, could still be seen, disappeared behind a hill.
The coastal plain was deserted and Pandion was alone with Thessa before
the sea and the sky. In front of them, a tiny boat loomed black on the
beach-in this Pandion was to sail round the spit at the mouth of the
Achelous and cross the Gulf of Calydon.
The youth and the girl walked on in silence. Their slow steps were
uncertain: Thessa looked straight at Pandion who could not take his eyes off
her face.
Soon, far too soon, they came to the boat. Pandion straightened his
back and with a deep sigh expanded his cramped chest. The moment that had
lain heavily on him for days and nights had come at last. There was so much
he wanted to say to Thessa in that last moment but the words would not come.
Pandion stood still in 'embarrassment, his head filled with incomplete
thoughts, inconsequent and incoherent.
With a sudden, impetuous movement, Thessa threw her arms round his neck
and whispered to him hurriedly and brokenly, as though she were afraid they
might be overheard:
"Swear to me, Pandion, swear by Hyperion, swear by the awful Hecate,
goddess of the moon and sorcery. . . . No, swear by your love and mine that
you will not go farther than Crete, that you will not go to distant Aigyptos
. . . where you'll be made a slave and be lost to me for ever. . . . Swear
that you will return soon. . . ." Thessa's whispering broke off in a
suppressed sob.
Pandion pressed the girl tightly to him and pronounced the oath; before
his eyes there passed expanses of sea, rocks, groves, houses and the ruins
of unknown cities, everything that was to keep him away from Thessa for six
long months, months in which he would know nothing of his beloved or she of
him.
Pandion closed his eyes and he could feel Thessa's heart beating.
The minutes passed, and the inevitable parting drew ever nearer and
further anticipation had become unbearable.
"On your way, Pandion, hurry ... good-bye..." whispered the girl.
Pandion shuddered, released the girl and ran to the boat.
The boat lay deep in the sand but his strong arms moved it and the keel
grated over the sand. Pandion went knee-deep into the water and then turned
to look round. The boat, rocked by a wave, struck him on the leg.
Thessa, motionless as a statue, stood with her eyes fixed on the spot
behind which Pandion's boat would soon disappear.
Something snapped in the youth's breast. He pushed the boat off the
sand-bank, jumped into it and seized the oars. Thessa turned her head
sharply and the westerly breeze caught her hair that she had loosened as a
sign of mourning.
Under mighty strokes of the oars the boat drew rapidly away from the
shore but Pandion never once took his eyes off the girl, standing with her
face lifted high above her bare shoulder.
The wind blew Thessa's shining black tresses over her face but the girl
made no move to brush them back. Through the hair Pandion could see her
shining eyes, her dilated nostrils and the bright red lips of her half-open
mouth. Her hair, fluttering in the wind, fell in heavy masses on her neck,
its curling ends lying in countless ringlets on her cheeks, temples and high
bosom. The girl stood motionless until the boat was far from the shore and
had turned its bows to the south-east.
It seemed to Thessa that the boat was not turning round the spit but
that the spit, dark and forbidding in the shadow of the sun's low rays, was
moving out into the sea, gradually drawing nearer to the boat. Now it had
reached a tiny black spot in the glistening sea - now the spot was concealed
behind it.
Thessa, conscious of nothing more, sank on to the damp sand.
Pandion's boat was lost amidst the countless waves. Cape Achelous had
long since been lost to view but Pandion continued to row with all his
strength as though he were afraid that sorrow would force him to return. He
thought of nothing at all, he only tried to tire himself out by hard work.
The sun was soon astern of the boat and the slow-moving waves took on
the colour of dark honey. Pandion dropped his oars on to the bottom of the
boat and, balancing on one leg so as not to overturn the boat, sprang into
the sea. The water refreshed him and he swam for a while pushing the boat
before him; then he climbed back and stood up at full height.
Ahead of him lay a sharp-pointed cape while away to the left he could
see the longish island that closed the harbour of Calydon-the object of his
journey-from the south. Pandion again set to work with his oars and the
island began to grow in size as it rose from the sea. Soon the line of its
summit broke up into separate pointed tree-tops which in turn became rows of
stately cypress-trees looking like gigantic, dark spearheads. The curved,
rocky- end of a promontory protected the cypresses from the wind and on its
southern side they grew in profusion, striving ever upwards into the clear
blue sky. The youth steered his boat carefully between rocks fringed with
rust-coloured seaweed. Through the greenish gold of the water the clean
sandy seabed could be clearly seen. Pandion went ashore, found a glade of
soft young grass in the vicinity of an old, moss-grown altar and there drank
up the last of the fresh water he had brought with him. He did not feel like
eating. It was no more than twenty stadia to the harbour which lay on the
far side of the island.
Pandion decided that he would approach the ship's master fresh and in
full strength and so lay down to rest awhile.
A picture of yesterday's festival dances arose with extraordinary
clarity before Pandion's closed eyes. . . .
Pandion and the other youths from the district were lying on the grass
waiting until the girls had finished their dance in honour of Aphrodite. The
girls, dressed in light garments caught in at the waist with ribbons of many
colours, were dancing in pairs, back to back. Linking their hands each of
them looked back over her shoulder as though she were admiring the beauty of
her partner.
The wide folds of the white tunics rose and fell like waves of silver
in the moonlight, the golden, sun-tanned bodies of the dancers bent like
slender reeds to the strains of the flutes-at the same time soft and
attenuated, doleful and joyful. ;
Then the youths mingled with the girls in the crane dance, rising on to
the tips of their toes and extending their arms like wings. Pandion danced
beside Thessa whose troubled eyes never left his face.
The youth of the district were more attentive to Pandion than usual.
There was only one young man, Eurymachus, who was in love with Thessa, whose
face showed that he was glad of his rival's departure; and there was the
tantalizing Aenoia who could not help teasing him. Pandion noticed that the
others did not joke with him in their usual way, there were fewer sarcastic
remarks at his expense-it seemed as though a line had been drawn between the
one who was leaving and those who were to remain.
The moon sank slowly behind the trees. A heavy curtain of darkness fell
over the glade.
The dances were over. Thessa and her friends sang the Hirasiona-the
song of the swallow and spring-a song that Pandion loved to hear. At last
the young people made their way in pairs to their houses. Pandion and Thessa
were the last, deliberately slowing down to be alone. No sooner had they
reached the ridge of the hill overlooking the village than Thessa shuddered,
stopped and pressed close to Pandion.
The sheer wall of white limestone behind the vine-yards reflected the
moon like a mirror. A transparent curtain of silver light veiled the houses,
the littoral and the dark sea, a light that was permeated with deadly charm
and silent sorrow.
"I'm terribly afraid, Pandion," whispered Thessa. "Oh, how great is the
power of Hecate, goddess of the moonlight, and you are going to the country
where she rules. . . ."
Pandion, too, caught Thessa's excitement.
"No, no, Thessa, Hecate rules in Caria, but I am not going there, my
way lies towards Crete," exclaimed the youth, urging the girl towards their
house. . . .
Pandion awoke from his dream. It was time to eat and continue his
journey. He made sacrifice to the God of the Sea, walked down to the beach,
measured his shadow to judge the time, found that it measured nineteen feet
and realized that he would have to hurry to reach the ship before evening.
Rounding the island Pandion saw a white post standing in the :sea-the
sign of a harbour-and redoubled his efforts at the oars.
I he wind raised clouds of coarse sand as it howled mournfully through
the dry bushes. Like a road built by some giants unknown, the ridge ran away
eastwards, curving round a broad, green valley. On the seaward side the
mountains descended to the water's edge in a gentle, flower-covered slope,
which from a distance gave it the appearance of a huge piece of gold rising
out of the shimmering blue of the sea.
Pandion increased his pace. Today he was more homesick than ever for
Oeniadae. He remembered that he had been advised not to penetrate into that
distant, mountain-encircled part of Crete where the descendants of the Sea
People were unkind to strangers.
Pandion had need to hurry. He had already spent five months in various
parts of the island that stretched in a chain of mountains rising out of the
sea. The young sculptor had seen many strange and marvellous things that the
ancients had left in the empty temples and almost unpopulated cities.
He had spent many days in the gigantic Palace of Cnossus, the older
parts of which went back to times beyond the memory of man. As he wandered
up and down the countless staircases of the palace the youth saw, for the
first time in his life, columns of red stone narrowing at the base and he
marvelled at the cornices brightly painted with black and white rectangles
or decorated with black and light blue whorls resembling a series of moving
waves.
Brightly-coloured pictures covered the walls. Pandion gazed in
breathless amazement at the pictures of the sacred games with the bulls, the
processions of women bearing vessels in their arms, girls dancing within an
enclosure outside which stood a crowd of men, unknown, sinuous" animals
amongst the mountains and strange plants. Pandion thought the outlines of
the figures unnatural and the plants rose up on exceedingly long and almost
leafless stems. At the same time he realized that the artists of ancient
days had deliberately distorted natural proportions in an effort to express
some idea, but the idea was incomprehensible to the youth who had grown up
at liberty in the lap of nature, beautiful even when stern.
In Cnossus, Tylissos and Aelira, and in the mysterious ruins of the
ancient harbour of the "slate city" whose name had long been forgotten, all
the houses were built of slabs of smooth, grey, stratified stone instead of
the usual blocks. Pandion saw many female statuettes of ivory, bronze and
faience, marvellous vessels and dishes and cups made of an amalgam of gold
and silver and covered with the most delicate drawings.
These works of art astounded the young Hellene but they were as little
understood by him as the mysterious inscriptions in the forgotten symbols of
a dead language that he met amongst the ruins. The magnificent craftsmanship
to be seen in the tiniest detail of any of these things did not satisfy
Pandion; he wanted something more-he did not want to limit himself to
abstract depiction; he strove for an incarnation of the living beauty of the
human body he worshipped.
Quite unexpectedly Pandion discovered realistic images of people and
animals in the works of art brought from distant Aigyptos.
The people of Cnossus, Tylissos and Aelira, who showed Pandion these
things, told him that many more of them were still to be found in the
vicinity of Phaestos, where the descendants of the Sea People still lived.
Despite warnings of the danger involved, Pandion decided to penetrate the
ring of mountains on the southern coast of Crete.
In a few more days he would have seen everything there was to see and
would sail back home to Thessa. Pandion was now certain of his own ability.
Much as he would have liked to learn from the craftsmen of Aigyptos his love
for his own country and for Thessa was stronger, and the oath he had sworn
to the girl held him tightly bound.
How wonderful it would be to sail home with the last ship in autumn, to
look into the bright, blue eyes of his beloved, to see the reticent joy of
Agenor, the teacher who had replaced his father and grandfather.
Pandion screwed up his eyes and gazed out at the boundless expanse of
the sea. No, it was not for him; there, ahead of him, lay distant strange
lands, Aigyptos, but his own native land was behind him, beyond the mountain
ridge. And he was still moving onwards, away from his own country. He had to
see the ancient temples of Phaestos of which he had heard so much in the
coastal towns. With a sigh he increased his pace until he was almost
running. A spur led down from the mountain in broad terraces covered with
boulders like tufts of grass, with dark patches of bush between them.
Amongst the trees at the foot of the slope he could see the indistinct
outlines of the ruins of a huge building, walls half collapsed, the remains
of arches and gates still standing in their framework of black and white
columns. Silence reigned in the ruins and the curves of the broken walls
stretched out towards Pandion like giant hands ready to seize their victim.
The surfaces of the walls were furrowed with fresh cracks, the aftermath of
a recent earthquake.
The young sculptor trod quietly amongst the ruins, trying not to
disturb the silence there, peering into dark corners beneath columns that
still stood in their places. Pandion turned a projecting corner and found
himself in a rectangular, roofless hall the walls of which were covered with
the well-known brightly-coloured frescoes. As ha looked at the black and
brown figures that followed each other in quick succession, figures of men
carrying shields, swords and bows amongst strange animals and ships, Pandion
remembered the tales of his grandfather and realized that before him was a
picture of a band of soldiers on a raid into the land of the blacks,
situated, according to ancient legend, on the very borders of Oicumene.
Pandion was astounded at this evidence of the tremendous journeys made
by the ancients and gazed long at the frescoes until, turning away from them
at last, he saw a marble cube standing in the middle of the hall. The cube
was ornamented with blue rosettes and whorls of glass and at its base lay
heaps of freshly picked flowers.
Somebody had been there! There must be people living amongst those
ruins! With bated breath 'the youth made his way to the exit, a portico
overgrown with grass.
The portico, consisting of two square white and two round red columns,
stood on the edge of a low cliff that rose just above the dense foliage of
the trees. A dusty, well-trodden path led down the cliffside. Descending
into the valley, Pandion came to a smooth, metalled road. He made his way
eastwards, striving to step silently on the hot stones. The wide leaves of
the plane-trees on the right-hand side of the road, scarcely stirring in the
hot air, cast a line of shadow. Pandion sighed with relief as he sought
refuge from the blazing sun. He had long wanted to drink but in his own
country, where water was scarce, he had been taught abstinence. After
walking along for some two stadia he saw a long low building at the foot of
a hill where the road turned to the north. A number of small rooms, like a
row of similar boxes, were open on the side that faced the road and were
quite empty. Pandion recognized the building as an old travellers'
rest-house; he had seen many of them in the northern part of the island and
hurried into the main entrance, brightly painted and divided into two by a
single column. The faint murmur of running water called to the youth,
exhausted as he was by the heat and the long journey. Pandion entered the
bathhouse where the water ran from a spring, the ground around which was
paved with heavy slabs of stone, poured through a wide pipe and then through
the rims of three successive basins into a big funnel built into the wall.
Pandion threw off his clothes and sandals, washed himself in the pure
cold water, drank his fill and lay down on a stone bench to rest. The,
babbling of the running water, the gentle whispering of the leaves had a
soothing effect on him and eyes inflamed from the sun and wind in the
mountain passes refused to keep open-Pandion slept.
He did -not sleep long; when he awoke the shadow from the column,
intersecting the sunlit floor, had scarcely changed its position. He jumped
up and hurriedly donned his simple clothing. He felt fresh and rested. He
ate some dried cheese, took another drink and made for the doorway; there he
came to a sudden halt-from the distance came the sound of voices. He went
out on to the road to look round. There could be no doubt about it, from the
dense growth of bushes to one side of the road came laughter, snatches of an
unknown language and the sounds of stringed instruments.
Pandion's sensations were mingled joy and fear, his muscles tensed and
he involuntarily grasped the hilt of his father's sword. With a few
whispered words of prayer to his patron and ancestor Hyperion, the youth
plunged into the thicket, making straight for the voices. It was stifling in
the thicket and the strong scents made it difficult for him to breathe.
With the greatest care he made his way round tall bushes with long
thorns, slipped between the trunks of the strawberry-trees with their thin,
smooth, light grey bark and found his way barred by a grove of myrtles that
stood before him in a solid wall.
Bunches of white flowers hung 'down from the dense foliage. For a
second Pandion thought of Thessa-in his country the myrtle-tree was sacred
to youthful virginity. The voices now sounded quite close to him-the people
were talking in hushed voices for some reason or another and Pandion
realized that he had misjudged the distance. The decisive moment had come.
Bending low, Pandion dived under the nether branches, carefully pushing them
aside with his hands; on a glade covered with young grass an unusual sight
met his eyes.
In the centre of the glade lay a snow-white bull with long horns.
Little black patches were sprinkled on the beast's well-groomed flanks and
face.
Some distance away in the shade stood a group of youths, girls and
elderly people. A tall, straight-backed man with a wavy beard and a gold
band on his head, wearing a short tunic encircled by a bronze belt, stepped
forward and made a sign. A young girl dressed in a long, heavy mantle
immediately left the group. She raised both arms above her head; the
movement caused the mantle to fall to the ground, leaving her standing in a
loincloth held in place by a wide white belt ornamented with a fluffy black
cord. Her blue-black hair hung loose about her shoulders and on both arms
she wore narrow gold bangles above the elbow.
With light, rapid steps, almost dancing, she approached the bull, then
stopped suddenly and emitted a guttural cry. The bull's sleepy eyes opened
wide and flashed fire, he bent his forelegs under him and began to raise his
heavy head. Like an arrow the girl darted forward and pressed herself
against the bull. For a second or two the girl and the bull were motionless.
A cold shiver ran down Pandion's back.
The bull straightened his forelegs while his hind-legs still lay on the
ground, and lifted his head high. The beast formed a sort of heavy pyramid
of menacing muscle. The girl's swarthy body, pressed close to the steep
slope of the animal's back, formed a sharp contrast to its white skin. With
one hand she clung to a horn and the other arm encircled the bull's
tremendous neck. One of the girl's strong legs was stretched along the back
of the monster and the upper part of her body was sprung forward like a
drawn bow.
The contrast between the lines of the bull, beautiful but monstrous in
their strength and weight, and the graceful human body held Pandion
spellbound.
For the fraction of a second he saw the austere face of the girl with
its tightly pressed lips. With a dull roar the bull rose to its feet and
leaped with a facility astonishing in such a tremendous body. The girl was
thrown into the air, pressed her hands into the bull's mighty withers, threw
her legs up and turned a somersault between the high horns. She landed on
her feet some three paces from the bull's head. Stretching out her arms the
gir-1 clapped her hands and again emitted a short, sharp cry. The infuriated
bull lowered its horns and rushed at her. Pandion was horrified: it seemed
that that beautiful and courageous girl must certainly be killed. Throwing
all caution to the winds the youth seized his sword and was about to dash on
to the glade when the girl, with amazing agility, again sprang towards the
bull, escaped the lowered, death-dealing horns, and was once more on the
bull's back. In its fury the beast raced round the glade tearing up the
earth with its hoofs and roaring threateningly. The young bullfighter sat
calmly on the enraged animal's back, her knees pressed tightly into its wide
flanks, now working like bellows from the animal's rapid breathing. The bull
flew towards the group of people who greeted it with cries of joy. There was
a loud handclap as the girl somersaulted backwards and landed on the ground
behind the bull. Breathing rapidly in joyous excitement she rejoined the
crowd of onlookers.
The bull made a straight run to the edge of the glade, then turned and
raced towards the people. Five of them immediately stepped forward, three
youths and two girls, and the game began again with even greater speed. The
gasping bull turned towards the young people who were calling him on with
cries and handclapping and they jumped over him, sprang on to his back,
pressed close against his sides for a moment, avoiding the terrible horns
with great agility. One of the girls managed to sit directly on the bull's
neck, immediately in front of the hump of his withers. The bull's eyes
popped out of their sockets and foam came from his mouth. With his head
lowered, his muzzle almost touching the ground, the bull did his utmost to
throw the fearless girl from his back. She leaned backwards, her two hands
grasping the withers behind her back and her feet propped firmly against the
base of the animal's ears. She kept her position for a few seconds and then
sprang lightly to the ground.
The youths and girls spread out in a single line some distance from
each other and played leap-frog over the animal's back in succession. The
game went on for a long time-the bull dashed back and forth with
awe-inspiring roars, threatening death, but the gracefully lithesome human
figures darted unharmed around him.
The bull's roar turned to a hoarse groan, his skin became dark with
sweat and foam flew from his mouth together with his irregular breath. A few
moments more and the bull came to a standstill, lowered his huge head and
glared from side to side. The air was filled with the joyous cries of the
onlookers. The man with the gold band on his head gave a sign and the
youthful participants in the games left the animal in peace. People who had
been standing and sitting on the grass drew together, and before Pandion
realized what was happening they had disappeared into the bushes.
The bull remained alone on the deserted glade with nothing to show for
the recent combat but its stertorous breathing and the trampled grass.
Only then did the excited Pandion realize his great good fortune. He
had been a witness of the ancient bull games that, hundreds of years before
his time, had been so common on Crete, in Mycenae and other ancient Greek
cities.
Agile, enterprising man had conquered in a bloodless battle with a
bull, an animal sacred to the peoples of antiquity as the incarnation of
martial power, of overpowering, menacing strength. The lightning speed of
the animal was counteracted by still greater speed, while precision of
movement was the only guarantee of safety for the players. Pandion had been
trained in feats of strength and agility since childhood and, therefore,
could well imagine what degree of training was required to develop the human
body for participation in such dangerous amusements.
He did not risk following the players and returned to the road. He
decided that it would be better to seek hospitality from these people in
their own homes.
For a distance of several stadia the road continued dead straight and
then turned suddenly southwards, to the sea, and the trees along the verge
gave way to dusty bushes. By the time Pandion reached the bend in the road
his shadow had noticeably lengthened. He heard rustling noises in the bushes
and stopped to listen. A bird, he could not say what kind, as the sun was in
his eyes, flew up and again dived into the bushes. Pandion's fears were
allayed and he continued on his way, paying no further attention to the
sounds. From a distance came the soft, melodious cooing of a wild dove. The
call was answered by another two birds and then all was silent again. At the
moment Pandion turned the bend in the road the cries of the dove were
repeated very near him. The youth stood still, trying to get a glimpse of
the bird. Suddenly he heard the beating of wings behind him and a pair of
wood-pigeons sailed into the air. Pandion turned round and saw three men
with heavy cudgels in their hands.
With deafening cries the three newcomers threw themselves on Pandion.
In a second he had unsheathed his sword but received a blow on the head.
Everything went dark, and he staggered from the weight of other men jumping
on 'him-another four men had appeared from the bushes behind him. Pandion
was almost unconscious, but realized that he was lost. He defended himself
desperately, but a blow on his arm caused him to drop his sword. The youth
fell on his knees and threw the man who clung to him over his head; a second
man fell from a blow of his fist while a third flew away with a groan from a
kick of Pandion's foot.
The attackers, apparently, had no intention of killing the stranger.
They dropped their cudgels and again fell on Pandion. Under the weight of
five bodies he fell face down in the dust that filled his mouth and nose and
irritated his eyes. Panting from the strain Pandion rose on to all fours in
an effort to throw off the attackers. They threw themselves under his feet
and pressed his neck downwards. Again the bodies writhed in a heap on the
ground raising clouds of dust that turned red in the sun's rays. The
attackers realized the unusual strength and endurance of the youth and
ceased their shouts-the silence of the deserted road was broken only by the
sounds of the struggle, the groans and hoarse breathing of the combatants.
Their bodies were covered with dust, their clothing dirty and torn to
shreds, but still the struggle went on.
Several times Pandion threw off his assailants and struggled to his
feet, but again they fell on him, grasping him by the legs. Suddenly cries
of victory rent the air: reinforcements had arrived and another four men
joined the struggle. The youth's arms and legs were bound with strong
thongs. More dead than alive from exhaustion and despair, Pandion closed his
eyes. His conquerors, speaking in lively tones in an unknown language, lay
down in the shade beside him to rest after the strenuous struggle.
When they were rested they made signs to the youth to go with them.
Pandion realized the uselessness of further resistance; he decided to
reserve his strength for a more, opportune moment and nodded. They unbound
his legs and Pandion, surrounded by his enemies, staggered along the road.
Soon they came to a group of wretched houses built of undressed stone. The
people came out of the houses to meet them-an old man with a bronze band on
his head, some women and children. The old man went up to Pandion, looked
him over approvingly, felt his muscles and said something to Pandion's
captors in merry tones. The youth was taken to a small house.
The door opened with a piercing shriek-inside there was a small
furnace, an anvil with tools thrown down around it and a heap of charcoal.
Two large, light wheels hung from the walls. An evil-looking old man of
small stature, but with long arms, ordered one of Pandion's escort to blow
up the furnace while he took a metal hoop from a nail in the wall and went
over to the captive. The smith struck Pandion roughly under the chin and
began measuring the hoop for his neck; he muttered something in
dissatisfaction and then went to the far corner of the smithy and with a
loud rattle dragged out a metal chain; he put the end link of the chain in
the fire -and set about bending the bronze hoop on the anvil, adjusting it
to the required size by frequent blows of his hammer.
Only then did the youth realize the full extent of the disaster that
had overtaken him. Images of all that was dear to him flashed through his
mind one after another. Thessa was waiting there on his native shore, she
believed in him, in his love and in his return. In a moment they would
fasten the bronze slave's collar on his neck and he would be riveted to a
strong chain without any hope of early deliverance. He had counted the last
days of his stay in Crete. . . . Soon he would be able to set sail for the
harbour of Calydon whence his fatal journey had begun.
"O Hyperion, my ancestor, and thou, O Aphrodite, send me death or
deliverance," whispered the youth in a low voice.
The smith calmly and methodically continued his work; he measured the
hoop a second time, flattened out the ends, bent them over and made holes in
them. He had only to rivet the chain to the collar. The old man grunted a
brief order and Pandion was seized and told by signs to lie on the ground
beside the anvil. The youth mustered all his strength for the last attempt
at escape. Blood spattered from under the thongs that bound his elbows but
Pandion forgot all pain when he felt his bonds weakening. In another second
they had burst.. With his head he butted the chin of the man who was trying
to make him lie down and the man fell to the ground. The youth knocked down
two more of them and dashed off along the road. With howls of fury his
enemies gave chase. The cries of the pursuers brought more men armed with
spears, knives and swords; the number of the pursuers continued to grow.
Pandion turned off the road and, leaping over the bushes, made for the
sea, his angrily screaming pursuers hot on his heels.
The bushes grew scantier and the ground rose in a short slope. Reaching
the top Pandion halted-far below, under a wall of steep cliffs, lay the sea,
sparkling in the sunlight. A red ship, sailing along slowly some ten stadia
from the shore, could be clearly seen.
The youth ran along the edge of the cliff, trying to find a path
leading downwards, but the vertical wall of the cliffs extended far in both
directions. There was no way of escape, his pursuers were already clear of
the bushes, extending as they ran into a long crescent in order to cut off
Pandion on three sides. He looked towards his pursuers and then down at the
cliff. "Death is before me and slavery behind," was the thought that ran
through his head. "Forgive me, Thessa, if you ever find out. . . ." No
further time was to be lost.
The rock on which Pandion was standing extended beyond the cliff face.
Some twenty cubits below him there was another ledge on which a low
pine-tree was growing.
Sweeping his beloved sea with a glance of farewell, the youth sprang
into the thick branches of the lone tree. For a second the infuriated cries
of his enemies reached his ears. Pandion crashed through the tree, breaking
its branches and lacerating his body, flew past the rocky ledge on to the
soft resilient ground of the lower slope. The youth rolled some twenty
cubits farther down the slope and came to rest on a ledge damp from the
spray that reached it at high tide. Stunned and still unaware that he had
escaped, the youth rose to his knees. The pursuers above him were trying to
hit him with stones and javelins. The sea splashed at his feet.
The ship drew nearer as though the mariners were interested in what was
happening on shore.
There were noises in Pandion's head, his whole body ached dreadfully,
bringing tears to his eyes. Dimly he realized that when his pursuers brought
bows and arrows, he would most certainly be killed. The sea drew him on, the
approaching ship seemed like salvation sent by the gods. Pandion forgot that
it might be a foreign ship or might belong to his enemies-he felt that his
native sea could not deceive him. He stood up on his feet, assured himself
that his arms were intact, jumped into the sea and swam for the ship. The
waves swept over his head, his battered body did not want to submit to his
will, his wounds burned painfully and his throat was parched. The vessel
drew nearer to Pandion and those on board gave him cries of encouragement.
He could hear the creaking of the oars, the hull of the ship rose over his
head and strong hands seized him and pulled him on to the deck. Unconscious
and seemingly lifeless, the youth lay stretched out on the warm planks of
the deck. They brought him round and gave him water-he drank long and
avidly. Pandion felt himself being carried to one side and covered over with
something; then he sank into a deep sleep.
The mountains of Crete could be faintly distinguished on the horizon.
Pandion stirred, gave an involuntary groan and opened his eyes. He was on
board a ship that was nothing like those of his own country, with their low
gunwales protected at the sides by wattles of plaited withies and with the
oars above the hold. This vessel had high sides, the rowers sat below the
deck on either side of a gangway that widened in the depths of the hold. The
single sail on the mast in the centre of the ship was higher and narrower
than those on the ships of Hellas.
Piles of hides lying on the deck gave off a foul odour. Pandion was
lying on the narrow triangular deck in the prow of the vessel. He was
approached by a bearded, aquiline-nosed man in thick woollen clothing, who
offered him a bowl of warm water mixed with wine and spoke to him in an
unknown language with sharp, metallic intonations. Pandion shook his head.
The man touched him on the shoulder and with an imperative gesture pointed
to the sternsheets of the vessel. Pandion gathered his bloodstained rags
around his loins and made his way along the gunwale towards the awning in
the stern.
Here sat a thin man, aquiline-nosed, like the one who had brought
Pandion. His lips, framed in a stiff beard that stuck out in front of him,
parted in a smile. His wind-dried, rapacious face, like a bronze casting,
had a cruel look about it.
Pandion gathered that he was on board a Phoenician merchant ship and
that the man before him was either the captain or the owner.
He did not understand the first two questions the man asked him. Then
the merchant spoke in a broken Ionian dialect that Pandion could understand
although there were Carian and Etruscan words mixed in his speech. He asked
Pandion about his adventures, learned who he was and where he had come from
and, thrusting his eagle-nosed face with its unblinking eyes close to
Pandion, said to him;
"I saw your escape-that was a deed of valour worthy of one of the
heroes of old. I'm in need of such strong and fearless warriors-in these
waters and on the coasts there are many pirates who plunder our merchants.
If you serve me faithfully you'll have an easy life and I shall reward you."
Pandion shook his head in refusal saying that he must return to his own
country as soon as possible and imploring the merchant to put him ashore on
the nearest island.
The merchant's eyes flashed evilly.
"My ship is sailing straight to Tyre there is nothing but sea on that
route. I'm king aboard my ship and you're in my power. I could order you to
be killed immediately if I wanted to. Take your choice-either there," the
Phoenician pointed below the deck where the oars moved rhythmically to the
plaintive singing of the rowers, "where you'll be a slave chained to the
oars, or join them," the merchant's finger swept round and pointed below the
awning: there sat five husky, half-naked men with stupid and brutal faces.
"Don't keep me waiting too long."
Pandion looked helplessly round him. The vessel was fast drawing away
from Crete. The distance between him and his own country was rapidly
increasing. There was no help to be expected from anywhere.
Pandion decided that he would have more chance of escape as a soldier.
The Phoenician, however, who was well acquainted with the habits of the
Hellenes, made him swear three awful oaths of loyalty.
The merchant then treated his wounds with soothing ointments and led
him to the group of fighting men, telling them to feed him.
"Keep an eye on him," he warned them. "Remember that all of you are
responsible to me for the actions of each single one."
The senior soldier laughed approvingly, patted Pandion on the shoulder,
felt his muscles and said something to the others. The soldiers roared with
laughter. Pandion looked at them in perplexity, for now his deep sorrow made
him not as other men.
In the four days that he had spent on board ship Pandion had to some
extent accustomed himself to his new position. The wounds and bruises proved
but slight and they soon healed. Another two days sailing would bring them
to Tyre.
The master of the vessel recognized the intellect and varied knowledge
possessed by Pandion, and was very satisfied with him; he had several long
talks with Pandion who learned from him that they were following the ancient
sea route established by the people of Crete in their journeys to the
southern lands of the black people. The route lay along the shores of mighty
and hostile Aigyptos and farther along the gigantic deserts as far as the
Gates of the Mists. (The Gates of the Mists-the Strait of Gibraltar. The Sea
of Mists-the Atlantic Ocean..)
At the Gates of the Mists, where the rocks of north and south drew
close together forming a narrow strait, the world ended-beyond them lay the
great Sea of Mists.** Here the ships turned south and soon reached the hot
shores of the land of the black people, rich in ivory, gold, oils and skins,
Pandion knew that the ancient inhabitants of Crete had used this route, for
he had seen pictures of such a journey on the day that had proved fatal to
him. The Sea People's ships reached lands farther to the south than any
visited by emissaries from Aigyptos.
In Pandion's time, however, Phoenician ships sailed along the northern
and southern shores in search of cheap merchandise and strong slaves, but
they rarely passed beyond the Gates of the Mists.
The Phoenician sensed unusual talents in Pandion and wanted to keep him
in his service. He tempted the youth with the pleasures of distant journeys,
drew for him pictures of his future advancement and prophesied that after
ten or fifteen years good service he could himself become a merchant or
master of a ship.
Pandion listened with interest to the Phoenician's stories but he knew
full well that the life of a merchant was not for him, that he would never
exchange his native land, Thessa and the free life of the artist for wealth
in a foreign country.
As the days passed his longing to see Thessa, even if only for a
moment, became more and more unbearable as did his desire to hear the mighty
noises of the sacred pine grove in which he had spent so many happy hours.
Lying beside his snoring companions, Pandion could get no sleep and with
difficulty stilled his fast-beating heart and stifled groans of despair.
The ship's master ordered him to learn the work of helmsman. The time
hung heavily, when Pandion stood at the stern oar, calculating the direction
of the ship by the movement of the sun or, following the instructions of an
experienced helmsman, his way by the stars at night.
So it was on that night. Pandion stood with his hip pressed against the
gunwale, his hands firmly grasping the stern oar to overcome the resistance
of the rising wind. On the other side of the vessel, which, as was the
custom in those days, had a stern oar or rudder on either side, stood a
helmsman and a soldier. The stars flitted through gaps in the clouds and
then disappeared in the gloom of the threatening sky, and the mournful voice
of the wind, growing deeper in tone, rose to an ominous howl.
The vessel was tossed on the waves, the oars slapped dully on the water
and the voice of the overseer could be more frequently heard as he drove on
the slaves with curses and blows of his whip.
The master, who had been sleeping under the awning, came out on deck.
He studied the sea attentively and, obviously troubled, went to the chief
helmsman. They talked together for a long time. Then the master awakened the
sleeping soldiers and sent them to the stern oars, himself taking his place
beside Pandion.
The wind veered sharply round and started beating furiously at the
ship, the waves rose higher and higher, sweeping over the deck. The mast had
to be unstepped, and as it lay on the piles of hides it projected beyond the
bow, striking dully against the ship's high prow.
The struggle against wind and waves was becoming more and more
desperate. The master, muttering either prayers or curses under his breath,
ordered the helmsmen to turn the vessel to the south. With the wind behind
her the vessel raced forward into the black, unknown sea. The night passed
quickly in heavy work at the rudder. In the grey light of dawn the gigantic
waves looked even more threatening. The storm had not subsided, the wind,
unabated, lashed the frail ship.
Shouts of alarm swept across the deck-all hands called the master's
attention to something to the starboard of the vessel. There, in the dull
light of the dawning day, the sea was broken by a long line of foam. The
waves slowed down in their mad race as they approached the blue-grey line.
The entire crew of the vessel clustered round the master, even the
helmsman handing over his oar to a soldier. Shouts of alarm gave way to
rapid, excited speech. Pandion noticed that all eyes were fixed on him,
fingers pointed in his direction and fists threatened him. He could
understand nothing of what was going on but saw the master making angry
gestures of protest. The old helmsman, seizing the master by the arm, spoke
to him for a long time, his lips near the master's ear. The master shook his
head in refusal, and shouted some abrupt words but, at last, he apparently
had to give way. In an instant the people threw themselves on the astounded
youth, binding his hands behind him.
"They say you have brought misfortune upon us," said the master to
Pandion, waving his hands disdainfully in the direction of his crew. "You're
the herald of calamity, it's your presence on board that has drawn our ship
towards Tha-Quem, (Tha-Quem-the Black Land, or simply Quemt, the Black, the
name given by the ancient Egyptians to their country.) in your language
Aigyptos. To placate the gods you must be killed and thrown overboard-this
all my people demand and I cannot protect you."
Pandion still did not understand and stared hard at the Phoenician.
"You do not know that it means death or slavery to land on the shores
of Tha-Quem," the master muttered despondently. "In days of old there was a
war between Tha-Quem and the Sea People. Since then everybody who lands
anywhere in that country, except the three ports open to foreigners, is
either killed or sent to slavery and his property goes to the King of
Tha-Quem. Do you understand now?" The Phoenician broke off abruptly and,
turning away from Pandion, gazed at the fast approaching line of foam.
Pandion realized that he was again threatened with death. Ready to
fight to the very last minute for a life that was dear to him he cast a
helpless glance full of hatred at the infuriated crowd on the deck.
The hopelessness of the situation caused him to take a rapid decision.
"Master!" exclaimed the youth. "Tell your people to release me-I will
jump into the sea myself!"
"That's what I thought," said the Phoenician, turning towards him. "Let
these cowards learn from you!"
In answer to an imperative gesture from the master the crew released
Pandion. Without looking at anybody the youth walked towards the ship's
gunwale. The people made way for him in silence as they would for a man
going to his death.
Pandion stared fixedly at the line of foam that hid the low shore,
instinctively comparing his strength with the speed of the vicious waves.
Fragments of thoughts flashed through his mind: the land beyond the foam
line, the Land of Foam ... Africa...
( Africa-from the Greek aphros- foam. Hence also Aphrodite- the
foam-born.)
So this was the dreaded Aigyptos!... And he had vowed to Thessa by all
the gods and by his love for her that he would not even think of journeying
so far!... O Gods! What game was fate playing with him? ... But he would
most likely perish and that would be for the best. . . .
Pandion dived head first into the noisy depths and, using his strong
arms, swam away from the ship. The waves seized hold of him; it seemed that
they took delight in the death of a man, they threw him high on their crests
and then cast him down into the troughs, they crushed and battered him, they
filled his nose and mouth with water, they slashed his eyes with foaming
spray. Pandion no longer thought of anything-he was struggling desperately
for his life, for every breath of air, working furiously with his hands and
feet. The Hellene, born by the sea, was an excellent swimmer.
Time passed and the waves carried him on and on towards the shore. He
did not look back at the ship, he had forgotten its existence in face of
almost certain death. The rocking of the waves grew less. They swept on more
slowly than before in long rollers that rose and fell in a roaring swirl of
seething foam. Every fresh wave carried Pandion a hundred cubits nearer the
shore. Sometimes he sank into the trough of a wave; then a terrific weight
of water crashed down on him, driving him down and down into the dark depths
until his heart was ready to burst.
Thus he swam on for several stadia, much time passed in this struggle
against the waves, until at last his strength failed him and he felt that it
was becoming impossible for him to continue the struggle against the giant
waters that were trying to embrace him. As he grew weaker the will to live
died out in him, it became more and more difficult to strain his aching
muscles and his desire to continue the struggle weakened. With jerky
movements of arms that worked almost outside his will he rose on the crest
of a wave, turned his face towards his distant country and shouted at the
top of his voice:
"Thessa, Thessa! ..."
The name of the one he loved, hurled twice in the face of fate, in the
face of the monstrous and indifferent might of the sea, was immediately
drowned by the howl of the stormy waves; one of them closed over Pandion's
motionless body, the youth sank down into the water and suddenly struck the
seabed in a whirl of churned-up sand.
Two soldiers in short green kilts, an outpost of the Great Green Sea
(Great Green Sea was the name given by the Egyptians to the
Mediterranean.)coast watchers, leaned on their long spears and stared at the
horizon.
"Captain Seneb sent us here for nothing," said the elder of them in a
lazy voice.
"But the Phoenician ship was quite close to the shore," objected the
other. "If the storm hadn't died down we'd have got easy booty, and right
close to the fortress, too."
"Look over there," said the elder soldier, pointing along the beach.
"May I remain unburied when I die if that isn't a man from the ship!"
For a long time the two soldiers gazed at the black speck on the beach.
"Let's go back," said the younger soldier. "We've been trudging through
the sand long enough already. Who wants the body of a despised foreigner
instead of rich booty-the merchandise and slaves that were on that ship. . .
."
"You talk without thinking," the elder man interrupted him again.
"Those merchants are sometimes richly dressed and wear jewellery. A gold
ring wouldn't do you any harm-why should we report every drowned man to
Seneb?..."
The soldiers marched along the damp sand of a beach beaten hard by the
storm.
"Where's your jewellery?" the young soldier asked mockingly. "He's
stark naked."
The elder man uttered a disgruntled curse.
And, indeed, the man lying face down on the sand was completely
unclothed, his arms bent helplessly under his torso and his short curly hair
full of sea-sand.
"Look," exclaimed the elder soldier. "He isn't a Phoenician. "What a
strong and beautiful body! It's a pity he's dead, he would have made a fine
slave and Seneb would have rewarded us."
"What country is he from?" asked the younger.
"I don't know, perhaps he's a Turusha, or a Kefti, or maybe one of
those Sea Peoples, the Hanebu. (Turusha-Etruscan. Kefti or Keftiu-the
Egyptian name for Crete and its inhabitants. Hanebu-northerner.) They are
rarely to be found in our blessed land and are valued for their endurance,
strength and intellect. Three years ago. . . . Wait a minute, he's alive,
praise be to Amon!"
The body lying on the sand twitched almost imperceptibly.
The soldiers threw down their spears, turned the unconscious man over
and began massaging his stomach and legs.
Their efforts were successful, the unconscious man-it was
Pandion-opened his eyes and coughed painfully. His sound constitution had
stood up to the test and before an hour had passed the soldiers led him,
supporting him under the arms, to the fortress.
They made frequent halts on their way, but before the hottest part of
the day Pandion was brought to a tiny fort standing on one of the countless
sleeves of the Nile Delta, to the west of a big lake.
The soldiers gave Pandion water to drink, fed him a few pieces of bread
dipped in beer, and laid him down on the floor of a small earthen shed.
The terrific strain had left its mark on Pandion-a sharp pain racked
his chest and his heart's action was weak. An endless procession of waves
passed before his closed eyes. As he lay in a heavy torpor he heard someone
open the frail door, made from fragments of ship's timbers. The captain of
the outpost, a young man with a sickly and unpleasant face, bent over him.
The captain removed the mantle that had been thrown over Pandion's legs and
made a close examination of his captive. Little did Pandion imagine that the
decision that was then ripening in the captain's mind was to bring him
further tribulation.
The captain, satisfied with what he had seen, covered Pandion over and
left the shed.
"Two rings of copper and a jug of beer each," ha snapped at the
soldiers.
The coast watchers bowed humbly before him but at his back they sent
looks that might kill.
"O Mighty Sekhmet, look what price we're given for such a slave..."
whispered the younger soldier as soon as the captain had withdrawn. "You'll
see, he'll send him to the city and sell him for no less than ten rings of
gold. . . ."'
The captain suddenly turned back. "Hi, Senni!" he shouted. The elder
soldier ran obediently to him. "Keep an eye on him. I make you responsible
for him. Tell my cook to give him the best of food, but take great care, for
this captive is a mighty warrior. Tomorrow make ready the light boat and
I'll send the captive as a gift to the Great House. (The Great House-a
euphemism for the King of Egypt whose name it was forbidden to pronounce.
(In Egyptian-Per-o, whence the ancient Hebrew, Pharaoh.)
We'll give him a sleeping-draught in his beer so that there will be no
trouble with him."
... Slowly Pandion raised his heavy eyelids. He had been sleeping so
long that he had no conception of time or of his whereabouts. He had vague,
fragmentary memories of a bitter struggle in the stormy sea, of being taken
somewhere after that and then of lying in some quiet, dark place. He tried
to move but felt that his body was bound. Turning his head with difficulty
he saw a wall of green reeds topped with starlike brushes. Above him spread
the translucent sky; from somewhere nearby, quite close to his ear, came the
faint gurgle and splashing of water. It gradually dawned upon Pandion that
he was lying, bound hand and foot, in a long, narrow boat. By raising his
head he could see the bare legs of the men punting the boat along with long
poles. They were well-built men with skin the colour of bronze and they were
dressed in white loin-cloths.
"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" shouted Pandion, trying to
catch a glimpse of the people standing in the stern of the boat.
One of them, a man with a clean-shaven face, bent over Pandion and said
something in rapid tones. The strange language, with its melodious tongue
clicks and strongly accented vowels, was quite incomprehensible. Pandion
strained all his muscles in an effort to break his bonds, continually
repeating the same questions. It gradually sank into the mind of the
unfortunate captive that these people could not possibly understand him.
Pandion managed to rock the boat but one of his escort immediately brought a
bronze dagger close to his eyes. Disgusted with people, with himself and
with the world at large, Pandion ceased his attempts at resistance and did
not renew them again during his long journey through the labyrinth of swamp
rushes. By the time the boat reached a stone wharf the sun had long passed
the horizon and the moon hung high in the sky.
Here his legs were unbound and quickly and skilfully massaged to
restore circulation. The soldiers lit two torches and made their way to a
high rammed earth wall in which was a heavy, bronze-bound door.
After a lengthy altercation with the soldiers of the watch, Pandion's
escort handed a tiny scroll over to a sleepy-eyed, bearded man who had
suddenly appeared, and received in return a piece of black leather.
The heavy door groaned on its hinges. Pandion's hands were unbound and
he was thrust into the prison. The warders, armed with spears and bows,
pushed back a heavy wooden beam and Pandion found himself in a small square
room packed with human bodies lying pell-mell on the floor. The people were
breathing heavily and groaning in their unquiet sleep. Pandion, choking from
the foul stench that seemed to ooze from the very walls, looked for an empty
space on the floor and sat carefully down. He could not sleep; he pondered
over the events of the last few -days and his heart grew heavy within him.
The hours of his lonely, nocturnal meditation dragged slowly by.
Pandion thought of nothing but liberty although at the moment he could
see no way of escape from bondage. He was far in the interior of an
absolutely unknown country; alone, an unarmed captive, who knew nothing of
the language of the hostile people that surrounded him, he could not
undertake anything. He realized that they did not intend to kill him and
resolved to wait. Later, when he knew something about the country ... but
what, then, awaited him in that "later"? As never before Pandion felt the
urgent need of a companion who would help him overcome his terrible
desolation. He pondered over the fact that there was no worse state for a
man to be in-alone amongst strange and hostile people in an unknown and
unknowable country, a slave, cut off from the whole world by virtue of his
status. Loneliness would be much easier to bear if he were alone with
nature- such solitude would strengthen rather than weaken his spirit.
Pandion bowed to his fate and fell into a strange lethargy. He awaited
dawn and looked indifferently upon his companions in misfortune, captives
from different Asian tribes unknown to him. They were better off than he
was, they could talk to one another, they could share their grief, recall
the past and discuss the future. The other prisoners cast equally curious
glances on the silent Hellene.
The warders threw Pandion a piece of coarse linen for a loin-cloth and
then four black-skinned men brought in a big earthen vessel of water, barley
cakes and the stalks of some green vegetable.
Pandion was astounded at the sight of absolutely black faces in which
the teeth, the whites of the eyes and the brownish-red lips stood out so
brightly. He guessed that they were slaves and was surprised at their jolly
and kindly countenances. The Negroes laughed, showing their white teeth,
made fun of the prisoners and of each other. Was it possible, that, with the
passage of time, he, too, would be capable of finding joy in anything, of
forgetting the pitiful role of a man deprived of his liberty? Could this
constant ache that was gnawing at his heart possibly pass away? And Thessa?
O Gods, if Thessa should know where he was! No, Thessa must never know-he
would return to her or die, there was no other way. . . .
Pandion's thoughts were disturbed by a long drawn-out cry. The door
opened. Before his eyes sparkled a wide river-his place of imprisonment was
quite close to the water's edge. A strong detachment of soldiers surrounded
the captives with a phalanx of spears and drove them into the hold of a big
ship. The ship sailed away upstream and the captives were given no
opportunity to look round them. It was stiflingly hot in the hold; the sun,
standing high in the heavens, scorched the prisoners, and it was difficult
to breathe in an atmosphere befouled by their exhalations.
Towards evening it grew cooler, the exhausted captives began to recover
and started talking. The vessel sailed on all night, there was a short halt
in the morning when the prisoners were fed, and the wearying journey
continued. Several days passed in this way but Pandion, stupefied and
apathetic, lost count of them.
At last a more lively note could be heard in the voices of the rowers
and soldiers and there were sounds of bustle on deck-the long journey was
over. The captives were left in the hold all night and in the morning
Pandion heard orders given in a loud, drawling voice.
The escort stood in a half-circle, spears thrust out in front of them,
on a dusty sun-baked square. The captives left the ship one by one and
immediately fell into the hands of two giant soldiers beside whom lay a heap
of short ropes. The Egyptians bound the prisoners' arms so tightly that
their shoulders were bent back and their elbows met behind them. The groans
and cries of the victims had no effect on the giants who gloried in their
own strength and in the helplessness of their victims.
Pandion's turn came. One of the soldiers seized him by the arm
immediately the youth, blinded by the glaring sun, set foot on land. The
pain drove away all Pandion's apathy. He had been trained in fist-fighting
and easily escaped the hands of the soldier. He struck him a deadly blow on
the ear; the giant fell face down in the dust and the other, momentarily
losing his presence of mind, jumped away. Pandion was surrounded by thirty
enemy soldiers with their spears pointed at him.
In unspeakable fury the youth leaped forward hoping to die in battle,
for death seemed like deliverance to him. . . . He did not, however, know
the Egyptians, whose methods of handling recalcitrant slaves were the
accumulated result of thousands of years' experience. The soldiers
immediately gave way and closed in behind Pandion who was thus left outside
the circle. The bold youth was knocked off his feet and borne to the ground
under the weight of several attackers. The end of a spear-shaft caught him a
sharp blow in the ribs. The breath was knocked out of him and a fiery-red
haze floated before his eyes. In an instant the Egyptians brought his hands
together above his head and fastened them to a wooden instrument shaped like
a toy boat.
The soldiers then left the youth in peace.
The remaining captives were quickly bound and all of them were driven
off along a narrow road between the river and the fields. The young sculptor
suffered intense pain: his arms were stretched at full length above his head
with the wrists gripped in a wooden clamp that squeezed the bones. This
instrument of torture did not permit him to bend his elbows or lower his
hands on to his head.
A second party of slaves joined Pandion's group from a side road; then
came a third party until there were altogether two hundred slaves in the
group.
All of them were bound in a most cruel manner and a number were wearing
stocks like Pandion's. The captives' faces were twisted in pain, they were
pallid and dripping with perspiration. Pandion walked along in a daze,
scarcely taking note of his surroundings.
The country through which they marched was a rich one. The air was
clean and fresh, silence reigned on the narrow roads and the mighty river
carried its waters slowly towards the Great Green Sea. The palms nodded
their heads very slightly in the light breeze from the north and green
fields of ripening wheat were interspersed with vineyards and orchards. The
entire country was a huge garden, carefully tended for thousands of years.
Pandion could not look from side to side. He stumbled along, his teeth
clenched in pain, past the high walls that surrounded the houses of the
wealthy. The houses were light and airy two-storied structures with high,
narrow windows over the columned entrances. The snow-white walls, decorated
with an intricate pattern in pure, bright colours, stood out sharply in the
blinding sunlight.
Quite suddenly the captives were confronted by a colossal stone edifice
with straight, enormously thick-walls built of huge blocks of stone dressed
with amazing skill. The dark and mysterious building seemed to be
spread-eagled on the earth which it crushed under its terrific weight.
Pandion passed a row of heavy columns, gloomily grey against the bright
green background of the gardens that covered the plain. Palms, fig- and
other fruit-trees alternated in seemingly endless straight rows. The hills
were covered with a dense tangle of grape vines.
In a garden by the river stood a high, light structure painted in the
same bright colours as the other buildings of that city. Before the facade,
opening on to the river, and beyond wide gates, stood tall mast-like poles
with bunches of waving ribbons on top of them. Over the wide entrance was a
huge snow-white balcony with two columns supporting a perfectly flat roof.
The cornice of the roof was painted with an ornament in which bright blue
and gold designs alternated. The bright blue and gold zigzags also
ornamented the capitals of the columns.
At the back of the balcony, in the shade cast by carpets and curtains,
could be seen people dressed in long white garments of some finely pleated
material. The personage seated in the centre inclined over the rail a head
heavy with the red and white double crown of the ruler of the two Kingdoms,
Upper and Lower Egypt.
The escort, together with the commander, who had marched so importantly
at their head, prostrated themselves face downwards on the ground. On a
motion of the hand of Pharaoh, the living god and supreme ruler of the land
of Tha-Quem, the captives were drawn up in a single line and marched slowly
past the balcony. The courtiers who crowded the balcony exchanged whispered
remarks and laughed merrily. The beauty of the palace, the opulent raiment
of Pharaoh and his courtiers, their haughty, free and easy postures made a
sharp contrast to the pain-racked faces of the tormented slaves-and this
aroused fierce indignation in Pandion's heart. He was beside himself from
the pain in his arms, his body trembled as though with ague, his badly
bitten lips were caked with dried blood, but the youth straightened his
back, heaved a deep sigh and turned a wrathful face towards the balcony.
Pharaoh turned and said something to his courtiers and all of them
nodded their heads in approval. The procession of slaves moved slowly on.
Soon Pandion found himself behind the house, in the shade of a high wall.
Gradually the whole party of slaves gathered there, still surrounded by the
silent soldiers. From around the corner appeared a corpulent, hook-nosed man
carrying a long ebony staff inlaid with gold and accompanied by a scribe
carrying a wooden tablet and a roll of papyrus.
The man said something to the commander of the escort in haughty tones,
the commander immediately doubled up in a low bow and transmitted the order
to his soldiers. Obeying the aristocratic finger the soldiers pushed their
way into the crowd of prisoners and brought out those indicated to them.
Pandion was one of the first to be selected. Altogether about thirty of the
strongest and bravest-looking were chosen and were immediately marched back
along the same narrow road to the edge of the garden. From there the
soldiers drove their captives along a low wall. The path grew steeper and
led to a square of windowless walls standing in a hollow between the
wheat-fields. Soldiers armed with bows walked freely up and down thick,
brick-built walls some ten cubits in height. On the corners there were
shelters of matting.
The entrance was in the wall facing the river and nowhere else were
there either doors or windows; the blank, greenish-grey walls breathed fiery
heat.
The prisoners were led through the doorway, their escort withdrew
rapidly and Pandion found himself in a narrow courtyard between two walls.
The second or inner wall was lower than the outer and had only one door, on
its right-hand side. A number of crude benches occupied the vacant space in
the courtyard although most of it was taken up by a low building with a
black hole of an entrance. The group of captives was now surrounded by
soldiers with lighter coloured skin than those who had escorted them on
their journey. They were all tall, with lithe, well-developed bodies and
many of them had blue eyes and reddish hair. Pandion had never seen such
people before any more than he had seen the true inhabitants of Aigyptos and
did not know that they were Libyans.
Two men came out of the building; one of them carried something made of
polished wood and the other, a grey faience pot. The Libyans seized Pandion
and turned him round with his back towards the newcomers. The youth felt a
slight pricking sensation on his left shoulder blade, on which a polished
wooden board, bristling with short needles, had been placed. The man then
struck the board sharply with his hand, the blood spurted out and Pandion
gave an involuntary cry of pain. The Libyan wiped away the blood and began
rubbing the wound with a rag soaked in some liquid from the faience pot; the
blood ceased flowing immediately but he dipped the rag in the liquid several
times and continued to rub the wound. Only then did Pandion notice the
bright red mark-some little figures in an oval frame ( The hieroglyphs of
Pharaoh's name were written in an oval frame or cartouche.)-on the left
shoulders of the Libyans that surrounded him and realized that he had been
branded.
The wooden frame was removed from Pandion's wrists and he was unable to
stifle the groan caused by the pain in his stiffened joints. With the
greatest difficulty he lowered his arms. Then, bending low, he entered the
doorway in the inner wall and there, in a dusty courtyard, sank exhausted to
the ground.
Pandion took a drink of stale water from the huge earthen jar that
stood by the door and began to examine the place that was, in the opinion of
those in authority, to be his home to the end of his days.
The huge square of land with a side of about two stadia was surrounded
by high inaccessible walls guarded by sentries who walked up and down them.
The entire right-hand half of the enclosure was occupied by tiny rammed
earth cells built one against the other, the rows of them separated by long
narrow gangways. There were similar tiny cells in the left-hand corner. The
anterior left-hand corner was surrounded by a low wall and a strong smell of
ammonia came from there. Vessels for water stood near the door. Here a long
strip of ground had been plastered with clay and was swept clean: this was
the place allotted for eating, as Pandion learned later.
All the free space in the square was trampled hard and smooth, not a
single blade of grass relieved its dusty grey-surface. The air was heavy and
stifling, it seemed as though all the fiery heat of the day was poured into
that sunken square, cut off by high walls and open to the sky. This was the
shehne, the slave compound, one of hundreds scattered throughout the land of
Tha-Quem. Slaves of all nations were crowded in these compounds-they
constituted the labour power that was the foundation of the wealth and
beauty of Aigyptos. The compound was silent and deserted-the slaves were out
at work, only a few sick men were left lying listlessly in the shade of the
wall. This particular shehne was designed for newly arrived captives who had
but recently fallen victims to the land of slavery and had not established
families to increase the number of hands toiling in the Black Land.
Pandion had now become a mere, an hereditary slave of Pharaoh, and was
one of the eight thousand who served in gardens, canals and buildings of the
palace domains.
Other captives from amongst those who had been through the royal
inspection with Pandion were distributed amongst the higher officials as
sahu-slaves who on the death of their masters would be transferred to the
shehne of Pharaoh.
An oppressive silence filled the stifling atmosphere, broken only by
occasional sighs and groans from the new slaves driven here together with
Pandion. The brand burned like red-hot coals on Pandion's back. The youth
could find no place for himself. The open sea and shady groves on the
wave-washed shores of his native land were replaced by a patch of dusty
earth hemmed in by high walls. Instead of a free life together with his
beloved-slavery in a foreign land infinitely far from all that was near and
dear to him.
It was only the hope of liberation that kept the young Hellene from
smashing his head against the wall that cut him off from the wide and
beautiful world.
III. THE SLAVE OF PHARAOH
AS in previous years the bushes burst into flower covering the hill
slopes with a flaming carpet, when spring came again to the shores of
Oeniadae. The bright constellation of the Archer (The early setting of the
Archer constellation was regarded as heralding the end of the winter
storms.)had begun to set early, the regular west wind heralded the beginning
of the seafaring season. Five ships had returned to Calydon, having left for
Crete in early spring, and then two Cretan ships had arrived. But Pandion
was on none of them.
Agenor was frequently lost in silent meditation but he strove to keep
his feelings of alarm hidden from his family.
The lone traveller had disappeared in Crete, had been lost somewhere in
the mountains of that huge island amidst big communities of people whose
languages he did not know.
The old artist had decided to go to Calydon and from there, if
opportunity offered, to leave for Crete in order to find out what he could
of Pandion's fate.
Thessa had lately got into the habit of wandering off alone. Even the
silent sympathy of her family lay heavy on her.
In profound grief the girl stood before the calm, eternally moving sea.
Sometimes she ran down to the shore in the hope that Pandion would return to
the place where they had parted.
But these days of hope had long since passed. Thessa was now certain
that far beyond the line that divides the sky from the sea some misfortune
had occurred. Only captivity or death could have prevented Pandion from
returning to her.
And Thessa implored the waves that came rolling in from afar, perhaps
from that place where her beloved P and km was now-implored them to tell her
what had happened. And she was sure that she had to wait but a little while
and the waves would give her a sign to tell her where Pandion was. But the
waves the sea cast at her feet were all alike, and their rhythmic noise told
her no more than silence would have done.
How could she discover what had become of her lover? How could she, a
woman, whose lot in life is to be with her man, the mistress and protector
of his home, his companion when travelling and the healer of his wounds-how
could she overcome the distance that separated them? There was but one road
for the woman who refused to obey a man, be it her father, husband or
brother, and that was to become a hetaera in the city or the harbour. She
was a woman-she could not set out for another country, she could not even
make an attempt to search for Pandion.
There was nothing left for her to do but wander up and clown the shores
of the mighty sea. There was nothing she could do! No way in which she could
help!
Even if Pandion had perished she would never, never know where he had
died.
A deluge of silver-blue moonlight inundated the entire valley. It was
cut off by deep black shadows from crevices in the steep cliffs but it
streamed along the river following its course from south to north.
Darkness filled the square well of the slave compound near Nut-Amon, or
Waset, the great capital city of Aigyptos.
The wall was brightly illuminated and cast a dull reflection from its
rough surface.
Pandicn lay on a bundle of coarse grass on the floor of his narrow
cell. With great caution he thrust his head out of the low entrance that
looked like a rat-hole. At the risk of attracting the sentries' attention
the young Hellene got up on his knees to admire the pale disc of the moon
floating high in the heavens over the edge of the gloomy wall. It was
painful to think that the same moon was shining over distant Oeniadae.
Perhaps Thessa, his Thessa, was asking Hecate where he was, little
suspecting that from his stinking hole his eyes, too, were fixed on that
silver disc. Pandion drew his head back into the darkness that was filled
with the dusty smell of heated clay and turned his face to the wall.
The raging despair of the first days, the fits of terrible grief, had
long since passed. Pandion had changed very considerably. His thick,
clean-cut brows were knit in a permanent frown, the golden eyes of the
descendant of Hyperion were dark with the fires of wrath that secretly but
stubbornly burned in them, his lips were now kept tightly pressed together.
His mighty body, however, was still filled with inexhaustible energy,
his intellect was unimpaired. The youth had not lost heart; he still dreamed
of liberty.
Pandion was gradually developing into a fighting man who was to be
feared not only on account of his courage, strength and boundless
determination but also because of the urge to maintain his spirits even in
the hell that surrounded, him and to carry his dreams, desires and love
through all trials and tribulations. That which had been impossible to a
lonely man ignorant of the language and the country had become eminently
possible-Pandion had a companion, a comrade. A comrade! Only he who has had
to stand alone in the face of menacingly superior forces, only he who has
been alone in a distant foreign land can appreciate to the full the meaning
of that word. A comrade means friendly help, understanding, protection,
common thoughts and dreams, wise counsel, timely reproach, support and
comfort. During the seven months he had been employed on jobs in the
vicinity of the capital Pandion had learned something of the strange
language of Aigyptos and began to understand his fellow-slaves despite their
many tongues.
He began to distinguish those who had clear-cut, well-defined
individuality from amongst the five hundred slaves confined in the shehne
and daily driven out to work.
On their part the other slaves gradually learned to trust one another
and some of them became friendly with Pandion.
The terrible privations which they shared, the common longing for
liberty united them in a common struggle to win their emancipation, strike a
blow at the blind, oppressive forces of the rulers of the Black Land and
return to their long-lost native lands. "
Home-that was a word they could all understand although to some it
meant a land that lay beyond the mysterious swamps in the south, to others
somewhere beyond the sands to the east or west and to the third, like
Pandion, a land beyond the seas in the north.
There were but few in the shehne, however, who had strength enough to
prepare for the combat. The others, exhausted by their heavy drudgery and
perpetual undernourishment, were slowly fading away without a murmur. These
were mostly people of advanced age, who had no interest in what was going on
around them; there was not a spark of resolution in their dull eyes; they
showed no desire to communicate with their companions; they worked, ate
slowly and sank into a heavy sleep and next morning shuddered at the cries
of the warders who awakened them to trudge along in the column of slaves,
sluggish and indifferent.
Pandion soon realized why there were so many separate cells in the
slave compound: they kept people apart. After supper it was forbidden to
hold communication with one another; the sentries on the wall watched for
infringements of this rule and next morning an arrow or a stick fell to the'
lot of the disobedient. Not every slave possessed either the strength or the
courage to take advantage of the darkness and crawl to the cells of his
companions, but some of Pandion's comrades did.
Three men became Pandion's closest companions. The first of them was
Kidogo, a huge Negro almost four cubits in height who came from a very
distant part of Africa to the south-west of Aigyptos. Kindly, jolly and
exuberant Kidogo was also a skilled artist and sculptor. His expressive face
with its broad nose and thick lips immediately attracted Pandion's attention
by its intellect and energy. Pandion was used to well-built Negroes, but
this giant immediately drew the attention of the sculptor by the beauty of
his well-proportioned body. Muscles seemingly forged from iron suited
Kidogo's light and lithe figure. His huge eyes seemed all attention and were
astounding in their animation against the background of a black face.
At first Pandion and Kidogo communicated with each other by means of
drawings made with a pointed stick on the earth or on walls. Later the young
Hellene began to talk to the Negro in a mixture of the language of Quemt and
the simple, easily remembered language of Kidogo's people.
In the pitch darkness of moonless nights Pandion and Kidogo crawled to
each other's cells, and talking in whispers, gained fresh strength and
courage in the discussion of plans for escape.
One evening after Pandion had been there for a month a group of new
slaves was driven into the shehne.
The newcomers sat or lay near the door gazing hopelessly around them,
their tormented faces bearing the seal of grief and despair so well known to
every one of the captives. On returning from work in the evening Pandion was
going to the big water vessels to get a drink when suddenly he almost let
fall his bowl. Two of the newcomers were talking softly in Etruscan, a
language with which Pandion was familiar. The Etruscans were a strange,
rough and ancient people who frequently visited the shores of Oeniadae where
they enjoyed the reputation of sorcerers knowing the secrets of nature.
So great was the power of memories of his home that had been evoked
that Pandion's whole body trembled; he spoke to the Etruscans and they
understood him. . When he asked them how they fell captive to the Egyptians
both of them sat silent as though they were not at all pleased with the
meeting.
The two Etruscans were of medium height, very muscular and with broad
shoulders. Their dark hair was matted with dirt and hung in uneven strands
on both sides of their faces. The elder of the two was apparently about
forty years old and the younger was approximately the same age as Pandion.
The likeness between them was immediately apparent -their sunken cheeks
stressed the protruding cheekbones and their stern hazel eyes flashed with a
stubbornness that nothing could break.
Pandion was both puzzled and annoyed by the indifference of the
Etruscans and hurried back to his own cell. For several days after this
Pandion deliberately paid no attention to them although he knew they were
watching him.
Some ten days after the arrival of the Etruscans Pandion and Kidogo
were sitting side by side over a supper of papyrus stalks. The two friends
ate their food quickly and then lingered a while to talk while the others
were finishing their meal. Pandion's neighbour on the other side was the
elder Etruscan. Unexpectedly he laid his heavy hand on the youth's shoulder
and looked mockingly into Pandion's eyes when he turned towards him.
"A poor comrade will never gain his liberty," said the Etruscan slowly
with a note of challenge in his words; he did not fear that the warders
would understand him for the inhabitants of Tha-Quem did not understand the
languages of their captives and despised all foreigners.
Pandion jerked his shoulder impatiently, not having understood the
import of the Etruscan's words, but the latter squeezed hard with his
fingers that dug into Pandion's muscles like bronze talons.
"You despise them, and you shouldn't." The Etruscan nodded his head
towards the other slaves who were busily eating. "The others are no worse
than you and they also dream of liberty. . . ."
"They are worse," exclaimed Pandion arrogantly. "They've been here a
long time and I haven't heard of any attempts at escape!"
The Etruscan pressed his lips together contemptuously.
"If youth doesn't possess sufficient intelligence, then youth must
learn from age. You're strong and healthy, there's still strength left in
your body after a day's heavy toil, and lack of food hasn't yet undermined
your strength. They have lost their strength; that's the only difference
between you and them, and that's your good luck. But remember that you can't
escape from here alone: you have to know the road and break through by force
and the only force we have is all of us together. When you are a good
comrade to all of them there'll be a better chance of your dreams coming
true. . . ."
Amazed at the shrewdness of the Etruscan who had fathomed his most
secret thoughts, Pandion could find no answer and only hung his head in
silence.
"What's he saying? What's he saying?" Kidogo kept asking him.
Pandion wanted to explain but at that moment the overseer beat on the
table; the slaves who had finished their meal had to make way for the next
party and go to their cells for their night's rest.
During the night Pandion and Kidogo discussed the Etruscan's words for
a long time. They had to admit that the newcomer understood the position of
the slaves better than anybody else. Those who bore the brand of Pharaoh had
to know the way out of the country if their escape was to be successful.
This was not all: they had to fight their way through a country with a
hostile population who believed that the "savages" had been created to work
for the people chosen by the gods.
The two friends were despondent at this but they had a feeling of trust
in the clever Etruscan.
A few more days passed and there were four friends in Pharaoh's shehne.
Gradually they acquired greater authority amongst the other slaves.
The elder Etruscan, who bore the awe-inspiring name of Cavius, the god
of death, was regarded as their senior by many of the staves. The three
others, the young Etruscan, whose name was Remdus, Kidogo and Pandion, three
strong, hardy and bold men, became his most reliable assistants.
By degrees from amongst the five hundred slaves more and more fighters
appeared who were willing to risk their lives in the faint hope of returning
to their native lands. And just as slowly the remainder, the cowed,
tormented and oppressed, regained confidence in their strength and the hope
grew stronger that by uniting they could resist the organized might of a
huge state.
But the days passed, empty and aimless, bitter days of captivity, days
of heavy drudgery that they hated if only because it contributed towards the
prosperity of the cruel taskmasters who had thousands of human lives at
their disposal. At sunrise each day columns of worn-out men under armed
escort left the shehne for work in different places.
The inhabitants of Aigyptos despised all foreigners and did not take
the trouble to learn the languages of their captives. For this reason fresh
slaves were at first employed on the simplest tasks; later, as they learned
the Quemt language, they were given more complicated instructions and
learned handicrafts. The overseers did not bother about the names of their
slaves and called them by the names of the peoples to which they belonged.
Thus Pandion was called Ekwesha-Egyptian for all the peoples of the
Aegean Sea; the Etruscans were Turu-sha, while Kidogo and all other black
slaves were simply called Nehsu-Negro.
For the first two months in the shehne Pandion and forty other fresh
slaves did repair work on the canals in the Gardens of Amon, ( A temple at
Karnak, near Luxor.)
rebuilt dykes washed away by the previous year's floods, loosened the
earth around fruit-trees, pumped water and carried it to the flower-beds.
The overseers took note of the hardiness, strength and ability of the
newcomers and gradually selected a new detachment which was sent for
building work. It happened that the four friends and thirty other strong
slaves- the leaders of the mass of slaves in the shehne-were all in the same
group. When they were transferred to building work, their regular contact
with the others was interrupted since they remained away from the shehne for
weeks on end.
The first work given to Pandion away from Pharaoh's gardens was the
dismantling of an old temple and tomb on the west bank of the river some
fifty stadia from the shehne. The slaves were loaded on a boat and ferried
across the river under the supervision of an overseer and five soldiers.
They were marched along a path northwards to a ridge of vertical cliffs that
here formed a gigantic ledge. The path led them past tilled fields on to a
metalled road; suddenly a picture was unfolded before Pandion's eyes that
for ever impressed itself on his memory. The slaves had been halted on a
wide-open space sloping down to the river and the overseer had gone away,
bidding them await his return.
This was the first opportunity Pandion had of studying his surroundings
more or less leisurely.
Directly in front of him rose a vertical wall of copper-coloured rock,
three hundred cubits high, dotted with patches of blue-black shadow. From
the foot of the cliff the white colonnade of a temple spread out in three
terraces. A path of smooth grey stone rose from the riverside plain; on
either side were rows of strangely carved sphinxes-monsters in the form of
recumbent lions with human heads. Further a broad, white staircase between
walls on which were carved twining yellow snakes, one on either side, led to
the second terraced building supported by low columns, twice the height of a
man, of dazzlingly white limestone. In the central part of the temple he
noticed a second row of similar columns. On each of them was the
representation of a human figure in a royal crown with the hands folded on
the breast.
The second terrace of the temple, a big open space with a lane of
recumbent sphinxes, was flanked by a colonnade. Some thirty cubits higher
was the third, or upper, terrace of the temple, completely surrounded by a
colonnade and filling a natural indenture in the cliff face.
The lower terrace of the temple extended in width over a distance of
some one and a half stadia; at the extremes there were simple cylindrical
columns, in the centre they were square and higher up they had six or
sixteen faces. The central columns, the capitals of the side columns, the
cornices of the porticos and the human figures were all painted in bright
blue and red colours which made the glaring white of the stone still more
dazzling.
This temple, brightly lit up by the sun, formed a striking contrast to
other gloomy, oppressive temple buildings that Pandion had seen. The young
Hellene could not imagine anything more beautiful than those rows of
snow-white columns in a framework of coloured patterns. On the terraces grew
trees such as Pandion had never seen before-low trees with a dense cluster
of branches covered with tiny leaves growing close to each other. These
trees gave off a very powerful aroma and their golden-green foliage gave
them a very gay appearance backed by snow-white columns accentuated by the
red cliffs.
In a burst of wild admiration Kidogo nudged Pandion, smacked his lips
and emitted inarticulate sounds expressing approbation.
None of the slaves knew that the temple before which they stood had
been built about five hundred years earlier by the architect Sennemut for
his mistress Queen Hatshe-psut ( Hatshepsut-Queen of the XVIIIth Dynasty
(1500-1457 B.C.). The temple is at Deir-el-Bahri.) and was called
Zesher-Zesheru-the most magnificent of the magnificent. ( The Temple of
Montuhotep IV, a Pharaoh of the Middle Kingdom, Xlth Dynasty, about 2050
B.C). The strange trees growing on the terraces had been brought from the
Land of Punt to which Queen Hatshepsut had sent a big expedition by sea.
Since that time it had been the custom for every new expedition to Punt to
bring back young trees for the temple and renew the old plantation which was
thus seemingly preserved from ancient days.
The voice of the overseer came from the distance. The slaves moved
hurriedly away from the temple and passing round it to the left, found yet
another temple, also built on a ledge on the cliff, this time in the form of
a small pyramid resting on rows of closely placed columns.
Higher up the river there were two other temples of polished grey
granite. The overseer led his party to the nearest of them where they joined
another party of about two hundred slaves busy dismantling the temple. The
white plaster on the interior walls was decorated with brightly-coloured
drawings executed with great mastery. The building officials and technicians
of Aigyptos, who had charge of the work, were only interested in the
polished granite blocks with which the portico and the colonnade were faced.
The interior walls were ruthlessly destroyed.
Pandion was shocked at this wanton destruction of ancient works of art
and managed to get into the group of slaves employed in piling the stones on
to wooden sleds and dragging them down to the river to be loaded on a
low-lying boat.
He did not know that the Pharaohs of Aigyptos had long been dismantling
ancient temples, mostly those of the Middle Kingdom (2160-1580 B.C.) which
contained a large quantity of beautifully dressed stone; they had no respect
for monuments of the past and hastened to perpetuate their own names by
building temples and tombs from ready materials.
Neither the Hyksos, the barbaric Shepherd Kings who had conquered
Tha-Quem many centuries before, nor the slaves who revolted and ruled the
country for a short period some two hundred years before Pandion was born,
had touched these magnificent edifices. But now, following the secret
instructions of the new Pharaohs of Aigyptos, the temples and tombs of the
ancient kings were being dismantled and gold poured into the treasury of the
rulers from the plundered tombs hidden under the ancient sand-covered
pyramids and from the magnificent underground tombs of the great kings of
the XVIIIth, XIXth and XXth dynasties.
Pandion spent altogether three months on this work of dismantling the
temple. He and Kidogo worked hard, doing their utmost to lighten the labour
of their comrades. This was exactly what their taskmasters wanted: the
labour system in Tha-Quem was organized in such a way that the weak had to
keep pace with the strong. The unusual strength and shrewdness of Kidogo and
Pandion attracted the attention of the overseers and they were sent to the
workshop of the stone-masons to learn the craft. One of Pharaoh's sculptors
took them away from this workshop and thus cut them off completely from
their comrades in the shahne. Pandion and Kidogo were housed in a long,
uncomfortable shed with a number of other slaves who had already mastered
the simple craft. Native inhabitants of Aigyptos, free craftsmen, occupied a
few huts in one corner of the big workshop yard where there were piles of
undressed stone and rubble. The Egyptians kept markedly clear of the slaves
as though they might be punished for any connections with them; later
Pandion learned that this actually was the case.
The master of the workshop, a royal sculptor, did not suspect that
Pandion and Kidogo were real sculptors and was astonished at the progress
they made. The young men longed for some creative activity and gave
themselves up whole-heartedly to their work, forgetting for a time that they
were working for the hated Pharaoh and the vile land of slavery.
Kidogo waxed enthusiastic over his models of animals: hippopotamuses,
crocodiles, antelopes and other strange beasts Pandion had never seen; his
models were used by other slaves to make faience statuettes. The Egyptian
sculptor noticed Pandion's fondness for modelling people and undertook to
teach this promising young Ekwesha; he insisted on the utmost thoroughness
in work done to order. "The slightest negligence is the ruin of perfection,"
the Egyptian sculptor would constantly repeat-this was the watchword of the
ancient masters of the Black Land. The Hellene studied assiduously and at
times his nostalgia was forgotten. He made great progress in the precise
work of finishing off statues and bas-reliefs from hard stone and in the
embossing of gold ornaments.
Pandion accompanied the sculptor to Pharaoh's palace and saw there
apartments of unbelievable luxury. On the coloured floors of the royal
quarters there were representations of the thickets of the Great River with
their plants and animals, all drawn wonderfully lifelike and framed with
wavy lines or spirals of many colours. The faience tiles on the walls of the
rooms were covered with a transparent blue glaze through which shone
fantastic designs in gold leaf, works of art that were nothing less than
magic.
Amidst all this magnificence the young Hellene looked with hatred on
the haughty, immobile courtiers. He examined their white garments, ironed in
tiny pleats, their heavy necklaces, rings and lockets of cast gold, their
wigs of curled hair falling to the shoulders and their embroidered slippers
with upturned toes.
Like a silent shadow Pandion followed the hurrying master sculptor; on
his way he took note of valuable thin-walled vessels cut from rock-crystal
and hard stone, glass vases and pots of grey faience decorated with pale
blue designs. He was fully aware of the tremendous amount of labour that had
gone into the production of these works of art.
The greatest impression was produced by a gigantic temple near the
Gardens of Amon where Pandion began his life as a slave, languishing behind
the high walls of the she fine.
This was a temple of many gods built in the course of more than a
thousand years. Each of the kings of Tha-Quem had added something new to an
already huge structure more than eight hundred cubits in length.
On the right bank of the river, within the bounds of the capital city
Nut-Amon, or simply Nut-the city-as the Egyptians called it, lay magnificent
gardens with straight rows of high palms at both ends of which were a number
of temples. These temple buildings were connected by long avenues of statues
of strange animals with the river-banks and the sacred lake in front of the
Temple of Mut, a goddess that Pandion could not understand.
Granite beasts, three times the height of a man, with the bodies of
lions and the heads of rams and men, gave him a sensation of oppressiveness.
Mysterious, frozen into immobility, they lay on their pedestals, close
together, bordering an avenue lit up by the blinding sun, their heads
hanging over passers-by.
The lofty obelisks, fifty cubits high, covered in bright yellow sheets
of an amalgam of gold and silver, gleamed like incandescent needles thrust
through the coarse, dark foliage of the palms. In daytime the silver-covered
slabs of stone with which the avenues were paved blinded the astonished
eyes; by night, in the light of the moon and stars, they were like the
flowing stream of an unearthly river of light.
Enormous pylons flanked the entrance to the temple. The huge surfaces
of these pylons were covered with enormous sculptures of the gods and
Pharaohs and with inscriptions in the mysterious language of Tha-Quem.
Colossal doors, covered with sheets of bronze inlaid with ornaments in the
gold-silver amalgam, closed the passage between the pylons; their cast
bronze hinges, each the weight of several bulls, were imposing in their
massiveness.
The interior of the temple was a forest of thick columns fifty cubits
high carrying heavy bas-reliefs that filled the upper part of the temple.
The huge blocks of stone in the walls, roof and columns were polished and
fitted to each other with miraculous precision.
Drawings and bas-reliefs, painted in bright colours, covered the walls,
columns and cornices in several tiers. Sun discs, hawks and animal-headed
gods gazed down morosely from the mysterious semi-darkness of the distant
parts of the temple.
Outside there were the same bright colours, gold and silver; the
monstrously massive buildings and sculptures stunned, blinded and oppressed
all who saw them.
Everywhere Pandion saw statues of pink and black granite, red sandstone
and yellow limestone-the deified rulers of Tha-Quem sitting in inhuman
serenity and arrogant poses. In some cases these were colossi up to forty
cubits in height cut from the living rock, angular and crude; others,
awe-inspiring in their dreadful gloom, were carefully painted, well-finished
sculptures, much more than human height.
Pandion had grown up amongst simple people in constant communion with
nature and was at first overcome with awe. Everything in this huge, rich
country produced a most profound impression on him.
The giant structures built by some means beyond the ken of mortal man,
the awful gods hidden in the gloom of the temples, the incomprehensible
religion with its intricate rites, the mark of antiquity on the
sand-embedded buildings-all this at first gave Pandion a sense of
oppressiveness. He believed that the haughty and inscrutable inhabitants of
Aigyptos were the masters of profound truths, of some powerful science that
was hidden in the writings of the Black Land which no foreigner could
understand.
The country itself, squeezed by death-dealing, lifeless deserts into a
narrow strip of valley watered by a huge river carrying its waters from some
distant and unknown place in the far south, was a world unto itself, in no
way related to the other parts of Oicumene.
The sober mind of the young Hellene, however, gradually sifted this
mass of impressions in the search for simple and natural truths.
Pandion now had time for meditation; the young sculptor's spirit, with
its constant striving for the beautiful, began to revolt against the life
and art of Aigyptos, a protest that later became conscious.
The fertile land, in which inclement weather was unknown, the bright,
clear and almost permanently cloudless sky, the amazingly transparent and
invigorating air, all seemed to have been specially created for a healthy
and happy life. Little as the young Hellene knew of the country, he could
not but help noticing the poverty and crowded conditions of the Nemhu, the
poorest and most numerous inhabitants of Aigyptos. The colossal temples and
statues, the beautiful gardens could not hide the endless rows of mud hovels
that housed tens of thousands of craftsmen working for those palaces and
temples. As far as the slaves languishing in hundreds of compounds were
concerned, Pandion knew about these from his own experience.
It gradually became clear to him that the art of Aigyptos, subordinated
to the rulers of the country, the Pharaohs and priests, and controlled by
them, was the exact opposite of that which he sought-the reflection of life
in art.
It was only when he caught sight of the temple Zesher-Zesheru, open and
designed to merge with the surrounding landscape, that he felt that here was
something close and pleasing to him.
All other giant temples and tombs were, as a rule, hidden behind high
walls. And behind those walls, the craftsmen of Aigyptos. working at the
bidding of the priests, had made use of all the artifice at their disposal
to take man away from life, to humiliate him and crush his spirit, force him
to realize his own insignificance in face of the majesty of the gods and the
Pharaohs.
The enormous size of the structures, the colossal amount of labour and
material involved did crush the spirit of man. The constantly repeated
succession of identical, monotonous forms, piled one on the other, created
the impression of infinite distance. Identical sphinxes, identical columns,
walls and pylons-all with a careful scantiness of detail-were solid and
immobile. Gigantic statues, all alike, lined the passages within the
temples, gloomy and ominous.
The rulers of Aigyptos and arbiters of her art were afraid of space;
they fenced themselves off from the world of nature and then filled the
interiors of. their temples with massive stone columns, thick walls and
stone beams that often occupied more space than did the room between them.
The greater the distance from the entrance, the thicker grew the forest of
columns in the temple, and the rooms, insufficiently lit, grew progressively
darker. The huge number of narrow doorways made the temple mysteriously
inaccessible and the permanent semi-darkness served to increase the fear of
the gods.
Pandion gradually fathomed the secret of this deliberate effect on the
spirit of man, an effect achieved through many centuries of building
experience.
If Pandion could have seen the enormous pyramids, whose perfect
geometrical form stood out so sharply above the wavy lines of the
surrounding sand, he would have sensed more fully the imperious manner of
setting off man against nature. This was the method adopted by the rulers of
Tha-Quem to conceal their fear of the unknown, a fear reflected in the
sullen, mysterious religion of the Egyptians.
The craftsmen of the Tha-Quem glorified their gods and their rulers,
striving to express their strength in colossal statues of the Pharaohs and
in the symmetrical immobility of their massive bodies.
On the walls the Pharaohs themselves were depicted in pictures more
than life size. Dwarfs swarmed around their feet-the other inhabitants of
the Black Land. In this way the kings of Egypt used every means at their
disposal to emphasize their greatness. They believed that by humiliating the
people in every way they were exalting themselves, that in this way their
influence would be augmented.
Pandion still knew very little of the beautiful native art, the real
art of the people of the Black Land, that was not held in bondage by
courtiers and priests but was expressed in articles of everyday use amongst
the common people. He felt that real art lay in a simple and joyful
coalescence with life itself. It should be as different from everything
created in Aigyptos as his native land with its variety of rivers, fields,
forests, sea and mountains, with its colourful change of seasons differed
from this country where the terraced cliffs rose so monotonously from one
single river valley, everywhere alike, that was surrounded on all sides by
burning- sands and filled with carefully tilled gardens. Thousands of years
before the inhabitants of Aigyptos had hidden from the hostile world in the
valley of the Nile. Today their descendants were trying to turn their faces
away from life by hiding in their palaces and temples.
Pandion felt that the majesty of the art of Aigyptos was to a
considerable extent the fruit of the natural abilities of slaves of
different races; the most talented were selected from millions and these
involuntarily devoted all their creative effort to the glorification of the
country that oppressed them. When he had freed himself of his submission to
the might of Aigyptos, Pandion resolved to escape as soon as possible and to
convince his friend Kidogo of the necessity of this step.
His head was filled with these ideas when he, with Kidogo and ten other
slaves, made a long trip to the ruins of the ancient town of Akhetaton. (
Akhetaton (Tel el-Amarna)-capital of Pharaoh Amenhotep IV, 1375-1358 B.C.)
The young sculptor ruffled the smooth surface of the river with his oars,
the fast movement of the boat downstream giving him a sensation of joy. The
journey was a long one, almost three thousand stadia, a distance virtually
equal to that which separated his native land from Crete and which had once
seemed to him to be immeasurably great. During this voyage Pandion learned
that the Great Green Sea, as the people of Aigyptos called it, and on the
northern shores of which Thessa was awaiting his return, was twice as far
away as Akhetaton.
Pandion's happy mood passed very quickly: for the first time he
realized how far inland he was in the depths of Aigyptos and how great a
distance separated him from the seacoast where there might be a possibility
of returning home.
He bent moodily over his oars and the boat slipped over the smooth
surface of the endless river, past thickets of green shrubs, tilled fields,
reed jungles and white-hot cliffs.
The royal sculptor lay under a striped awning in the sternsheets and
was fanned by a servile slave. Rows of tiny huts stretched along the
banks-the fertile land fed a tremendous number of people, thousands of
people swarmed the fields, gardens and papyrus thickets, toiling to earn a
scanty livelihood. Thousands of people packed the narrow streets of the.
countless villages on the outskirts of which towered huge ungainly temples,
closely shut off from the sun.
It suddenly struck Pandion that not only he and his comrades were
doomed to a pitiful existence in Tha-Quem, but the inhabitants of those
miserable huts were also enslaved by their joyless drudgery, that they, too,
were the slaves of the ruler and his courtiers despite the fact that they
despised him, Pandion, as a branded savage. . . .
Lost in thought, Pandion struck his neighbour's oar with his own.
"Hi, Ekwesha, wake up, look out for yourself!"
At night the slaves were shut up in the prisons that stood in the
vicinity of each township or temple.
Pharaoh's sculptor was everywhere treated with respect by the local
authorities and he went away to his rest accompanied by two trusted
servants.
On the fifth day the boat turned a bend formed by outjutting.
river-washed rocks. Beyond the bend lay an extensive plain cut off from the
river by rows of tall palms and sycamores. The boat approached a stone-paved
embankment with two wide staircases leading down to the water. A massive
tower rose behind a crenellated wall on the river-bank. The heavy gates
stood half-open and through them could be seen a garden with ponds and
flower-dotted lawns beyond which stood a white building decorated with
colourful designs.
This was the house of the High Priest of the local temples.
The royal sculptor, before whom the sentries bowed in servile humility,
entered the gates while the slaves remained outside under the surveillance
of two soldiers. They did not have to wait long, for the sculptor soon
returned with another man who carried a scroll of papyrus and led the slaves
past the temples and dwelling houses to a big site occupied by ruined walls
and a forest of columns, the roof over which had collapsed. Amongst the
ruins of this dead town there were, here and there, small buildings in a
better state of preservation. An occasional tree stump indicated the site of
former gardens; dried up ponds, basins and canals were filled with sand, a
thick layer of sand covered the stone-paved roads and piled up against walls
eroded by time. Not a living soul was to be seen anywhere, deadly silence
reigned in the blazing heat.
The sculptor explained to Pandion in a few words that these were the
ruins of the once beautiful capital of the Heretic Pharaoh ( The Heretic
Pharaoh-Amenhotep IV who tried to introduce into Egypt a new religion with
only one god-the sun disc Aton.)whom the gods had cursed. No true son of the
Black Land dare pronounce his name.
Pandion could not discover what this Pharaoh, who had reigned four
centuries earlier, had done and why he had built a new capital.
The newcomer unrolled his papyrus and the two Egyptians studied the
drawing on it to discover the whereabouts of a long building with the
columns at its entrance lying on the ground. The interior walls of this
building were faced with azure-blue stones with veins of gold in them.
Pandion and the other slaves were given the job of removing these thin
stone slabs that had been firmly cemented to the walls. The job took them
several days to complete and they spent the night there amidst the ruins,
food and water being brought to them from the neighbouring dwellings.
When they had finished their job Pandion, Kidogo and four other slaves
were ordered to search the ruins in any direction they liked and look for
any works of art that might have been left there and which could be taken as
gifts for Pharaoh's palace. The Negro and Pandion set out together, the
first time without escort and away from the keen eye of the overseer.
The two friends climbed on to the gate turret of some large building in
order to get a view of their surroundings. From the east sand crept up to
and into the ruins and stretched away in a desert of rolling dunes and piles
of stone as far as the eye could reach.
Pandion looked over the silent ruins and in his excitement grasped
Kidogo's arm tightly.
"Let's run, we won't be missed for a long time, nobody can see us," he
whispered.
The Negro's good-natured face spread in a smile.
"Don't you know what the desert is?" he asked in astonishment. "At this
hour tomorrow the soldiers of the search party would find our dead bodies
already dried up by the sun. They," Kidogo meant the Egyptians, "know what
they are doing. There is only one road to the east, it follows the
water-holes and they are guarded. In this place the desert holds us tighter
than any chains. . . ."
Pandion nodded his head gloomily-his momentary excitement had passed.
In silence the two friends left the turret and set out in different
directions, looking through holes in the walls and entering rooms through
their dark doorways.
Inside a small, well-preserved,, two-storied palace, where there were
remains of the wooden lattice-work on the windows, Kidogo had the good
fortune to find a small statue of an Egyptian girl carved from hard yellow
limestone. He called Pandion and together they examined the work of some
unknown master. The girl's pretty face was typically Egyptian, such as
Pandion already knew-the low forehead, narrow eyes slanting upwards towards
the temples, protruding cheek-bones and thick lips with dimples at the
corners of the mouth.
Kidogo took his find to the master of the workshops while Pandion
penetrated farther into the ruins. He wandered on, stepping mechanically
over wreckage and heaps of stones, taking no note of his direction, and soon
he found himself in the shade of a length of wall that was still standing.
Right in front of him he saw a tightly closed door leading to underground
premises. Pandion pressed on the bronze door handle, the rotten boards
collapsed under his weight and he entered a room whose only light came from
a narrow chink in the ceiling.
It was a small room built in a thick wall of excellently dressed stone.
Two light armchairs of ebony inlaid with ivory were covered with a layer of
dust. In one corner lay a half-rotten casket. Against the opposite wall a
grey stone statue stood on a block of rose-hued granite, a full-size female
figure, the lower part of which had been left unfinished.
Two lithe panthers of black stone, one on either side of the statue,
stood as though on guard. Pandion carefully brushed the dust from the statue
and stepped back in dumb admiration.
The skill of the craftsman had reproduced in stone the transparent
material that enveloped the girl's body. With her left hand she pressed a
lotus bloom firmly to her breast. Her thick hair, braided in a number of
fine plaits, framed her face in a heavy coiffure divided by a straight
parting and falling over her shoulders. The charming girl did not resemble
an Egyptian. Her face was rounder, her nose small and straight and she had a
high forehead and big eyes set wide apart.
Pandion glanced at the statue from one side and was amazed at the
strange and subtle mockery which the sculptor had given to the girl's face.
Never had he seen such an expression of verve and intellect in a statue; the
artists of Aigyptos loved majestic and indifferent immobility more than
anything else.
The girl was more like the women of Oeniadae or even more like the
beautiful inhabitants of the islands of his native sea.
The bright, intelligent face of the statue was far removed from the
sullen beauty of Egyptian works of art and was carved with such great skill
that Pandion once again felt the torture of nostalgia. The young Hellene
wrung his hands and tried to imagine the model from which the statue had
been carved, a girl that somehow seemed near to him, a girl that had found
her way to Aigyptos by unknown roads four centuries ago. Had she been a
captive like himself or had she come from some distant country of her own
free will?
A ray of sunlight, falling through the crack in the ceiling, cast a
dusty light on the statue. It seemed to Pandion that the expression on the
girl's face had changed- the eyes blazed, the lips trembled as though a
flutter of mysterious, hidden life had reached the stone surface of the
statue.
Yes, that was the way to carve a statue ... here was the master from
whom he could learn to depict living beauty ... from this master who had
long been dead!
Reverently Pandion laid careful fingers on the face of the statue,
feeling for the tiny and elusive H details that made the statue a living
thing.
For a long time he remained standing before the statue of the beautiful
maiden who smiled at him in mocking friendliness. It seemed to him that he
had found a new friend whose smile lightened the burden of the endless
succession of joyless days.
Unconsciously the youth's thoughts turned to Thessa, and her living
image rose before him again.
Pandion's eyes wandered over the ornament on the ceiling and walls
where stars, bunches of lotus flowers and curving lilies were intermingled
with bull's heads. Suddenly Pandion shuddered: the vision of Thessa
disappeared and before him, on the wall, stood a picture of captives tied
back to back, being dragged to the feet of Pharaoh. Pandion remembered that
it was late and that he must hurry back and take something with him to
justify his long absence. He took another look at the statue and realized
that he could not place it in the hands of the master sculptor. He regarded
such an act as tantamount to treachery, it would be like delivering the girl
into slavery for a second time. Looking round, he suddenly remembered the
casket he had seen in the corner. Pandion knelt down and removed from it
four faience drinking cups, shaped like lotus blossoms and covered with
bright blue enamel. That would be enough. Pandion took his last look at the
statue of the girl, trying to fix in his memory every detail of her face,
and with a deep sigh carried the four cups outside. He looked round to make
sure that he was not observed and hurriedly covered the entrance to the room
with big boulders and then filled all the spaces between them with rubble so
that it looked like part of the damaged wall. He wrapped the cups up
carefully in his loin-cloth, made an involuntary gesture of farewell in the
direction of the statue, safe in its asylum, and hurried off to join the
others. The shouts of the slaves showed him the direction, loudest amongst
them being the strong, resonant voice of Kidogo.
The royal sculptor met Pandion at first with threats but calmed down
the moment he saw the treasure Pandion had brought him.
The return journey took three days longer as the rowers had to fight
against the current of the river. Pandion told Kidogo about the statue and
the Negro approved his action, adding that the girl had probably come from
the Mashuashi, a people living on the northern edge of the Great Western
Desert.
Pandion tried to persuade Kidogo to flee, but his friend only shook his
head in reply, rejecting all the plans suggested by the Hellene.
During the seven days of the journey Pandion failed to convince his
friend but he, himself, was unable to remain inactive; it seemed that he
would not be able to hold out much longer and must inevitably perish. He
longed for his companions who had remained on the building jobs and in the
shehne. He felt that these men were the force that could bring liberation
and which gave him hopes for the future. Here there was no hope of
liberation and that made Pandion pant in helpless fury.
Two days after their return to the workshops the royal sculptor took
Pandion to the palace of the Chief Builder, where a festival was being
prepared. Pandion was ordered to fashion clay statuettes and from them make
moulds for the shaping of sweet biscuits.
When Pandion had finished his work he was told to remain at the palace
to carry home the palanquin of the royal sculptor when the feast was over.
Pandion did not pay any attention to the other slaves, men and women, that
filled the palace, but went off by himself in the garden.
It had grown dark, bright stars lit up the sky, but still the feast
went on. Sheaves of yellow light piercing the darkness of the garden from
the open windows illuminated the trunks of trees, the foliage and flowers of
the shrubs and were reflected in patches of glowing red from the mirror-like
surfaces of the ponds. The guests were assembled in a big hall on the
ground-floor decorated with pillars of polished cedar wood. From the hall
came sounds of music. For a long time Pandion had heard nothing in the way
of music with the exception of mournful and unknown songs, and he gradually
drew closer to the big, low window, hid himself in the bushes and watched
what was going on.
A heavy aroma of sweet oils came from the crowded room. The walls,
pillars and window-frames were hung with garlands of fresh flowers, mostly
lotus blossoms, Pandion noticed. Brightly-coloured jugs of wine, baskets and
bowls of fruit stood on low tables near the seats. The guests, excited with
the wine they had drunk and anoint-, ed with perfumed unguents, were crowded
along the walls, while in the space between the columns girls in long
garments were dancing. Their black hair, braided into numerous thin plaits,
swung about the shoulders of the dancers, wide bracelets of coloured beads
covered their wrists, and girdles"of similar design shone through the thin
material of their raiment. Pandion could not help noticing a certain
angularity in the bodies of the Egyptian dancing girls who differed very
greatly from the strong women of his own country. At one end of the room
young Egyptian girls played on a variety of musical instruments: two girls
played flutes, another played on a harp of many strings and still two others
extracted harsh rattling notes from long two-stringed instruments.
The dancing girls carried thin leaves of gleaming bronze in their hands
and from time to time interrupted the rhythm of the dance melody with
abrupt, ringing blows on them. Pandion's ear was unaccustomed to the abrupt
changes from high tones to low, to the poignantly moaning notes with a
constantly changing tempo. The dances ended and the tired dancing girls gave
up the floor to the singers. Pandion listened attentively, trying to
understand the words, and found that when the melody was slow and low in
tone he could understand the purport of the song.
The first song glorified a journey to the southern part of Quemt.
"There you will meet a pretty girl who will offer you the flowers of her
bosom," Pandion understood.
Another song exalted the military valour of the sons of Quemt with loud
shouts and expressions so tortuous they seemed meaningless to Pandion. He
left the window with feelings of irritation.
"The names of the brave will never die-" the last words of the song
drifted towards him as the singing came to an end and was followed by sounds
of laughter and bustle; Pandion again looked into the window.
Slaves had brought in a fair-skinned girl with closely cut, wavy hair
and pushed her into the middle of the room. She stood there confused and
afraid amidst flowers 'trodden underfoot by the dancers. A man came out of
the crowd and said a few angry words to the girl. Obediently she took the
ivory lute that was offered her and the fingers of her tiny hands ran over
the strings. Silence fell as the girl's low clear voice rang out through the
room. It was not the jerky, suddenly rising and falling melody of the
Egyptians but a song that flowed freely and sadly. At first the sounds fell
slowly, like the splashing of separate drops of water, then they merged into
regularly rising and falling waves, that rolled and whispered like the waves
of the sea and carried with them such unrestrained sorrow that Pandion stood
stock-still. He could hear the free, open sea rolling through the song and
in the incomprehensible sounds of that magic voice. The sea, unknown and
unloved here in Aigyptos, was so near and dear to Pandion that at first he
stood aghast as all that was hidden deep in his soul burst suddenly out.
That longing for freedom that Pandion knew so well was weeping and wailing
in the song. He put his fingers to his ears and clenched his teeth to keep
screaming and ran away to the far end of the garden. Throwing himself en to
the ground in the shadow of the trees, Pandion gave way to a fit of
irrepressible sobbing.
"Hi, Ekwesha, come here! Ekwesha!" shouted Pandion's master. The young
Hellene had not noticed that the feast was over.
Pharaoh's sculptor was very obviously drunk. Leaning on Pandion's arm
and supported on the other side by his own slave, born in bondage, the
Master of the Royal Workshops refused to enter his palanquin and expressed
the desire to walk home.
Halfway home, occasionally stumbling over irregularities in the road,
he began to praise Pandion, prophesying a great future for him. Pandion was
still under the impression created by the song and did not hear what his
master was saying. In this way they walked to the, brightly-coloured portico
of the Egyptian's house. His wife and two slave girls, bearing lamps,
appeared in the doorway. The royal sculptor stumbled up the steps and
slapped Pandion on the shoulder. The latter went down again as no slave from
the workshops was allowed to enter the house.
"Wait a minute, Ekwesha!" said the master gleefully, trying to bend his
face into the semblance of a cunning smile. "Give that to me!" He almost
snatched the lamp out of the hand of one of the slave girls and whispered
something to her. The girl disappeared into the darkness.
The Egyptian pushed Pandion through the door and led him into the
reception-room. On the left, between the windows, stood a beautiful vase
with a fine, dark red design. Pandion had seen such vases in Crete and once
more the youth's heart pained him.
"His Majesty, life, health, strength," the sculptor pronounced in
solemn tones, "has ordered me to make seven vases like the one brought from
the islands of your seas. ( Life, health, strength-these three words had
always to be added to any mention of Pharaoh.) Only we must change those
barbaric colours for the blue colour favoured in Tha-Quem. . . . If you earn
distinction in this work I'll mention your name in the Great House. . . .
And now. . . ." The master raised his voice and turned towards two dark
figures that were approaching them.
They were the slave girl who had left at his behest and another girl
wrapped in a long striped cloak.
"Come closer," ordered the Egyptian impatiently, lifting the lamp to
the face of the girl in the cloak.
Her big, bulging black eyes looked fearfully at Pandion, her puffed,
childish lips opened in a fluttering sigh. Pandion saw wavy locks protruding
from under the cloak, a delicate nose with nervously twitching nostrils-the
slave girl was undoubtedly of Asiatic origin, from one of the tribes in the
east.
"Look, Ekwesha," said the Egyptian, with an unsteady but strong
movement pulling the cloak off the girl. She gave a faint cry and covered
her face with her hands as she stood there stark naked.
"Take her as your wife." The royal sculptor pushed the girl towards
Pandion and she, trembling all over, pressed herself close to the young
Hellene.
Pandion moved slightly back and stroked the tangled hair of the young
captive, submitting to a mixed feeling of pity and tenderness for this
pretty, scared creature.
The royal sculptor smiled and snapped his fingers in approval.
"She will be your wife, Ekwesha, and you will have handsome children
that I can leave to my children as a legacy. . . ."
It was as though a steel spring had suddenly uncoiled inside Pandion.
The revolt that had long been seething within him and that had been further
excited by the song-he had heard that evening, reached its highest point. A
red haze stood before his eyes.
Pandion stepped away from the girl, looked round the room and raised
his hand. The Egyptian, growing immediately sober, ran into the house
calling loudly to his servants for help. Pandion did not even look at the
coward and with a laugh of disdain kicked the expensive Cretan vase so hard
that its earthenware fragments flew to the floor with a dull clatter.
The house was filled with cries and the sound of running feet. A few
minutes later Pandion lay at the feet of his master who bent over him, spat
on him, shouting curses and threats.
"The scoundrel deserves death. The broken vase is of greater value than
his contemptible life, but he can make many beautiful things ... and I don't
want to lose a good worker," said the sculptor to his wife an hour later.
"I'll spare his life and won't send him to prison because from there they'll
send him to the gold mines and he'll die. I'll send him back to the shehne,
let him think things over, and by the time of the next sowing I'll bring him
back. . . ."
And so Pandion, badly beaten but still unbowed, returned to the shehne
and, to his great joy, met his old friends, the Etruscans. The whole
building gang had been employed on watering the Gardens of Amon since they
had finished dismantling the temple.
Towards evening the next day the shehne door opened with its usual
creak to admit the smiling Kidogo whose arrival was greeted by the shouts of
the other slaves. The Negro's back was puffed and swollen from the blows of
a whip but his teeth shone as he smiled and there was a merry twinkle in his
eyes.
"I heard they'd sent you back here,'' he informed the astonished
Pandion, "and I began to stagger about the workshop knocking down and
breaking everything that came my way. They beat me and sent me here, which
is what I wanted," said Kidogo.
"But you wanted to become a sculptor, didn't you?" asked Pandion
mockingly.
The Negro waved a carefree hand and, rolling his eyes terrifyingly,
spat in the direction of the great capital city of Aigyptos.
IV. THE FIGHT FOR FREEDOM
T he stones, heated by the blazing sun, burned the arms and shoulders
of the slaves. The gentle breeze brought no coolness to them, but instead
aggravated their plight by covering them in the fine dust from the stones
that ate into their eyes.
Thirty slaves, already at the end of their strength, were pulling on
stiff ropes to raise on to the wall a heavy stone slab bearing a bas-relief
of some sort. The slab had to be placed in a prepared nest at a height of
some eight cubits from the ground. Four experienced and nimble slaves were
steadying the slab from below. Among them was Pandion who stood next to an
Egyptian, the only inhabitant of Aigyptos amongst the many nations in their
slave compound. This Egyptian, condemned to eternal slavery for some
unknown, awful crime he had committed, occupied the end cell in the
privileged south-eastern corner of the shehne. Two purple brands in the
shape of a wide cross covered his chest and back while on his cheek a red
snake was branded. Morose, never smiling, he did not talk to anybody and,
despite the horror of his own position, despised the foreign slaves in the
same way as his free fellow-countrymen did.
At the present moment he was not paying any attention to anybody and,
with his shaven head lowered, was pressing with his hands against the heavy
stone to prevent it from swaying.
Suddenly Pandion noticed that the strands of a rope holding the stone
were beginning to snap, and shouted to warn the others. Two of the slaves
jumped to one side but the Egyptian paid no attention to Pandion and could
not see what was going on above his head-he remained standing under the
heavy stone.
With a wide sweep of his right arm, Pandion gave the Egyptian a shove
in the chest that sent him flying clear of the danger spot. At that very
moment the rope snapped and the stone crashed down, grazing Pandion's hand
as it fell. A yellowish pallor spread over the Egyptian's face. The stone
struck against the foot of the wall and a big piece was broken off the
corner of the bas-relief.
The overseer came running towards Pandion with a shout of rage and
lashed at him with his whip. The square hippopotamus-hide lash, two fingers
thick, cut deeply into the small of Pandion's back. The pain was so great
that everything went misty before his eyes.
"You wastrel, why did you save that carrion?" howled the overseer,
slashing at Pandion a second time. "The stone would have remained whole if
it had fallen on a soft body. That carving is worth more than the lives of
hundreds of creatures like you," he added as the second blow struck home.
Pandion would have rushed at the overseer but he was seized by the
soldiers who hurried to the scene and brutally thrashed him.
That night Pandion lay face downwards in his cell. He was in a high
fever, the deep whip cuts on his back, shoulders and legs were inflamed.
Kidogo came crawling to him and brought him water to drink, from time to
time pouring water over his aching head.
A slight rustling sound came from outside the door, followed by a
whisper:
"Ekwesha, are you there?"
Pandion answered and felt somebody's hands laid on him in the darkness.
It was the Egyptian. He took a tiny jar out of his belt and spent a
long time rubbing something into the palms of his hands. Then he began to
pass his hands carefully over Pandion's wales, spreading some liquid unguent
with a pungent, unpleasant smell. The pain made the Hellene shudder but the
confident hands of the Egyptian continued their work. By the time the
Egyptian began to massage the legs, the pain in Pandion's back had died
away; a few minutes later Pandion dropped quietly off to sleep.
"What did you do to him?" whispered Kidogo who was quite invisible in
his corner.
After a short pause the Egyptian answered him:
"This is kiphi, it's the finest ointment, and the secret is known only
to our priesthood. My mother brought it here by paying a big bribe to a
soldier."
"You're a good fellow. Excuse me if I thought you were trash!"
exclaimed the Negro.
The Egyptian muttered something between his teeth and disappeared
silently into the darkness.
-From that day onwards the Egyptian made friends with the young Hellene
although he still ignored his companions. After that Pandion often heard a
rustling sound near his cell and if he was alone the lean, bony body of the
Egyptian would come crawling in. The lonely, embittered son of Tha-Quem was
outspoken and talkative when he was alone with the sympathetic Pandion, who
soon learned the Egyptian's story.
Yakhmos, the son of the moon, came from an old family of nedshes,
faithful servants of former Pharaohs who had lost their position and their
wealth with a change of dynasty. Yakhmos had had a good schooling and had
been employed as scribe by the Governor of the Province of the Hare. He
chanced to fall in love with the daughter of a builder who demanded that his
son-in-law be a man of means. Yakhmos lost his head for love of the girl,
determined to get the money, come what may, and turned to robbery of the
royal tombs as a means to speedy enrichment. His knowledge of the
hieroglyphs was a great advantage to him in the commission of a horrible
crime that was always cruelly punished. Yakhmos soon had large quantities of
gold in his hands but in the meantime the girl had been given in marriage to
an official in the far south.
Yakhmos tried to drown his sorrows in merry feasting and the purchase
of concubines, and the money soon melted away. The dark road to wealth was
already known to him and he again set out to do nefarious deeds, was
eventually caught, and brutally tortured and his companions were either
executed or died under torture. Yakhmos was sentenced to exile in the gold
mines. Every year a new party was sent there at the time of the floods and
to await his dispatch Yakhmos was put into a shehne since there was a
shortage of labour for the building of the new wall of the Temple of Ptah.
As Pandion listened with interest to Yakhmos' story he was amazed at
the valour of a man who in appearance was far from brave.
Yakhmos told of his adventures in the fearful underground labyrinths,
where death awaited the intruder at every step from traps cunningly designed
by the builders.
In the oldest tombs that lay deep below the huge pyramids the treasures
and the royal sarcophagi were protected by huge, thick slabs of stone that
closed the gangways. The later tombs were in a labyrinth of false corridors
that ended in deep wells with smooth walls. Huge blocks of stone fell from
above when the intruders tried to move the stones that protected the tombs,
heaps of sand shot down through wells from above and barred their way
forward. If the bold intruders tried to pass the sand and penetrated deeper
into the tombs, more earth showered down on them from the wells and buried
the robbers in a narrow passage between the sand-heaps and the newly fallen
earth. In the newer tombs stone jaws closed noiselessly in the darkness of
the narrow tunnels or a frame studded with sharp spears crashed down from
the columns immediately the intruder set his foot on a certain fatal stone
in the floor. Yakhmos knew the many horrors that had lain buried for
thousands of years, awaiting in silence their victim. He gained his
experience at the expense of many others who had perished in the performance
of their horrible profession. On many occasions the Egyptian had come across
the decaying remains of unknown people who had perished in the traps in the
distant past.
Yakhmos and his companions had spent many nights on the verge of the
Western Desert where the Cities of the Dead stretched for thousands of
cubits. Hiding in the darkness, not daring to speak or strike a light,
feeling their way to the howl of the jackals, the laughing of the hyenas and
the menacing roar of the lions, the plunderers dug their way through
stifling passages or cut through whole cliffs in an effort to find the
direction in which the deeply hidden tomb lay.
This was a horrible profession, fully worthy of a people who thought
more of death than of life, who strove to preserve for all eternity the
glory of the dead rather than living deeds.
Pandion listened in amazement and horror to the tales of adventure told
by this thin, insignificant man who had so often risked his life for the
sake of a few moments' pleasure, and could not understand him.
"Why did you continue living like that?" Pandion asked him one night.
"Why couldn't you go away?" The Egyptian smiled a silent, mirthless smile.
"The Land of Quemt is a strange land. You, a foreigner, cannot understand
her. We are all imprisoned here, not merely the slaves, but also the free
sons of the Black Land. Long, long ago, the deserts protected us. Today
Tha-Quem is squeezed in between the deserts-it is a big prison for all those
who are unable to make long journeys with a strong band of warriors.
'In the west is the desert-the kingdom of death. The desert in the east
is passable only to large caravans with a good supply of water. In the south
there are savage tribes hostile to us. All our neighbours burn with hatred
against our country whose well-being is founded on the misfortunes of weaker
peoples.
"You're not a son of Tha-Quem and can't understand how we fear to die
in a strange land. In this valley of the Hapi, everywhere alike, where our
ancestors have lived for thousands of years and tilled the soil, dug canals
and made fertile the land, we, too, must live and die. Tha-Quem is shut off
from the world and that lies like a curse upon us. When there are too many
people their lives are of no value-and there is nowhere for us to migrate
to, the people chosen by the gods are not loved by the peoples of foreign
lands. . . ."
"But would it not be better for you to flee now that you're a slave?"
asked Pandion.
"Alone and branded?" came the Egyptian's ejaculation of astonishment.
"I'm now worse than a foreigner. . . . Remember, Ekwesha, there's no
escaping from here! The only hope is to turn the whole of the Black Land
upside down by force. But who can do that? It's true there have been such
things in the days of long ago. . . ." Yakhmos sighed regretfully.
These last words aroused Pandion's curiosity and he began to question
Yakhmos; he learned about the great slave rebellions that had from time to
time shaken the whole country. He learned also that the slaves had been
joined by the poorer sections of the population whose lives differed little
from those of the slaves.
He learned, too, that the common people were forbidden to have any
contact with the slaves since "a poor man could infuriate the mob in the
slave compound"- such were the Pharaohs' injunctions to their sons.
The poorer sons of Quemt, the tillers of the soil and the craftsmen,
lived in the narrow world of their own street. They made as few
acquaintances as possible, they humbled themselves before the soldiers, the
"heralds" who brought them the commands of the officials. Pharaoh demanded
humility and drudging toil and for the slightest act of disobedience the
offender was mercilessly beaten. The huge body of officials was a tremendous
burden on the country, freedom to leave the country and travel was the
prerogative of the priests and nobility alone.
At Pandion's request Yakhmos drew a plan of the Land of Quemt in a
patch of moonlight on the floor. The young Hellene was horrified: he was in
the very middle of the valley of a great river thousands of stadia in
length. There were water and life to the north and south but to get there
through a densely populated land with countless military fortifications was
impossible. In the empty deserts on either side there was no population nor
was there any means of subsistence.
The few caravan roads along which there were wells were strongly
guarded.
After the Egyptian had left him, Pandion spent a sleepless night trying
to think out a plan of escape. Instinctively, the youth realized that hopes
of a successful escape would grow weaker as time went on and he grew more
and more exhausted from the unbearable slave labour. Only people possessing
extraordinary strength and endurance could expect fortune to smile on them
if they attempted escape.
The next night Pandion crawled to the cell of the Etruscan, Cavius,
told him all he had learned from the Egyptian and tried to persuade him to
make an attempt to arouse the slaves to rebellion. Cavius did not answer him
but sat stroking his beard, deep in thought. Pandion was well aware that
preparations for rebellion had long been under way and that the various
tribal groups had chosen their leaders.
"I can't stand it any longer, why should we wait?" exclaimed Pandion
passionately; Cavius hurriedly put his hand over his mouth. "Better death,"
added the Hellene, somewhat more calmly. "What is there to wait for? What
will change? If changes come in ten years time, then we shan't be able to
fight or flee. Are you afraid of death or what?"
Cavius raised his hand.
"I'm not afraid and you know it," he said brusquely, "but we have five
hundred lives dependent on us. Do you propose to sacrifice them? You'll get
your death at a high price."
Pandion struck his head against the low ceiling as he sat up suddenly
in his impatience.
"I'll think it over and talk to people," Cavius hastened to add, "but
still it's a pity there are only two other shehne near us and that we have
no access to them. We'll talk tomorrow night and I'll let you know. Tell
Kidogo to come. . . ."
Pandion left Cavius' cell, crawled hurriedly along the wall so as to
get there before the moon rose, and made for Yakhmos' cell. Yakhmos was
still awake.
"I went to see you," whispered the Egyptian in excited tones, "but you
weren't there. I wanted to tell. . ." he stammered. "I've been told that I'm
being taken away from here tomorrow; they are sending three hundred men to
the gold mines in the desert. That's how matters stand -nobody ever comes
back from there. . . ."
"Why?" asked Pandion.
"Slaves sent to work there rarely live more than a year. There's
nothing worse than the work down there amidst the sun-baked rocks, with no
air to breathe. They give them very little water as there isn't enough to go
round. The work consists of breaking hard stones and carrying the ore in
baskets. The strongest of the slaves drop exhausted at the end of the day's
work and blood runs from their ears and throats. . . . Farewell, Ekwesha,
you're a fine fellow although you did me a bad turn by saving my life. It's
not the rescue that I value but the sympathy you showed me. . . . Long, long
ago a life of bitterness made one of our bards compose a song in praise of
death. That song I repeat today.
" 'Death lies before me like convalescence before a sick man, like
relief from sickness,' " intoned the Egyptian in a whisper, " 'like sailing
before the wind in fine weather, like the perfume of the lotus, like a road
washed by the rain, like the return home after a campaign. . . .' " Yakhmos'
voice broke off in a groan.
Overcome by pity, the young Hellene drew nearer to the Egyptian.
"But you can take your own. . . ." Pandion stopped short.
Yakhmos staggered back from him. "What are you saying, foreigner. Do
you imagine I can allow my Ka to torment my Ba for all eternity in never
ending sufferings?..." ( Ka- the soul of the intellect. Ba-the corporeal
soul, the spirit of the body.)
Pandion understood nothing of what the Egyptian was saying. He
sincerely believed that suffering ends with death but did not say so out of
tolerance for the faith of the Egyptian.
Yakhmos pushed aside the straw on which he slept at night and began
digging in the corner of his cell.
"Here, take this dagger, if ever you dare ... and this will remind you
of me if a miracle happens and you gain your liberty." Yakhmos placed a
smooth, cold object in Pandion's hand.
"What's that? What do I want it for?" "It's a stone I found in the
underground rooms of an old temple hidden amongst the rocks."
Yakhmos, glad of an opportunity to forget the present in reminiscences
of the past, told Pandion of a mysterious old temple that he had come
across, during his search for rich tombs, at a bend in the Great River many
thousands of cubits below the "City," the capital, Waset.
Yakhmos had noticed traces of an old path that led to steep cliffs from
the shore of a small cove densely overgrown with rushes. The place was far
from any village and was never visited by anybody since there was nothing to
interest the farmer or the shepherd in those barren, rocky cliffs.
There was no danger in continuing his search and Yakhmos immediately
plunged into a narrow canyon strewn with huge boulders. The boulders covered
the path and had apparently fallen after it had ceased to serve as a means
of communication with the river-bank. For a long time Yakhmos roamed amongst
the rocks, hollows washed out by water, and thorn bushes. The canyon was
swarming with spiders and their webs, stretching across the path, clung to
the perspiring face of the plunderer of royal tombs.
At last the canyon widened to form an enclosed valley amidst the high
hills. In the middle there was a small eminence surrounded by double rows of
irrigation ditches -apparently there had formerly been a spring there that
was used to water the gardens. Silence reigned in the gloom of that
stifling, windless valley around which gleaming black cliffs rose in a solid
wall. At the far end there was another narrow canyon similar to that by
which Yakhmos had entered a place forgotten by all.
The tomb robber climbed up a hill and from there noticed an entry cut
in the cliffside that had been hidden before by the eminence. The entry was
blocked by fallen stones and Yakhmos had to work for a long time before he
could get inside. At last he found himself in the cool darkness of a cave.
After he had rested a little, he lit the lamp that he always carried with
him and made his way along a high corridor, carefully examining the statues
on either side, afraid of cunning traps that threatened him with a
tormenting death. His fears, however, were unfounded: either the old-time
builders had not prepared any traps, relying on the remoteness of the temple
to keep it from the eyes of strangers, or the thousands of years that had
elapsed had rendered the traps ineffective. Without any hindrance Yakhmos
entered a big, round underground chamber in the centre of which was a statue
of the god Thoth, his long beak stretching down from the height of his
pedestal. In the walls Yakhmos found ten narrow slits of doorways, arranged
at equal distances round the chamber. They led to rooms filled with
half-rotted objects: scrolls, papyri and wooden tablets covered with
drawings and inscriptions. One of the rooms was filled with dried grasses
that turned to dust the moment he touched them; in another lay a pile of
stones. In this way Yakhmos inspected eight of the rooms, all of them
square, without finding anything that interested him. The ninth doorway lea
Yakhmos into a long room surrounded by granite columns. Between the columns
were slabs of black diabase covered with writing in the ancient language of
Tha-Quem. In the middle of this room stood another statue of the
long-beaked, ibis-headed god Thoth; in a flat bronze bowl on the pedestal of
the idol lay a precious stone that glittered in the light of the lamp.
Yakhmos seized it avariciously, brought it close to the light-and could not
restrain an exclamation of disappointment. The stone was not of those that
were valued in Tha-Quem. The experienced eye of the tomb robber immediately
told him that the stone would be of no value to the merchants. The strange
thing was, however, that the more he looked at the stone, the more it
pleased him. It was a blue-green fragment of crystal about the size of a
spearhead, flat, polished and unusually transparent. Yakhmos grew interested
and resolved to read the writing on the walls hoping to find an explanation
of the stone's origin. He still had not forgotten the ancient language of
Tha-Quem that he had learned in the school for chief scribes, and set about
deciphering hieroglyphs that were in a splendid state of preservation on the
hard diabase. There was little air in the underground chamber, the
ventilation channels had long since collapsed, the lamp began to burn low,
but still Yakhmos read stubbornly on. Gradually the story of a great deed of
valour, performed shortly after the building of the Great Pyramid of Cheops,
was unfolded before this professional tomb robber. Pharaoh Jedephra
(Jedephra-a Pharaoh of the IV Dynasty (2877-2869 B.C.). sent his treasurer
Baurjed on an expedition far to the south, to Tha-Nuter, the Land of
Spirits, to discover the bounds of the earth and of the Great Arc, the
ocean. Baurjed left from the harbour of Suu, on the Blue Waters, ( Blue
Waters-the Red Sea. Suu-the modern El-Qoseir.) on seven of the biggest
ships. For seven years the sons of the Black Land were absent. Half of the
men and four of the ships were lost in terrible storms on the Great Arc, but
the others sailed on and on to the south, along unknown coasts, until they
eventually reached the fabulous Land of Punt. Pharaoh's orders, however,
drove them still farther south. They had to find the end of the earth. The
sons of the Black Land left their ships and continued their way south
overland.
For more than two years they continued their journey through dark
forests, crossed gigantic plains and high mountains-the home of the
lightning-and, by the time their strength was almost exhausted, reached a
big river on which lived a powerful people, builders of stone temples. Here
they discovered that the end of the earth was still immeasurably
distant-far, far away to the south, across plains of blue grass and through
forests of silver-leaved trees. It was there, beyond the ends of the earth,
that the Great Arc flowed, the ocean, whose bounds were known to no man. The
travellers, realizing that they were helpless to carry out Pharaoh's orders
to the letter, returned to the Land of Punt and built and equipped a new
ship in place of their old ones, worm-eaten and battered by storms on the
Great Arc. There were scarcely enough survivors to man one ship. The bold
adventurers, however, loaded the vessel with gifts from Punt and set out on
their unbelievably difficult journey. The urge to return to their native
land lent them strength-they conquered wind and waves, sandstorms and
submerged rocks, hunger and thirst and returned to the harbour of Sun in the
Blue Waters seven years after their departure.
Much had changed in the Black Land: the new Pharaoh, the ruthless
Khafre, made the country forget everything except the building of a second
gigantic pyramid that was to exalt his name for thousands of years. The
return of the travellers was quite unexpected and Pharaoh was disappointed
to learn that the earth and the ocean were immeasurable and that the peoples
inhabiting the regions to the south were numerous and strong. Baurjed showed
Pharaoh, who considered himself the ruler of the world, that the Land of
Quemt was nothing but a tiny corner of a huge world, abounding in forests
and rivers, fruits and animals, and inhabited by numerous peoples skilled in
all manner of work and hunting.
The wrath of Pharaoh descended upon the travellers and Baurjed's
companions were exiled to distant provinces." It was forbidden, on pain of
death, to make any mention of the journey; passages in the writings left by
Jedephra where the dispatch of the expedition southwards to the Land of
Spirits was mentioned, were all expunged. Baurjed himself would have been a
victim of the wrath of Pharaoh and all memory of his journey would have
disappeared for all time, had it not been for a wise old priest of Thoth,
the god of learning, art and writing. This was the priest who had inspired
the dead Pharaoh to investigate the bounds of the earth and seek new sources
of wealth for a country that had become impoverished by the building of a
huge pyramid. He was forced to leave the court of the new Pharaoh by the
priests of Ra ( Ra-the sun god, chief deity of the Egyptians in the Pyramid
period.) and helped the traveller by offering him asylum in a hidden Temple
of Thoth where secret books, plans and samples of stones and plants from
distant lands were stored. On the orders of the priest, Baurjed's great
journey was recorded on stone slabs so that it might be preserved in an
unapproachable underground chamber until such times as the country stood in
need of that knowledge. Baurjed brought a blue-green transparent stone,
unknown to the people of Tha-Quem, from the most distant land he reached
beyond the great southern river. Such stones were obtained in the Land of
the Blue Plains, three months journey south of the great river. Baurjed
offered this symbol of the extreme ends of the earth to the god Thoth-this
was the stone Yakhmos had taken from the pedestal of the statue.
Yakhmos was unable to read the story of the journey to the end. He had
just come to a description of the wonderful submarine gardens seen by the
travellers in the Blue Waters when the lamp went out and the plunderer had
the greatest difficulty in getting out of the underground chamber, taking
with him only the unusual stone.
In the light of day the crystal from the distant land seemed even more
beautiful; Yakhmos would not part with the stone but it did not bring him
good luck.
Pandion had a great journey to his native land ahead of him and Yakhmos
hoped that the stone with which Baurjed had returned from an unheard of
distance would help the Hellene, too.
"Didn't you know anything about that journey before?" asked Pandion.
"No, it has remained hidden from the sons of Quemt," answered Yakhmos.
"Punt has long been known to us, the ships of Quemt have made many journeys
there at various times, but the lands farther south still remain, for us,
the mysterious Land of the Spirits."
"Can it be possible that there have been no other attempts to reach
those countries? Could not somebody else have read those inscriptions, as
you did, and have told others about them?"
Yakhmos thought for a while, he did not know how to answer the
foreigner.
"The princes of the south, the governors of the southern provinces of
Tha-Quem, have often penetrated into the interior of the southern countries,
but they only wrote about their spoils, about the ivory, gold and fish they
brought to Pharaoh, so the road remains unknown. And then, nobody has tried
to sail farther south than Punt. It is too dangerous-there are no such brave
people today as there were in ancient times."
"But why hasn't anybody read those inscriptions?" insisted Pandion.
"I don't know, I can't answer that question," admitted the Egyptian.
Yakhmos, of course, could not know that the priests, whom the people
believed to be great scholars, the holders of ancient secrets, had long
since ceased to be any such thing. Learning had degenerated into religious
ceremony and magic formulas, the papyri that contained the wisdom of past
ages were rotting away in the tombs. The temples were deserted and in ruins,
nobody was interested in the history of the country as told by countless
inscriptions on hard stone. Yakhmos could not know that such is the
inevitable fate of all science that alienates itself from the invigorating
strength of the people and becomes the property of a narrow circle of the
initiated. . . .
Dawn was drawing nigh. With a feeling of despondency Pandion bade
farewell to the unfortunate Egyptian to whom no hope of salvation was left.
The young Hellene wanted to take the dagger and leave the stone to
Yakhmos.
"Can't you understand that I need nothing any more?" said the Egyptian.
"Why do you want to throw away such a beautiful stone in this foul hole of a
shehne?"
Pandion took the dagger between his teeth, grasped the stone in his
hand and, crawling in the shadows, reached his own cell in safety.
Until daylight broke he lay sleepless. His cheeks burned and shudders
ran over his whole body. He lay thinking of the great change that was to
enter his life, of the imminent end of the monotonous stream of weary days
of sorrow and despair.
The hole that formed the entrance to his cell turned grey and the
pitiful objects that constituted his entire possessions gradually emerged
from the darkness. Pandion held the dagger in the morning light. The broad
blade of black bronze ( Black bronze-a specially hard alloy of copper and
one of the' rare metals. The metallurgists of antiquity were able to obtain
alloys of exceptional hardness by adding zinc, cadmium and other metals to
the bronze. ) with a high rib down the middle was sharpened to a fine edge.
The massive hilt was carved in the form of a lioness, the savage goddess
Sekhrnet. Using the dagger, Pandion dug a hole under the wall and was hiding
the Egyptian's gift in it, when suddenly he remembered the stone. Fumbling
in the straw he found it and took it to the light to examine it more
thoroughly.
The flat fragment of crystal with rounded edges was about the size of a
spearhead. It was hard, extremely clear and transparent and its colour
seemed to be a greyish blue in the darkness that precedes the dawn.
As Pandion laid the stone on the palm of his hand the rays of the
rising sun suddenly struck it. The stone was transformed-it lay on Pandion's
hand in all its brilliance, its blue-green colour" was unexpectedly joyous,
bright and deep, with a warm tinge of transparent, golden wine. The
mirror-like surface of the stone had apparently been polished by the hand of
man.
The colouring of the stone reminded Pandion of something that was very
familiar to him, its reflection brought warmth to the youth's heavy heart.
Thalassa! The sea. It was exactly that colour, far from the shore, at the
time when the sun hung high in the blue heavens. Natura'e, the divine stone,
is what the unfortunate Yakhmos had called it!
The miraculous sparkle of the crystal on the morning of a joyless day
was a good omen to Pandion.
Yakhmos' farewell gifts were magnificent-a dagger and a stone of
unknown properties. Pandion believed that the stone portended his return to
the sea, to the sea that would not betray him, that would bring him back to
liberty and his native land. The young Hellene peered intently into the
stone out of whose transparent depths rolled the waves of his native shores.
. . .
The menacing roll of the big drum thundered over the cells-this was the
signal arousing the slaves for their day's work.
Pandion made a momentary decision-he would not part with that unusual
stone, he would not leave that symbol of the free sea in the dusty earth of
the shehne. Let the stone remain with him always.
After a few futile attempts he eventually found a way to hide the stone
in his loin-cloth and, although he lost no time in burying the dagger, was
almost late for the morning meal.
On the journey and during their work in the gardens Pandion watched
Cavius carefully and noticed that the latter was constantly exchanging short
phrases first with one and then with another of the shehne leaders known to
Pandion. These immediately went away from the Etruscan and talked to their
followers.
Pandion chose a safe moment and drew near Cavius. The Etruscan did not
raise his head from the stone he was dressing but spoke softly and quickly,
without even taking breath.
"Tonight, before the moon rises, in the end gallery of the northern
wall. . . ."
Pandion returned to his work. On the way back to the shehne he passed
Cavius' message on to Kidogo.
Pandion spent the evening in anticipation-for a long time he had not
been in such high spirits and so well prepared to fight.
As soon as the compound had quietened down and the sentries on the wall
were dozing, Kidogo appeared in the darkness of Pandion's cell.
The two friends crawled quickly to the wall and turned into the narrow
corridor between the cells. They reached the north wall where the shadows in
the corridor were deepest of all. The sentries rarely walked along this
wall, they could observe the compound more easily from the western and
eastern walls, looking along the corridors between the cells. There was,
therefore, no danger that the sentries above would hear their whispered
conversation.
No less than sixty slaves lay in two rows in the corridor, their feet
pressed against the walls and their heads together. Cavius and Remdus were
in the middle. The elder Etruscan called Pandion and Kidogo to him in a
whisper.
Feeling for the Etruscan's hand, Pandion passed to him the dagger he
had brought with him. Cavius felt the cold metal in some perplexity, cut his
hand on the sharp blade and then avidly gripped the weapon, whispering his
thanks.
The experienced old soldier had yearned for weapons and the dagger
brought joy to his heart. He also realized that by handing the precious
dagger over to him the Hellene recognized his seniority and had, without
words, elected him the leader.
He did not stop to ask Pandion where he had got the-dagger, but began
to talk in whispers, making long pauses so that those near him could pass
his words on to their more distant comrades who were out of hearing.
The conference of the leaders had begun-the question of the life and
liberty of five hundred slaves, imprisoned in the shehne, was to be decided.
Cavius said that the rebellion could not be put off any H longer, that
there was no hope in the future, the situation would only get worse if the
slaves were again broken up into groups and sent in different directions.
"The strength that is our only guarantee of success in struggle is
being undermined by the heavy drudgery required by our taskmasters; every
month in captivity means loss of health and vitality. Death in battle is
honourable and joyful; it is a thousand times easier to die in battle than
to die under the blows of a whip."
A unanimous whisper of approval passed along the rows of invisible
listeners.
"We must not delay the revolt," continued Cavius, "but there is one
condition that must be fulfilled: we must find a way out of this accursed
country. Even if we are joined by two or three other shehne, even if we are
able to get weapons, our forces will still be small and we shall not be able
to hold out for long. Ever since the Great Revolt of the slaves the rulers
of Quemt have done everything possible to keep the slaves divided in
separate compounds, we have no contact with the others and we shall not be
able to arouse a large number of people simultaneously. We are right in the
capital, where there are many soldiers, and we shall not be able to fight
our way through the country. The archers of Aigyptos are a te-rri-ble force;
we shall not have many bows, and not everybody will be able to use them. Let
us think whether we can make our way through the desert to the east or the
west. We may find ourselves in the desert shortly after leaving the shehne.
If we are unable to cross the desert, then I think we must drop the idea of
a revolt-it will be a useless waste of effort and a tormenting death. Then
let only those of us flee that are prepared to make the attempt to pass
through certain death with a faint hope of liberty. I, for example, will
make the attempt."
Excited whispers filled the air around the now silent Etruscan.
His words, passed from end to end of the rows of slaves, had at first
aroused militant ardour in the listeners, but now doubt was spreading
amongst those bold leaders. His words took away all hope of a successful
outcome; they removed even the ghost of a chance, so that the bravest of the
warriors wavered. Whispers in many languages carried down the coal-black
tunnel of the corridor.
An Amu, a Semite from the land beyond the Blue Waters, crawled to the
centre of the group where the four friends lay. Men of the Amu tribe
constituted a large proportion of the inhabitants of the shehne.
"I insist on a revolt. Let death be our lot but we shall be revenged on
the accursed people of this accursed land! We will be an example to be
followed by others! Too long has Quemt been living in peace, the brutal art
of oppression has robbed millions of slaves of the will to fight. We will
light the flames of revolt."
"It's good that you think like that, you're a brave man," Cavius
interrupted him. "But what will you say to those whom you will lead?"
"I will say the same to them," answered the Semite fervently.
"Are you sure they'll follow you?" whispered the Etruscan. "The truth
is too painful... and lies are useless under such circumstances-the people
will easily sense the truth. To them the truth is that which each carries in
his own heart."
The Semite did not answer him. In the meantime the lean, lithe body of
the Libyan Akhmi squeezed through the rows of recumbent men. Pandion knew
that this young slave, captured during a battle at the Horns of the Earth,
came from a noble family. He assured them that near the tombs of the most
ancient kings of Quemt, near the cities of Tinis and Abydos, a road led to
the southwest as far as Wahet-Wer, a big oasis in the desert. It was a road
with good wells, plenty of water and was not guarded by troops. They had to
plunge into the desert immediately behind the temple Zesher-Zesheru, turn
southwest and cross the road at a point a hundred and twenty thousand cubits
from the river. The Libyan undertook to lead them to the road and farther.
There were but few troops at the oasis and the insurgents could easily seize
it. The next stage was a mere twenty-five thousand cubits across the desert
to the next oasis, Pasht, that stretched westward in a long, narrow strip.
Farther still they would find the Oasis of Mut, whence a route with wells
led to the hills of the Dead Serpent; from this latter place there was a
road leading southwards to the Land of the Blacks, which the Libyan did not
know.
"I know that road," Kidogo put in. "I travelled that road in the first
year of my captivity."
"There's a good supply of dates at the oases and we can rest there.
There are no fortifications at any of them and we can take pack animals with
us; with their help we can get as far as the Dead Serpent and from then on,
beyond the Salt Lake, there's more water."
The Libyan's plan was generally approved. It seemed quite possible of
fulfilment.
The ever-cautious Cavius, however, asked the Libyan more questions.
"Are you certain that there are wells at a distance of a hundred and
twenty thousand cubits from the river? It's a long journey to make."
"It may be a little more," answered the Libyan calmly. "A strong man
can make that journey without water under one condition-we must start no
later than -midnight and march without a halt. You can't live more than
twenty-four hours without water in the desert, nor can you march in the
afternoon."
One of the Asians, a Heriusha, proposed attacking the fortress on the
road to the harbour of Suu, but, despite the fact that this plan was very
attractive to the slaves, most of whom were Asians, and to the Amu, it was
dropped since it was agreed that it would be impossible to fight their way
to the east.
The Libyan's plan was more promising although there was disagreement
between the Negroes and the Asians: the road to the south-west took the
Asians still farther from their native land, but it was advantageous to the
Negroes and the Libyans. The Libyans hoped to travel northwards from the
Oasis of Mut and reach that part of their country that was not under the
rule of the Egyptians. Pandion and the Etruscans intended going with the
Libyans.
They were all pacified by an elderly Nubian who said he knew a road to
the south that by-passed the fortresses of the Black Land and went through
the plains of Nubia to the Blue Waters.
The narrow crescent of the moon rose above the terraced hills of the
desert and still the insurgent slaves continued to plan their flight. They
were now discussing the details of the revolt and gave a task to each group
under a specific leader.
The revolt was timed to begin on the night after the next, immediately
it became completely dark.
Sixty men crawled silently back to various parts of the compound while
above them, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, stood the sentries, little
suspecting what was going on below them and full of contempt for those who
slept in the dark hole beneath their feet.
Cautiously and unnoticed, the plans for the revolt continued all next
day and night and all through the second day. The leaders, for fear of
traitors, spoke only to those with whom they were well acquainted, expecting
that the others would join the general mass of the insurgents once the
sentries had been removed.
The night of the revolt came. Groups of people assembled in the
darkness, one for each of the three walls- the northern, western and
southern. On the eastern side, two groups gathered under the inner wall.
The movement of the men had been carried out so speedily that by the
time Cavius struck an upturned water jug with a stone, giving the signal for
attack, they had already formed living pyramids. The bodies of seventy men
formed a slope against the vertical wall. There were five such living
bridges over which men, intoxicated with the coming battle, swarmed from all
sides.
Cavius, Pandion, Remdus and Kidogo were amongst the first to mount the
inner wall. The Hellene, without pausing to think, leaped down into the
darkness and was followed by dozens of others.
Pandion knocked down a soldier who appeared from the guard-house,
jumped on his back and twisted his neck. The Egyptian's back-bone cracked
softly and his body went limp in Pandion's hands. All round him, in the
darkness, the slaves hunted and seized their hated enemies. In their fury
men attacked armed soldiers with their bare hands. Before any of the
soldiers could defend himself against an attacker from the front, others
jumped on him from the sides and from behind; unarmed, but strong in their
wrathful fury, the slaves dug their teeth into the hands that held weapons
and stuck their fingers into the soldiers' eyes. Weapons, weapons at any
cost^-this was the one idea of the attackers. Those who succeeded in seizing
a dagger or spear were still more furious in their attacks, feeling
death-dealing strength in their hands. Pandion struck right and left with
the sword he had taken from a dead enemy. Kidogo fought with a huge pole
used for carrying water.
Cavius mounted the living bridge and threw himself at four soldiers on
guard over the inner door. The astounded Egyptians put up a poor resistance
as they were literally crushed by the avalanche of silent men that fell en
them from above.
With a shout of triumph Cavius pushed open the heavy bolt on the doors
and soon the crowd of liberated slaves occupied the entire area between the
walls, broke into the house of Commandant of the shehne and killed the
soldiers resting there after the guard had been changed.
On the walls above the struggle was even more desperate. The nine
sentries on the wall had noticed the attacking slaves in good time. Arrows
whistled through the air and the silence of the night was broken by the
moans of the wounded and the thud of bodies falling from above.
Nine Egyptians, however, could not long resist a hundred of infuriated
slaves, who flew directly on to the spears of the soldiers and rolled down
from the wall together with them.
In the meantime the soldiers and officials had been dealt with in the
narrow confines between the two walls: the keys of the outer gates had been
found on the dead Commandant and the screech of the rusty hinges as the
gates opened was like a cry of victory in the night.
Spears, shields, daggers, bows-everything was taken from the soldiers,
clown to the last arrow. The armed slaves headed the crowd of runaways and
all of them, in deep silence, made their way to the river.
Every boat, barge or raft they could get hold of was used to begin the
river crossing. Several men perished in the river, falling victims to the
huge crocodiles that guarded the waters of Tha-Quem,
Before two hours had elapsed the vanguard of the column reached a
shehne situated on the other bank of the river on the road to
Zesher-Zesheru.
Cavius, Pandion and two Libyans went openly to the gates and knocked
while about a hundred other slaves pressed close against the wall near the
gates,
A soldier shouted down from the wall, asking them what they wanted. A
Libyan who spoke the language of Tha-Quem fluently demanded the Commandant
of the shehne, saying that he had a letter from the Director of Royal Works.
Several voices were heard behind the door; a torch was lighted, and the door
opened, showing them a courtyard between two walls similar to that they had
just left. The Captain of the Guard stepped forward from a group of soldiers
and demanded the letter.
Cavius rushed at him with a howl of fury and plunged Yakhmos' dagger
into his breast while Pandion and the Libyans rushed at the other soldiers.
The other armed slaves, who were standing prepared for action, took
advantage of the confusion and burst into the shehne with terrifying cries.
The torches went out and the darkness was filled with suppressed groans,
howls and martial shouts. Pandion made short work of two opponents and
opened the inner door. The call to revolt resounded throughout the shehne,
now awakened by the noise of battle, as slaves darted here and there calling
to their astounded fellow-countrymen in their native language. The compound
hummed like a beehive; the howls grew in volume until they merged into a
deep roar. The soldiers on the walls dashed back and forth, afraid to
descend; they shouted threats at the slaves and from time to time let fly
arrows at random. The fight in the corridor between the walls died down;
well-aimed arrows flew from the courtyard at the clearly visible soldiers on
the walls and the second shehne was liberated.
The crowd of liberated slaves, puzzled and inebriated by their sudden
liberty, streamed through the doors and spread in all directions, paying no
attention to the shouts of their liberators. In a short time savage howls
came from the direction of the houses and fires broke out in several places.
Cavius advised the other leaders to assemble those of their shehne
companions who were already acquainted with discipline. The Etruscan stood
deep in thought, running his fingers through his beard; in his eyes, turned
westwards in the direction to be followed, there was a red glint-the
reflection of the fires.
Cavius was thinking that they had most probably made a mistake in
liberating the slaves from the second shehne without any preparatory work
amongst them. His own followers were already familiar with the conception of
a common purposeful struggle and it was possible that more harm than good
would come of joining them to a mass of people who were unprepared, who
acted as individuals and were intoxicated by the possibility of vengeance
and liberty.
Such proved to be the case. A large number of the slaves from the first
shehne were also attracted by the idea of plunder and destruction. Apart
from that, time had been lost, every minute of which was of the utmost
importance. The smaller column moved on towards the third shehne situated
some eight thousand cubits from the second, in the immediate vicinity of the
Temple of Zesher-Zesheru.
There was no time to change the plan of the revolt and Cavius foresaw
very great difficulties. And as they approached the shehne the Etruscan
noticed the silhouettes of soldiers drawn up on the walls and heard shouts
of "A'atu, a'atu!" (insurgents) followed by the whistle of the arrows with
which the Egyptians greeted the approaching column from a long distance.
The insurgents halted to discuss a plan of attack. The shehne, prepared
for defence, was a good fortress, and its capture would occupy considerable
time. The insurgents raised a tremendous noise to awaken the slaves in the
shehne and encourage them to attack the guards on the wall from within.
Cavius, who was already hoarse, shouted at the top of his voice to the
other leaders, trying to persuade them to abandon the attack. They would not
agree; the easily obtained victory had given them confidence, and it seemed
to them that it would be possible to liberate all the slaves in Quemt and
conquer the country.
Suddenly the Libyan, Akhmi, let out a penetrating howl and hundreds of
heads turned in his direction. The Libyan waved his arms, pointing in the
direction of the river. From the high bank that rose steeply towards the
cliffs, the river that washed the numerous landing places of the capital
could be seen over a long distance. Everywhere the lights of torches flared
up, merging into a dully flickering line; flickering points of light
appeared in the middle of the river and were gathering in two places on the
bank on the side of the insurgents.
There could be no doubt-large detachments of soldiers were crossing the
river, hurrying to surround the place where there were fires and where the
escaped slaves were concentrated.
And here the insurgents were still dashing from place to place seeking
a means of attacking the shehne; some of them had tried to approach the
enemy by following the bed of an irrigation canal, others were expending
valuable arrows.
A glance cast over the indefinite outlines of the dark mass of people
told Cavius that there were not more than three hundred men in the column
capable of giving battle; of these less than a half had knives or spears,
while only about thirty bows had been captured.
But a short time would elapse before hundreds of 'the terrible archers
of the Black Land would send clouds of long arrows into them from a great
distance and thousands of well-trained troops would draw a tight ring around
slaves who had only just tasted liberty.
Akhmi, his eyes flashing in anger, shouted that it was already past
midnight and that if they did not start immediately it would be too late.
It cost the Akhmi, Cavius and Pandion many precious minutes to explain
to the crowd, inflamed and eager for battle, the uselessness of any attempt
to stand up against the troops of the capital. The leaders insisted on an
immediate march into the desert and, in case of necessity, were prepared to
start out themselves, leaving behind those who were distracted by the search
for weapons, by plunder and revenge. A number of slaves who did not agree
left the column and set off along the river towards the rich estate of some
aristocrat whence came loud noises and the light of torches. The remainder,
a little more than two hundred men, agreed to go.
Soon the long dark column, winding like a snake through a narrow canyon
between steep cliffs still hot from the daytime sun, made their way to the
level edge of the valley. The runaways were confronted with an endless plain
of sand and stones. Pandion looked back for the last time at the huge river
gleaming faintly below them. How many days of sorrow, despair, hope and
wrath he had spent beside that calmly flowing waterway! Joy and infinite
gratitude to his trusty comrades filled the heart of the young Hellene. In
triumph he turned his back on the land of slavery and increased his already
fast pace.
The band of insurgents had marched some twenty thousand cubits from the
rim of the valley when the Libyan halted the column. Behind them, in the
east, the sky had begun to grow light.
The contours of the rounded sand-dunes, some of them as much as a
hundred and fifty cubits high, stretching far away to the vague, scarcely
visible line of the horizon, were but faintly perceptible in the dull leaden
light of early morning. At the hour of dawn the desert was silent, the air
was motionless, the jackals and hyenas had ceased their howls.
"You've been hurrying us all the time, why do you linger now? What do
you want?" impatient slaves in the back rows asked the Libyan.
He explained that the most difficult part of the journey was about to
begin-endless ridges of sand-dunes, one after the other, each ridge higher
than the last until they reached a height of three hundred cubits. The
slaves were reformed into a column two deep and were told that they would
have to keep going without halt, without dropping back, paying no attention
to fatigue; those who fell behind would never reach their destination. The
Libyan would go ahead and seek a path between the dunes.
It turned out that hardly anybody had found an opportunity to drink
before leaving and many of them were already tormented by thirst after the
heat of battle. Not everybody had a mantle, cloth or even rags with which to
cover his head and shoulders from the sun, but there was nothing they could
do about it.
Strung out in a column two hundred cubits long, the slaves moved on in
silence, their eyes fixed on their feet dragging through the soft sand. The
leading files zigzagged right and left winding their way through the dunes
to avoid slopes of shifting sand.
A wide purple strip glowed in the sky to the east.
The crescent-shaped and sharply serrated ridges of the sand-hills
turned to gold. In the sunlight the desert appeared before Pandion's eyes
like a sea with high frozen waves whose smooth slopes reflected an
orange-yellow light. The excitement of the night gradually died down and the
men grew calmer. Liberty, the expanse of the desert, the gold of the distant
dawn-all served to revive men weary of captivity. Joy filled their hearts in
place of malice and fear, sorrow and despair.
The morning light grew brighter and the sky seemed to recede into its
bottomless blue depths. As the sun rose higher its rays at first gave them
friendly warmth but soon began to burn and sear them. The slow, dragging,
toilsome path through the labyrinth of deep gullies between high sand-hills
became more and more difficult. The shadows of the hills grew shorter; it
became painful to walk over the burning hot sand, but the men went on, never
stopping, never looking back. Ahead of them lay endless ridges of
sand-hills, all exactly the same, that cut off all view of their
surroundings.
As time went on the air, sunlight and sand merged into one huge sea of
flame, that blinded, asphyxiated and burned like molten metal.
The journey was especially difficult for those who came from the
northern countries like Pandion and the two Etruscans.
Pandion felt that his head was squeezed in an iron band, the blood
throbbing furiously at the temples, causing him great pain.
He was almost blinded; before his eyes floated patches and stripes of
the most astoundingly brilliant colours that flowed and whirled, changing
their combinations in wonderful kaleidoscopic patterns. The unbearable
strength of the sun turned the sand into golden dust permeated with light.
Pandion was in a delirium, hallucinations grew out of his maddened
brain. The colossal statues of Aigyptos moved through flashes of crimson
fire and sank into the waves of a purple sea. Then the sea fell back and
packs of strange creatures, half-beast and half-bird, flew down from the
steep cliffs at amazing speed. And once more the granite Pharaohs of the
Black Land formed into battle order and advanced towards Pandion.
Staggering on, he rubbed his eyes and slapped his cheeks in an effort
to see what was really there-the heat-breathing slopes of the sand-dunes
that piled one on the other in the blinding, grey-gold light. But again the
whirling vortices of coloured fire appeared and Pandion was lost in a heavy
delirium. Nothing but the fervent desire for freedom could have made him
keep moving in step with Kidogo, leaving thousands of sand-dunes behind.
Fresh chains of hills confronted the runaways and between them were huge,
smooth-sided craters at the bottom of which could be seen coal-black patches
of soil.
The hoarse imploring moans that passed along the column grew more and
more frequent; here and there exhausted men dropped to their knees or fell
face down in the scorching sand, begging their comrades to put an end to
their suffering.
The others turned morosely away from them and continued their way until
the pleas died away behind them and beyond sand-hills so soft in their
configuration. Sand, burning hot sand; monstrous quantities of sand,
stretching to infinity; silent and evil sand that seemed to have drowned the
whole universe in its stifling, treacherous flames.
Ahead of them a patch of silver in the golden fire of the sun's rays
appeared in the distance. The Libyan gave a brief shout of encouragement.
Clearer and clearer, against the brownish background, appeared patches of
ground covered with salt crystals that shone with an intolerably brilliant
blue gleam.
The sand-dunes grew smaller and soon gave way to hard, well-packed
sand; the feet of the marchers moved more freely, liberated from the cloying
embrace of the friable sand. The hard yellow clay, furrowed with dark
cracks, seemed to them like the stone-paved path of some palace garden.
The sun was still a hand's breadth from the zenith when the insurgent
slaves reached a low, cliff-like ledge of stratified brown stone and from
there turned sharply to the left, to the south-west. In a short re-entrant,
that bit into the cliff at a wide angle so that from a distance it looked
like the black entrance to a cave, was an ancient well, a spring with cool,
fresh water.
In order to prevent disorder amongst people already mad with thirst,
Cavius placed the strongest of the slaves to guard the entrance to the
gully. The weakest were allowed to drink first.
The sun had long passed the zenith and the men kept on drinking as
though they would never stop; they lay for a while in the shade of the cliff
with distended bellies and then crawled 'back to the water again. The
runaways gradually regained their vitality and soon the rapid speech of the
hardy Negroes could be heard accompanied by occasional laughter and jocular
altercation. . . . No joy, however, came to the men with returning life-too
many of their faithful comrades had remained behind to die in the labyrinth
of sand-dunes, comrades who had only just entered the path to freedom, who
had fought bravely, with contempt for 'death, comrades whose efforts had
merged in the supreme common effort with those who had been spared.
Pandion was astonished at the change that had taken place in those
slaves with whom he had spent such a long time in the shehne. That dull
indifference to their surroundings that gave the same expression to all
their tired, worn-out faces, was gone.
Eyes that had been dull and listless were now looking round them full
of life and interest and the features of the sombre faces seemed to be more
sharply defined. They were already people and not slaves and Pandion
remembered how right Cavius had been in his wisdom when he reproached
Pandion with contempt for his companions. Pandion had had too little
experience of life to be able to understand people. He had the mistaken view
that the inhibition born of long captivity was natural in them.
The men crowded on to the small patches of life-giving shade in the
gully. In a short time they were all overcome by deep sleep; there was no
fear of the pursuit overtaking them on that day-who but people prepared to
face death for the sake of liberty could pass through the fiery hell of that
sea of sand in daytime?
The runaways rested until sunset by which time their tired feet were
again ready for the journey. The small quantity of food that the strongest
had managed to carry through the desert was carefully shared out amongst ail
of them.
There was a long journey to be made to the next well; the Libyan said
that they would have to keep on all night, but that at dawn, -before the day
grew hot, they would find water. After that the road again lay through
sand-hills, the last between them and the big oasis. Fortunately the stretch
of sand-hills was not of great width, no more than that they had already
passed, and if they set out in the evening, when the sun was in the
south-west, they would reach the big oasis during the night and find food
there. They would only have to go twenty-four hours without, food.
All this did not seem so very terrible to people who had suffered so
much. The chief thing that encouraged them and gave them strength was the
fact that they were free and were moving farther and farther away from the
hated Land of Quemt, that the possibility of their being overtaken was
diminishing.
The sunset died away, grey ash covered its flaming red embers. Drinking
their fill for the last time the runaways moved on.
The depressing heat had gone, scattered by the black wings of night,
and the darkness tenderly caressed skin that had been burned by the flames
of the desert.
Their way lay across a low, level plateau covered with sharp-edged
stones that cut the feet of the less cautious.
By midnight the runaways dropped down into a wide valley sprinkled with
grey, round boulders. These strange stones, between one and three cubits in
diameter, lay about like stone balls with which some unknown gods had been
playing. The men were no longer in a column but walked on without any
formation, cutting diagonally across the valley towards a rise that could be
seen some distance in front of them.
After a terrible stupefying day that had shown the weakness of man with
such ruthlessness, the quiet calm of the night gave rise to profound
meditation. It seemed to Pandion that the endless desert rose up to the bowl
of the sky, the stars seemed quite near in the transparent air, permeated
with a kind of glow. The moon rose and a silver carpet of light lay on the
dark earth.
The party of runaway slaves reached the rise. The gentle slope
consisted of blocks of limestone, polished by the fine sand until they shone
and reflected the light of the moon in what looked like a blue glass
staircase.
When Pandion set foot on their cold, slippery surface it seemed to him
that he had only to go a little higher and he would reach the dark blue bowl
of the sky.
The rise came to an end, the staircase vanished and the long descent
began into the dark valley, covered with coarse sand, that lay black below
them. The valley was encircled with a chain of serrated crags that jutted
out of the sand at all angles, like the stumps of gigantic tree-trunks. By
dawn the party had reached the cliff and for a long time wandered through a
labyrinth of crevasses until their Libyan leader found the well. From the
cliff could be seen the serried ranks of a new army of sand-dunes that
formed a hostile ring around the rocks amongst which the runaways had taken
refuge. Shadows of deep violet lay between the rosy slopes of the sand
hills. While they were close to water there was nothing terrible about the
sea of sand.
Kidogo found a place protected from the sun by a huge stone cube that
hung over walls of sandstone cut away on the northern side by a deep, dry
watercourse. There was sufficient shade for the whole party between the
rocks and they lay down to rest until sunset.
The tired men immediately dropped off to sleep-there was nothing to do
but wait until the sun, raging in the high heavens, became more amenable.
The sky that had seemed so close to them during the night had now receded to
an unfathomable distance and from that great height blinded and burned the
men as though in revenge for the breathing space given them during the hours
of darkness. Time went on, the peacefully sleeping people were surrounded by
a sea of fiery sunlight that cut them off from their native lands where the
sun did not destroy all living things.
Cavius was suddenly awakened by faint, plaintive groans. The puzzled
Etruscan raised his heavy head and listened. From time to time he heard
sharp cracks coming from different directions and then long drawn-out
plaintive moans filled with sorrow. The sounds grew louder and he looked
round him in fear. There was no sign of movement anywhere amongst the
sun-baked rocks; all his comrades occupied their former places and were
either sleeping or listening. Cavius roused the calmly sleeping Akhmi. The
Libyan sat up, yawned and then laughed right in the face of the astounded
and alarmed Etruscan.
"The stones are crying out from the heat of the sun," explained the
Libyan, "and that's a sign that the heat is subsiding."
The cracking of the stones greatly disturbed the other runaway slaves.
The Libyan climbed on to a high rock, looked through the crack between his
folded hands and announced that soon they could set out on the last march to
the oasis; they must drink their fill for the march.
Although the sun had sunk far to the west, the sand hills still
radiated heat. It seemed an impossible feat to leave the shade and go out
into that sea of fire and sunlight. Nevertheless the men formed a column,
two by two, and without a single protest followed the Libyan- so strong was
the call of freedom.
Pandion and Kidogo formed the third pair behind the Libyan, Akhmi.
The inexhaustible endurance and joviality of the Negro were a frequent
encouragement to the Hellene who felt little confidence in himself when
confronted with the might of the desert.
The fiery, hostile breath of the desert again forced the men to bow
their heads low before its savage face. They had journeyed no less than
fifteen thousand cubits when Pandion noticed that their Libyan guide seemed
somewhat distressed. Akhmi had halted the column twice while he mounted a
sand-hill, sinking up to his knees in the soft sand, to examine the horizon.
The Libyan, however, did not answer any questions.
The sand-hills grew lower and Pandion asked Akhmi in a glad voice
whether the sand was coming to an end.
"We've still a long way to go; there's a lot more sand yet," snapped
the guide gloomily and turned his head towards the north-west.
Pandion and Kidogo looked in the same direction and saw that the
burning sky was covered with a leaden haze. A dark wall that rose straight
up had conquered the fearful might of the sun and the glow of the sky.
Suddenly they heard resonant, pleasant sounds-high, singing, purely
metallic notes, like silver trumpets playing an enchanting melody behind the
sand-dunes.
The sounds were repeated, grew more frequent and louder and hearts beat
more rapidly, affected by some unconscious fear brought by those silver
notes that were like nothing on earth and far removed from all that was
mortal.
The Libyan stopped and fell on to his knees with a plaintive cry.
Raising his hands towards the heavens he prayed to his gods to protect them
from an awful calamity. The frightened runaways cowered together in a crowd
between three sand-hills. Pandion looked inquiringly at Kidogo and staggered
back-the Negro's black skin had turned grey. Pandion had seen his friend
frightened for the first time and did not know that a Negro's skin turns
grey with pallor. Cavius seized the guide by the shoulders, lifted him to
his feet without an effort and asked him angrily what had happened.
Akhmi turned towards him, his face distorted with fear and covered with
beads of perspiration.
"The sands of the desert are singing; they call to the wind, and with
the wind death will come flying-there will be a sand-storm. . . ."
An oppressive silence hung over the party broken only by the sounds of
the singing sand.
Cavius stood still in bewilderment-he did not know what to do and those
who realized the degree of danger that threatened them kept silent.
At last Akhmi came to himself.
"Forward, forward, as quickly as possible! I saw a stony place where
there's no sand: we must get there before the storm reaches us. If we stay
here death is certain, we'll all be buried in the sand, but over there,
maybe some of us will be saved. . . ."
The frightened men ran after the Libyan guide.
The leaden haze had changed to a ruddy gloom that spread over the whole
sky. Menacing wisps of sand whirled round the hill-tops like smoke; the hot
breath of the wind swept tiny particles of sand into the men's inflamed
faces. There was no air to breathe; it was as though the atmosphere were
filled with some corrosive poison. The sand-hills opened out and the
runaways found themselves on a small patch of stony ground, black and
smooth. All round them the rumble and roar of the oncoming wind increased in
fury, the ruddy cloud darkened on its lower side as though a black curtain
were being drawn across the sky. Its upper side remained a dark red and the
disc of the sun was hidden by that awful cloud. Imitating their more
experienced comrades the men tore off their loin-cloths and rags that
covered their heads and shoulders, wrapped them round their faces and
dropped on to the stony ground, pressing close against each other.
Pandion was slow in making his preparations. The last thing he saw
filled him with horror. Everything around him was in motion. Stones as big
as his fist rolled over the black ground like dry leaves in an autumn wind.
The sand-hills threw out long tentacles in the direction of the party; the
sand was moving and was soon flowing all round them like water thrown up by
a storm on to a low beach. A whirling mass of sand rushed at Pandion; the
youth fell face down and saw nothing more. His heart beat furiously and its
every beat resounded in his head. His mouth and throat seemed to be coated
with a hard crust that prevented his panting breath from escaping.
The whistling of the wind reached a high note but that, too, was
drowned by the roar of the moving sand; the desert howled and rumbled around
him. Pandion's head went dizzy, he struggled against unconsciousness towards
which the stifling, withering storm was driving him. Coughing desperately,
he freed his throat of sand and again began his rapid breathing. Pandion's
bursts of resistance were repeated at ever-growing intervals until at last
he lost consciousness.
The thunder of the storm grew ever more insistent and menacing, it
rumbled in peals across the desert like huge bronze wheels. The stony ground
gave forth an answering rumble like a sheet of metal, and clouds of sand
swept over it. Grains of sand, charged with electricity, burst into blue
sparks giving the whole mass of moving sand a bluish glow as it rolled over
the desert. It seemed that at any moment rain would fall and fresh water
would save the people, dried up by the overheated air and lying unconscious.
But there was no rain and the storm raged on. The dark pile of human bodies
was covered by an ever-thickening layer of sand that hid the weak movement
and stifled the rare moans. . . .
Pandion opened his eyes and saw Kidogo's black head outlined against
the stars. Later Pandion learned that the Negro had been working over the
motionless bodies of his friends, Pandion and the Etruscans, for a long
time.
People were busy in the darkness, digging out their comrades from under
the sand, listening to the feeble signs of life in their bodies and laying
aside those who would breathe no more.
The Libyan, Akhmi, with some of his fellow-countrymen, who were
accustomed to the desert, and a few Negroes had gone back to the well
amongst the rocks for water. Kidogo had remained with Pandion, unable to
leave his friend who was scarcely breathing.
At last fifty-five half-dead men, led by Kidogo, finding the road with
difficulty and supporting each other as they walked along, followed in the
tracks of those who had left earlier. Nobody gave a thought to the fact that
they ware going back, that they would meet with a possible pursuit; the mind
of every one of them was concentrated on one thing-water. The craving for
water swept aside all will to struggle; it was stronger than any other urge-
water was a lodestone in the dull fever of their inflamed brains.
Pandion had lost all conception of time; he had forgotten that they had
journeyed not more than twenty thousand cubits from the well; he had
forgotten everything except that he must hold on to the shoulders of the man
in front and keep step with those plodding ahead. About halfway to the well
they heard voices in front of them that sounded unusually loud: Akhmi and
the twenty-seven men who had gone with him were hurrying to meet them,
carrying rags steeped in water and two old gourd bottles they had found at
the well.
The men mustered strength enough to refuse the water and propose to
Akhmi that he go back to those who had remained at the scene of the
catastrophe.
Superhuman efforts were needed to keep going as far as the well; their
strength grew less with every step, nevertheless the men allowed the
water-carriers to pass in silence and continued to plod on.
A wavering black haze spread before the eyes of the stumbling people;
some of them fell, but encouraged by the others and supported by their
stronger comrades they continued on their way. The fifty-five men could not
remember the last hour of their journey-they walked on almost unconsciously,
their legs continuing their slow, stumbling movements. But reach their goal
they did; the water revived them, refreshed their bodies and enabled their
congealed blood to soften their dried muscles.
No sooner had the travellers fully recovered than they remembered those
left behind. Following the example of the first party they went back,
carrying rags, dripping with water-the source of life-to those wandering in
the desert. This help was invaluable because it came in time. The sun had
risen. The last group of those still alive was given strength by the water
brought by the Libyans. The people had halted amidst the sand-dunes and
could not muster strength enough to continue their way despite all
persuasion, urging and even threats. The wet rags enabled them to keep going
for another hour which proved sufficient to reach the well.
In this way another thirty-one men reached the water; altogether a
hundred and fourteen were saved, less than half the number that had set out
into the desert two days before. The weakest had perished during the first
day's desert march arid now the awful catastrophe had taken toll of the best
and strongest fighters. The future seemed more indefinite than before. The
forced inactivity was depressing; there was no strength left to continue the
planned journey; weapons had been abandoned in the place where the
sand-storm had overtaken them. If the insurgents had had food they could
have recuperated much more easily, but the last remnants had been
distributed the night before and there was nothing left.
The sun was blazing in the clear unclouded sky and those who had
remained at the scene of the catastrophe, even if there had been a faint
flicker of life in them, had by now, no doubt, perished.
The survivors hid in the gully between the rocks where the day before
they had lain together with those who were no longer amongst the living. As
on the previous day the people awaited sundown, but although the heat of the
day had died down and night had already fallen, they still waited, hoping
that the cool night air would enable the weaker men to continue their
struggle with the desert that stood between them and their native land.
This last hope, however, was fated never to be fulfilled.
As night drew on the runaways felt that they could continue their way
slowly forward and were about to set. out when suddenly they heard the
distant braying of an ass and the barking of dogs. For a time they hoped it
might be a merchant caravan or the party of a tax-collector, but soon,
however, horsemen appeared in the semi-darkness of the plain. The well-known
cry of "A'atu!" resounded over the desert. There was nowhere to flee to,
they had no weapons to fight with and hiding was useless-the sharp-eared
dogs would soon find them. Some of the insurgents sank to the ground, their
last ounce of strength gone; others dashed about aimlessly amongst the
rocks. Some of them tore their hair in desperation. One of the Libyans,
still a young man, groaned plaintively and tears filled his eyes. The Amu
and the Heriusha stood with bowed heads and clenched teeth. Several of the
men began involuntarily to run away but were immediately halted by the dogs.
The more self-restrained stood still where they were, as though in a
trance, their minds, however, actively seeking ways of salvation. The
soldiers of the Black Land were fortunate in their chase-they had caught up
with the runaways at a moment when they were very weak. If they had retained
but half of their former energy many of them would have preferred death to a
second captivity. Their vitality, however, had been sapped and the runaways
did not offer any resistance to the soldiers approaching with drawn bows.
The struggle for freedom was over-those who slept their eternal sleep amidst
the abandoned weapons were a thousand times more fortunate than the
survivors.
Worn out, all hope of liberty gone, the slaves became submissive and
indifferent to their fate.
Very soon the hundred and fourteen men, their hands bound behind their
backs and chained together by their necks in parties of ten, straggled back
across the desert to the east under the blows of whips. A few of the
soldiers visited the scene of the catastrophe to make sure there were none
left alive there.
The pursuers expected a reward for every slave they brought back-only
this saved the runaways from a horrible death. Not one of them died on the
awful journey back when they dragged along tied together, lashed by whips
and without food. The caravan moved slowly, keeping to the road and avoiding
the sands.
Pandion dragged along, never daring to look at his companions, and
unreceptive to outside impressions. Even the blows of the whip could not
arouse him from his state of torpor. The only thing he remembered of the
journey back to slavery was the moment when they reached the Nile, near the
city of Abydos. The Captain of the escort halted the party to examine the
wharf where a barge should have awaited the captives. The prisoners were
huddled together on the crest of the descent into the valley, some of them
sank to the ground. The morning breeze brought with it the smell of fresh
water.
Pandion, who had remained on his feet, suddenly noticed pretty,
delicately blue flowers on the very edge of the desert. They swayed on their
long stems spreading a fine aroma all around and Pandion felt that this was
a last gift sent to him from his lost liberty.
The young Hellene's lips, cracked and bleeding, quivered and uncertain
weak sounds escaped his throat. Kidogo, who had been watching his friend
with some alarm during halts-he was chained to a different group during the
march-turned to listen.
"... Blue." He heard only the last word and Pandion again sank into a
coma.
The runaways were freed of their bonds and driven on to the barge that
was to take them to the suburbs of the capital. Here they were kept in
prison as particularly dangerous and persistent rebels and would inevitably
be sent to the gold mines.
The prison was a huge hole dug in hard, dry ground, faced with brick
and roofed by a number of steep vaults. Four narrow slits cut in the roof
served as windows and the entrance was a sloping trap-door in the roof
through which food and water were lowered.
The constant gloom of the prison proved a mercy to the runaways: many
of them had inflamed eyes caused by the terribly harsh light of the desert,
and had they remained in the sunlight they would undoubtedly have lost their
sight.
But how tormenting was their captivity in a dark, stinking hole after a
few days of liberty!
The captives were completely cut off from the world and nobody cared
what they felt or experienced.
Despite the hopelessness of their position, however, they again began
to hope for something as soon as they had begun to recover from the effects
of their awful journey.
Cavius, somewhat brusquely as usual, again began to outline ideas that
all could understand. Kidogo's laughter was heard again as were the piercing
cries of the Libyan Akhmi. Pandion recovered more slowly, the collapse of
his hopes had made a deeper impression on him.
Many times he had felt the stone hidden in his loincloth but it seemed
like sacrilege to him to take out Yakhmos' wonderful gift in that foul, dark
hole. The stone, moreover, had deceived him, it possessed no magic; it had
not helped him obtain his liberty and reach the sea.
At last, however, Pandion did take the blue-green crystal out of its
hiding place and carry it stealthily to the pale ray that shone through the
slit in the roof but did not reach the ground. With the first glance he cast
at the joyous iridescence of the stone the desire to live and fight returned
to him. He had been deprived of everything; he did not even dare to think of
Thessa; he did not dare to evoke memories of his native shores. All that was
left to him was the stone-the stone that was like a dream of the sea, of
another life, the real life he had known in the past. And Pandion began to
gaze frequently at the stone, finding in its transparent depths that joy
without which it would have been impossible to live.
Pandion and his companions did not spend more than ten days in their
underground prison. Without any sort of interrogation or trial the fate of
the runaway slaves was decided by the authorities up there in the world
above. The trap-door opened suddenly and a wooden ladder was lowered into
the prison. The slaves were led out and, blinded by the glaring sun, were
immediately bound and chained together in groups of six. They were then led
down to the Nile and loaded on to a big barge sailing upstream. The rebels
were being sent to the southern frontiers of the Black Land, to the Gates of
the South, from where they would begin that last journey from which there
was no return-to the terrible gold mines of the Land of Nub. (* Gates of the
South-the towns of Neb and Swan, the modern Syene and Aswan, on the islands
of Elephantine and Philae.
Nub (Egypt, gold)-the collective name for all the lands along the Nile
south of the First Cataract; later Nubia).
A fortnight after the runaway slaves had exchanged their underground
prison for a floating gaol, at a distance of five hundred thousand cubits
upstream to the south of the capital of Tha-Quem, the following scene was
enacted in the luxurious palace of the Prince of the South on the Island of
Neb.
The Prince of the South and Governor of the Province of Neb, the cruel
and imperious Kabuefta, who considered himself second only to Pharaoh in the
Black Land, had summoned to his presence the Commander of the Host, the Lord
of the Hunt and the Chief Caravan Leader of the South.
Kabuefta received his guests on the balcony of his palace where an
abundant feast was spread; his Chief Scribe was also present. Kabuefta, a
big muscular man, seated, in imitation of Pharaoh, on a high throne of ebony
and ivory, towered arrogantly above his companions.
He noticed the inquiring glances, which the assembled officials
exchanged, and smiled to himself.
The palace stood on the highest part of the island and the view from
the balcony embraced the wide sleeves of the river sweeping round a group of
temples built of white limestone and-red granite. Along the banks were dense
growths of tall palms whose dark feathery foliage stretched along the foot
of the steep, rocky cliff of the river-bank. A vertical granite wall
bordering a high plateau shut off the southern view; the First Cataract of
the Nile was situated at the eastern point of this plateau. At this point
the valley of the river suddenly narrowed and the expanse of calm,
well-tilled fields was broken off abruptly by the immeasurably great
expanses of the deserts of Nub, the land of gold. From terraces on the
cliffside the tombs of past Princes of the South looked down upon the
palace-these were the graves of bold explorers of the countries inhabited by
the black people, beginning with the great Herkhuf who had led caravans into
the southern countries at the time of the 6th Dynasty. ( 2625-2475 B.C.)
An experienced desert traveller could discern the regular lines of
hieroglyphs of a tremendously long inscription that from that distance had
the appearance of the cuneiform inscriptions of the Asian countries. The
ruler of the south, however, had no need to read the inscriptions. He knew
by heart the proud words of Hemu relating his journey to the Land of Punt
(Puoni): "In the eighth year ... the keeper of the seal, the keeper of all
that is and is not, the curator of the temples, granaries and the white
house, the keeper of the Gates of the South.. ."- ( Retranslated from
Golenishchev's Russian version of the Egyptian original.) all these titles
belonged to Kabuefta as much as to his legendary ancestor.
The distance was lost in the greyish haze caused by the heat, but it
was cool on the island-a north wind struggled against the heat encroaching
from the south, driving it back to the wilderness of sunburnt plains.
The Prince of the South gazed long at the tombs of his ancestors and
then with a gesture ordered a waiting slave to fill the glasses for the last
time. The feast was over; the guests rose and followed their host into the
inner rooms of the palace. They entered a square, not very high room,
beautifully decorated in the style of the great days of Tuthmosis III. (
Pharaoh Tuthmosis III (1501-1447 B.C.)-statesman and soldier who added to
Egyptian conquests.) The smooth white walls were decorated at the bottom
with a broad light blue border, containing an intricate straight-line design
composed of white lines, while a narrow strip of wall around the ceiling
bore a pattern of lotus flowers and symbolic figures, carried out in blue,
green, black and white tones on a background of dull gold.
The ceiling was divided by four wooden beams of a deep cherry colour
and surrounded by a checkered border in black and gold. The spaces between
the beams were painted in bright colours-gold spirals and white rosettes on
a checker-board background in red and blue.
The wide door-posts of polished cedar-wood were bordered with narrow
black stripes broken by numerous pairs of blue lines drawn across them.
A carpet, a few folding chairs of ivory covered in leopard skin, two
armchairs of. gold-inlaid ebony, a few chests on legs which also served as
tables, constituted the entire furniture of the big, bright and airy room.
Without undue haste Kabuefta took his seat in one of the armchairs and
his clear-cut profile stood out sharply against the white wall. The
officials pulled their chairs closer to him and the Chief Scribe stood by a
tall table of ebony inlaid with gold and ivory.
On the polished surface of the table lay a scroll of papyrus with a red
and white seal. At a sign from the Prince of the South the Scribe unrolled
the papyrus and stood for a moment in respectful silence.
The Commander of the Host, a gaunt, bald-headed man without a wig,
winked at the little, stubby Caravan Leader, giving him to understand that
the talk for which they had been summoned would now begin.
Sure enough Kabuefta inclined his head and spoke to the assembled
officials.
"His Majesty, the Ruler of the Upper and Lower Black Lands, life,
health, strength, has sent me an express letter. In it His Majesty commands
me to do something unheard of-to bring to the City a beast with a horned
nose such as inhabits the land beyond Wawat;* these animals are
distinguished for their monstrous strength and ferocity. In the past many
beasts from the southern lands have been brought alive to the Great House.
The people of the City and the people of Tha-Meri-Heb have seen huge apes,
giraffes, the beasts-of Seth** and the groundhogs; savage lions and leopards
accompanied Ramses the Great*** and even fought against the enemies of
Tha-Quem, but never has a rhinoceros been caught alive.
(* Wawat--the stretch of the Nile between modern Aswan and Khartoum.
** Beasts of Seth-okapi, an animal from the same group as the giraffe.
They are now found only in the dense jungles of the Congo but were formerly
widespread throughout Africa, being very numerous in the Nile Delta. The
figure of the dread Seth, god of darkness, is modelled after this animal.
*** Ramses II (1229-1225 B.C.), the great conqueror. Tame lions fought
on the side of the Egyptians against the Hittites.)
"From time immemorial the Princes of the South have provided the Black
Land with everything needed from the lands of the black people; nothing has
ever been impossible for them to perform. I wish to continue this glorious
tradition: Tha-Quem must see a live rhinoceros. I have summoned you that we
may take counsel on the easiest way to bring at least one of these terrible
monsters to Tha-Quem. What do you say, Nehzi, who have seen so many glorious
hunts?" he asked, turning to. the Lord of the Hunt, a morose, obese
individual whose wavy hair, dark skin and humped nose betrayed in him a
descendant of the Hyksos.
"The beast of the southern plains is indescribably fierce; his skin is
impervious to our spears, his strength is that of the elephant," began Nehzi
importantly. "He attacks first, smashing and crushing everything that stands
in his way. He is not to be caught in a pit: the heavy animal would most
certainly be injured. If we arrange a big hunt and seek a female with her
young we might kill the mother, capture the babe and take it to Quemt. . .
." Kabuefta struck angrily on the arm of his chair. "Seven times seven will
I fall to the feet of the Great House, my ruler. Fie on you," the finger of
the Prince of the South prodded the dumbfounded Lord of the Hunt, "who dares
to sin against His Majesty. Not a hall-dead babe must we bring him, but a
great beast, nefer-neferu, the best of the best, an animal in the prime of
life, capable of inspiring fear in full measure. Nor can we wait until a cub
grows to maturity in captivity. . . . The royal command must be fulfilled
with all haste especially as the animal lives far from the Gates of the
South."
Peheni, the Caravan Leader, suggested sending some three hundred of the
bravest soldiers without arms but with ropes and nets to capture the
monster.
The Commander of the Host, Senofri, scowled at this and Kabuefta
frowned at him.
Then the Caravan Leader hastened to add that it would not be necessary
to send soldiers but that it would be better to force the Nubians themselves
to capture the beast.
Kabuefta shook his head, twisting his mouth into a derisive smile.
"The days of Tuthmosis and Ramses are long past-the. despised
inhabitants of the Land of Nub are no longer bowed in submission. Senofri
knows with what efforts and cunning we are able to curb the lust of their
hungry mouths. . . . No, that will not do, we must capture the animal
ourselves. . . ."
"And if, instead of soldiers, we were to sacrifice slaves," suggested
Senofri with caution.
The worried Kabuefta was suddenly aroused.
"I swear by Ma'at, the all-seeing goddess of truth, that you're right,
O wise commander! I'll take rebels and runaways from the prisons, these are
the boldest of the slaves. They shall capture the monster."
The Lord of the Hunt smiled an unbelieving smile.
"You are wise, O Prince of the South, but, might I make bold to ask,
how are you going to compel the slaves to face certain, death from this
fierce monster? Threats will not help, you can only threaten them with death
instead of death. What difference will it make to them?"
"You understand animals better than you do men, Nehzi, so leave the men
to me. I shall promise them liberty. Those who have already faced death for
the sake of liberty will be willing to do EO again. That's exactly why I
shall take only rebellious slaves."
"And will you fulfil your promise?" asked Nehzi again.
Kabuefta stuck out his lower lip haughtily.
"The majesty of the Prince of the South does not permit him to sink so
low as to lie to slaves, but they will not return. Leave that to me. You
would do better to tell me how many men you'll need to capture the animal
and how far it is to the places where it is to be found."
"We'll need no less than two hundred men. The animal will crush a half
of them and the remainder will overcome him by their numbers and tie him up.
Two months from now begins the season of floods and the grass of the plains
will spring up. At that time the animals will come north for the grass and
we shall then be able to seek them close to the river near the Sixth
Cataract. The most important thing is to capture the animal in the vicinity
of the river, since the men will not be able to carry a live animal that
weighs as much as seven bulls. Once on the river, we can take it by water in
a big cage as far as the City. . . ."
The Prince of the South was thinking deeply, making calculations, and
his lips quivered.
"Het!" he said at last. "So let it be. A hundred and fifty slaves will
be enough if they fight well. A hundred soldiers, twenty hunters and guides.
. . . You will take command of the whole party, Nehzi! Get busy making your
arrangements at once. Senofri will select reliable soldiers and peaceful
Negroes." (* Peaceful Negroes-the name given by the Egyptians to Negroes who
served in the army and police.)
The Lord of the Hunt bowed.
The officials left the chamber, making merry over Nehzi's new
appointment.
Kabuefta seated the Scribe and began to dictate a letter to the
governors of the prisons of the two towns at the Gates of the South, Neb and
Swan.
At the foot of a staircase, leading down from a hill at the southern
end of the Island of Neb, stood a crowd of slaves chained to huge bronze
rings hanging from the granite pillars that rose above the lower terrace.
All the hundred and fourteen survivors of the flight were there and another
forty Negroes and Nubians with savage faces and bodies criss-crossed with
the scars of old wounds. The crowd languished long in the blazing sun
waiting to learn their fate.
At last a man in white raiment, with the glitter of gold on his
forehead, breast and on his black staff, appeared on the upper landing of
the staircase. He walked slowly in the shade of two fans, carried by Nubian
soldiers. Several other men, important officials, judging by their clothes,
surrounded the Prince. This was Kabuefta, the Prince of the South.
The soldiers quickly drew a cordon around the slaves; a prison scribe,
who accompanied the captives, stepped forward and prostrated himself before
the Prince.
Kabuefta, calmly, never changing the expression on his immobile face,
came down the stairs and advanced right up to the slaves. He cast a rapid,
contemptuous glance over all those present. Turning to one of the officials
he said something in careless tones, although there was a slight note of
approval in his voice. The Prince of the South struck the ground with his
staff, its bronze ferrule rang sharply on the stone pavement.
"All of you look at me and listen! Let those who do not understand the
language of Quemt be led aside; they will get an explanation later."
The soldiers hurriedly obeyed the order, taking away fifteen Negroes
who did not understand the language.
Kabuefta spoke loudly and slowly, in the language of the people,
carefully selecting his words. It was obvious that the Prince of the South
frequently had occasion to speak to foreigners.
The Prince explained to the slaves-the matter in hand; he did not try
to hide the fact that it meant death for many of them, but he promised
liberty to the survivors. The majority of the captives expressed their
agreement in exclamations of approval, the remainder kept a sullen silence,
but nobody refused.
"Het!" continued Kabuefta, "so let it be." Again his glance swept over
the lean and dirty bodies. "I'll order that you be fed nourishing food and
are given an opportunity to bathe. The journey through the five cataracts of
the Hapi is a hard one, it will be easier to travel in light boats. I will
give orders for you to be freed if you swear you will make no attempt to
escape. . . ." Cries of joy interrupted his speech. He waited until they
subsided and then continued: "In addition to the oath I give the following
order: for every one that runs away ten of his best comrades will be flayed,
sprinkled with salt and cast bound on to the sandy banks of the Land of Nub.
Those who show cowardice when tackling the animal and run away will be
subjected to horrible tortures; I have warned the inhabitants of the Land of
Nub and under threat of punishment they will track down all runaways."
The end of the Prince's speech met with morose silence which Kabuefta
paid no attention to as he again looked over the slaves. His experience
helped him make a faultless choice.
"Come here, you," said the Prince to Cavius. "You will be in charge of
the trappers and the mediator between my hunters and your companions."
Cavius made an unhurried bow to the Prince and his lips curved in a
grim smile.
"You are selling us liberty at a high price, O Prince, but we are
willing to buy It," said the Etruscan and turned to his comrades. "The
savage beast is no worse than the gold mines, and we have greater hope. . .
."
Kabuefta left them and the slaves were returned to their prison. The
Prince of the South kept his promise: the rebels were well fed; they were
released from their chains and collars and twice a day were taken down to
the Nile to bathe in coves fenced off to keep out the crocodiles. Two days
later a hundred and fifty-four slaves were joined to a detachment of
soldiers and hunters sailing upstream on light boats made of reeds.
The journey was a long one. The inhabitants of the Black Land reckoned
four million cubits from the Gates of the South to the Sixth Cataract of the
Nile. The river flowed almost in a straight line through Wawat and Yer-thet
but in the Land of Kush, situated higher upstream, it made two wide bends,
one to the west and the other to the east. ( Kush-the name given by Egyptian
geographers to the part of the Nile Valley between the Second and Fifth
Cataracts; it included the ancient lands of Jam and Karoi. Yerthet was the
province south of the Second Cataract, Wawat between the First and Second.)
The Lord of the Hunt was in a hurry: the journey would take two months;
in nine weeks time the water would begin to rise and it would be more
difficult to work their way upstream when the speed of the current
increased. Then, again, it would only be possible to bring the huge animal
in a heavy boat over the cataracts when the floods were at their highest.
There would be but little time for the return journey.
Throughout the long journey the slaves were well fed and they felt
strong and healthy, despite the hard work they did every day rowing the
boats against a current that was especially swift at the cataracts.
They did not worry much about the hunt, that was still before them,
since every man was certain that he would survive and gain his freedom. The
contrast between the wild unknown lands through which they passed and the
period of waiting in a black hole in anticipation of brutal punishment was
too great for them. And the men now full of life and strong in mind and body
worked with a will. The Lord of the Hunt was pleased with them and did not
grudge them food-it was provided by all the towns and villages that lay on
their way.
Immediately on leaving the Island of Neb, Pandion and his comrades saw
the First Cataract of the Nile. The river was squeezed between rocky cliffs
and its swift current broke into separate streams of seething white water,
that roared and raged down the slope amongst a tangled mass of black rocks.
Hundreds of years before Pandion's time many thousands of slaves, working
under the guidance of Tha-Quem's most skilled engineers, had built canals
through the granite rocks so that even the big warships could pass the
cataract easily. The light boats of the hunting expedition did not find any
great difficulty in passing the first or any of the other cataracts. The
slaves stood up to the waist in water,' pushing the light boats from one
rock to another. Sometimes they had to carry the boats on their shoulders
along convenient ledges cut on the banks by the floodwaters. Day after day
the hunters made their way farther and farther southwards.
They passed a temple hewn out of living rock on the left bank of the
-river. Pandion's attention was drawn to four gigantic figures, each about
thirty cubits high, standing in a niche. These gigantic statues of the
conqueror, Pharaoh Ramses II, seemed to guard the entrance to the temple.
The expedition passed the Second Cataract which stretched the length of
a whole day's journey. Still higher up the river they came to the Island of
Uronartu with the rapids of Semne; a fortress had been built there nine
centuries before on water-eroded granite cliffs by the Pharaoh who conquered
Nubia and had been given the name of "Repulse of the Savages." (Senusret III
(the legendary Sesostris) 1887-1849 B.C., a Pharaoh of the Xllth Dynasty
(2000-1788), famous for his huge building works.)
The thick walls, twenty cubits high and built of sunbaked brick, were
still in an excellent state of preservation; they were thoroughly overhauled
every thirty years. On the cliffs there were stone tablets with inscriptions
forbidding the Negroes to enter the Land of Tha-Quem.
The gloomy grey fortress with square turrets at the corners and several
other turrets facing the river, with narrow staircases leading from the
river through the rocks, rose high above the surrounding country, a symbol
of the proud might of Quemt. None of the slaves, however, suspected that the
great days of mighty Quemt were past, that a country that had been built up
by the labour of countless slaves was being rent asunder by constant
rebellions and that she was threatened by the growing strength of new
peoples.
On their way they passed four other fortresses standing on rocky
islands or cliffs on the river-bank. The boats then rounded an ox-bow in the
river in the centre of which was situated the town of Hem-Aton, that had
been built by the same heretic Pharaoh who had built the capital city
amongst the ruins of which Pandion had found the statue of the mysterious
girl. The inhabitants of the town were Egyptians who had either been exiled
or had fled from the Black Land in times long past. At the end of the ox-bow
the river turned at right angles, forced into its new course by high cliffs
of dark sandstone. Here began the third narrow stretch of swift-flowing
water almost a hundred thousand cubits in length which took the hunters four
days to pass.
The fourth stretch of the Nile, above the city of Napata, capital of
the kings of Nub, was still longer-it took five days to navigate it. A
further delay of two days was caused by negotiations between the Lord of the
Hunt and the rulers of Kush. At the Fourth Cataract the hunters were
overtaken by three boats carrying Nubians, who were sent ahead to locate the
rhinoceros.
Riverside settlements were fewer and farther apart than in Tha-Quem.
The valley itself was much narrower and the cliffs that bounded the desert
plateaux could be clearly discerned through the heat haze. Hundreds of
crocodiles, some of them of enormous size, hid in the reed thickets or lay
on the sand-banks exposing their greenish-black backs to the blazing sun.
Several careless slaves and soldiers fell victims to the cunning attacks of
the silent reptiles right before the eyes of their comrades.
There were large numbers of hippopotamuses in these waters. Pandion,
the Etruscans and other slaves from the northern countries were already
familiar with these ugly animals that bore in Egyptian the name of hie. The
hippopotamuses did not show any fear of people nor did they attack them
without cause so that the slaves were able to pass quite close to them. A
large number of blue patches in front of the green wall of rushes ahead of
them showed the resting places of the hippopotamuses in the wider parts of
the valley, where the river spread into a broad, smooth-surfaced lake. The
wet skin of the animals had a bluish tinge. The ungainly monsters watched
the boats pass, holding above the water their strange blunt heads, that
looked as though the snouts had been chopped off. Very often the animals
held their square jowls under the water so that the yellow, muddy stream
flowed over the dark mounds of foreheads surmounted by tiny protruding ears.
The eyes of the hippopotamuses, situated on bumps on the head and giving
them an expression of ferocity, gazed at the passing boats in stupid
persistence.
In those places where the granite cliffs rose straight from the
river-bed, forming cataracts and rapids, they came across deep holes between
the crags filled with unruffled, transparent water. On one occasion, when
the men were carrying the boats over a portage that ran along the edge of a
granite cliff, they saw a huge hippopotamus walking along the bottom of one
of these holes on his short stumpy legs. Under the water the bluish skin of
the animal turned a deeper blue. Experienced Negroes explained to their
comrades that the Me often walk along the beds of rivers in search of the
roots of water-plants.
The river valley changed its direction for the last time -at a big,
densely populated and fertile island it turned almost due south and only a
short distance divided them from their goal.
The steep banks of the river grew lower, they were cut by wide, dry
watercourses in which thick growths of thorny trees occurred. On the journey
between the Fourth and Fifth Cataracts two boats overturned and eleven men,
all of them poor swimmers, were drowned.
After passing the Fifth Cataract they met the first tributary of the
Nile. The wide mouth of the River of Perfumes, a right tributary of the
Nile, joined the main stream in an extensive jungle of reeds and papyri. An
impassable green wail, up to twenty cubits in height, intersected by the
zigzags of streams and backwaters, barred the entrance to the river. The
banks of the Nile had now become separate, clearly defined ranges of hills,
on which groves of trees were becoming more frequent; their thorny trunks
were higher and the long dark ribbons of the groves ran far into the
interior of an unknown and unpopulated land. The slopes of the hills
bristled with clumps of coarse grass that rustled in the wind. The time was
drawing near when they would have to pay for their journey in freedom,
without chains and without prisons, and a suppressed alarm filled the hearts
of the slaves.
( River of Perfumes-the Atbara, falling into the Nile from the East.)
Soon the terrible trial will begin: some will be saved at the cost of
the blood and sufferings of their comrades, others will remain for ever in
this unknown land, having made the supreme sacrifice. Such were Cavius'
thoughts as he cast an involuntary glance over his companions, trying to
imagine what the future held in store.
As they sailed farther upstream, the country took on the character of a
plain. Marshy banks framed the smooth surface of the water in a sharply
defined line of dark grass that stretched away inland as far as the eye
could reach. The star-shaped brushes of the papyrus plants hung over the
river, breaking the monotonous line of the level banks. Grass-covered islets
broke the stream into a labyrinth of narrow passages, where the deep water
lay dark and mysterious between the green walls. In places where there was
hard ground on the banks the travellers saw large patches of cracked,
sun-baked clay bearing the footprints of many animals. Birds that looked
like storks but were the height of a man amazed the slaves by their
monstrous beaks. It looked to them as if the birds' heads were surmounted by
huge chests with the edges of the lids turned upwards. The monsters' evil
yellow eyes gleamed from under pendent orbits.
After passing the point where the River of Perfumes entered the Nile,
they journeyed for two days along a stretch of the river straight as a
spear-shaft until they saw the faint smoke of two signal fires on a ledge of
the bank. Here they were awaited by the hunters and Nubian guides who had
gone ahead; the signal told them that the beast had been found. That night a
hundred and forty slaves escorted by ninety soldiers marched westwards from
the river. Warm, heavy rain poured down on the heated soil. The humidity
made the men dizzy, for they had long forgotten what rain was like under the
permanently cloudless sky of Tha-Quem.
The hunters marched through coarse grass that grew waist-high,
occasionally passing the black silhouettes of trees. Hyenas and jackals
howled and barked on all sides, wild cats rent the air with their loud
mewing and the raucous voices of night birds, calling to each other, had a
particularly ominous sound. A new country, mysterious and indefinite in the
darkness, opened up before the dwellers of Asia and the Northern Shores, a
country teeming with life independent of man and unsubdued by him.
Ahead of them appeared a huge tree whose gigantic crown covered half
the sky; its trunk was thicker than any of the big obelisks of the Black
Land. The people made camp under this tree and there spent the night that
was to be the last for many of them. Pandion could not get to sleep for a
long time-he was excited by thoughts of the coming tight and lay listening
to the sounds of the African plain lands.
Cavius sat by the camp-fire discussing plans of action for the next day
with the hunters; then he, too, lay down with a heavy sigh as he looked over
the restlessly dozing or sleepless figures of his comrades. He could not
understand the carefree attitude of Kidogo who was calmly sleeping between
Pandion and Remdus-throughout the journey the four friends had kept
together. The Negro's unconcern seemed to him the very highest degree of
bravery which even he, a soldier who had many times faced death, could not
lay claim to.
Morning came and the slaves were divided into three groups each headed
by five hunters and two local guides. Every slave was provided with a long
rope or thong with a noose at the end. Four men in each party carried a big
net made of especially strong ropes, the mesh of which was a cubit across.
Their task was to catch the monster with the ropes, entangle him in the nets
and then bind his feet.
In complete silence they set out across the plain, each group at some
distance from the others. The soldiers stretched out in a long line, arrows
held to their bows as they did not trust the slaves. Before Pandion and his
comrades stretched a level plain overgrown with grass more than waist high
and dotted here and there by trees with umbrella-shaped crowns. (The African
acacia and certain varieties of mimosa.)Their grey trunks spread out into
branches almost from the roots, forming a huge funnel so that the trees
looked like inverted cones while their transparent, dull green foliage
seemed to be floating in the air.
Between the trees there were dark patches of tall, small-leaved shrubs,
at times stretching along the scarcely perceptible depression of a temporary
watercourse and at other times visible from the distance as a shapeless dark
mass. Occasionally they came across trees with trunks of enormous thickness
whose huge gnarled and knotted branches were covered with young leaves and
bunches of white flowers. These massive trees stood out sharply in the
plain, their far-spreading crowns casting huge patches of black shadow.
Their fibrous bark had a metallic hue that looked like lead; their branches
seemed to be cast from copper and the aroma spread by their flowers
resembled that of almonds.
The sun turned the scarcely moving, coarse grass to gold over which the
green lacework of the trees seemed to be floating in the air.
A row of black thin spears appeared above the grass- a group of
antelopes-the oryx-showed their horns and disappeared behind a line of
bushes. The grass was still rather scanty, patches of bare, cracked earth
showed on all sides since the rains had only just begun. On their left
appeared a grove of trees whose feather-like leaves resembled palms but
their trunks opened out into two branches at the top, like the spread
fingers of a hand, and on these, in turn, other branches grew.
(The baobab-a tree typical of the African savanna. )
It was here that the hunters had seen the rhinoceroses on the previous
day and, making a sign to the slaves to stay where they were, crawled
cautiously towards the grove, and peered amongst the trees where it was dark
after the bright sunlight outside. There were no animals there and the
hunters led the slaves towards a dry watercourse densely overgrown with
bushes. Here there was a spring which the rhinoceroses had turned into a
mud-hole where they lay during the hottest hours of the day. The hunters
came to an open space around which were three of the big umbrella-headed
acacias. They were still about two thousand cubits from the dry watercourse
when one of the Nubian guides at the head of the party stopped and threw out
his arms in a signal to halt. It became so silent that the humming of
insects could be plainly heard. Kidogo touched Pandion on the shoulder-he
pointed to one side where Pandion saw something under the low, thorny trees
that looked like two smooth blocks of stone. These were the awe-inspiring
animals of the southern plains. At first the animals did not notice the
hunters and continued lying on the ground with their backs towards them. The
animals did not seem very big to Pandion, and one of them, a female, was
much smaller than the other. The slaves did not know that the hunters,
hoping for a generous reward, had picked out an exceptionally large male
rhinoceros of the light-skinned variety* that was much bigger than its
southern relatives, was higher in the shoulder, had a wide square jowl and
light grey skin. The hunters decided to change the plan of attack so that
the female would not intervene and spoil the hunt.
( In former times the white rhinoceros was considerably more common in
Northern Sudan.)
The Lord of the Hunt and the Captain of the escort troops climbed up a
tree, cursing the long thorns on its trunk. The soldiers hid behind bushes.
The slaves joined forces in a single group, spread out in several lines and,
together with the hunters, rushed across the open plain with deafening
shouts, waving their ropes and giving themselves courage by shouting their
war-cries. The two animals jumped to their feet with amazing speed. The huge
male stood still for a second, his eyes fixed on the people approaching him,
but the female, more frightened than he, ran away to one side. This was what
the hunters had counted on and they ran swiftly away to the right to cut her
off from her companion.
From the tree-top the Lord of the Hunt could see the gigantic body of
the immobile rhinoceros, the black curve of ears peeked forward and
separated by the high hill-like crown of the animal's head. Behind his ears
rose the high hump of its massive withers and in front of them gleamed the
sharp end of its horn. It seemed to the Egyptian that the animal's tiny eyes
were looking down at the ground with a stupid and even offended look in
them.
A minute later the rhinoceros turned and the Egyptian saw its long
head, awkwardly curved in the middle, the steep slope of its withers, the
ridge of bones protruding on its rump, its legs as thick as tree-trunks and
its little tail sticking up in a warlike manner.
The huge shining horn, no less than two cubits long, situated on the
animal's nose, was very thick at the root and sharply pointed at the tip.
Behind it was another horn, smaller than the first, also sharp, with a round
wide base..
The hearts of the people running towards the rhinoceros beat
furiously-close at hand it seemed a most fearful monster. The gigantic body
was no less than eight cubits in length and its powerful withers towered a
good four cubits above the ground. The rhinoceros snorted so loudly that
every man heard it and then hurled itself at the oncoming people. With an
agility unbelievable in so great a body the massive animal was an instant
later in the middle of the crowd. Nobody had time to lift a rope. Pandion
found himself some distance from the massive animal that rushed past like a
whirlwind. He just had time to notice the animal's distended nostrils
surrounded by folds of skin, a torn right ear and flanks covered with little
hillocks like growths of lichen. After that everything was mixed up in
Pandion's head. A shrill scream rang out across the plain, an awkwardly
twisted human figure flew through the air. The rhinoceros made a wide path
through the crowd of slaves and dashed past them into the open plain,
leaving several prostrated bodies behind him, turned, and again hurled
himself at the unfortunate people. This time human figures hung on to the
rapidly moving mass of flesh. But the monster was made up of solid muscles
and thick bones and clothed in a skin as hard as armour-plating and the men
flew off in different directions. Again the rhinoceros began stamping the
doomed slaves underfoot, crushing them and goring them with its horn.
Pandion, who had run forward together with the others, was stopped by a
dull, heavy blow and found himself on all fours. Wailing groans and piercing
shrieks swept across the field and the air was filled with clouds of dust.
The Lord of the Hunt, who had been shouting from his tree-top to encourage
the slaves, was now silent as he looked in confusion at the battle. Not a
single rope had been fastened to the animal and already some thirty men lay
dead or wounded. The soldiers, pale and trembling, took cover behind the
trees, praying to the gods of Tha-Quem for salvation. For the third time the
rhinoceros attacked the people and although they gave way before him he
managed to gore Remdus, the younger Etruscan, with his horn. With abrupt
snorts the animal dashed furiously amongst the people, goring them and
trampling them underfoot. Foam flew from the animal's nostrils; his tiny
eyes gleamed with rage.
With a furious howl Cavius hurled himself at the monster but his rope
slipped off the horn; the Etruscan himself flew aside, bleeding-the rough
hide of the rhinoceros had torn the skin from his shoulder and chest.
Cavius got to his feet with difficulty, roaring in helpless fury.
Scared by the strength of the rhinoceros the people staggered back from him,
the less brave of them Sliding behind the backs of their comrades.
It seemed that little more was required to make them scatter in all
directions, abandoning their hopes of liberty.
Again the rhinoceros turned to attack the people, again the air was
filled with howls. Kidogo stepped forward. The Negro's nostrils were
distended; he was filled with that fire of battle that is born of mortal
d-anger when a man forgets everything except the necessity to fight, to
fight for life. Leaping aside from the awful horn that threatened certain
death, Kidogo ran after the animal and seized hold of its tail. Pandion,
recovering from the terrible shaking he had received, picked up a net that
was lying on the ground. At that moment he realized that he should be ahead
of his comrades whose bodies had shielded him when he lay stupefied on the
grass. Some faint memories flitted through his mind-the glade in Crete, the
dangerous games with the bull. The rhinoceros was not much like a bull, but
Pandion decided to use the same methods. Throwing the rolled-up net over his
shoulder, he rushed at the rhinoceros. The animal had come to a halt, was
pawing the ground with its hind-legs, churning up clouds of dust, and had
thrown Kidogo far away. Two Libyans, understanding Pandion's plan, attracted
the animal's attention to one side and, with a single bound, he reached the
animal and pressed closely to its side. The rhinoceros turned like
lightning, its rough hide tearing Pandion's skin. Pandion felt a terrific
pain, but, forgetting all else, hung on to the animal's ear. In the way he
had seen it done in Crete, Pandion threw his body across that of the animal
and landed on his broad back. The rhinoceros twisted and turned. Pandion
hung on for all he was worth. If I can only hold on, was" the one thought
that repeated itself in his brain.
And Pandion held on for the number of seconds necessary to throw the
net over the animal's head. The horns protruded through the mesh of the net
and Pandion was filled with wild joy, but instantly he became blind to his
surroundings and lost consciousness. Something cracked, a heavy weight fell
on him and everything went dark before his eyes.
In the heat of battle Pandion had not noticed that Kidogo had again
caught hold of the animal's tail and that ten Libyans and six Amu had seized
the net he had flung over the animal's head. In his effort to throw off 'the
people the rhinoceros had rolled over on to one side breaking the arm and
collar-bone of the young Hellene who fell heavily to the ground. The people
took immediate advantage of the monster's fall. With loud shouts the slaves
fell on the rhinoceros, a second net enveloped its head and two nooses were
made fast on a hind-leg and one on a foreleg.. The animal's snorting
developed into a deep roar; it rolled over on to the left side, then on to
its back, crushing people's bones under its heavy weight. It seemed that
there was no limit to the animal's strength. Six times it rose to its feet,
got mixed up in the ropes and rolled over on to its back again, killing more
than fifty men. Still the ropes and thongs on its legs increased in number
and the hunters drew' the strong nooses tight. Three nets enveloped the
animal from head to foot. Soon a crowd of people, bleeding, sweating and
covered in dirt, lay on the madly struggling rhinoceros. The animal's hide,
covered with human blood, 'had become slippery, the men's crooked fingers
would not hold, but still the ropes were drawn tighter and tighter. Even
those who had been crushed by the animal's heavy weight in its last effort
to free itself clung to the ropes with the rigid grip of death. '
The hunters came up to the recumbent animal with fresh ropes, bound all
four tree-like legs and tied its head to its forelegs by ropes passed behind
the horn.
The terrible battle was over.
The panic-stricken people gradually came to their senses; the muscles
of their lacerated bodies began to twitch as though they were in a fever and
black patches floated before their unseeing eyes.
At last the frantically beating hearts grew calmer; here and there
sighs of relief were to be heard, for the people had begun to realize that
death had passed them by. Cavius, covered with bloody mud, rose staggering
to his feet; Kidogo, trembling all over, but already smiling, came up to
him. The smile, however, immediately left the Negro's greying face when he
found that Pandion was not amongst the living.
Seventy-three men had survived, the remainder had either been killed or
had received mortal wounds. The Etruscan and Kidogo sought for Pandion
amongst the dead in the down-trodden grass, found his body and carried it
into the shade. Cavius examined him carefully but could not find any mortal
injuries. Remdus was dead; the fiery leader of the Amu had also perished and
the brave Libyan Akhmi, his chest crushed, lay dying.
While the slaves were counting their losses and carrying the dying to
the shade of the trees, the soldiers brought a huge wooden platform from the
river-the bottom of the cage that had been prepared for the rhinoceros; they
rolled the body of the bound monster on to it and dragged it to the river on
rollers.
Cavius went up to the Lord of the Hunt.
"Order them to help us carry away the wounded," he said, pointing to
the soldiers.
"What do you want to do with them?" asked the Lord of the Hunt, looking
with involuntary admiration at the mighty Etruscan, smeared with blood and
dust, whose face was all stern grief.
"We'll take them back down the river: perhaps some of them will live as
far as Tha-Quem and its skilled physicians," answered Cavius, gloomily.
"Who told you that you will return to Tha-Quem?" the Lord of the Hunt
interrupted him.
The Etruscan shuddered and stepped back a pace.
"Was the Prince of the South lying to us, then? Are we not free?"
shouted Cavius.
"No, the Prince did not lie to you, despised one-you are free!" With
these words the Lord of the Hunt held but a small papyrus scroll to the
Etruscan. "Here's his ordinance."
With great care Cavius took the precious document that made free men of
the slaves. . . .
"If that's so, then why..." he began.
"Be silent," snapped the Lord of the Hunt haughtily, "and listen to me.
You're free here," the Lord of the Hunt stressed the last word. "You may go
wherever you please -there, there and there," his hand pointed to the west,
east and south, "but not to Tha-Quem or to Nub that is under our rule. If
you disobey you'll again become slaves. I presume," he added in brutal
tones, "that when you've thought matters over you'll return and fall to the
feet of our ruler and suffer what fate has predestined for you as servants
of the Chosen 'People of the Black Land."
Cavius took two steps forward. His eyes gleamed. He stretched out his
hand to one of the soldiers who was looking in perplexity at the Lord of the
Hunt, and with a bold gesture pulled the short sword from his belt. The
Etruscan raised the flashing weapon point upwards, kissed it and spoke
quickly in his own language, which nobody could understand.
"I swear by the Supreme God of Lightning, I swear by the God of Death
whose name I bear, that despite all the evil deeds of this accursed people I
will return alive to the land of my birth. I swear that from this hour I
shall not rest until I sail to the shores of Tha-Quem with a strong army to
take payment in full for all the evil that has been done."
Cavius waved his hand over the field where the bodies lay scattered and
then with great force hurled the sword to his feet. The sword sank deep into
the earth. The Etruscan turned sharply round and walked off towards his
comrades but suddenly turned back.
"I ask you only one thing," he said to the Lord of the Hunt who was
going off with the last of the soldiers. "Order them to leave us a few
spears, knives and bows. We have to protect our wounded."
The Lord of the Hunt nodded his head without speaking and disappeared
behind the bushes, making his way to the river by the broad path made by the
platform on which the rhinoceros had been dragged away.
Cavius told his comrades what had been said. Cries of wrath, muttered
curses and helpless threats mingled with the plaintive moans of the dying.
"We'll think about what we're going to do later on," shouted Cavius.
"The first thing we have to decide is what to do with the wounded. It's a
long way to the river, we're tired and can't carry them that far. Let us
rest a little and then fifty men can go to the river and twenty will remain
here on guard-there are many wild beasts about." Cavius pointed to the
spotted backs of hyenas flashing through the long grass, attracted by the
smell of blood. Huge birds with long, bare necks circled round the field,
landed and then flew off again.
The dry earth, burned by the sun, gave off waves of heat, the network
of sunspots under the trees trembled very slightly and the cries of wild
doves sounded mournful in the hot silence. The fever of battle had passed,
wounds and knocks were beginning to ache, grazed skin began to burn and
fester.
The death of Remdus had been a heavy blow to Cavius -the youngster had
been the one link with the Etruscan's distant homeland. Now that link was
broken.
Kidogo, forgetting his own wounds, sat over Pandion. The young Hellene
had apparently received some internal injury and did not return to
consciousness. He was breathing, however, his breath coming through his
parched lips in a scarcely audible whistle. Several times Kidogo looked at
his comrades lying in the shade, then jumped to his feet and called for
volunteers to go to the river for water for the wounded.
Groaning involuntarily, the men rose to their feet. Immediately they
felt an intolerable thirst that stung and burned their throats. If they, the
survivors, were so much in need of water, what must be the sufferings of the
wounded who were silent only because they had not strength enough to groan.
It was no less than two hours fast walking to the river if they went in a
straight line.
Suddenly the sound of voices came from beyond the bushes-a party of
soldiers, about fifty of them, carrying vessels with water and food,
appeared in the glade. There were no Egyptians amongst them, only Nubians
and Negroes had come, led by two guides.
The soldiers stopped talking as soon as they saw the battlefield. They
made their way to the tree under which Cavius was standing and, without a
word, placed at his feet earthen and wooden vessels, a dozen spears, six
bows with full quivers, four heavy knives and four small hippopotamus-hide
shields studded with brass plates. The thirsty men threw themselves madly at
the water jars. Kidogo seized one of the heavy knives and said he would kill
anybody who touched the water. They began hurriedly pouring water from two
of the vessels into the parched mouths of the wounded after which the others
were allowed to drink. The soldiers went away without saying a single word.
Amongst the slaves there were two men skilled in the treatment of
wounds and they, together with Cavius, set about bandaging their comrades'
injuries. Pandion's broken bones were set and put in splints of hard bark
and bound with strips torn from his own loin-cloth. When he removed
Pandion's loin-cloth, Kidogo saw the brightly shining stone that was hidden
in the folds of the cloth. The Negro hid it carefully, believing it to be a
magic amulet.
Two other wounded had to be put in splints, one of them a Libyan with a
broken arm, and the other a slim, muscular Negro, who lay helpless with his
leg broken below the knee. The condition of the others was apparently
hopeless, since the terrible horn of the rhinoceros had gored them deeply,
injuring them internally. Some of them had been crushed under the tremendous
weight of the animal or under its tree-trunk legs.
Before Cavius had time enough to treat all the wounded, the dark
silhouette of a man hurrying towards the scene of the battle appeared in the
yellow grass. This was one of those local inhabitants who had guided the
soldiers with the food arid water and had now returned of his own accord.
Breathing heavily from the exertion of his rapid journey he approached
Cavius with his hands outstretched, palms upwards. The Etruscan recognized
this as a sign of friendship and answered with the same gesture. The guide
then squatted on his heels in the shade of the tree and, leaning on his long
spear, began to talk rapidly, pointing towards the river and to the south.
His listeners, however, were at a loss: the Nubian did not know more than
ten words of the language of Tha-Quem while Cavius did not understand a
single word of what the Nubian was saying. Amongst the slaves, however, they
found interpreters.
It turned out that the guide had dropped back from the party of
soldiers and had returned in order to help the slaves find their way. The
Nubian told them that the liberated slaves were driven out of the districts
subordinate to Tha-Quem so that it would be dangerous for them to return to
the river-they might be enslaved again. The guide advised Cavius to journey
to the west where they would soon come to a big, dry valley. They must
travel southwards through this valley for four days until they met peaceful
nomad herdsmen.
"You will give them this," said the Nubian, taking out of a sheet, that
was thrown across his shoulder, a kind of symbol made of red twigs, bent and
plaited into a special shape, "then they will receive you hospitably and
will give you asses to carry the wounded. Still farther to the south is the
country of a rich and peaceful people, who hate Quemt. There the wounded can
be healed. The farther you go to the south the more water you will find and
the rains will be more frequent. You will always find water in the dry
watercourse that you will follow if you dig a hole two cubits deep. . . ."
The Nubian rose to his feet, in a hurry to go; Cavius wanted to thank
him but suddenly they were approached by one of the Asian slaves with a
long, tangled and dirty beard and a mass of uncombed hair on his head.
"Why do you advise us to go to the west and the south? Our home's
there." And the Asian pointed to the east, in the direction of the river.
The Nubian stared fixedly at the speaker and then answered slowly,
pausing after each word:
"If you cross the river, you will find a waterless stony desert in the
east. If you cross the desert and the high mountains, you will reach the
shores of the sea where Tha-Quem rules. If you are able to cross the sea, on
the other side, it is said, there is a desert still more terrible. In the
mountains and along the River of Perfumes there live tribes that provide
slaves for Tha-Quem in exchange for weapons. Think it over for yourself!"
"Is there no road to the north?" asked one of the Libyans in wheedling
tones.
"Two days journey to the north begins an endless desert: at first it is
dry clay and stones and beyond them there is sand. How will you go that way
and for what? It may be that there are roads and sources of water there, but
I do not know them. I have told you of the easiest road, the one I know
well. . . ." Indicating with a gesture that the talk was at an end the
Nubian left the shade of the tree.
Cavius followed him, placed his arm round his shoulders and began to
thank him, mixing Egyptian and Etruscan words; then he called an
interpreter.
"I have nothing I can give, I have nothing myself except. .." the
Etruscan touched his dirty loin-cloth, "... but I shall always keep you in
my heart."
"I want no payment for my help, I, too, follow the dictates of my
heart," answered the Nubian with a smile. "Who of us that have known the
oppression of Tha-Quem would not help you brave men who have gained your
liberty at such a terrible price?! Look here, you take my advice and keep
the symbol I gave you. . . . I'll tell you something else: there's a
water-hole to your right, about two thousand cubits from here, but you had
better go away today, before nightfall. Good-bye, bold foreigner, my
greetings to your comrades. I must hurry."
The guide disappeared and Cavius, wrapped in thought, looked long after
him.
No, they could not leave today and abandon their dying comrades to be
torn to pieces by the hyenas. If there were water nearby that would be all
the more reason for staying where they were.
Cavius returned to his comrades who were discussing what was to be done
next. Since they had quenched their thirst and eaten, the men had become
cooler in their judgement and were carefully weighing up the next move.
It was clear to all of them that it would be impossible to go
north-they had to get away from the river as quickly as possible, but
opinions were divided on the question of whether to go south or east.
The Asians, who constituted almost a half of the survivors, did not
want to go deeper into the Land of the Black People and insisted on
travelling eastwards. The Nubians said that in three, weeks they could reach
the shores of the narrow sea that divided Nubia from Asia and the Asians
were ready to attempt another journey through the desert to get home more
quickly.
Cavius had been taken captive during an armed expedition. He had a
family in his native land, and he hesitated: the possibility of a speedy
return home was very tempting. His shortest way would be through Quemt,
floating downstream in a boat until they reached the sea; but as an
experienced soldier, who had spent much of his life wandering, he realized
that a small group of people, lost in a strange land, especially in a
desert, where every water-hole was known, could only survive by a miracle.
So far the Etruscan had not met with any miracles in his life and did not
have much faith in them. :
Kidogo, who had left Pandion in order to take part in the, council, now
put in his word. It turned out that Kidogo was the son of a potter and came
from a rich and numerous tribe living on the seacoast that forms the western
boundary of the Land of the Black People. Here the dry land was indented by
a huge bay called the Southern Horn...(The Gulf of Guinea.) Kidogo did not
know the road home from Nubia: he had been taken captive on the edge of the
Great Desert when he was on his way to Quemt, impelled by a passionate
desire to see for himself the miracles of craftsmanship performed in that
country. The Negro, however, believed that his homeland could not be very
far to the south-west from the scene of the recent battle. Kidogo assured
the others that they could learn the right road from that tribe to which the
Nubian guide had advised them to go. Kidogo promised hospitality to all his
comrades if they reached the country where his people lived; he then told
Cavius that in his childhood he had heard that people like him and Pandion
had sailed from the northern seas to visit his country. After Cavius had
weighed everything up he advised his comrades to take the advice of the
Nubian guide and journey to the south, for Kidogo's words made the unknown
Land of the Black People seem less hostile to him. The sea there was free,
was not under the rule of the hated Tha-Quem and would provide the road by
which they could return to their homes. The Etruscan trusted the sea more
than he did the desert. The Asians protested and would not agree but the
Libyans supported Cavius, to say nothing of the Negroes-all of them were
prepared to journey to the south and the west: there lay the road to their
homes.
The Asians maintained that they did not know how the nomads would treat
them, and especially how they would be received by that numerous tribe the
guide had spoken of; they said that the symbol the guide had given Cavius
might be a trap and that they would again be made slaves.
It was then that the Negro who lay with a broken leg attracted
attention to himself by snouts and gestures. Hurriedly, swallowing his words
and spluttering, he said something, trying to smile and frequently beating
his breast. From that impassioned speech, from that flood of unknown words,
Cavius understood that the Negro came from that tribe the guide advised them
to try to reach with the aid of the nomad herdsmen, and that he was avowing
the peacefulness of his people. Then Cavius made his decision and took the
side of the Negroes and Libyans; he spoke against the Asians who continued
to insist on their plan. The sun was already sinking and they had to think
about water and a bivouac for the night, so Cavius advised them to wait
until morning. Although they all wanted to get away from that terrible
glade, strewn with their dead, they had to stay there in order not to cause
the dying unnecessary suffering by-moving them. Ten men went to the
water-hole indicated by the Nubian and returned with jars full of warm,
brackish water that smelled of clay. On the advice of the Negroes a fence of
thorn branches was built between the trees to ward off the attacks of the
hyenas. On the side facing the glade, three fires were built. Three men
remained to watch the wounded and ten men with spears sat by the fires. In
those parts night falls quickly. The clouds were still visible in the west
when, from the north and the east, there came rolling a wave of darkness,
that drowned the tops of the trees, lighting the countless lamps of the
stars above them. Very soon Cavius, who was unacquainted with southern
countries, understood why the guide had advised them to leave this place as
soon as possible. The howling of the jackals filled the air and from all
sides came the hysterical laughing of the hyenas. It seemed that hundreds of
the animals had come running from all directions to devour not only the dead
but the living as well. There was a fearful racket on the glade, grunting,
the cracking of bones and sounds of gnawing. The sickly-sweet smell of
bodies decomposing in the heat spread rapidly over the earth.
The men shouted, threw clots of earth and stones, ran out with flaming
brands, but it was all in vain-the number of carrion seekers steadily
increased.
Suddenly a dull rattling sound came from beyond the thorn barrier
followed by a thunderous roar that seemed to roll along the ground and shake
the earth. The animals feeding on the glade fell silent. The men who had
been sleeping awoke and jumped to their feet; in the silence that ensued the
wounded groaned more loudly. The roar drew nearer to them, a low sound of
terrible strength that seemed to come from a huge trumpet. An indistinct
silhouette with a huge head appeared beside the end tree-an enormous lion
was approaching the frightened men and behind it slunk the sinuous shape of
a lioness. Spears were turned in the direction of the animals, their bronze
tips shining faintly in the dull flames of the fires. At the risk of firing
the dry grass the men shouted and threw burning brands at the lions. The
stupefied animals stopped in their tracks, then ran off to the glade. The
men stood with their spears ready, for -a long time, but the lions did not
attack.
Those whose turn it was to rest had not had time to fall asleep before
the air was again rent by the thunderous roar of a lion, followed by a
second and a third. No less than three lions were wandering round the camp
and the lioness, who had appeared earlier, made a fourth. The men realized
that the low, carelessly built barrier was unpardonable neglect on their
part. Four men with spears stood ready to repel any possible attack from
behind, while the six other spearmen remained standing by the fires. Nobody
slept any more. The men armed themselves with whatever they could and sat or
stood staring into the darkness. Another roar rent the air and an enormous
lion with a sand-coloured mane appeared near the end fire. The flickering
flames of the fire made the huge beast seem still bigger and his eyes, fixed
on the people, radiated a green gleam. By sheer bad luck one of the northern
Asians, inexperienced in hunting, stood nearby with a bow. Frightened by the
animal's roar, he sent an arrow straight into its face. The roar broke off
with a drawn-out moan, that turned to a hoarse cough and then ceased.
"Look out!" came the desperate cry of one of the Nubians.
The lion's body whirled through the air; with a single bound the animal
crossed the line of fires and landed between the people. It was not easy to
cause confusion amongst the conquerors of the white rhinoceros-spears
stopped the lion, biting into his flanks and chest while four arrows pierced
his sinuous body. Two spear-shafts broke with a dry crack under the heavy
blows of the lion's paws and at that moment three tall Negroes, projecting
themselves with round shields, thrust their heavy knives into the beast's
chest. . . . The lion howled long and plaintively and the _men, covered with
his blood, jumped back.
A momentary silence was broken by deafening shouts of victory that
rolled across the plain. The body of the dead lion was thrown down in front
of the fires and the men set about binding the injuries of two freshly
wounded, who were still trembling with the fever of battle.
The lions wandered round the encampment until sunrise, roaring
furiously from time to time, but they made no further attacks.
With the dawn of a new day, that came with blinding suddenness, five of
the badly wounded men died. Another seven were found to have died during the
night-in the excitement of the scuffle with the lion nobody had noticed when
it occurred. Akhnii was still breathing, his grey lips moving faintly from
time to time.
Pandion lay with his eyes open, his breast rose and fell with calm,
regular breathing. Kidogo bent over him and was horrified to discover that
his friend could not see him. But when he brought water Pandion drank it
immediately and slowly closed his eyes.
After a breakfast from the remnants of yesterday's food Cavius proposed
to start out. The Asians had come to an agreement amongst themselves during
the night and objected. They shouted that in a country where there were so
many beasts of prey they must inevitably perish; they must hurry to escape
from this diabolical plain and the desert was safer and better known to
them. No matter how much Cavius and the Negroes tried to persuade them they
remained resolute.
"Very well, do as you please," said the Etruscan with determination.
"I'm going south with Kidogo. Let those who want to go with us come here,
those who want to go east, over there to the left."
A group of black and bronze-coloured bodies immediately formed around
the Etruscan-the Negroes, Libyans and Nubians were with him, altogether
thirty-seven men, not counting Pandion and the Negro with the broken leg who
had raised himself on one elbow and was listening intently to what was going
on.
Thirty-two men went to the left and stood with their heads stubbornly
bowed.
The weapons and vessels for water were divided equally between the two
groups so that the Asians would not be able to blame their comrades for a
possible failure.
As soon as the things had been shared out, the long-bearded leader of
the Asians led his people away to the east, towards the river, as though
their affection for their comrades might shake their determination. Those
who remained stood for a long time looking after those who had parted from
them on the threshold of liberty, then with sighs of sadness set about their
own affairs.
Cavius and Kidogo examined Pandion and the wounded Negro and carried
them over to another thin-branched tree. When they tried to lift Akhmi, a
howl escaped the Libyan's throat and the last breath of life left the body
of that bold fighter for freedom.
Cavius advised the Libyans to lift the dead man on to a tree and tie
him securely with ropes. This was immediately done although they knew that
the body would be torn to pieces by carrion birds; nevertheless it seemed
less repulsive than leaving him as food for the foul hyenas.
In silence, without a single word, Cavius and Kidogo cut a number of
branches.
"What are you doing?" asked one of the tall Negroes, approaching the
Etruscan.
"Litters. Kidogo and I will carry him." Cavius pointed to Pandion. "And
you will carry him," he pointed to the Negro with his leg in splints. "The
Libyan will be able to walk without help with his arm in a sling."
"We'll all carry the man who was the first to jump on to the
rhinoceros," answered the Negro, turning to his companions. "That brave man
saved us all. How can we forget it? Wait a bit, we can make better litters."
Four Negroes set to work with great skill making litters. They were
soon ready-the many ropes left lying on the scene of the battle with the
rhinoceros were plaited between long poles which were kept rigid by double
struts' between them. In the centre of the struts they placed little
cushions made of hard bark and covered with a piece of lion's skin. The
Negro with the broken leg watched them at work, smiling joyously, his dark
eyes filled with an expression of loyalty.
The wounded men were placed on the litters and everything was ready for
the departure. The Negroes stood in pairs by the litters, lifted them high
to the full length of their arms, and fixed the little cushions firmly on
their heads. The litter-bearers started out first, marching easily and in
step.
Thus it was that Pandion set out on his journey without having
recovered consciousness. Two Nubians and a Negro, armed with spears and a
bow, undertook to act as guides; they went ahead and the other thirty men
followed in single file behind the litters. The end of the procession was
brought up by another three armed men, two with spears and one with a bow.
The travellers passed round the edge of the open glade westwards, trying not
to look at the remains of their comrades and carrying with them a bitter
memory of guilt at not having been able to shield them from the nocturnal
depredations of the carrion eaters.
Shortly after their midday halt they reached a wide dry watercourse
that even from a distance was visible on account of the lines of bushes that
edged it and stood out clearly against the yellow grass of the plain.
The watercourse took them due south and they continued without further
halts until sundown. That day they did not have to dig for water-a small
spring sent its waters to the surface through a crack between two blocks of
coarse-grained, friable stone; but they had to work hard preparing their
camp and encircling it with a wall of thorn-bushes. That night they all
slept soundly, not in the least troubled by the distant roars of lions and
hyenas prowling in the darkness.
The second and third days passed quietly. Only once did they see the
black mass of a rhinoceros plodding through the grass with lowered head. In
their confusion the men stood still-their recent experience was still fresh
in their memories. The travellers lay down in the grass. The rhinoceros
raised its head and again, as at that terrible moment, they saw its curved
ears set wide apart, with the tip of the horn rising between them. The folds
of its thick skin encircled its shoulders and hung down in rolls to its
heavy legs that were hidden by the grass. The massive animal stood still and
then turned and continued on its way in the former direction.
They frequently came across small herds of yellowish-grey antelopes
which the hunters brought down with their arrows; they made excellent and
tasty food. On the fourth day the watercourse widened out and then
disappeared; the yellow clay earth gave way to strange, bright red soil*
that covered the crushed granite in a thin layer. Rounded granite hills
formed dark patches on that tiresome red plain. The grass had gone, its
place was taken by hard leaves that stuck out of the ground like bunches of
sharp narrow sword-blades.** The guides made a wide detour of patches of
this strange plant with leaves whose edges were as sharp as razors.
(* Laterite-a red, ferrous soil, found in southern countries, the
product of the erosion of igneous rocks. ** Sansevieria-a strange plant
found in dry laterite deposits)
The red plain spread out in front of them, clouds of dust, all the same
size, rose into pillars and shut out the glare of the sun. The heat was
overwhelming but the travellers kept going, fearing that this waterless
plain might prove very extensive. The watercourse with its subterranean
stream of water was far behind them. Who knew when they would find the water
that is so essential to man in this country!
From the summit of one of the granite hills they noticed that ahead of
them lay a line of something golden- apparently the red soil came to an end
there and the grassy plain began again. This proved to be true and shadows
had only lengthened by a half after the midday halt when the travellers were
already marching over rustling grass, shorter than before, but much thicker.
To one side of their road they saw a huge green cloud, that seemed to be
floating in the air over the blue-green patch of its own shadow-the mighty
"guest tree" was inviting them to rest in the shade of its branches. The
guides turned towards the tree. The tired travellers hastened their steps
and soon the litters were standing in the shade beside a tree-trunk, that
was divided by longitudinal depressions into separate rounded ribs.
A number of the Negroes formed a living ladder up which others climbed
to reach the huge branches of the tree. Shouts of triumph from above told
the others that they had not been mistaken in their assumptions: the
tree-trunk, some fifteen cubits in diameter, was hollow and contained water
from the recent rains. The jars were filled with cool dark-coloured water.
The Negroes threw down some of the fruits of the tree, long fruits, as big
as a man's head and tapering to a point at each end. Under its thin, hard
skin, the fruit contained a floury yellow substance, sour-sweet in taste,
that was very refreshing to the dry mouths of the travellers. Kidogo broke
open two of the fruits, took out a number of small seeds, crushed and mixed
them with a small quantity of water and started feeding Pandion with them.
To the joy of the Negro the young Hellene ate with good appetite and
for the first time that day raised his head in an effort to look round
(during the march, when he lay on the litter, Pandion's face was usually
kept covered with big leaves plucked from bushes near the water-holes). With
an effort Pandion stretched out his hands to Kidogo and his weak fingers
pressed the Negro's hand. But there was something dull and pitiful in the
young Hellene's eyes.
Kidogo was very excited and asked his young friend how he felt, but got
no answer. The wounded man's eyes again closed as though the feeble spark of
returning life had tired him beyond all measure. Kidogo left his friend in
peace and hurried to tell Cavius the good news. Cavius, who had grown still
more morose since the day of the awful battle, went over to the litter and
sat down, peering into his friend's face. By placing his hand on Pandion's
breast he tried to judge the strength of his heart-beats.
While he was sitting by Pandion, one of the Nubians, who had climbed to
the top of the tree to survey the surrounding land, let out a loud shout. He
called out that far ahead of them, almost on the horizon, he could see the
dark lines of fences of thorn-bushes such as the nomad herdsmen build to
protect their cattle from predatory animals.
It was decided, to spend the night under the tree and set out at dawn
in order to reach the nomad encampment early in the day. By sundown the
whole sky was overcast with heavy clouds; the starless night was unusually
quiet and dark; the velvet darkness was so intense that they could not see a
hand held before the face.
Very soon zigzag shafts of lightning made a ring round the whole sky
and peals of thunder came rolling from afar. The lightning flashes grew in
number, hundreds of fiery snakes twisted across the sky like the huge dry
branches of some gigantic tree. The roar of the thunder deafened them and
the lightning blinded those who sought to leave their refuge. From a great
distance came a noise that steadily increased to a fierce roar. This was an
approaching wall of violent rain. The tree shook as an entire ocean of water
poured down from the heavens. Cascades of cool rain beat on the earth with
an awful noise and a lake formed around the tree that hid its thick roots.
In the light of the solid walls of fire that alternated with absolute
darkness it seemed that the whole plain would be flooded by the great mass
of rainwater that kept pouring down on it. The flashes of lightning,
however, soon stopped, the rain died down and a starlit sky spread over the
plain; a slight breeze brought with it the odours of grasses and flowers
invisible in the darkness. The Libyans and the Etruscan were dumbfounded at
a storm which seemed like a terrible catastrophe to them, but the Negroes
laughed gleefully, telling them that it was an ordinary shower, such as are
common in the rainy season, and not a very heavy one at that. Cavius could
only shake his head, telling himself that if such rains were considered
ordinary in these parts they were likely to meet with many strange
adventures in the Land of the Black People.
And he guessed right.
Next day their journey was suddenly interrupted by the barking of dogs.
Long thorn hedges appeared through the mist, caused by the evaporation of
the previous day's rain-water, and behind the hedges they saw the low huts
of the herdsmen.
A crowd of men wearing leather aprons surrounded the travellers. Their
high-cheekboned faces were inscrutable, their narrow eyes looked with
suspicion at the Egyptian weapons carried by the former slaves. The symbol
they had received from the Nubian, however, produced a most favourable
impression. Out of the crowd stepped five men wearing black and white
feathers, their hair dressed high on their heads and held in place by
plaited twigs with green leaves.
The Nubians could understand the language of the nomads and soon the
newcomers were seated sipping sour milk within a close circle of listeners.
The Nubian slaves told their story. Interrupting each other they jumped up
and down in their excitement and their tale was greeted by a chorus of
exclamations of astonishment. The feather-bedecked chieftains merely slapped
their thighs.
The nomads provided six guides and ten asses to help the strangers on
their way. The guides were to take the travellers some seven days journey to
the south-west to the big village of a settled tribe that stood on the banks
of a river that always contained water.
The litters were remade and fixed to four asses, the other animals
carried water, sour milk and hard cheese in strong leather bags. As the men
now had no loads to carry, they could make longer journeys, covering no less
than a hundred and twenty thousand cubits a day.
Day followed day. The endless plain lay under the broiling sun, at
times silent and languid in the heat, at others swept by winds that made the
grass billow like the waves of the sea. The travellers penetrated farther
and farther into the wild lands of the south where there were countless
herds of savage beasts. Their unaccustomed eyes did not at first notice
herds of animals that flashed by in the tall grass-only their backs could be
seen above the grass or sometimes their horns, short and curved, long and
straight or twisted into a spiral. Later they learned to distinguish the
different kinds-the long-antlered oryx, the reddish bull antelope, heavy and
short in the body, the hairy gnu, with its ugly humped nose, and the
long-eared antelopes, no bigger than a small calf, that danced on their
hind-legs under the trees. (The gerenuk or Waller's antelope-a long-necked
animal that stands on its hind-legs to reach the leaves of the trees on
which it feeds.)
Coarse, hard-stemmed grass, the height of a man, waved round them on
all sides like a boundless field of corn. This expanse of grass, turned
golden in the sunlight, was broken by patches of fresh green along the
wadies and holes that were now filled with water. The blue and purple spurs
of mountains piled up beyond the horizon cut deep into the grassy plain.
At times the trees grew close together, forming a darker island in the
yellow grass, then again they would be scattered far from each other like a
flock of frightened birds. They were mostly the umbrella-shaped trees that
had so astonished Cavius when he first made the acquaintance of the golden
plain-their thorny trunks spread upwards and outwards from the roots to form
a funnel so that they looked like inverted cones. Some of the trees had
thicker and shorter trunks that also divided into a huge number of
branches-the thick, dark foliage of these latter looked like green domes.
The palms were visible from a great distance on account of their double,
forked branches with the dishevelled, knife-like feathery leaves bunched at
the ends of them.
As the days passed Cavius noticed that the Negroes and the Nubians who
had been so clumsy and slow-witted in Tha-Quem and on the Great River had
now become stronger, more resolute and confident in themselves. And although
his authority as leader was still undisputed, he began to lose confidence in
himself in this strange land with laws of life that he could not understand.
The Libyans who had shown themselves so well in the desert were
helpless here. They were afraid of the grassy plain, inhabited by thousands
of animals; they imagined countless dangers in the grass and thought they
were threatened with unknowable calamities at every step.
It was certainly no easy road to travel. They came across growths of
grass with heads containing millions of needle-like thorns* that penetrated
the skin, causing great pain and suppuration. During the hottest hours of
the day many of the beasts of prey lay hidden under the trees. The lithe
spotted body of a leopard would sometimes appear out of a patch of black
shadow that looked like a cave amongst the brightly sunlit tufts of grass.
With astonishing agility the Negroes stalked the red antelopes and
there was always an abundance of their succulent and tasty meat so that
former slaves grew strong from the nourishing food. When a herd of enormous
grey-black bulls** with long horns curving downwards appeared in the
distance, the Negroes sounded the alarm and the whole party sought cover
amongst the trees to escape the most terrible animal that inhabits the
African plains.
(* The thorny heads of ascanite grass.
**The African buffalo.)
The guides had apparently misjudged the distance: the travellers had
been on their way for nine days and there was still no sign of any human
habitation. The Libyan's arm had healed. The Negro with the broken leg had
so far recovered as to sit up in his litter and at night he hopped and
crawled around the fire to the delight of his companions who shared the joy
of his convalescence. Only Pandion still lay silent and indifferent,
although Kidogo and Cavius forced him to take more nourishment.
This being the period of the rains, the abundant life of the plains was
at its peak.
Millions of insects sang and hummed noisily in the grass; brightly-hued
birds flashed like blue, yellow, emerald-green and black-velvet apparitions
through the tangle of gnarled grey branches. The resonant cries of
diminutive bustards became more and more frequent in the heat of the
day-"mac-har, mac-har," they cried.
For the first time in his life Cavius saw the giants of Africa close at
hand.
Noiselessly and serenely the huge grey bulk of the elephants was
frequently to be seen sailing over the grass, their leathery ears extended
like sails in the direction of the travellers and the brilliant white of
their tusks contrasting sharply with the snaky black trunks that waved above
them. Cavius liked the look of the elephants, the calm wisdom of their
behaviour made them so different from the fussy antelopes, the malicious
rhinoceroses and the lithesome beasts of prey that seemed like coiled
springs. On several occasions the men had an opportunity to observe the
majestic beasts at rest: the herd stood closely packed in the shade of the
trees. The huge old bull elephants bowed their domed heads, heavy with great
tusks, while the cows, whose heads were flatter, held them high as they
stood sleeping. Once they came across a lonely old bull. The giant was
standing fast asleep in the sun. He had apparently dozed off in the shade
but the sun had moved on in its course and the old elephant, deep in
slumber, did not feel the heat. Cavius stood still for some time admiring
the mighty giant of the plains.
The elephant stood like a statue, its hind-legs somewhat apart. The
lowered trunk was coiled, the tiny eyes closed and the thin tail hung over
the sloping rump. The thick curved tusks projected menacingly in front of
him, their points far apart on either side.
In places where trees were scanty, they saw animals of strange shape.
Their long legs carried short bodies with steeply sloping backs, the
forelegs being much longer than the hinds. From their massive shoulders and
broad chests stretched an extremely long neck, which sloped forward,
surmounted by a very small head with short horns and tubular ears-giraffes
that travelled in groups from five up to a hundred. A big herd of giraffes
in the open plain was a sight never to be forgotten: it was as though a
forest of trees, inclined in one direction by the strength of the wind, was
moving from place to place in the bright sunlight, casting patches of
fantastic shadow as it went. The giraffes would move at times at a trot, at
times they galloped with a peculiar gait, bending their forelegs under them
and stretching their hinds out far behind. The bright yellow network of fine
lines on their skins, separated by big irregular black patehes, was so much
like the shadows cast by the trees that the animals were quite invisible
under them. Carefully they plucked leaves from the branches with their lips,
eating their fill, without any show of greed, their big sensitive ears
turning from side to side.
A long line of their necks was frequently to be seen above the waving
sea of tall grass-they moved slowly, their heads with their flashing black
eyes held proudly at a height of ten cubits from the ground.
The restrained movements of the giraffes were so beautiful that the
harmless animals called forth involuntary admiration.
Through the thick wall of grass the travellers sometimes heard the
malicious snorts of a rhinoceros but they had already learned how to avoid
this short-sighted animal and the possibility of meeting the monster no
longer filled the former slaves with fear.
The travellers marched in single file, treading in each other's
footsteps, only their spears and the tops of their heads, shielded from the
sun by rags and leaves, being visible above the grass on either side of the
narrow lane. The monotonous grassy plain stretched away on all sides,
seemingly endless. Grass and the burning sky followed the travellers by day,
grass came to them in their dreams at night and they began to feel that they
were lost for ever in that stifling, rustling, never-ending-vegetation. Not
until the tenth day did they see ahead of them a ridge of rocks over which
spread a bluish haze. Ascending the rocks the travellers found themselves on
a stony plateau overgrown with bushes and leafless trees whose branches
stretched up towards the sky like outstretched arms. ( Euphorbia
candelabrum-a plant related to the European euphorbia but outwardly
resembling a cactus.) Their trunks and branches were of the same venomous
green colour; the trees looked like round brushes, the bristles trimmed on
top, placed on short poles. Growths of these trees gave off a sharp, acrid
smell, their fragile branches were easily broken by the wind and from the
places where they snapped off there flowed abundant sap like thick milk,
that congealed quickly into long grey drops. The guides hurried through
these thickets since they believed that if the wind grew fresher it might
blow down these strange trees and crush anybody near them.
The plain began again beyond the thickets, but this time it was
undulating country with fresh, green grass. When the travellers reached the
summit of a hill, they were unexpectedly confronted by wide expanses of
tilled land stretching right up to a dense forest of high trees. In an
opening deep in the forest a large group of conical huts occupied a low
hill, surrounded by a massive stockade. Heavy gates, built of irregular logs
and decorated with garlands of lions' skulls hanging from the. top, stared
straight at the newcomers.
Tall, stern-looking warriors came out of the gates to meet the group of
former slaves slowly climbing the hill. The local inhabitants resembled
Nubians except that their skin was of a somewhat lighter bronze colour.
The warriors carried spears with huge heads like short swords and big
shields decorated with a black and white ornament. War clubs of ebony, very
hard and heavy, hung from their giraffe-hide girdles.
The view from the hill-top was very picturesque. Out of the golden
grass of the plain rose the abundant emerald-green vegetation of the
river-banks between which flashed the blue ribbon of the river. Bushes
surmounted by fluffy pink balls were vaguely trembling; bunches of yellow
and white flowers hung down from the trees.
Preliminary talks between the natives and the newcomers lasted a long
time. The Negro with the broken leg, who had said he belonged to this
people, served as interpreter. With the aid of a stick he hobbled over to
the warriors, making a sign to his companions to remain behind.
Cavius, the Negro with the broken leg, Kidogo, one of the Nubians and
one of the nomad guides were allowed . to enter the gates and were taken to
the house of the chief.
Those who remained without the gates waited with impatience, tormented
by uncertainty. Only Pandion was motionless and apathetic as he lay on the
litter that had been removed from the pack animals. It seemed to them all
that a long time had elapsed before the Etruscan reappeared in the gateway
accompanied by a crowd of men, women and children. The inhabitants of the
village smiled in welcoming manner, waving broad leaves and speaking
incomprehensible but friendly-sounding words.
The gates were opened and the former slaves passed between rows of big
houses whose mud walls, built in the form of a circle, were surmounted by
steep conical roofs thatched with coarse grass.
On an open space under two trees stood an especially big house with the
roof extending over the entrance. Here the chiefs had gathered to meet the
newcomers. Almost all the inhabitants of the village crowded round them,
excited by the unusual events of the day.
At the request of the paramount chief the Negro with the broken leg
again told the story of the terrible rhinoceros hunt, frequently pointing to
Pandion who still lay motionless on his litter.
With appropriate exclamations the villagers expressed their delight,
amazement and horror at this unbelievable act performed by orders of the
terrible Pharaoh of Tha-Quem.
The paramount chief rose and addressed his people in a language unknown
to the newcomers. He was answered by shouts of approval. Then the chief
walked over to the waiting travellers, waved his hand in a circle embracing
the whole village and bowed his head.
Through the interpreter Cavius thanked the chief and his people for
their hospitality. That evening the newcomers were invited to a feast to be
held in honour of their arrival.
A crowd of villagers surrounded Pandion's litter. The men gazed at him
with respect, the women with sympathy. A girl in a blue mantle walked boldly
out of the crowd and bent over the young Hellene. After his lengthy sojourn
in the hot, sunny lands of Tha-Quem and Nub, Pandion differed from his
companions only in the somewhat lighter shade of his skin which now had a
golden tone. His hair, however, had grown long and its tangled and matted
curls, together with the clear-cut features of his thin face, betrayed him
as a foreigner.
The girl, moved by pity for the handsome, helpless young hero lying on
the litter, cautiously stretched out her hand and pushed back a lock of hair
that had fallen on Pandion's forehead.
The heavy eyelids slowly opened showing eyes of a golden colour, such
as she had never before seen, and a slight shudder passed over the girl. The
eyes of the stranger did not see her, his dull glance was fixed on the
branches that waved above him.
"Iruma!" the girl's friends called to her.
Cavius and Kidogo came up, lifted the litter and carried their wounded
friend away, but the girl remained standing; with eyes lowered, she stood as
motionless and impassive as the young Hellene who had attracted her
attention.
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 VII. THE MIGHT OF THE FOREST
The most extraordinary trees towered above the thick undergrowth. Their
thin trunks, with convex transverse ribs, were crowned with flat, fan-like
platforms of short branches bearing big leaves above which projected long,
straight shoots, like green swords up to ten cubits in length. *( Lobelias)
Four of these trees, two on either side, stood at the forest edge like
sentinels, their swords raised threateningly. The travellers passed between
them, picking their way through thorn-scrub. A huge wart-hog, with long,
curved fangs and an ugly lumpy head, appeared from under the brush, grunted
angrily at the intruders and disappeared. . . .
On the very first day in the forest Cavius lost the stick on which he
had cut forty-nine notches to mark the number of days' journey; after that
they lost count of time. The huge forest, monotonous and unvarying, fixed
itself forever in Pandion's memory.
The party marched in silence, and whenever they tried to speak, their
voices reverberated noisily under the impenetrable green vault overhead. The
wide expanses of the golden plain had never given them such a feeling of the
insignificance of man; here they seemed completely lost in the depths of an
alien country. The huge stems of creeping plants, often as thick as a man's
body, spiralled round the smooth trunks of the trees, hung down from above
in huge nets and separate loops, sometimes forming a solid curtain. The
trees branched out at a tremendous height above the travellers' heads from
trunks that faded away in the grey twilight. Stretches of foul water,
covered with green slime, frequently barred their way; at times they came
across streams of dark, noiselessly flowing water. In the rare glades the
sun blinded eyes long accustomed to the gloom of the forest, and the density
of the undergrowth forced the travellers to avoid such places. Tree-ferns,
four times the height of a man, such as they had never seen before, spread
their pale-green, feathery leaves like huge wings.
(* The Cyathea and Todea (grape fern) reach a height of more than 30
ft.)
The clean-cut greyish leaves of mimosa formed a delicate pattern in the
sunbeams. Myriads of flowers-blood-red, orange, violet, white-stood out
brilliantly against the background of light green leaves of every possible
kind: big and broad, long and narrow, regular-shaped, indented and serrate.
The wild tangle of vegetation was made even more chaotic by the spirals of
creeping lianas, while everywhere long thorns stuck out to tear ruthlessly
the flesh of the traveller. These glades were filled with the constant
jabber and chatter of birds so noisy that it seemed as though all the life
of the forest was concentrated at these points.
The travellers checked up the direction of their journey by the sun and
again plunged into the twilight of the forest, finding their way along
hollows, washed out by the rain, and along river-beds and getting a fresh
orientation from the sun's rays that occasionally slanted down through the
dense foliage. The guides tried to steer clear of the glades for yet another
reason: the trees near them gave shelter to terribly dangerous insects,
deadly black wasps and huge ants. Big lichens, leathery grey excrescences
and other growths covered the tree-trunks while the high ridges of their
roots were covered in a green coat of moss. These flat roots, often as much
as five or six cubits high, branched out from the ribs of the gigantic
tree-trunks like buttresses. The whole party of nineteen men could easily
have bivouacked in the deep pits between roots that crossed over each other,
making all movement in the forest difficult; the travellers either had to
climb over them or go round them, making their way through narrow corridors.
Their feet sank into the thick carpet of half-rotten branches, leaves and
dried shoots that covered the ground. Bunches of whitish toadstools gave off
heavy odour, like that of a corpse. Their weary legs knew rest only in
places where the trees were not so high and the roots did not bar the way
and the ground was covered with soft moss. These places, however, were
densely overgrown with thorn-bushes that had to be avoided or a path had to
be cut through them, which again caused loss of time and effort. A kind of
spotted slug fell from the branches on to the bare shoulders of the
travellers and burned their skin with its poisonous slime. On rare occasions
the shadow of some animal could be discerned in the gloom of the forest; but
it disappeared so quickly and silently that the travellers were often unable
to say what kind of animal it was. At night the same profound silence
reigned to be broken only by the plaintive howl of some unknown animal and
by the raucous cries of some unknown bird.
The travellers crossed a large number of low ridges of hills but never
once reached open country devoid of trees. The forest between the ridges was
thicker than ever; the humid, heavy air of the valleys, rank with rotting
vegetation, made it difficult for the men to breathe.
When the party reached a valley in the bed of which a rapid stream of
cold water flowed between big boulders, they sat down to rest.
After that the long uphill climb began again.
For two days they continued their uphill march, the forest all the time
growing denser and darker. There were no longer any glades where food was to
be found and wind-felled trees barred their way. In order to avoid the
thorny curtain of thin resilient stems that hung down from above and the
impenetrable undergrowth of shrubs and small trees, they were forced to
crawl on all fours along the rain gullies covering the hillsides.
The hard earth crumbled under their hands and feet, but they crawled on
through this labyrinth taking their direction only from the dry gullies.
Gradually the air grew colder as though the party had penetrated into
deep and damp catacombs.
It was pitch dark by the time they reached the top of the slope and
were apparently on the edge of a plateau. There were no more rain-water
gullies, and the travellers halted for the night in order not to lose
direction. Not a star was to be seen through the dense vault of leaves.
Somewhere far above them a wind was raging. Pandion lay sleepless for a long
time, listening to the roar of the forest that reminded him of the noise of
a nearby sea. The rumble, rustle and clatter of the branches in the strong
gusts of wind merged into one mighty sound resembling the regular beating of
the surf on the shore.
Dawn came very late, the sun's rays struggling to pierce the thick
mist. At long last the invisible sun overcame the twilight of the forest,
and before the men's eyes a gloomy, oppressive scene opened up.
The black and white trunks of enormous trees, a hundred and fifty
cubits high, disappeared in a thick milky mist that completely hid their
mossy branches. Moss and lichens, sodden with water, hung down from the
trees in long dark braids and grey beards, at times waving to and fro at a
terrific height above the ground. Water that exuded from the spongy network
of twisted roots, grass and moss slopped underfoot. Dense thickets of
broad-leafed bushes hindered all progress. Big pale flowers, like
honeycombed balls, swayed gently on their long stems in the mist. ,
Black and white columns, four cubits in diameter, stood like an army in
serried ranks; the grey mist rolled round them and thin streams of water
trickled down their bark. Some of the trunks were coated with a thick growth
of sodden moss.
Nothing could be seen at a distance of more than thirty or forty cubits
in that awful forest; to make any progress the travellers had to cut a path
for themselves at the foot of those forest giants.
The piled-up barriers of fallen giants disheartened even the most
hardened travellers. The worst thing of all was the impossibility of judging
direction since there was no means of checking up.
The Negroes shivered in the cold mist, frightened by the unbelievable
might of the forest; the Libyans were completely discouraged. They all had
the feeling that they had entered the domain of the forest gods, a place
forbidden to man, from which there was no way out.
Cavius made a sign to Pandion; they armed themselves with heavy knives
and began frantically to carve a way through the wet branches. Gradually the
others began to take heart and they worked in shifts, relieving each other;
climbing over gigantic barricades of fallen trees; losing their way in their
efforts to find a path through the enormous roots and again plunging into
green thickets. The hours passed; overhead there was the same white gloom;
the water continued to drip slowly and heavily from the trees; the air did
not grow any warmer and it was only by the greyish-red hue of the mist that
they realized that evening was drawing nigh. . . .
"There's no way out in any direction!" With these words Kidogo sat down
on a root, pressing his head between his hands in despair. Two other guides
had returned earlier with similar information.
For a distance of about a thousand cubits a narrow glade stretched
across the path they had cut. Behind them stood the gloomy giant forest
through which they had been hacking their way by superhuman efforts for the
past three days. Before them stood an impenetrable growth of bamboo. The
polished, jointed stems rose to a height of twenty cubits, gracefully bowing
their thin feathery heads. The bamboo grew so thick that there was no
possibility of penetrating that dense throng of jointed stalks as straight
as spear-shafts, that stood like a solid wall before the travellers. The
polished surface of the bamboo was so hard that the travellers' bronze
knives were blunted by the first strokes. Axes or heavy swords would be
needed to attack that wall. It seemed that there was no way round the
bamboo; the glade was bounded by dense forest thickets and the stand of
bamboo stretched in both directions far into the misty distance of the
plateau.
The customary energy of the travellers had been sapped by the cold, by
insufficient food and the struggle against the awful forest; the latter part
of their journey had been too much for them. Nevertheless they could not
contemplate the possibility of having to turn back.
To get through those awful forests it was not sufficient to keep their
former general direction of south-west; it was not enough to hack and carve
their way through the dense vegetation; they also had to know where the path
could be cut. The right way could only be indicated by those who lived in
the forest. So far they had not met any people in the jungles and a search
for them might well end up on the gridirons of a cannibal barbecue.
We haven't made it! was the thought that was reflected in the faces of
all nineteen men, in their knitted brows, in their grimaces of despair and
in the mask of mute submission.
When Kidogo recovered from his first attack of despair, he threw back
his head to look up at the giant branches that stretched over the glade at a
height of a hundred cubits. Pandion went quickly over to his friend,
guessing at what was in his mind.
"Do you think it's possible to climb them?" he asked, looking at
tree-trunks that were perfectly smooth to a tremendous height above the
ground.
"We must, even if it takes us a whole day," answered Kidogo,
despondently. "We must go either forward or back, but there must be no more
guesswork, there's nothing left to eat."
"That one," said Pandion, pointing to a white-barked giant that rose
high above the glade, its crooked branches spreading like a star against the
background of the sky. "You can see a long way from that tree."
Kidogo shook his head.
"No, the trees with white or with black bark* are no good. ( Any of the
many African hardwood trees such as ebony, ironwood, Macaranga or polyscias,
all of which have either black or white bark.)
The wood is as hard as iron, you can't drive a knife into them let
alone a wooden peg. If we can find a tree with red bark and big leaves we'll
climb it."
The men spread along the glade in search of a suitable tree. Soon
somebody shouted that he had found one. The tree was lower than the iron
giants, but it stood close against the bamboo wall, rising a goad fifty
cubits above it. The travellers with the greatest difficulty cut two bamboo
stalks, split them into pegs a cubit long and made a point at one end of
each of them. Kidogo and Mpafu took heavy clubs and began driving the pegs
into the soft wood of the tree-trunk, climbing higher and higher until they
reached a liana twining round the tree in a spiral. Kidogo and his companion
belted themselves around with thin lianas, pressed their feet firmly against
the tree-trunk and, leaning far back from the tree, began climbing to a
prodigious height. Soon their bodies became tiny dark figures against the
background of heavy clouds that covered the sky. Pandion grew jealous of his
companions; they were high up above him, they could see the wide world,
while he remained below in the shadow like a reddish-blue worm such as they
met in the rain-water gullies in the forest.
He made a sudden decision and seized hold of the bamboo pegs hammered
into the tree. He merely waved his hand at Cavius' shout of warning,
scrambled quickly up the tree and reached the twining liana; he out off the
end of a thinner liana that 'hung over his head, belted it round himself and
followed Kidogo's example. He soon found that this method of climbing was
far from easy.
The liana cut into his back and the moment he relaxed the tension in
his legs, his feet slipped and he banged his knees against the coarse bark.
With the greatest difficulty Pandion climbed halfway up the tree. The tops
of the bamboos swayed beneath him in an irregular yellow sea, but it was
still a long way to climb to the first huge branches of the tree. He heard
Kidogo call from above and a strong liana with a noose at the end fell on to
his shoulder. Pandion passed the noose under his arms and those above pulled
gently on the liana, rendering him the greatest possible help. With his legs
all lacerated, tired but joyful, Pandion soon reached the bigger lower
branches. Here Kidogo and his companion had seated themselves comfortably
between two big boughs.
Pandion, from a height of eighty cubits, looked out towards the distant
horizon for the first time in many days. Bamboo thickets formed -a belt
encircling the forest on the high plateau; it stretched to the left and
right as far as the eye could see, although in width it was no more than
four or five thousand cubits. Behind the bamboo rose a low ridge of black
rocks stretching due west in a chain of sloping crags some distance from
each other. Beyond them, again, the ground began to fall gently. An endless
chain of densely wooded hills looked like solid green clouds separated by
the narrow slits of ravines filled with curling, dark mists. In these
ravines lay endless days of hungry, arduous marching through gloomy
twilight, for that was the direction in which the party had to travel.
Nowhere could they see any gap in the solid green wall over which floated
huge ragged clouds of white mist, no glade and no wide valley. It was
doubtful whether the travellers had sufficient strength left to fight their
way forward even to that visible distance. Farther, beyond the twilight
gloom of the horizon, they might be faced with the same all over again, and,
if so, it spelt certain death Kidogo turned away from the countryside that
rolled away beneath him, catching Pandion's glance as he did so. The Hellene
saw alarm and great weariness in the dilated eyes of his friend; Kidogo's
inexhaustible vitality had gone, his face was wrinkled in a bitter grimace.
"We must look back," said Kidogo in a dismal voice; he suddenly
straightened up and walked along a branch that stretched horizontally high
above the bamboo.
With difficulty Pandion restrained a cry of fear, but the Negro walked
on swaying slightly, as though it were nothing at all, until he reached the
end of the branch, making the leaves tremble and the bough bend downwards
under his weight. Pandion sat dead still with fright as-Kidogo sat down with
his legs astride the branch, held himself firmly by grasping thinner
branches and began to study the country beyond the right-hand corner of the
glade. Pandion did not dare follow 'his friend. Holding their breath he and
Mpafu awaited Kidogo's report. The other sixteen men of the party, almost
invisible to those on the tree, were eagerly following all their movements.
For a long time Kidogo sat swaying on the springy branch and then,
without a word, returned to the tree-trunk.
"It's a bad thing not to know the way," he said sorrowfully. "We could
have got here much more easily. Over there," the Negro waved his hand to the
north-west, "the grassy plain isn't far from us. We should have gone farther
to the right instead of entering the forest. . . . We must go back to the
grasslands. Perhaps there are people there; there are usually more people
near the forest edge than there are in the forest itself or out in the
plains."
The descent from the tree proved much more difficult and dangerous than
the ascent. If it had not been for the help of his companions, Pandion would
never have been able to descend so quickly, or, far more likely, he would
have fallen and been killed. He had no sooner put his feet on solid ground
than his knees gave way under him and he lay spread-eagled on the ground
amidst the shouts and laughter of his companions. Kidogo told the others
what he had seen from the treetop and proposed setting off at right angles
to the path they had mapped out. To Pandion's great surprise not a single
word of protest was raised, although everybody realized that they had
suffered defeat in their battle with the forest and that they would probably
be detained a long time. Even the stubborn Etruscan, Cavius, was silent,
apparently because he realized how the men had suffered in that hard but
futile struggle.
Pandion remembered that at the beginning of their journey Kidogo had
said that the way round the forest was a long and dangerous one. Strong
savage tribes, for whom the nineteen travellers did not constitute a serious
force, lived along the rivers and on the verge of the forest. . . .
Grassland, with low trees growing at regular intervals like a planted
orchard, sloped down to a fast river, with black rocks huddled together on
its far bank. The river had piled up a long barrier of drift-wood against
the rocks-tree-trunks, branches and reeds, dried and whitened in the sun.
The party of former slaves skirted a palm grove that had been smashed
by elephants and made camp under a low tree. The aroma of the resin that
seeped out of its trunk and monotonous rustling of the rags of silky bark,
brought drowsiness to the weary travellers.
Kidogo suddenly rose to his knees; his companions, too, were
immediately on the alert. A huge elephant was approaching the river. Its
appearance might bode no good for them. They watched the loose, sweeping
gait of the animal that seemed to be waddling unhurriedly along inside its
own thick skin. The elephant drew nearer, carelessly waving its trunk, and
there was something in its behaviour that differed greatly from the usual
caution of those sensitive beasts. Suddenly human voices rang out, but the
elephant did not even raise its huge ears that lay back on its head. The
bewildered travellers looked at each other and stood up only to fall down to
the ground immediately, as though they had been ordered to do so; alongside
the elephant they noticed a number of human figures. Only then did Pandion's
companions notice a man lying on the elephant's broad neck, his head rested
on his crossed arms on top of the animal's head. The elephant went straight
to the river and entered the water, stirring up the mud with its huge
tree-trunks of legs. It suddenly spread out its ears which made its head
seem three times the normal size. Its tiny brown eyes stared into the depths
of the river. The man lying on the elephant's back sat up and slapped the
animal sharply on its sloping skull. A loud shout "Heya!" resounded up and
down the river. The elephant waved its trunk, seized with it a big log from
amongst the drift-wood, lifted it high over its head and hurled it into the
water. The heavy log made a big splash and disappeared under the water to
reappear farther downstream a few moments later. The elephant threw a few
more logs into the water and then, stepping cautiously, walked out to the
middle of the river, turned round with its head against the current and
stood still.
The people who had come with the elephant-there were eight of them,
brown-skinned youths and girls- with loud shouts and roars of laughter
plunged into the cold river. They played in the water ducking each other,
and their laughter and loud slaps delivered on wet bodies resounded clearly
on all sides.
The man on the elephant shouted merrily but watched the river
unceasingly, from time to time making the elephant throw heavy logs into the
water.
The travellers watched what was happening in the greatest astonishment.
The friendship between people and the enormous elephant was something
unbelievable, an unheard of miracle; still, at a distance of no more than
three hundred cubits from them, stood the huge, grey monster, submitting to
the will of man. How could it have happened that an animal without equal in
size and strength, the undisputed ruler of field and forest, had become
subservient to weak and fragile man, an insignificant creature compared with
the mass of the elephant, six cubits high at the shoulders? Who were these
people who had tamed the lord of the African plains?
Cavius' eyes were gleaming as he nudged Kidogo. The latter turned from
watching the merry play of the young people and whispered in Cavius' ear:
"I heard about this when I was a boy. I was told that somewhere along
the line where the forest meets the plain there are people known as the
Elephant People. Now I see for myself that the story was a true one. That
elephant is standing there to protect the bathers from crocodiles. . . . I
have also heard that these people are related to my tribe and speak a
language similar to ours...
"Do you want to go to them?" asked Cavius thoughtfully, never for a
moment taking his eyes off the man on the elephant.
"I'd like to, but I don't know..." stammered Kidogo. "If their tongue's
mine, they'll understand us and we'll have a chance to find the road we
need. If they speak another tongue, things will go badly with us-they'll
destroy us like mice!"
"Do they eat human flesh?" asked Cavius after a pause.
"I have heard that they don't. They're a rich and powerful people,"
answered the Negro, chewing a blade of grass to hide his indecision.
"I'd try to find out what language they speak while they are here, to
avoid going to their village," said Cavius. "These people are only unarmed
youngsters and if the man on the elephant attacks us, we can hide in the
grass and bushes. In their village we'd all be killed if we didn't come to
an agreement with the Elephant People. . . ."
Kidogo liked Cavius' advice. He stood up, displaying his full height,
and walked slowly towards the river. A shout from the man on the elephant
put a sudden stop to the fun in the water; the bathers stood still, up to
their waists in water, looking at the opposite bank.
The elephant turned menacingly in the direction of the approaching
Kidogo; his trunk made a rustling noise as it waved over the long, white
tusks, and its ears, like huge, pendant wings, spread out again. The man on
the elephant's back looked fixedly at the newcomer; in his right hand he
held a broad knife with a hook at the end that trembled slightly as he
raised it, ready to use it.
Without a word Kidogo walked almost to the edge of the water, laid his
spear on the ground, placed his foot on it, and spread out his weaponless
arms.
"Greetings, friend," he said slowly, carefully pronouncing every word.
"I am here with my companions. We are lonely fugitives on our way home. We
want to ask for help from your tribe..."
The man on the elephant remained silent. The travellers hiding under
the tree waited with bated breath to see whether the man would understand
Kidogo's speech or not. An important turning point in the fate of the
fugitives depended on what was to follow.
The man on the elephant slowly lowered his knife. The elephant shifted
its weight from one foot to another in the swirling water and lowered its
trunk, allowing it to hang between its tusks. Suddenly the man spoke and a
sigh of relief burst from Pandion's breast, while a shudder of joy ran
through Kidogo who was standing with his body tensely strained. The speech
of the elephant driver contained strong stresses and sibilant sounds that
were not to be heard in Kidogo's melodious language, but even Pandion
recognized some familiar words.
"Where are you from, stranger?" came the question that seemed arrogant
from the height of the elephant's back. "And where are your companions?"
Kidogo explained that they had been captives in Tha-Quem and were
making their way back home, to the sea coast. The Negro beckoned the others
and the whole party of nineteen, downcast and emaciated, came down to the
river-bank.
"Tha-Quem?" repeated the man on the elephant, pronouncing the syllables
with difficulty. "What's that? Where is that country?"
Kidogo told of the powerful country that stretched along a mighty river
in the north-east, and the elephant driver nodded his head understandingly.
"I've heard of it, but it's a terribly long way away. How could you
have come so far?" There was a note of mistrust in the man's words.
"That is a long story," answered Kidogo wearily. "Look at these men."
The Negro pointed to Cavius, Pandion and the group of Libyans. "Have you
ever seen anybody like them near here?"
With a look of interest the man on the elephant examined faces such as
he had never before seen. The distrust gradually faded from his face; he
slapped the elephant's head with his hand.
"I am too young to decide anything without the elders. Come over to our
bank of the river while the elephant is still in the water and wait there.
What shall I tell the chiefs about you?"
"Tell them that weary travellers ask permission to rest in your village
and find out the way to the sea. We need nothing more," answered Kidogo
laconically.
"Never have we heard such things or seen such people," mused the
elephant driver. Turning to his own people, he shouted: "You go ahead, I'll
follow!"
The young people, who had been studying the newcomers in silence,
hurried obediently to the bank, looking back and talking amongst themselves.
The driver turned his elephant so that it stood sideways across the stream.
The travellers crossed the river, breast high in the water. Then the driver
made his animal set out at a smart pace and, following the bathers, soon
disappeared amongst the scanty trees. The former slaves sat down on big
stones to await their fate with some trepidation. The Libyans were more
worried than the others, although Kidogo assured them that the Elephant
People would not do them any harm.
Shortly after this four elephants appeared, coming across the fields,
with wide platforms of plaited branches on their backs. Six warriors armed
with bows and exceptionally broad spears sat on each of the platforms. Under
this escort the former slaves reached the village which proved to be quite
close to the meeting place, on a bend of the same river, some four thousand
cubits to the south-west.
There were about three hundred huts dotted amongst green trees on a
hilly site.
To the left of the village spread an open forest, and some distance to
the right of it stood a huge palisade of gigantic logs with pointed tops,
solidly buttressed on the outside with other logs. Around this structure
there was a deep moat fenced with a second palisade of pointed logs. Pandion
expressed surprise at the size of the structure, but Kidogo made a guess
that this was the pen for the elephants.
Just as they had done many days ago in the east, the travellers stood
before the chiefs and elders of a big village; again and again they told
their marvellous tale of insurgent slaves to which the great feat of a long
journey through an unknown land was now added. The chiefs questioned the
travellers closely, examined their weapons and the brand of Pharaoh on their
backs and made Cavius and Pandion tell them about their countries to the
north of the distant sea.
Pandion was astonished at the extensive knowledge of these people; they
had not only heard of the Land of Nub, where the travellers had come from,
but they also knew many other places in Africa in the north, south, east and
west.
Kidogo was delighted. The local inhabitants would show him the way to
his home and the wanderers would soon reach their goal by following the true
road.
A short meeting of the Council of Elders decided the fate of the
newcomers: they were to be permitted to rest for a few days in the village
and would be given food and shelter in accordance with the sacred laws of
hospitality.
The former slaves were given a big hut on the outskirts of the village
where they could enjoy a good rest. They were still more encouraged by the
fact that the Elephant People would show them the right way and that their
wanderings were coming to an end.
Pandion, Kidogo and Cavius wandered about the village, observing the
life of the people who had won their admiration by their power over the
gigantic animals. Pandion was astounded by the long fences of elephant tusks
where cattle were impounded. ( Amongst the Shilluks, on the upper reaches of
the Nile, fences of elephant tusks were still to be met with in the middle
of the 19th century.)
It seemed to Pandion that this was a display of deliberate contempt for
the terrible monsters. What number of tusks must these people possess if
they could waste the valuable ivory on such things? When Pandion asked this
question of one of the villagers, the latter very importantly suggested that
he ask the chiefs for permission to see the big storehouse in the centre of
the village.
"So many tusks are stacked there," said the man, pointing to an open
space between two huts, a hundred and fifty cubits in length, and he raised
a stick above his head to indicate the height of the stack of tusks.
"How do you make the elephants obey you?" asked Pandion, unable to
repress his curiosity.
The man frowned and looked at him with suspicion.
"That's kept secret from strangers," he answered slowly. "Ask the
chiefs about it, if you want to know. Those who wear round their necks a
gold chain with a red stone in it are the elephant trainers."
Pandion remembered then that they had been forbidden to approach the
compound bounded by the moat, and said no more, annoyed with himself for the
mistake he had made. At that moment Kidogo called him; the Negro was in a
long shed where several men were working. Pandion saw that it was a potter's
shop where potters were busy making big earthenware pots for grain and beer.
Kidogo could not retain himself. . . . He took a big lump of moist,
well-kneaded clay, squatted on his heels, lifted his eyes to the
reed-thatched roof and then began modelling. His big strong hands longed to
be back at their favourite work and his movements were full of confidence.
Pandion watched his friend at work; the potters laughed amongst themselves
but did not cease their work. The Negro's competent hands slowly cut,
squeezed and smoothed the soft clay until the formless mass began to take on
the shape of the wide, sloping back with folds of skin hanging like sacks
from the shoulders that are typical of the elephant. The potters soon ceased
their chatter, left their pots and gathered around Kidogo, but the Negro was
so engrossed in his work that he did not even notice them.
The thick legs stood firmly on the ground, the elephant had raised its
head with its trunk extended in front of it. Kidogo found some twigs which
he stuck fanwise into the clay and on this framework moulded the elephant's
ears, stretched like sails on either side. Exclamations of admiration burst
from the lips of the watchers. One of the potters, unobserved, left the
shed.
Kidogo was working on the animal's hind-legs and did not notice that
the throng of watchers had been joined by one of the chiefs, an old man with
a long thin neck, a fleshy, hooked nose and a tiny grey beard. On the
chief's breast Pandion saw the gold chain of one of the chief elephant
trainers.
In silence the old man watched Kidogo finish his work. Kidogo stood
back and rubbed the clay off his hands, smiling and critically examining the
model of an elephant a cubit high. The potters treated him to cries of
admiration. The old chief raised his thick brows and the noise stopped
immediately. He touched the wet clay like one who knew the business and then
made a sign to Kidogo to come to him.
"I see you must be a great craftsman," said the chief, giving his words
great significance, "if you can do so easily something that not one of our
men can do. Tell me, can you make a statue of a man and not only of an
elephant?" And the chief tapped himself on the breast.
Kidogo shook his head. The chief's face grew dark.
"But there's a craftsman amongst us who is better than I, a craftsman
from a distant northern country," said Kidogo. "He can make your statue."
The Negro pointed at Pandion who was standing nearby.
The old man repeated his question to Pandion, who, seeing the imploring
eyes of his friend, agreed.
"But I must tell you, chief," said Pandion, "that in my country we make
statues from soft stone or carve them from wood. I have neither tools nor
stone here. I can only make your statue from this clay and up to here." He
passed his hand across his chest. "The clay will soon dry up and crack; your
picture will last only a few days. . . ."
The chief smiled.
"I want to see what the stranger craftsman can do," he said. "And let
our potters watch him."
"All right, I'll try," answered Pandion. "But you must sit before me
while I work."
"What for?" asked the astonished chief. "Can't you model the clay like
he did?" And the old man pointed to Kidogo.
Pandion was put out by this and tried to find words to answer him.
"I just made an elephant," put in Kidogo. "But you, who are a trainer
of elephants, know that one elephant does not resemble another. Only a man
who does not know them thinks that all elephants are alike."
"You speak the truth," the chief agreed. "I see immediately the soul of
any elephant and I can forecast his behaviour."
"That's just it," Kidogo took him up. "If I want to make a particular
elephant, I must see him before my eyes. My friend's the same; he's not
going to make just a man, he's going to make you, and he must look at you
while he's working."
"I understand," said the old man. "Let your friend come to me during
the afternoon siesta and I'll sit before him."
The chief went away and the potters placed the clay elephant on a bench
where ever-increasing numbers of villagers came to admire it.
"Well, Pandion," said Kidogo to his friend, "our fate is in your hands.
If the chief is pleased with your statue, the Elephant People will help us.
. . ."
The young Hellene nodded his head and the two friends returned to their
house, with a crowd of children close on their heels.
"Can you talk to me?" asked the chief, taking his place on a high and
uncomfortable seat, while Pandion was hurriedly arranging the clay the
potters had brought on a block of wood. "Will it interrupt your work?"
"I can, but I don't know your language very well," answered Pandion. "I
shall not understand everything you say and must answer with few words."
"Then call your friend, the man from the seaboard forests; let him stay
here with you. I'll soon get tired of sitting silent like an inarticulate
monkey!"
Kidogo came and sat with his legs tucked up under him beside the
chief's chair, between Pandion and the old man. With the Negro's help the
chief and Pandion were able to converse quite freely. The chief asked
Pandion about his country and his penetrating glance gave Pandion a feeling
of confidence in the elephant trainer, a wise man who had seen much.
Pandion told the chief about his life in his own country, about Thessa,
about his voyage to Crete, his slavery in Tha-Quem and his intention of
returning home. As he spoke his fingers moulded the clay, and Kidogo
translated what he said. The sculptor worked with unusual inspiration and
persistence. The statue of the chief seemed to him to be a finger-post
pointing to the haven of his native land. Memories of the past gave rise to
impatience, and the enforced stay with the Elephant People already began to
pall.
The old man sighed and began to fidget, apparently he was tired.
"Say something in your own language," the chief suddenly asked.
"To ellnuiksou ellevthepoy !" exclaimed Pandion.
These were the words that his grandfather loved to repeat when he told
the boy stories of famous Greek-heroes; they sounded strange when uttered in
the heart of Africa.
"What did you say?" asked the chief.
Pandion explained that those words expressed the dream of all the
people of his country-"Whatever is Hellenic is free!"
These words apparently gave the chief food for thought.. Kidogo
mentioned discreetly to Pandion that the chief was tired and that what he
had done would be enough for that day.
"Yes, that's enough!" exclaimed the elephant trainer, raising his head.
"Come tomorrow. How many days more will it take?"
"Three days," said Pandion confidently, despite the signs of warning
that Kidogo made to him.
"Three days, that's not too much, I can bear that," agreed the old man
and rose from his seat.
Pandion and Kidogo covered the clay with a damp cloth and put it into a
storeroom close to the chief's house.
On the second day the two friends told the chief about Tha-Quem, its
might and its colossal buildings. The old chief frowned, he was hurt by the
stories of the people of Aigyptos, but still he listened with interest. When
Pandion told him of the narrow, monotonous world of the Egyptians, the chief
brightened up.
"Now it's time you learned something about my people," he said
importantly. "You'll take news of them to your own distant countries."
The chief told the friends how they made use of the strength of the
elephants to make long journeys throughout the country. The only danger that
threatened them was the possibility of meeting herds of wild elephants; a
tame elephant might, at any moment, decide to return to its wild brethren.
But there were certain ways of preventing even that.
The chief told them that farther to the east and the south of the place
where the former slaves lived as the guests of an hospitable people, beyond
the swamps and mountains, there were big freshwater seas. The seas were so
big that they could only be crossed on special boats and that the crossing
took several days. These freshwater seas* formed a long chain, one after the
other, running in a southerly direction, and were surrounded by mountains
that belched smoke, flames and rivers of fire. ( The freshwater seas-the
great lakes of East Africa). Beyond these seas, however, there was dry land,
high plateaux with numerous wild animals, while the real edge of the earth,
the shore of the endless sea, lay still farther to the east, beyond a fringe
of swamps.
On the plateaux stood two gigantic, blindingly white mountains, not
very far from each caber, the beauty of which cannot be conceived by a man
who has not seen them for himself. (Mounts Kenya and Kilimanjaro, two of the
highest peaks on the African continent.)
These mountains, he said, were surrounded by dense jungles inhabited by
savage peoples and mysterious animals of an ancient type that were very rare
and quite impossible to describe. The Elephant People had seen canyons
filled with the bones of huge animals mixed with the bones of human beings
and fragments of their stone weapons. In the thickets that surround the
northernmost white mountain there were wild boars as big as a rhinoceros,
and once they had seen an animal there as big as an elephant and much
heavier, with two horns placed side by side at the end of its jowl.
People lived in floating villages ( Villages built on huge rafts are
still to be seen on the great East African lakes) on the freshwater seas
where they could not be reached by their enemies; these were savage people
who gave no quarter to anybody.
Pandion asked the chief how far to the south the land of Africa ran and
whether it was true that there the sun was again lower.
The old man livened up at this question. It turned out that he had
commanded a big expedition to the south when he had been less than forty
years old. They went on twenty selected elephants for gold and for the
precious grass of the southern plains that gives strength to the aged and
health to the sick.
Beyond the great river ( The Zambezi with the Victoria Falls.) that
flows from west to east, where there are giant waterfalls and a permanent
rainbow plays in the high columns of spray, there are endless blue grass
plains. Along the fringes of these grassy plains, along the seacoast, in the
west and in the east, there are mighty trees whose leaves seem to be made
from polished metal and glitter in the sun like a million mirrors.
The grass and leaves in the south, said the old man, are not green but
grey, pale blue and dove-coloured, which makes the country look strange and
cold. It is true, too, that the farther you go to the south the colder
becomes the climate. The period of the rains, he added, which coincides with
our dry season, is unbearably cold for northern people.
The old man told Pandion about an extraordinary silver tree that is
found in the mountain gorges far to the south. The tree grows to a height of
thirty cubits, has thin bark with transverse wrinkles, many branches covered
with leaves shine like silver and are as soft as down; the tree, he said, is
possessed of a magic beauty that charms all who see it.
Barren stony mountains, he continued, rose up like gigantic purple
towers with vertical walls, at the foot of which crouched twisted trees,
covered with large bunches of bright red flowers.
On the barren parts of the plain and the stony slopes of the hills
ugly, twisted bushes and low trees grew.
( Various kinds of aloe-trees from the Liliaceae family, also
dragon-trees.)
Their fleshy leaves, filled with poisonous sap, were attached like
outspread fingers to the ends of twin branches that shot straight up into
the air. Other trees had the same sort of leaves, reddish in colour, growing
in the form of a cap curving downwards at the end of a curved stem, four
cubits high, on which there were no branches.
Near the rivers and on the fringe of the forests, there were the ruins
of ancient buildings made of huge dressed stones, apparently the work of a
powerful and highly skilled people. "Today," said the old chief, "there is
nobody living in the vicinity of these ruins except the dangerous wild dogs
that howl there in the moonlight. Nomad herdsmen and poor hunters wander the
plains. Still farther to the south there are people with light grey skins,
who have huge herds of cattle, but the expedition of the Elephant People did
not go so far." ( Tribes of the Hottentot type were much more widespread in
times of antiquity than at present. There is some reason to believe them
related to the ancient Egyptians.)
Pandion and Kidogo listened avidly to the old chief's stories. His tale
of the blue plains seemed like fancy interwoven with fact, but still the old
man's voice sounded convincing; he frequently stared into the distance, his
eyes flashing with excitement, and it seemed to Pandion that pictures of the
past, retained in his memory, were passing before the old man's eyes.
Suddenly the chief broke off.
"You've stopped working," he said, "and I'll have to sit before you for
many more days!"
Pandion hurried although it did not seem as though haste were
essential; he felt that the old chief's bust was more successful than
anything he had ever done before. He had acquired his skill gradually and
imperceptibly, despite all he had gone through; his tremendous experience
and his observations in Aigyptos stood him in good stead.
On the third day Pandion compared his bust with the face of the chief
several times.
"It's ready," he said with a profound sigh.
"Have you finished?" asked the chief and, seeing that Pandion nodded in
confirmation, got up and went over to his portrait.
Kidogo looked in admiration at Pandion's work, scarcely able to
restrain words of approval.
The clay, despite its uniform colour, had taken on all typical features
of that stern, wise and imperious face, with its firm, protruding jaws, its
wide, sloping forehead, heavy lips and thick nose with distended nostrils.
The old man turned to the house and called out softly.
His call was answered by one of his wives, a young woman, with a large
number of tiny plaits cut short like a fringe on her forehead. She gave the
chief a mirror of polished silver, obviously northern work, that had got
into the centre of Africa by some unknown ways.
The chief held the mirror at arm's length against the cheek of the
statue and began to compare his reflection with Pandion's work.
Pandion and Kidogo awaited the old man's judgement. The chief was
silent for a long time, and then he put down the mirror and said:
"Great is the power of man's ability. . . . You, stranger, possess this
ability more than anybody in our country. You have made me better than I
am-that means that you think well of me. I'll pay you in your own coin. What
reward do you want?"
Kidogo gave Pandion a push, but the young Hellene answered the chief
with words that seemed to come from his very heart.
"Everything I own you see before you. I have nothing but the spear that
was given to me..." Pandion stammered and continued jerkily: "I need nothing
here in a strange land. I have my own country; it is far away but still it
is my greatest treasure. Help me get back home."
The elephant trainer placed his hand on the Hellene's shoulder with a
paternal gesture.
"I want to talk with you again, come tomorrow with your friend. Now
we'll finish this off. I'll order our potters to dry the clay so that it
will never crack. I want to keep this picture of myself. They'll take out
the surplus clay from inside and will cover it with a special pitch -they
know how. The only thing I don't like is the blind eyes. Can you put some
stones in them that I'll give you?"
Pandion agreed to this. The old man called to his wife again; this time
she brought out a casket covered with a Leopard skin.
The chief took a fairly big bag out of the box and shook out on to his
hand a heap of big, faceted stones, oval in shape arid as transparent as
water. The unusually brilliant glitter of the stones attracted Pandion's
attention; each stone seemed to concentrate in itself the full power of the
sunlight, at the same time remaining cold, transparent and pure. (Diamonds.)
"I've always wanted to have such eyes," said the chief, "so that they
would concentrate the light of life but themselves would never change.
Select the best of them and put them into the bust."
The young sculptor obeyed him. The portrait of the chief acquired an
aspect that defies description. The iridescent stones gleamed in place of
eyes in the wet, grey clay; their gleam filled the face with magic life. The
contrast had at first seemed unnatural to Pandion but later it filled him
with amazement. The more he looked the greater the harmony he found in the
combination of transparent eyes and the dark clay of the sculptured face.
The elephant trainer was very pleased.
"Take these stones as a souvenir, stranger craftsman!" exclaimed the
chief and poured a number of them into Pandion's hand. Some of them were
bigger than a plum-stone in size. "These stones come from the southern
plains and are found in the rivers there. There's nothing in the world
that's harder or purer than these stones. When you're back in your distant
land, you can show people the marvels of the south acquired by the Elephant
People."
Pandion thanked the old man and went away, hiding the gift in the bag
that held Yakhmos' stone.
"Don't forget, come tomorrow!" the chief called after him.
Back in their hut the former slaves talked excitedly about what would
happen as a result of the success that attended Pandion's work. Their hopes
in the early continuance of their journey were strengthened. It seemed that
there was every reason to expect the Elephant People would let them go and
show them the true road.
At the appointed hour Pandion and Kidogo appeared at the house of the
chief. The old man beckoned to them to come up. They sat at the feet of the
elephant trainer, hiding their excitement with difficulty.
For some time the chief sat in silence and when he spoke he addressed
them both at once.
"I've taken counsel with the other chiefs and they agree with me. Half
a moon from now, after the grand hunt, we shall be sending a big expedition
to the west for Coaling nuts and for gold. Six elephants will go through the
forest and farther to the upper reaches of a big river, seven days march
from here. Give me that stick," said the chief to Pandion.
The old man drew the outlines of a big gulf where the sea cut deep into
dry land, and Kidogo gave a faint cry. The chief drew a wavy line to
indicate a river with two branches at its head and placed a cross in a
junction of the waterways.
"The elephants will go this far, you'll follow them and will pass
easily through the forest. From there you'll have to go alone, but it will
take you five days more to reach the sea. . . ."
"O father and -prince!" exclaimed the excited Kidogo, "you are our
saviour. That river flows within the bounds of my country, and I know the
plateau where the gold is found. . . ." The Negro jumped up in ecstasy.
"I know," continued the old chief, with a somewhat supercilious smile,
"I know your people and your country and was at one time acquainted with one
of your strongest chiefs, Yorumefu."
"Yorumefu!" exclaimed Kidogo. "He's my mother's brother!"
"Good," said the chief, interrupting Kidogo. "You will give him my
greetings. Have you understood everything I've told you?" Without waiting
for an answer he finished by saying, "Now I want to speak to your friend."
The chief turned to Pandion. "I feel that you'll become a great man in your
own country if you succeed in returning home. Ask me whatever you will and I
will answer you." "For a long time I've been thinking of asking you how you
subdue the elephants," said Pandion. "Or perhaps it's a secret," he added
doubtfully.
"The training of elephants is a secret to fools alone," smiled the old
chief, "Any man of wisdom can easily guess how it's done. . . . Apart from
the secret, however, it implies hard and dangerous work and unlimited
patience. Brains aren't sufficient, there's real hard work as well. There
are but few tribes in this land that possess the three qualities my people
have-intellect, industry and unbounded courage. You must understand,
stranger, that a full-grown elephant cannot be trained. We catch them when
they're still quite young. A young elephant is trained for ten years. Ten
years of persistent labour are required for the elephant to begin to
understand the commands given him by man and to do the necessary work."
"Ten years!" exclaimed the astounded Pandion.
"Yes, not a moment less, that is, if you have correctly judged the
character of the elephant. And if you make a mistake you will not manage the
task even in fifteen years. There are stubborn animals and stupid ones
amongst the elephants. And then, you must not forget that the capture of
young elephants is a matter of great danger. We have to capture them with
our own hands, without the aid of trained elephants because they may go back
to join the herd. The trained elephants help us when the herd has been
driven off and the youngsters are made fast. Several of our bravest men are
always killed during an elephant hunt." The old chief's voice took on a note
of sorrow. "Tell me, have you seen the exercises that our young warriors
perform? You have. 'Good. These exercises are also necessary training in the
art of elephant hunting."
On several occasions Pandion had seen the unusual games played by the
Elephant People. The warriors planted two high posts on a level open space
and fixed a bamboo cross-piece between them at a height of about five cubits
from the ground.
They would then take a long run, make a peculiar sort of sideways leap
into the air and fly over the cross-bar. The jumper's body would double up,
almost in two, and fly into the air with the right side forward in the
direction of the jump. Pandion had never before seen anybody jump so high.
Some of the best jumpers could leap to a height of almost six cubits.
Pandion was filled with astonishment at the great skill of the Elephant
People but could not understand what use they could put this ability to. The
words of the stern old chief did something to explain the significance of
these exercises.
After a short pause the chief continued in a louder' voice:
"Now you see how difficult a matter it is. There are other tribes that
hunt elephants. They kill them with heavy spears hurled down from trees,
drive them into pits or creep up to them when they are asleep in the forest.
I'll do this for you." The old chief slapped himself on the knee. "I'll
order the elephant hunters to take you with them on; the next hunt. It will
be soon, before our expedition leaves for the western forests. Do you want
to witness the glory and the torment of my people?"
"I do and I thank you, chief. And may my companions go with me?"
"All of you would be too many. Invite one or two to go with you, more
would hamper our hunters."
"Then let my two friends go with me-he can go," Pandion indicated
Kidogo, "and one other. . . ."
"You mean the morose-looking man with the thick beard?" asked the
chief, meaning Cavius; the young Hellene affirmed the correctness of his
supposition.
"I also want to have a talk with him, tell him to come to me," said the
old man. "I suppose you're in a hurry to tell your companions that we are
willing to help them. When we appoint the day of the hunt you will be
informed." The old chief dismissed the two friends with a gesture.
To the menacing rumble of tom-toms the tribesmen assembled for the
hunt. Some of them were mounted on elephants, loaded with ropes, food and
water, the remainder went on foot. Pandion, Kidogo and Cavius, armed with
their heavy spears, joined the latter party. Two hundred hunters crossed the
river and set out across the plains in a northerly direction, making for a
range of bare stony hills faintly visible in the blue haze above the
horizon. The hunters moved so fast that even such experienced walkers as our
three friends had difficulty in keeping pace with them.
The ground that lay to the south and east of the range of hills was
perfectly flat, with huge expanses of level, burnt-up grassland. The wind
raised clouds of dust over the yellow plain, obscuring the dull greenery of
the trees and bushes. The nearer cliffs were clearly visible, but the rocks
beyond them were almost hidden by a greyish-blue mist. Steep rounded peaks
jutted up like the skulls of gigantic, phantom elephants; while the lower
rocks were hunched up like the backs of huge crocodiles.
The Elephant People spent the night under the southern end of the chain
of rocks and at dawn moved off along their eastern slope. Over the plain
ahead of them hung a reddish mirage in which quivered the diffused
silhouettes of trees. An extensive swamp spread away to the north. A young
man left the hunting party and ordered the three strangers to follow him up
the rocky ridge.
Cavius, Pandion and Kidogo climbed up to a ledge two hundred cubits
higher than the surrounding plain. Over their heads rose a sheer stone
precipice that breathed intense heat, its bright yellow surface scored by
the zigzags of numerous cracks. The hunter led the friends to another ledge
that overlooked the swamp, ordered them to take cover behind tufts of coarse
grass and stones, made a sign implying silence and left them.
For a long time the three friends lay still under the blazing sun, not
daring to say a word. Not a sound came from the valley that spread out below
them.
Suddenly from the left faint squelchy noises came floating towards
them, growing louder as they drew nearer. From behind his stone Pandion
looked out cautiously through the scarcely moving grass and held his breath.
The dark grey cloud of thousands of elephants covered the swamp. The
huge animals were crossing it diagonally from the side of the rocks and,
passing over the boundary between swamp and grassland, were making for the
south-east.
The bodies of the animals stood cut clearly against the yellowish-grey
grass. They were moving in herds with anything from a hundred to five
hundred head in each, herd following herd with a short interval between
them. Each herd formed a solid mass of animals pressed close against each
other; viewed from above, it looked like the movement of a grey island whose
surface, undulating with hundreds of backs, was scarred by the white streaks
of the tusks.
In the swampy places the herd stretched out in a thin line. Some of the
elephants left the herd, ran to one side and stood there spreading their
great ears and placing their hind-legs apart in a funny way; they soon,
however, rejoined the general stream.
Some of them, mostly the huge bulls, moved unhurriedly, their heads and
ears lowered; others advanced gravely, holding the forepart of the body high
and crisscrossing their hind-legs; a third kind waddled along sideways,
their thin tails jutting up above them. Tusks of the most varied shapes and
sizes-some short, others so long that they almost reached the ground, some
curved upwards and others quite straight-flashed white against the grey
background.
Kidogo brought his lips close to Pandion's ear. "The elephants are
moving towards the swamps and rivers," he said. "The grasslands are burnt
up." "Where are the hunters?" Pandion asked. "They are waiting in hiding for
a herd that contains a lot of young elephants; such herds are always at the
end. You can see there are only full-grown elephants here."
"Why is it some elephants have long tusks and others short?"
"The short ones are broken."
"Fighting amongst themselves?"
"I have bean told that elephants rarely fight amongst themselves. They
mostly break their tusks when they pull up trees. They use their tusks to
overturn trees so that they can eat the fruits, leaves and thin twigs. The
forest elephants have much stronger tusks than the plains elephants; that's
why hard ivory goes to the markets from the forests and soft ivory from the
plains."
"Are these forest or plains elephants?"
"They're plains elephants. Look for yourself." Kidogo pointed to an old
elephant that was hanging back not far from the rocks where the friends were
hiding.
The grey giant, knee-high in the grass, turned directly towards the
watching friends. Its ears were spread out widely on either side, their skin
stretched taut like sails. The elephant lowered its head. This movement
brought the animal's sloping forehead forward, deep pits appeared between
the eyes and the crown of the head, and the whole head took on the
appearance of a heavy pillar that tapered towards the bottom, unnoticeably
changing to the vertically pendant trunk. Deep transverse folds, like dark
rings, marked the trunk at regular intervals. At the base of the trunk two
tubes jutted out at a sharp angle on either side, from which very short and
thick tusks spread outwards.
"I can't understand how you knew that it was a plains elephant,"
whispered Pandion after carefully examining the calm old giant.
"Do you see his tusks? They're not broken, they're worn away. They
don't grow on an old elephant like they do on one in the prime of his life,
and he has worn them away because they are soft. You never see such tusks on
a forest elephant, they are mostly long and thin."
The friends conversed softly. Time passed and the leading elephants
disappeared beyond the horizon, the entire herd turning into a dark strip.
From the left came still another herd. At its head marched four bull
elephants of enormous size, almost eight cubits high. They waved their heads
as they walked, their long, slightly curved tusks rising and falling and at
times touching the grass with their sharp points.
There were many cows in the herd; these could be distinguished by their
sunken backs and the huge folds of skin on their flanks. Baby elephants,
pressing close to the hind-legs of the cows, toddled along uncertainly;
while to one side, keeping to themselves, was the merry throng of the
elephant youth. Their tiny tusks and ears, their small long heads, their big
stomachs and the equal length of their fore- and hind-legs distinguished
them from the grown-ups.
The friends realized that the decisive moment of the hunt had come. It
was difficult for the baby elephants to march through the swamp, and the
herd moved farther to the right on to a strip of hard ground between the
bushes and occasional trees.
"Why is it that such a heavy animal as the elephant doesn't get stuck
in the swamps?" asked Pandion.
"They have special feet," began Kidogo, "they. . . ."
A thunderous noise, made by the hunters banging on sheets of metal and
tom-toms, accompanied by their frenzied howls, spread so suddenly across the
plain that the friends gasped in amazement.
The elephant herd, panic-stricken, rushed for the swamp only to find
there another line of men with tomtoms and trumpets that rose out of the
grass. The leading elephants held back, checking the pressure from those
behind. The piercing trumpeting of the frightened elephants, the thunder of
metal sheets, the crackle of breaking branches-through all that hellish
noise the thin, plaintive whine of the calves could occasionally be heard.
The animals dashed here and there, at first bunching together, then again
spreading out. The figures of the men could be seen in the dust clouds in
the midst of that chaos of milling giants. The hunters did not approach the
herd but ran from place to place, reformed their ranks and again beat their
metal sheets. Gradually the friends began to understand what the hunters
were doing; they were cutting the young elephants off from the adults and
forcing them to the right into the open mouth of a dry watercourse that cut
into the stone cliff and was protected by a strip of forest. The grey giants
ran after the hunters, trying to trample on enemies that had appeared from
they knew not where. The men, however, leaping high into the air, hid in the
bushes and behind the trees. While the infuriated animals were waving their
trunks and seeking their hidden enemies, new rows of hunters, screaming
wildly and rattling their metal sheets, appeared from the other side. The
elephants turned on the newcomers who repeated the same manoeuvre in an
effort to cut off the young elephants.
The herd moved farther and farther into the grasslands, grey bodies
disappeared behind the trees and only the deafening noise and the clouds of
dust that rose high into the air indicated the hunting ground.
The astounded friends, amazed at the bravery and skill of the hunters
in avoiding the maddened monsters who charged down on them, and continuing
their dangerous business no matter what happened, gazed in silence at the
empty land with its crushed bushes and broken trees. Kidogo's face wore a
worried frown as he listened to what was going on, and he said softly:
"Something's wrong. The hunt isn't going the way it should!"
"How do you know that?" asked the astonished Cavius.
"They brought us here because they expected the herd to move to the
east. The herd has moved off to the right, I suppose that must be bad."
"Let's go over there, back along the ledge, the way we came," suggested
Pandion.
Kidogo pondered over the suggestion for a moment and then agreed. In
the bustle of the hunt their coming could not make any difference.
Bending low and keeping concealed behind stones and grass, the three
friends moved a distance of a thousand cubits back in the direction from
which they had come until they were again opposite the open plain.
They could see the gully in the rocks where the hunters had driven more
than a dozen young elephants. The hunters were darting about amongst the
trees, skilfully dropping nooses over the animals and fastening them to the
tree-trunks.
A line of warriors armed with broad spears closed the entrance to the
gully. The noise and shouting was now at its height some two thousand cubits
away; apparently the greater part of the herd was over there.
Suddenly the loud trumpeting of elephants came from in front and from
the left. Kidogo shuddered. "The elephants are attacking," he whispered. A
man let out a long moan, the angry cries of another sounded like words of
command.
On the far side of the open space in front of them, where two
wide-spreading trees cast a huge patch of shadow, the friends could see some
movement. A moment later a huge elephant appeared from there with his ears
outspread and his trunk stretched out in front of him like a log. He was
followed by two other similar giants. Pandion recognized in them the
monsters who had led the herd. The fourth, accompanied by several other
elephants, was a little distance behind. From the bushes on the right
hunters ran out to cut off the elephants. They ran between them and as they
ran they threw spears at the elephant that had last appeared. The latter
trumpeted furiously and turned on the men who were running as fast as their
legs could carry them towards the swamp. The other elephants followed him.
The three leaders paid no attention to the hunters' scheme to separate them
from their fellows, and continued their race towards the valley between the
rocks, most probably attracted by the cries of the young.
"That's bad, that's bad, the leaders have turned in the other
direction," whispered Kidogo excitedly, squeezing Pandion's arm till it
hurt.
"Look. . . . Look, there's bravery for you," shouted Cavius, forgetting
himself.
The hunters that barred the entrance to the valley stood firm and made
no attempt to conceal themselves from the infuriated monsters. As they moved
forward, strung out in a long chain, the low, burned-out grass offered them
no cover.
The leading elephant rushed straight at the middle of the line of
hunters. Two men stood stock-still while their neighbours on either side
sprang forward towards the approaching giant. The elephant slackened his
pace, raised his trunk high into the air, trumpeted maliciously and set out
to trample the hunters underfoot. No more than ten cubits separated the
brave men from the elephant when they leapt aside like lightning. At that
same moment two men rose out of the grass beside each of the elephant's
hind-legs; two of them thrust their broad spears into the animal's belly and
the other two leaned back to strike at the elephant's legs.
A high-pitched, whistling note escaped the leader's raised trunk.
Lowering it the elephant turned his head towards the nearest man on the
right. The hunter could not escape him or was too slow in his movements.
Blood spurted from his body and the three friends could see from their
vantage point the bare bones of his side and shoulder. The wounded man fell
to the ground without a sound, but the elephant also collapsed heavily on to
its hind-quarters and began slowly crawling away sideways. The hunters that
had stopped the leading elephant then joined their comrades who were
engaging the other two. These were either cleverer or had previous
experience of man; they dashed from side to side, giving the hunters no
opportunity to creep up behind them, and crushed three men underfoot.
The clouds of dust that hung over the scene of the hunt turned red in
the rays of the setting sun. The elephants looked like huge black towers at
the base of which fearless men were darting to and fro. They leaped into the
air to escape the long tusks, met the animals' trunks with spears thrust
shalt downwards into the ground and with loud shouts ran behind the
elephants, attracting attention away from other hunters who would otherwise
have been trampled to death.
The frenzied animals kept up their incessant trumpeting. When they
turned their heads towards the rocks on which the three friends were
sitting, they seemed extraordinarily tall, their widespread ears waved high
above the hunters. Seen from the side the elephants, their heads lowered,
looked smaller, their tusks almost raked the ground, ready to gore their
enemies. Pandion, Cavius and Kidogo realized that they were looking -at only
part of the battle; it was going on far away beyond the trees where the herd
was concentrated, and away to the left in the swamp where the hunters had
drawn off the fourth leader and the elephants that had come with him. The
three friends had no idea what was going on there, but they had no time to
think about it, for the bloody struggle being enacted before their eyes
demanded all their attention.
From behind the trees came the rumble of approaching tom-toms as
several dozen hunters came to the aid of their comrades. The leaders of the
elephant herd halted in indecision, the men shouted and waved their spears,
and the elephants retreated. They ran to the third, wounded leader, stood
one on either side of him, pushed their tusks under his heavy body and
lifted him on to his feet. Squeezing him between their huge bodies, they
dragged him behind the trees, dropped him, picked him up again and made off.
Several of the hunters started out to follow up the elephants, but they were
stopped by the chief hunter.
"He won't get away ... they'll soon leave him ... you'll infuriate them
again..." Kidogo translated his words.
The noise away to the right died down, apparently the battle had been
won. A group of hunters that appeared from the north, from the direction of
the swamp, were carrying two inert bodies. Nobody paid any attention to the
three friends who made their way cautiously down to the plain to survey the
field of battle. They went towards the place where the main herd was
concentrated. As they pressed their way through the bushes, Kidogo suddenly
jumped back in fright-a dying elephant, the tip of its trunk still
quivering, lay on the crown of a tree that he must have broken down by
falling against it. Farther on, where the trees were sparser, a second
elephant lay in a grey heap on its belly, with bent legs and its back
hunched up. As it scented the approach of men it raised its head; the deep
folds of skin that lay around its dull, sunken eyes gave the animal an
expression of the infinite weariness of old age. The giant lowered its head,
leaning" on its tusks, and then with a dull thud fell on its side. The
hunters were calling to each other all round. Kidogo waved his hand and
turned back-another herd of elephants had appeared from the south. The
friends hurried back to the rocks, but this time it was a false alarm-the
trained elephants of the Elephant People were approaching.
The young elephants tied to the trees stuck up their tails and made
frantic efforts to get at the men, trying to reach them with their trunks.
The elephant drivers placed their trained animals one on either side of the
captives. They squeezed them between their bodies and led them away to the
village. As a precaution ropes were fixed to the neck and hind-legs of every
young elephant; fifteen men in front and behind held the ropes. The tired
faces of the hunters, haggard from the terrific strain of the hunt, were
filled with gloom. Eleven motionless bodies had already been laid out on the
wattle platforms on the backs of elephants, and hunters were still beating
the bushes in search of another two missing men.
The elephants with the captives were led away, and the hunters sat or
lay on the ground resting after the fray. The friends went up to the chief
hunter and asked him whether there was anything they could do to help. The
chief hunter looked at them 'angrily and said brusquely:
"Help? What can you do to help, strangers? It's been a hard hunt and
we've lost many brave men. Wait where you were told and don't get in our
way!''
The friends went back to the rocks and sat down apart from the hunters,
afraid to quarrel with people on whom their entire future depended.
Cavius, Pandion and Kidogo lay down to wait until they were called, and
talked softly amongst themselves. The sun was going down and long shadows
from the battlemented rocks stretched out into the plain.
"Still I can't understand why the huge elephants don't kill all the
people in battle," said Cavius thoughtfully. "If the elephants were to fight
better, they could crush all the hunters to dust. . . ."
"You're right," agreed Kidogo. "It's the good luck of man that the
elephant is fainthearted."
"How can that be?" asked the astonished Etruscan.
"It's simply because the elephant isn't used to fighting. He's so big
and strong that no other animal ever attacks him; he's not threatened with
danger since only man is bold enough to hunt him. This is why the grey giant
is not a reliable fighter, his will is easily broken, and he can't stand up
to a long fight if he doesn't crush his enemy immediately. The buffalo is a
different case. If the buffalo possessed the size and intellect of the
elephant, all those who hunt him would be killed."
Cavius muttered something indefinite under his breath; he did not know
whether to believe the Negro or not; but then he recalled the indecision
which he himself had seen the elephants display at the most decisive moment
of the battle and said no more.
"The spears the Elephant People use are quite different from ours; the
blades are eight fingers wide," put in Pandion. "What enormous strength must
be needed to strike with such a spear."
Kidogo suddenly stood up and listened. Not a sound came from the side
where the hunters had been resting. The sky, golden in the setting sun, was
rapidly darkening.
"They have gone away and forgotten us," exclaimed the Negro and ran out
from behind the rocks.
Not a soul was to be seen anywhere. In the distance scarcely audible
voices were calling to one another; the hunters were on their way back to
the village without the three friends.
"Let's follow them immediately, the journey is a long one," said
Pandion hastily, but the Negro held his friend back.
"It's too late, the sun will disappear soon and we'll lose our way in
the dark," said Kidogo. "Better wait until the moon comes up, it won't be
long."
Pandion and Cavius agreed and lay down to rest.
VIII. THE SONS OF THE WIND
Hyenas barked and jackals howled plaintively in the impenetrable
darkness. Kidogo was worried, he kept looking towards the east where an
ash-grey strip of sky above the treetops heralded the rising moon.
"I don't know if there are any wild dogs here or not," muttered Kidogo.
"If there are we'll be in trouble. Dogs attack together, the whole pack of
them, and overcome even the buffalo. . . ."
The sky grew lighter, the grim, black rocks turned to silver, and the
trees in the plain showed up as black silhouettes. The moon had risen.
The three friends, their spears grasped firmly in their hands, set out
southwards along the chain of rocky hills. They hastened away from the
gloomy battlefield where the carrion eaters were feasting on the dead
elephants. The howls died away behind them, the plain around them seemed
dead, and only the swift steps of the three men broke the silence of the
night.
Kidogo carefully avoided dense groves of trees and thickets of bushes
that formed mysterious black hills towering here and there above the grass.
The Negro chose his path through open spaces that gleamed like white lakes
in a labyrinth of black islands of vegetation.
The chain of rocky hills turned to the west, and a narrow strip of
forest kept the friends close to the rocks. Kidogo turned to the right and
led the way across a long, stony open space, that sloped down in a southerly
direction. Suddenly the Negro stopped, turned abruptly round and stood
listening. Pandion and Cavius strained their ears but not a sound could they
hear in any direction. As before, absolute silence reigned supreme.
The Negro went hesitantly forward, increasing his pace, and did not
answer the whispered questions of the Etruscan and the Hellene. They had
advanced a further thousand cubits, when the Negro again stopped. His eyes
showed a troubled gleam in the bright moonlight.
"Something's following us," he whispered and lay down with his ear to
the ground.
Pandion followed his friend's example, but Cavius remained standing,
straining his eyes to see through the silver curtain of moonlight.
Pandion lay with his ear pressed to the hot stony earth and at first
could hear nothing but his own breathing. The silent, menacing uncertainty
alarmed him.
Suddenly a weak, scarcely audible sound was transmitted through the
earth from a distance. The regularly repeated sounds grew more
frequent-click, click, click. Pandion held up his head and the sounds
stopped immediately. Kidogo continued listening for some time, pressing
first one, then the other ear to the ground; then he leaped to his feet like
a spring released.
"Some big animal is following us, it's a bad thing that I don't know
what animal. Its claws are outside, like those of a dog or hyena, so that it
isn't a lion or a leopard. . . ."
"A buffalo or rhinoceros," suggested Cavius.
Kidogo shook his head energetically.
"No, it's a beast of prey," he snapped with confidence. "We must find
cover ... no trees near us," he whispered, looking round in alarm.
The country ahead of them was an almost level stony stretch of open
ground with occasional tufts of grass and small bushes.
"Forward, as fast as we can!" Kidogo hurried them on, and the friends
ran along carefully, trying to avoid the long thorns on the bushes and the
cracks in the dried earth.
Now the scratching of heavy talons on the stony ground could be clearly
heard behind them. The increased frequency of the regular clatter of the
claws told the friends that the animal had also broken into a run. Click,
click, click-the sounds drew nearer and nearer.
Pandion looked over his shoulder and saw a tall swaying silhouette, a
grey phantom pursuing them.
Kidogo kept turning his head this way and that, trying to pick out a
tree somewhere ahead of them and to judge the speed of the unknown animal.
He realized that the trees were too far away and that the friends would not
be able to reach them in time.
'The animal is gaining on us," said the Negro stopping. "If we keep our
backs to it, we shall die a sorry death!" he added excitedly.
"We must fight it," said the saturnine Cavdus.
The three friends stood side by side facing the menacing grey phantom
that was bearing down on them in silence. During the whole period of pursuit
the animal had not emitted a single sound, and' it was this strange fact, so
unusual in the wild beasts of the plains, that disturbed the friends.
The diffused grey silhouette grew darker, its outlines became clearer.
When the animal had reduced the distance between them to no more than three
hundred cubits, it slowed down and approached at a steady walk, confident
that its chosen victims would not escape.
The friends had never before seen any such animal. Its massive forelegs
were longer than its hinds, the forepart of the body rose high above the
spine, the back sloped away towards the croup. The heavy head, with massive
jaws and a steep, prominent forehead, sat upright on the thick neck. The
animal's short light fur was speckled with darker patches. Long black hair
stuck up on the back of its head and neck. It bore a distant resemblance to
a spotted hyena but of a monstrous size such as nobody had ever seen before;
its head was a good five cubits from the ground. The wide chest, shoulders
and withers were frightening in their massiveness, the muscles stood out
like hillocks, and the huge claws clattered maliciously on the ground
putting fear into those who heard them.
The beast moved with a strange irregular gait, swinging its low rump
and nodding its heavy head, so that the lower jaw almost touched the throat.
"What is it?" asked Pandion in a whisper, licking his dry lips.
"I don't know," answered the perplexed Kidogo. "I've never heard of
such an animal."
The animal suddenly turned; its huge eyes, directed straight at the
waiting men, lit up with flickering flames. The animal sidled round the men
to the right, then stopped again with its eyes fixed on them. Its rounded
ears jutted out obliquely from its head.
"The brute is intelligent; it has moved round so that the moonlight is
against us," whispered Kidogo, his breath coming in short gasps.
A nervous shiver ran through Pandion's body such as he always felt
before a dangerous fight. ' The animal drew a deep breath and advanced
slowly on the men. In its movements, in its malevolent silence, in the
persistent stare of the big eyes under the protruding forehead, there was
something that distinguished it from all other animals the friends had ever
seen. The three men realized instinctively that the animal was a relic of an
older world with other laws of life. Shoulder to shoulder, their spears held
ready, the three men advanced to meet the nocturnal monster. For an instant
it stood still, perplexed, then, uttering a short, hoarse sound, hurled
itself at them. The huge jaw opened, the thick teeth flashed in the
moonlight as three spears plunged into the broad chest and neck of the
monster. The men could not withstand the pressure of the animal's weight
and, furthermore, it possessed enormous strength. The spears struck against
bone and were turned aside and pulled out of their hands; the three of them
were thrown back. Kidogo and Pandion managed to scramble to their feet, but
Cavius found himself lying under the beast. The two friends rushed to his
rescue. The monster sat back on its hind-legs and suddenly swung out its
front paws. Blunt claws struck Pandion in the hip with such force that he
fell and almost lost consciousness. The animal planted its enormous paw on
Pandion's leg, causing him terrific pain, the joints cracked, and the
animal's claws tore skin and flesh.
Pandion, keeping his spear in his hand, lifted himself from the ground
with both hands in an effort to rise and, as he did so, heard Kidogo's
spear-shaft break. Rising to his knees, he saw that the Negro was held down
by the animal whose open jowl was drawing near him. Kidogo, his eyes popping
out of his head, was pressing both hands under the lower jaw of the monster
in an effort to turn its head away. Pandion's trusted friend was perishing
before his eyes. The young Hellene was beside himself and, feeling no pain,
jumped up and thrust his spear into the animal's neck. The animal snapped
its teeth loudly and turned on Pandion, knocking him off his feet with the
movement. The young Hellene did not let go the spear and, holding the
spear-shaft on the ground, for a short time held the animal fast, while
Kidogo managed to get out his knife. Neither Pandion nor the Negro noticed
Cavius rise up on the other side of the animal. Baring his teeth in a grin,
the Etruscan coolly aimed at the animal's flank with his spear and thrust it
in behind the shoulder-blade with both hands. The long blade went in a cubit
deep, a roar escaped the opening mouth of the monster; it shuddered
convulsively and turned left, towards the Etruscan. The latter, hunching his
shoulders and pulling his head down between them, staggered but did not
fall. Kidogo with a piercing yell drove his knife into the animal's throat,
and at that same moment the Etruscan's spear reached the animal's heart. The
great beast collapsed convulsively and an unbearable stench spread around
it. Pandion withdrew his spear and thrust it again into the back of the
animal's neck, but this last blow was unnecessary. The animal stretched its
neck, stubbed its jowl against Cavius and stretched out its hind-legs, that
were still quivering; the claws scratched the earth, the muscles contracted
under the skin; but the stiff hairs on the back of the neck had fallen flat.
Great was the joy of the three friends at their deliverance from the
terrible monster that lay motionless before them in the moonlight.
As soon as they had come to themselves the three friends examined their
wounds. A piece of flesh had been torn out of the Etruscan's shoulder, and
the animal's long claws had furrowed his back. Pandion's leg was not broken,
but he had a deep wound below the knee and apparently the tendons had been
strained or torn so that he could not step on his foot. His side was swollen
and black from the blow of the animal's paw, but no ribs were broken. Kidogo
had suffered more than the others-he had several deep wounds and had been
badly crushed.
The friends bound each other's wounds with strips torn from their
loin-cloths. Pandion was more worried than the others, for his wounded leg
made it impossible for him to walk.
Kidogo soothed his friend, assuring him that they were now out of
danger, and that the body of the monster would be a sure protection against
all other beasts of prey; the Elephant People would miss them and at dawn
would set out to find them.
Bearing with patience and fortitude the pain of their burning wounds,
the three friends stretched out on the hard stones, but were unable to sleep
in their excitement.
Dawn came very suddenly, and the sun drove away the mysterious and
ominous shadows of the night. Pandion, tormented by the pain in his leg,
opened his tired eyes at the sound of a loud shout from Kidogo. The Negro
was examining their nocturnal pursuer and was explaining to Cavius that he
had seen drawings of such animals in Tha-Quem amongst pictures of other
animals in a tomb in the City of the White Walls. Cavius stuck out his lower
lip incredulously. Kidogo swore and tried to convince his friend that the
inhabitants of Tha-Quem had no doubt met with such animals in the distant
past.
The sun rose higher. Thirst tormented the three friends, H and they
were racked with fever from their wounds. Kidogo and Cavius had decided to
go in search of water when they suddenly heard voices. Three elephants with
warriors on their backs were moving across the plain below the stony slope
on which the friends had met the terror of the night. The Elephant People,
hearing Kidogo's shouts, turned their elephants towards them and set them at
a faster pace. The elephants were approaching the three strangers when they
suddenly shied and began trumpeting uneasily, raising their trunks and
spreading their ears. The warriors jumped down from their platforms and ran
towards the dead monster with cries of "Gishu! Gishu!"
Yesterday's chief hunter gave the three friends a look of approval and
said with a catch in his hoarse voice:
"You are indeed famous warriors if the three of you alone could
overcome the terror of the night, the eater of the thick-skinned animals."
The Elephant People told the three friends about the gishu, a very rare
and dangerous animal. Nobody knew where it lay hidden by day, but during the
night it wandered about in silence, attacking young elephants, rhinoceroses
and the young of other big animals. The gishu was exceptionally strong and
stubborn in battle. Its terrible teeth could bite off the leg of an elephant
at one snap, and its powerful forepaws crushed its victims, breaking their
bones.
Cavius made signs asking the hunters to help him skin the animal. Four
warriors willingly set about the task, paying no attention to the horrible
stench.
The skin and the head were lifted on to an elephant, where the three
friends were also lifted by the warriors. The elephants, obedient to light
blows of their drivers' hooked knives, set out at a smart trot and in a
short time covered the distance to the village, which they reached by
midday. The villagers greeted them with shouts of welcome; from the height
of the elephants' backs the warriors shouted out, announcing the details of
the great deed of valour.
Kidogo, his face beaming, sat proudly beside Pandion on the wide
swaying elephant platform, five cubits above the earth. The Negro had
started singing several times, but each time the Elephant People had stopped
him, warning him that the elephants did not like noise and were accustomed
to moving in silence.
Four days journey separated them from the village of the Elephant
People. The chief had kept his word, and the party of former slaves was
allowed to follow the tribe's expedition to the west. As their wounds had
not yet healed, Pandion, Cavius and Kidogo were given a place on one of the
six elephants and their sixteen companions followed behind on foot. The
elephants marched only half the day, the remainder of the time being
required to feed and rest them. Those who were following on foot, however,
could only overtake the elephants by nightfall.
The elephant drivers did not select for their charges the way that the
people would have chosen for themselves. They avoided forests with stands of
tall trees and crashed their way through bush country where the undergrowth
was so thick that the men would have had to hack their way through. From
time to time the leading elephant was changed and sent to the rear to rest.
The elephants left a path behind them along which the liberated slaves
marched without a single blow of a knife full of admiration at the ease with
which the impenetrable thickets were crushed underfoot. The three friends on
the elephant were even better off. The platform on which they sat swayed
slightly as it floated continuously over the ground with its thorn-bushes,
insects and dangerous snakes, stretches of foul, stinking mud, sharp stones
on rocky slopes, grass that cut the feet, and deep, gaping crevices. Only
now did Pandion realize the great care that had to be exercised by a
traveller on foot through the African jungles and bushlands. Constant
vigilance was necessary for a man to remain uninjured and preserve his
strength and fighting ability for the journey ahead of him.
The elephants strode on through all obstacles with the reliability of
granite blocks, and Pandion had ample time to drink in the beauty of this
strange country, its colour, form and aromas, the magnificence of its plant
and animal life. In the glaring sunlight of the glades the pure tones of the
flowers attained such extraordinary brilliance that to Pandion's northern
eye there seemed to be some-. thing vaguely wrong with them. The glaring
colour sequences seemed harsh and dissonant when compared with the soft,
harmonious colours of his native Hellas. But whenever clouds covered the sky
or the party plunged into the deep twilight of the shady forests this-
galaxy of colour disappeared.
The party cut across an outjutting spur of the forest and found
themselves in open, hilly, red-soil country where they again saw the
leafless trees that exuded milky sap. Their bluish-green branches stretched
mournfully into the blinding glare of the sky; the tops looked as if they
had been deliberately trimmed straight some thirty cubits from the ground.
The thick trunks and leafless branches had the appearance of candelabra cast
from some green metal. Huge blossoms, glowing red at the tips of the
branches, gave one the impression of hundreds of torches burning in a
sunless cemetery. There was neither beast nor bird to disturb the deathlike
stillness of the tropical heat in these motionless thickets.-
Farther on the soil was scarred by deep watercourses with dazzling
white sand where the red soil had been washed away. The travellers entered a
labyrinth of narrow gullies whose friable purple walls rose to a height of a
hundred cubits on either side. The elephants picked their way carefully
through a maze of eroded cliffs, pyramids, turrets and frail pillars. Now
and again they passed through deep depressions, round like bowls, in which
spurs of different soil spread radially across the level floor. These spurs
formed steep sharp walls of friable earth that sometimes collapsed as the
party passed by, frightening the elephants, who shied away from them. The
colour of the eroded earth was constantly changing; a wall of warm red tones
would give way to one of light brown which, in turn, was followed by bright
yellow pyramids interspersed with strips and ledges of dazzling white. It
seemed to Pandion that he had entered a fairy kingdom. These deep, dry and
lifeless canyons hid a wealth of colour contrasts, the iridescence of
inanimate nature.
Again came densely wooded ridges, again the green walls hemmed in the
travellers, and the elephant platform was like an island floating slowly
over a sea of leaves and branches.
Pandion noticed how carefully the drivers led their elephants, and how
carefully they examined the animals' skin at halts. When he asked one of
them why they did this, the Negro placed his hand on a gourd that hung at
his belt.
"It's a bad thing for an elephant to graze its skin or injure it in any
way," said the driver. "If he does his blood turns bad and the animal soon
dies. We have medicinal pitch we always keep at hand to treat all injuries
without delay."
The young Hellene was astonished to learn that the powerful, long-lived
giants were so vulnerable, but then he realized why the wise old animals
were so careful.
The elephants took a lot of looking after. The sites of the night's
bivouac and resting places were selected with great care after a lengthy
examination of the country and numerous consultations; the tethered
elephants were surrounded by keen-eyed watchmen, who kept awake the whole
night through. Special reconnaissance parties were sent out far ahead to
make sure that there were no wild elephants in the neighbourhood, and if any
were met with, they were driven off with loud cries.
At the bivouacs the friends talked with their fellow-travellers, who
answered all their questions.
On one occasion Pandion asked the caravan leader, an elderly man of
short stature, why they went so willingly to the elephant hunts despite the
terrible danger.
The deep furrows around the leader's mouth grew even deeper. He
answered unwillingly:
"You talk like a coward although you do not look like one. The
elephants are the strength of our people. Owing to the elephants we live in
ease and plenty, but we pay for that with our lives. If we were afraid, we
shouldn't live any better than the tribes that feed on lizards and roots.
Those who are afraid of death live a life of hunger and misery. If you know
that your death means life to your family, then you go boldly into any
danger! My son, a brave man, in the prime of his life was killed during an
elephant hunt." The caravan leader screwed up his eyes morosely as he turned
them on Pandion. "Perhaps you think different, stranger? If so, why have you
journeyed through many countries, fighting against men and beasts, instead
of remaining in slavery?"
Pandion grew ashamed and asked no more questions. Kidogo, who was
sitting by the campfire, suddenly got up and shuffled over to a group of
trees standing at a distance of two hundred cubits from the camp. The
sinking sun turned the big oval leaves to gold and the thin branches
quivered in the light breeze. Kidogo carefully examined the irregular, lumpy
bark of their thin trunks, gave a shout of joy and pulled out his knife. A
little later the Negro came back carrying two bunches of reddish-grey bark.
One of the bunches he took to the leader of the caravan.
"Give this to the chief as Kidogo's parting gift," he said. "This
medicine is quite as good as the magic grass from the blue plains. When he
is sick or tired or sorrowing, let him crush the bark and make a decoction
of it. He must drink only a little, if he drinks too much it will not act as
medicine but as poison. This bark restores strength to the aged, brings joy
to the depressed and new life to the weak. Take good note of that tree, you
will be grateful for it." ( Corynanthe johimbe from the Rubiaceae family to
which quinine and coffee trees also belong.)
The caravan leader took the gift with pleasure and immediately ordered
his men to get more of the bark; Kidogo hid the second bunch in the skin of
the gishu which Cavius carried with him.
The next day the elephants climbed on to a stony plateau overgrown with
tall bushes so bent by the wind that they bowed down to the earth in green
humps scattered about the grey dry grass.
Every breath of the wind that blew in their faces brought a pleasant
freshness. Pandion brightened up. The air was filled with a strange
fragrance, long forgotten yet still familiar and infinitely dear; but soon
it was lost amongst the strong perfumes wind-carried from the sun-heated
leaves of the forest that lay below them. Wide, easy slopes stretched to a
great distance, dark strips and patches of forest thickets marring the even
blue of their bare surface. Far away on the horizon a high mountain range
loomed purple in the haze.
"Tengrela, my country, is over there!" screamed Kidogo in ecstasies of
joy and the whole party turned to look in that direction.
Kidogo waved his arms, sobbed and laughed and his mighty shoulders
shook with excitement. Pandion could well understand the feelings of his
friend, but nevertheless an indeterminate sense of jealousy embittered him;
Kidogo had reached his homeland, but how much had he, Pandion, to overcome
before the great hour came when he, like his friend, would be able to say:
"This is my native land!"
Unnoticed by the others, Pandion turned away and his head drooped; at
that moment he could not share his friend's joy.
The elephants descended a bare black slope of volcanic rock where no
vegetation could get a foothold on the solidified lava. Their path crossed a
level platform dotted with numerous small lakes. The gleaming stretches of
clear, blue water stood out in sharp contrast to the black banks. Pandion
gave a shudder as he suddenly saw before him Thessa's deep blue eyes and
black tresses. The blue lakes seemed to be looking at him in reproach like
the eyes of Thessa herself. Pandion's thoughts carried him back to Oeniadae,
a vague but strong feeling of impatience filled his breast, and he moved
over to his friend and embraced him. The tanned sinewy hand of Cavius lay in
Kidogo's black hand and the three friends joined their hands in a firm and
joyous handshake.
The elephants were continuing the descent; the banks of a broad
river-valley spread on both sides of them. A little farther on, it was
joined by a similar valley on the right, and the two streams they carried,
joining into a single river, raced on, gaining more water the farther they
went. For a time the elephants followed the left bank, marching at the foot
of a line of eroded cliffs. Ahead of them the cliffs dropped back from the
river whose pure, clear water gurgled merrily as it rushed on through the
shade of tall trees, that met in a green arch over the river which was here
some fifteen cubits wide. The elephants halted before they reached the
trees.
"This is the place," said the caravan leader. "We don't go any
farther."
The three friends descended from their elephant and said farewell to
their hosts. The caravan crossed the river and the three friends stood for a
long time watching the great grey beasts climb the slope leading to a
flat-topped eminence to the north of the river. An involuntary sigh of
regret broke from the lips of all three as the mighty animals disappeared
into the distance. The friends lit signal fires to guide the party that was
following behind on foot.
"Let us go and look for reeds and small trees to build rafts with,"
said Kidogo to the Etruscan. "We can make the rest of the journey quickly by
water. You, cripple, wait here by the fire and look after your leg," said
the Negro to Pandion with rough tenderness.
Pandion and Cavius left Kidogo on the bank of the river amongst his
fellow-tribesmen.
The smell of the nearby sea intoxicated the two friends, who had grown
up on its shores. They pushed off their raft and floated down the left-hand
sleeve of the river. Soon the raft was brought to rest on a sand bar. The
friends climbed up the steep bank, their feet and legs tangling in the tall
grass. They made their way over a hilly ridge and, panting with excitement,
hurried to the top and stood stock-still in silence, unable to speak or even
to breathe.
They were overwhelmed by the endless expanse of the ocean; the gentle
splashing of the waves sounded like thunder to them. Cavius and Pandion
stood breast-high in the tall grass with the feathery leaves of palm-trees
waving high over their heads. The line where the green of the foothills
joined the burning sunlit sands of the seashore looked almost black. The
golden sand was fringed with the silver line of the surf beyond which
transparent green waves rose and fell. Farther out at sea a straight line
marked the edge of the offshore reefs, dazzlingly white against the blue of
the open sea. Light fluffy patches of cloud dotted the sky. On the beach, a
clump of five palms leaned out over the water, the light even breeze opening
their leaves out and then folding them again like the tattered wings of
birds with dark-brown and golden feathers. The leaves of the palms, the
colour of cast bronze, shut out the view of the sea and their sharp edges
were tinged with brilliant fire, so great was the strength of the sun that
shone through them. The moist wind, bringing with it the salt smell of the
sea, flowed over Pandion's face and bare breast as though it were embracing
him after years of separation.
Cavius and Pandion sat down on the cool firm sand that was as level as
the floor of a house.
After a short rest they threw themselves into the gently rolling waves
and the sea welcomed them, tossing them tenderly on her bosom. Pandion and
Cavius, their arms cutting through the sparkling crests of the waves,
enjoyed to the full the smell of the salt spray until the sea-water began to
make their healing wounds burn. When they left the water the two friends
stood on the beach feasting their eyes on the distant ocean. It spread
before them like a blue bridge that somewhere joined the waters of their
native sea; at that very moment similar waves were rolling against the white
cliffs of Hellas and the yellow rocks of Cavius' native Etruria.
The young Hellene felt his eyes fill with tears of joyous excitement;
he no longer thought of the tremendous distance that still separated him
from his home. Here was the sea and beyond it Thessa was waiting for him;
there awaited everything that was near and dear to him, abandoned and hidden
by years of harsh trials and the countless stadia of wearisome journey.
The two friends stood on a narrow strip of beach, their faces to the
sea. Behind them rose high mountains covered with ominous forests, the
fringe of a strange land whose burning deserts, plains, dry plateaux and
dark and humid forests had held them captive so long; a land that had taken
years of life from them, years that could have been devoted to their
families. Their liberation had been bought by a long heroic struggle and
titanic effort. If all that effort had been devoted to their native lands,
it would have earned them honour and glory.
Cavius placed his heavy hands on Pandion's shoulder.
"Our fate is now in our own hands, Pandion!" he exclaimed. The fires of
passion gleamed in his eyes, usually dark and morose. "There are two of us;
surely we can reach the waters of the Green Sea now that we have fought our
way to the shores of the Great Arc. Yes, we shall return and on the way we
shall be the mainstay of our Libyan companions, who know little of
navigation. . . ."
Pandion nodded his head but did not speak. Now that he stood face to
face with the sea he felt absolute confidence in his own strength.
Kidogo's voice rang out over the beach. The worried Negro, followed by
a crowd of his excited tribesmen and his fellow-travellers, was seeking the
friends. Pandion and Cavius were taken back to the river and were ferried
across to the other side where several oxen awaited them for the transport
of the wounded and their weapons arid other belongings.
A short stage would bring their wanderings to an end. The promise made
by Kidogo under the trees on the banks of the Nile, when they stood beside
their dying comrades after the terrible battle with the rhinoceros, had been
fulfilled. All nineteen of the former slaves were given a hearty welcome and
an opportunity to rest in a huge village near the sea, on the banks of a
wide river that flowed parallel to the one they had floated down after
leaving the Elephant People.
As far as Pandion and Cavius were concerned, the finest thing of all
was the news that the Sons of the Wind, after an interval of twenty years,
had, in the previous year, again visited those shores. "Sons of the Wind"
was the name given by Kidogo's tribe to the Sea People who had, from time
immemorial, come periodically from the northern seas to the Southern Horn in
search of ivory, gold, medicinal herbs and the skins of wild beasts. The
local people said that the Sons of the Wind were in outward appearance like
the Etruscan and the Hellene, only their skin was darker and their hair even
more curly. The year before four black ships had come, following the ancient
route of their forefathers. The Sons of the Wind had promised to come again
as soon as the period of storms in the Sea of Mists was over. According to
the calculations of experienced people, the ships should come in three
months time. It would take them much longer to build their own ship, quite
apart from the fact that the sea route was unknown to them. Pandion and
Cavius doubted whether the Sea People would take them on board their ships
together with ten of their comrades, but Kido-go, winking and chuckling
mysteriously, said that he would arrange that.
There was nothing left to do but wait, although they were tormented by
uncertainty. The Sons of the Wind might not return again for another twenty
years. Pandion and Cavius comforted themselves with the thought that if the
ships did not appear by the appointed time they would begin building their
own ship.
Kidogo's return was an event that was celebrated by noisy feasting.
Pandion soon grew tired of the feasts; he grew tired, too, of hearing his
prowess praised and of having to repeat stories about his native land and
about the adventures he had been through.
Quite accidentally it happened that Kidogo, constantly surrounded by
his relatives and friends, distracted by the admiration of the women,
somehow got separated from Pandion and Cavius, and the friends met less
frequently. Kidogo was now journeying into the new life by his own path
which did not coincide with that of his friends. Those of Kidogo's
travelling companions who belonged to related tribes soon left for their own
homes. The party that was left consisted of Pandion, Cavius and ten Libyans,
who considered that their return home depended on the Etruscan and the
Hellene.
The twelve strangers were accommodated in a big house of grey-green
sun-dried clay, but Kidogo insisted that Cavius and Pandion move to a
beautiful dome-shaped house near his own. After the many years of wandering,
Pandion was able at last to sleep on his own bed. These people did not sleep
on skins or bundles of grass on the ground; they made bedsteads, wooden
frames on legs, which supported a net of plaited, pliable reeds, that gave
rest to the body and was especially pleasant for Pandion's wounded leg.
Pandion now had a great deal of spare time which he spent near the sea
where he sat for hours either alone or with Cavius, listening to the regular
rumble of the waves. He was in a state of constant alarm. His boundless
vitality had been sapped by the vicissitudes of his long journey in a hot
debilitating climate. He had changed greatly and admitted it himself. There
had been a time when, given wings by youth and love, he had been able to
leave behind the girl he loved, his home and his native land, following the
urge to learn more of the art of the ancients, to see foreign lands and to
learn something of life.
Now he knew the meaning of the bitterest nostalgia, he knew the meaning
of joyless captivity, the oppressiveness of despair, the stultifying
drudgery of the slave. Uneasily Pandion asked himself whether or not his
creative inspiration had left him, whether or not he was capable of becoming
a great artist. At the same time he felt that he had seen and experienced
much that had left its mark on him, that had enriched him with a great
knowledge of life, with numerous unforgettable impressions.
Pandion would often gaze lovingly at the spear presented to him by the
father of his lost Iruma, the spear that he had carried through plains and
forest, the spear that had so often saved him in moments of mortal danger.
He regarded it as a symbol of manly courage, a guarantee of human
fearlessness in the struggle against the Nature that reigns supreme in the
hot expanses of Africa. He would carefully stroke the long blade before he
returned it to the bag that Iruma had stitched. This piece of leather,
brightly embroidered in wool, was all that was left to remind him of the
distant, kind and gentle girl that he had met at the crossroads on his
difficult journey home. With these thoughts in his mind Pandion turned to
look at the dark mountains that stood between the ocean and the country he
had passed through. The endless days of that long journey floated slowly
before his eyes. . . .
And over all stood the image of Iruma, full of life, and beckoning him
irresistibly . . . . She was the same as he had seen her the last time,
standing against the trunk of the tree whose flowers were like red torches.
. . . Pandion's heart began to beat faster. His imagination gave him a
perfect picture of the sheen of her dark and tender skin, her mischievous
eyes filled with the fires of passion. . . . Iruma's tiny round face drew,
close to his and he heard the endearing notes of her voice. . . .
Pandion gradually became acquainted with the manners and customs of
Kidogo's jolly and friendly people. They were tall, their black skins had a
coppery hue, all of them were well built. Most of them engaged in
agricultural pursuits. They cultivated the low palms for their oil-bearing
nuts and also bananas, huge herbaceous plants with gigantic leaves that
spread fanwise from a bunch of soft stems. The curved, crescent-shaped fruit
of the banana plant grew in huge clusters and provided tasty and aromatic
food. Bananas were gathered in large numbers and formed the staple diet of
the people. Pandion enjoyed them greatly, eating them raw, boiled or fried
in oil. The local inhabitants also engaged in hunting, gathered ivory and
skins and also collected the magic, chestnut-like nuts that had cured
Pandion of his strange torpor; they also kept poultry and herds of cattle.
There were many skilled craftsmen amongst Kidogo's people-builders,
smiths and potters. Pandion admired the work of many artists whose skill was
no whit less than that of Kidogo.
Their huge houses, built of squared stones, sun-baked brick or hard,
rammed clay, were all decorated with intricate and beautiful ornaments
carved with great precision on the walls. In some cases the walls were
decorated with highly coloured frescoes that reminded Pandion of the ancient
frescoes in Crete. He saw earthenware vessels of beautiful shape and covered
with fine drawings, delicately executed. In the buildings devoted to public
meetings and in the houses of the chiefs there were many coloured wooden
statues. Pandion greatly admired the carvings of people and animals in which
characteristic features were portrayed by the faithful recording of the
artist's impression.
Pandion, however, considered that the sculptors of Kidogo's tribe
lacked a profound understanding of form. The same was true of the masters of
Aigyptos. The statues of Tha-Quem were lifeless in their fixed poses despite
the precision with which they were carved and the brilliant finish that
resulted from many centuries of experience. Kidogo's people, on the
contrary, recorded in their carvings the most acute impressions but only in
partial, deliberately stressed details. When the young Hellene pondered over
the work of the local craftsmen, he had a vague feeling that the path to
perfection in sculpture must lie in some completely new direction and not in
the blind effort to reproduce nature nor in attempts to reflect certain
partial impressions.
Kidogo's people loved music and played on complicated instruments made
of rows of little wooden planks fixed on long hollow gourds. Some of the sad
and tenderly expansive songs affected Pandion greatly, reminding him of the
songs of his homeland.
Cavius was sitting beside the dying fire near their house, chewing
stimulating leaves* and pensively stirring with a stick ashes in which
yellow fruits were baking.
( Leaves from any bush of the Sterculiaceae family.)He had learned to
make flour from bananas and bake cakes from it.
Pandion came out of the house, sat down beside his friend and looked
idly over the high rows of the houses and at passers-by.
A soft evening light descended on the dusty paths and was lost in the
motionless branches of the shady trees.
Suddenly Pandion's attention was attracted to a passing woman. He had
noticed her when they first arrived at Kidogo's village, but since then had
not chanced to meet her. He knew that it was Nyora, the wife of one of
Kidogo's relatives. Even in a tribe whose women were famous for their
beauty, Nyora was outstanding. She walked slowly past the friends with all
the dignity of a woman who was conscious of her own beauty. Pandion gazed at
her in frank admiration, and the creative urge came back to him in all its
former strength.
Nyora wore a piece of greenish-blue cloth tightly bound round her
loins; a string of blue beads, heavy heart-shaped earrings and a narrow gold
band on her left wrist were her only ornaments. Her short black hair was
gathered on the crown of her head and braided in a fantastic style that made
her head seem longer. Her big eyes showed calm from under long lashes and
the cheek-bones under the eyes formed little round hillocks, like those of
healthy and well-fed children amongst the Hellenes.
Her smooth black skin was so resilient that her body seemed to be cast
from iron; it shone in the rays of the setting sun, its coppery hue turning
to gold. Her long neck, inclined slightly forward, gave her head a proud
poise.
Pandion admired Nyora's tall and lithe figure, her easy but restrained
movements. To him she seemed like an incarnation of one of the three Graces,
goddesses that, according to the belief of his country, had control over
living beauty and made its attraction irresistible.
Suddenly the Etruscan gave Pandion a light tap on the head with his
stick.
"Why don't you run after her?" asked Cavius, half in joke and half in
chagrin. "You Hellenes are always ready to fall in love with a woman. . . ."
Pandion looked at his friend without anger but rather as though he were
seeing him for the first time and then threw his arms impetuously round his
shoulders.
"Listen, Cavius, you don't like to talk about yourself. . . . Aren't
you at all interested in women? Don't you feel how beautiful they are? Don't
you feel that they are part of all this," Pandion made a sweeping circle
with him arm, "the sea, the sun, the beautiful world?"
"No, whenever I see anything beautiful I want to eat it," laughed the
Etruscan. "I'm only joking," he added in serious tones. "You must remember
that I'm twice as old as you and behind the bright face of the world I can
see the other side that is dark and ugly. You have already forgotten
Tha-Quem." Cavius passed his finger over the red brand on Pandion's back. "I
never forget anything. I'm jealous of you, you will create beautiful things,
but I can only wreak destruction in the struggle against the forces of
darkness." Cavius was silent for a few moments and then continued in a
trembling voice: "You don't often think of your own people back at home. . .
. It is many years since I saw my children; I don't even know whether they
are alive, whether my clan still exists. Who knows what may have happened
there, in the midst of hostile tribes. . . ."
The sorrow that tinged the voice of the always reticent Etruscan filled
Pandion with sympathy. But how could he comfort his friend? And then the
Etruscan's words struck home painfully: "You don't often think of your own
people back home. . . ." If Cavius could say such things to him. . . . Could
it be true that Thessa, his grandfather, Agenor, all meant so little to him?
If such were not the case, he would have become as morose as Cavius, he
would not have absorbed the great variety of life, and how would he have
learnt to understand beauty? Pandion's thoughts were so full of
contradiction that he could not understand himself. He jumped up and
suggested to the Etruscan that they go to bathe. The latter agreed, and the
two friends set out across the hills beyond which, at a distance of five
thousand cubits from the village, lay the ocean.
A few days before this Kidogo had gathered together the young men and
youths of the tribe. The Negro told his people that his friends had no
property of any kind except their spears and loin-cloths and that the Sons
of the Wind would not take them aboard their ships without payment.
"If every one of you helps them just a little," said Kidogo, "the
strangers will be able to return home. They helped me escape from captivity
and return to you."
Encouraged by the general approval that followed, Kidogo suggested that
they all go with him to the plateau where the gold deposits were and that
those who could not go should contribute ivory, nuts, hides or a log of
valuable wood.
Next day Kidogo informed his friends that he was going away on a hunt,
but refused to take them with him, recommending that they save their
strength for the forthcoming journey.
Kidogo's travelling companions, therefore, knew nothing of the real
object of his expedition. Although the problem of payment for the journey
home worried them, they hoped that the mysterious Sons of the Wind would
hire them as rowers. If the worst came to the worst, Pandion knew he would
be able to offer the stones that came from the south, the old chief's gift
to him. Cavius, also without a word to Kidogo, gathered the Libyans together
two days after his Negro friend had left and set out up the river in search
of blackwood trees; he wanted to fell a few of them and float them
downstream on rafts of light wood as the ebony and other blackwoods were too
heavy to float in water.
Pandion was still lame, and Cavius left him in the village despite his
protests. This was the second time that his comrades had left Pandion alone,
the first time had been when they went on the giraffe hunt. Pandion was
infuriated, but Cavius, superciliously thrusting out his beard, said that on
the first occasion he had not wasted time and could do the same again. The
young Hellene was in such a rage that he could not speak, and he rushed away
from his friend, feeling deeply insulted. Cavius ran after him, slapped him
on the back and asked his forgiveness, but, nevertheless, insisted on
Pandion remaining behind, to complete his recovery.
After a long argument Pandion agreed; he regarded himself as a pitiful
cripple and hurriedly hid himself in the house so as not to be present when
his healthy comrades were leaving.
Left alone Pandion felt a still stronger urge to test his ability-he
thought of his success with the statue of the elephant trainer. He had seen
so much death and destruction during the past few years that he did not want
to have anything to do with such an unenduring medium as clay; he wanted to
work with more durable material. No such material was at hand and even if he
found it, he still had no tools with which to carve.
Pandion often admired Yakhmos' stone which, Kidogo insisted, had in the
end brought them to the sea, for Kidogo naively believed in the magic
properties of things.
The clear transparency of the hard stone gave Pandion the idea of
carving a cameo. The stone was harder than those normally used for such
purposes in Hellas where they were polished with emery stone from the Island
of Naxos, in the Aegean Sea. Suddenly he remembered that he had stones that
were harder than anything else in the world, if the old chief of the
Elephant People was to be believed.
Pandion took out the smallest of the stones from the south and
carefully drew its sharp edge along the edge of the bluish-green crystal-a
white line appeared on the hard surface of the stone. He pressed harder and
cut a deep furrow such as a chisel of black bronze would cut in soft marble.
The unusual hardness of the transparent stones from the south was in all
truth greater than anything then known to Pandion. He had magic tools in his
hands that made his work easy.
Pandion smashed the little stone and carefully collected all the sharp
fragments; with the aid of hard pitch he fixed them into wooden handles.
This gave him a dozen chisels of various thicknesses suitable both for rough
carving and for the cutting of fine lines.
What should he carve on that bluish-green crystal that Yakhmos had
obtained from the ruins of a temple thousands of years old and which he had
carried safely to the sea, the sea for which it had served as a symbol
during the long years of stifling captivity on land? Pandion's head was
filled with vague ideas.
He left the village and wandered about alone until he reached the sea.
For a long time he sat on a rock, staring into the distance or watching the
shallow water that ran across the sand at his feet. Evening came and the
shortlived twilight robbed the sea of its sheen; the movement of the waves
could no longer be seen. The black velvet of the night became more and more
impenetrable, but at the same time big, bright stars lit up in the sky and
the celestial beacons, rocked in the waves, brought life to the dead sea.
Pandion threw back his head and traced the outlines of constellations
unknown to him. The arc of the Milky Way spread across the sky like a silver
bridge, just as it did over his own country, but here it was narrower. One
end of it was split up by wide dark stripes and separate dark patches. To
one side and below the Milky Way two nebulous star clouds gleamed with a
bluish-white light. (* The Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, big star
clusters and nebulae in the Southern Hemisphere.) Close beside them he could
see a huge impenetrable black patch, shaped like a pear, as though a
gigantic piece of coal hid all the stars in that part of the sky. (** The
Coalsack-a concentration of black, opaque matter in the sky of the Southern
Hemisphere.)
Pandion had never seen anything like it in the sky at home in the north
and was astonished at the contrast between the black patch and the white
star clouds. Suddenly the young Hellene sensed the very essence of Africa in
that black and white contrast. In its direct and clear-cut crudity this was
the combination which made up Africa, its whole aspect, as Pandion conceived
it. The black and white stripes of the extraordinary horses..? the black
skin of the natives, painted with white colour and accentuated by their
white teeth and the whites of their eyes; articles made from black and
pearl-white wood; the black and white columns of the tree-trunks in the
forest; the brightness of the grasslands and the darkness of the forests;
black cliffs with white streaks of quartz-all these and many other things
passed before Pandion's eyes.
His homeland on the poor rocky shores of the Green Sea was quite
different. There the stream of life was not a tempestuous flood; its black
and white sides were not in such open conflict.
Pandion stood up. The boundless ocean, on the other side of which was
Oeniadae, cut him off from Africa, the country that lay hidden morosely
behind the night shadows of the mountains and that in his heart he had
already left. In front of him the reflections of the stars ran across the
waves, and away there in the north the sea joined his native Oeniadae where
Thessa was standing on the shore. For the sake of returning home, for the
sake of Thessa, he had fought and struggled through blood and sand, through
heat and darkness, against countless dangers from man and beast.
Thessa, distant, loved and unapproachable, stood like those hazy stars
above the sea, where the edge of the Great Bear just touched the horizon.
It was then that the solution came to him: on the stone, the enduring
symbol of the sea, he would create the image of Thessa standing on the
shore.
In a frenzy Pandion squeezed the chisel in his hand until the strong
stick broke. For several days he had been working on Yakhmos' stone with
beating heart, stemming his impatience with difficulty, at times drawing a
long line with confidence, at others cutting tiny marks with infinite care.
The image was becoming clearer. Thessa's head was a success-that proud turn
of the head stood before him as clearly as it had done in the hour of
farewell on the seashore at Cape Achelous. He had carved the head in the
transparent depths of the stone, and now the frosted blue face stood out in
sharp relief on the mirror-like surface of the stone. Locks of hair lay in
easy free lines where a clear-cut arc marked the curve of the shoulder, but
further-further Pandion suddenly found that he had lost his inspiration. The
young artist, more confident in himself than he had ever been before, cut in
bold sweeping lines the fine outlines of the girl's body, and the beauty of
the lines told of the success of his undertaking. Pandion cut away the
surrounding surface of the stone to bring his carving into even sharper
relief. It was then that he suddenly realized that it was not Thessa that he
had drawn. In the lines of the hips, knees and breast the body of Iruma came
to life, and there were certain features that undoubtedly owed their
existence to his last impression of Nyora. Thessa's figure was not the body
of the Hellene girl-Pandion had created an abstract image. He had wanted
something else, he had wanted to depict the living Thessa" that he loved. He
tried hard to get rid of the impressions of recent years by a supreme effort
of memory, but it proved impossible, the new was still too fresh.
Pandion felt much worse when he realized that once again he had proved
unable to breathe life into an image. While the figure was still in outline,
there had been life in its lines. As soon as the artist tried to bring the
flat figure into relief, however, it turned to stone, it became cold and
inert. And so, after all, he had not fathomed the secrets of art. This
image, too, would remain lifeless! He would not be able to put his ideas
into effect!
After he had broken the chisel in his agitation, Pandion took the stone
and examined it at arm's length. No, he could not create the image of
Thessa, and the wonderful cameo would remain unfinished.
The sun's rays shone through the transparent stone, filling it with the
golden tinge of his native seas. Pandion had carved the figure of the girl
on the extreme right-hand edge of the biggest surface of the stone, leaving
most of it still untouched. The girl with the face of Thessa, but who was
not Thessa, stood at the edge of the stone as though she were standing at
the edge of the sea. The enthusiasm that had inspired Pandion to work from
dawn to dusk, waiting impatiently for the coming of each new day, had left
him. Pandion put the stone away, gathered" his chisels and straightened his
aching back. The grief of defeat was made lighter by the realization that he
could still create a thing of beauty... but, alas, how poor it was in
comparison with the living being! He had been so immersed in his work that
he ceased awaiting the return of his comrades. A little boy who came running
up to him took Pandion's mind away from his dark thoughts.
"The man with the thick beard has come and has sent for you to go to
the river," announced Cavius' messenger, proud of the task entrusted to him.
The fact that Cavius had stayed by the river and sent for him to go
there worried Pandion. He hurried to the river-bank along a path that wound
its way through thorn-scrub. From a distance he could see a group of his
companions on the sandy river-bank, standing around a bunch of reeds on
which lay a man's body. He hopped clumsily along, trying not to step on his
injured foot, and entered the circle of silent friends. He recognized the
man lying on the reeds as Takel, a young Libyan who had taken part in the
flight across the desert. The Hellene knelt down-and bent over the body of
his comrade. Before Pandion's eyes flashed a picture of the stiflingly hot
gorge in the sandstone mountains where he plodded along half-dead from
thirst. Takel was one of those followers of Akhini who had brought him water
from the well. Only now that he knelt before Takel's body did Pandion
realize how near and dear to him was everyone who had taken part in the
insurrection and the flight. He had grown used to them and could not imagine
life without them. For weeks Pandion might not have anything to do with his
companions when he knew that they were safe, each going about his own
affairs; but this sudden loss crushed him. Still on his knees he turned
inquiringly to Cavius.
"Takel was bitten by a snake in the undergrowth," said Cavius sadly,
"while we were wandering in search of blackwood. We didn't know any cure-"
he sighed deeply -"so we abandoned everything and sailed back down the
river. When we carried him ashore, Takel was already dying. I sent for you
to say good-bye to him ... it was too late. . . ." Cavius, his head bowed,
clenched his fists, and did not finish what he was saying.
Pandion stood up. Takel's death seemed so senseless and unjust to
him-not in a glorious battle, not in the struggle against wild beasts, but
here, in a peaceful village where he had promise of a return home after
great deeds of valour and courageous fortitude on the long journey. This
death caused the young Hellene great pain; he felt the tears welling up in
his eyes and to conceal them stared hard at the river. On either side of a
sand-bank rose the green walls of dense thickets of reeds so that the mound
of light-coloured sand seemed to stand in open green gates. At the fringe of
the forest grew gnarled and twisted white trees with tiny leaves. From all
the branches of these trees hung luxuriant garlands of bright red flowers (*
Combretum purpureum) whose fluffy flat clusters looked like transverse bars
of red threaded on thin stems, some of which hung down in garlands, while
others pointed upwards to the sky. The flowers gave off a red reflection,
and the white trees burned in the green gates like funeral torches at the
gates of the nether world to which the spirit of the dead Takel was on its
way. The dull leaden waters of the river, broken by banks of yellow sand,
rolled slowly along. Hundreds of crocodiles lay on the sand-banks. On a
sandy spit near where Pandion was standing, several of the huge reptiles had
opened their jaws in their sleep, and in the sun they looked like black
patches surrounded by the white spikes of their terrible teeth. The bodies
of the crocodiles sprawled out on the sand as though they were flattened by
their own weight. The long folds of the scaly skin of their bellies lapped
over flat backs covered with rows of protuberances of a lighter colour than
the black-green spaces between them. Paws, with their joints awkwardly
turned outwards, stretched on either side in an ugly pose. Now and again one
of the reptiles would flick its long ridged tail against another who, his
sleep disturbed, would close his mouth with a snap that resounded loudly
down the river.
The wayfarers raised the body of the dead man and carried it in silence
to the village under the alarmed glances of villagers who came running up.
Pandion walked behind, away from Cavius. The Etruscan considered himself
guilty of the death of the Libyan since the idea of hunting for ebony had
been his. Cavius walked beside the sad procession, biting his lip and
running his fingers through his thick beard.
Pandion also felt qualms of conscience. He also felt himself guilty.
What right had he to grow enthusiastic over the carving of the girl he
loved, at a time when he should have busied himself with something in memory
of the fighting friendship of people of different races who had passed
through all trials together, had remained true in face of death, hunger and
thirst, in the sorrowful days of their wearisome march. "Why did this idea
not occur to me before?" the young Hellene asked himself. Why had he
forgotten the friendship that had grown up in the fight for freedom? Not for
nothing had his work been a failure -the gods had punished him for his
ingratitude. . . . Let today's sorrow teach him to see better. . . .
Like a herd of buffaloes, the low purple and grey clouds crawled
heavily across the sky, bunching together in a solid mass. Dull rumbles of
thunder filled the air. A tropical downpour was on its way, and people
hurriedly took everything that had been lying about into their houses.
Cavius and Pandion had only just time to take cover in their house when the
huge bowl of the heavens tipped over, and the roar of the falling water
drowned even the peals of thunder. As usual the rain soon stopped, the
vegetation gave off an acrid smell in the fresh, humid air, and countless
streams gurgled faintly as they made their way to the river and the sea. The
wet trees rustled dully in the wind. The noise was grim and sad, nothing
like the rapid rustle of leaves on a fine dry day. Cavius sat listening to
the noises of the forest and said suddenly:
"I can't forgive myself Takel's death. It was my fault; we went without
an experienced guide, and we are strangers in this land where carelessness
means death. The result is that we have no ebony and one of our best
comrades lies dead under a heap of stones on the river-bank. . . . A high
price to pay for my foolishness. . . . I can't make up my mind to try again,
and we have nothing to pay to the Sons of the Wind."
In silence Pandion took a handful of the sparkling stones out of his
bag and laid them before the Etruscan. Cavius nodded his head in approval,
but suddenly doubt showed on his face.
"If they don't know the value of these stones, the Sons of the Wind may
refuse to take them. Who has heard of such stones in our countries? Who will
buy them as valuables? Although. . . ." Cavius paused to think.
Pandion took fright. Cavius' simple explanation of their position had
not entered his head before. He had lost sight of the fact that the stones
might have no value in the eyes of the merchants. The hand he stretched out
towards the stones trembled in consternation and fear for the future. Seeing
the alarm in Pandion's face, Cavius spoke to him again. "I seem to have
heard that transparent stones of great hardness were sometimes brought to
Cyprus and Caria from the distant east and had a very high value. Perhaps
the Sons of the Wind know that?..."
The morning after his talk with Cavius, Pandion set out along a path
that led to the foothills where the bananas grew. It was time for Kidogo to
return, and his friends were awaiting him in impatience; they wanted his
advice on how to obtain something valuable for the Sons of the Wind. Cavius'
doubts had shattered Pandion's faith in the stones from the south and the
young Hellene now knew no peace. Without realizing it Pandion set out
towards the mountains in the hope of meeting the expedition of his Negro
friend. Apart from everything else, he wanted to be alone to think out a new
work of art that was beginning to take form in his mind. Pandion walked
soundlessly along the hard trampled earth of the footpath. He was no longer
lame and his former easy gait had returned to him. Local people, loaded with
clusters of yellow fruits, whom he met on the way, grinned at him or waved
bunches of leaves to him as a sign of friendship. The path turned to the
left. Pandion walked on between solid green walls of succulent vegetation,
filled with the golden glow of sunlight. In the hot glare of the sun a woman
whom Pandion recognized as Nyora was moving gracefully along the path. From
the hanging clusters of bananas she was selecting the greenest fruits and
packing them in a high basket. Pandion stood back in the shadow of the huge
banana leaves and the feelings of the artist put all other thoughts out of
his mind. The young woman went from one bush to another, her figure bent
gracefully over the basket, and again she stretched up on tiptoes, straining
her entire body to reach the higher fruits. The golden sunlight sparkled on
her smooth black skin, accentuated by the bright green background of leaves.
Nyora gave a little jump, her body arched into a curve as she plunged her
hands into the velvety foliage. Pandion was so engrossed that he caught
against a dry twig, and a loud crackle broke the silence. In an instant the
young woman turned round and stood stock-still. Nyora recognized Pandion,
and the body that had been tensed like the string of a musical instrument
immediately became calm as she smiled at the young Hellene. Pandion,
however, noticed nothing. A cry of ecstasy broke from his lips and his
wide-open golden eyes stared at Nyora without seeing her, his mouth opened
in a faint smile. The astounded woman stepped back from him. The stranger
suddenly turned and ran away shouting something in a language she could not
understand.
Pandion had suddenly made a great discovery, something he had been
groping for unconsciously but persistently, something he had always been
very near to in his unceasing mental search. He would never have found it if
he had not made comparisons and had not sought new paths for his own art.
That which has life in it can never be immobile. In a beautiful living body
there is never dead immobility, there is only repose, the moment when a
movement has been completed and is changing to another movement, its
opposite. If he could seize that moment and reproduce it in the motionless
material, the dead stone would live.
This is what Pandion had seen in the motionless Nyora, when she stood
still like a statue cast from black metal. The young Hellene went away alone
to a tree in a small glade. If anybody had seen him there, he would have
been sure that Pandion was mad: he was making jerky movements, bending and
straightening his arm or his leg, and trying hard to follow the movements,
twisting his neck and straining his eyes till they hurt. He did not return
home until evening. He was excited and had a feverish gleam in his eye. To
Cavius' great astonishment, Pandion made him stand up in front of him, march
about and halt at his command. At first the Etruscan was patient with his
friend and his antics, but at last he could stand it no longer and sat down
on the ground with an air of determination. Even then Pandion gave him no
rest. He stared at him as he sat there, first from the right and then from
the left, until Cavius, letting out a stream of profanity, said that Pandion
had a touch of fever and threatened to tie him up and lay him down on the
bed.
"You can go to the crows!" shouted Pandion in a joyful voice. "I'm not
afraid of you; I'll twist you up like the horn of the white antelope."
Cavius had never seen his friend in such a childishly jolly mood
before. He was glad of it, for he had long been aware that Pandion was
spiritually depressed. He muttered something about a boy who was making fun
of his father and gave Pandion a light blow; Pandion immediately calmed down
and announced that he was as hungry as a wolf. The two friends sat down to
supper, and Pandion tried to explain his great discovery to his friend.
Contrary to Pandion's expectations, Cavius showed interest in the matter and
asked Pandion many questions, trying to understand the nature of the
difficulties that faced the sculptor in his efforts to depict real life.
The two friends sat talking for a long time, until it was quite dark.
Suddenly something stood in the way of the stars that shone through the
open doorway, and Kidogo's voice gave them a pleasant thrill. The Negro had
returned unexpectedly and decided to pay an immediate visit to his friends.
When they asked him about the results of the hunt, he gave them an
indefinite answer, said he was tired and promised to show his trophies the
next morning. Cavius and Pandion told him about the expedition in search of
ebony and about Takel's death. Kidogo was infuriated and in his frenzy
showered curses upon his friends, said that their actions were an insult to
his hospitality and even went to the extent of calling Cavius an "old
hyena." In the end the Negro grew calmer-his sorrow at the death of a
comrade was greater than his wrath. Then the Etruscan and the Hellene told
him that they were worried about finding something to pay the Sons of the
Wind with and asked his advice. Kidogo showed the greatest indifference to
their worries and went away without having answered their questions.
The despondent friends blamed Kidogo's strange behaviour on to his
sorrow at the death of the Libyan, and both of them for a long time tossed
sleeplessly on their beds, pondering over the situation.
Late next morning Kidogo came to them with an expression of shrewd
cunning on his kindly face. He was accompanied by all the Libyans and a
crowd of young men of his tribe. Kidogo's people winked at the puzzled
strangers, whispered amongst themselves, laughed loudly and shouted snatches
of incomprehensible phrases. They hinted at the sorcery that was supposed to
be a feature of their people and said that Kidogo was possessed of the
ability to turn ordinary sticks into ebony and ivory, and river-sand into
gold. The strangers had to listen to all this nonsense on their way to
Kidogo's house. Kidogo led them to a small storeroom, a building that
differed from the other simple houses in that it had a door which was closed
from the outside by a huge stone. With the aid of several of his men Kidogo
rolled the stone away, and the young people stood on either side of the
wide-open door. Kidogo, bending down, entered the storeroom, beckoning to
his friends to follow. Cavius, Pandion and the Libyans did not know what it
was all about and stood for some time in the gloom until their eyes got
accustomed to the half light coming through a narrow gap that encircled the
wall under the eaves. Then they saw a number of thick black logs, a pile of
elephant tusks and five big baskets filled to the top with medicinal nuts.
Kidogo watched the faces of his comrades attentively as he spoke to them.
"All that is yours. My people have gathered it all for you to make your
journey pleasant and easy! The Sons of the Wind ought to take a couple of
dozen passengers and not one for such a price. . . ."
"Your people are making us such a present," exclaimed Cavius, "what
for?"
"Because you are good people, because you are brave men, because you
have performed so many deeds of valour and because you are my friends and
helped me return home," chanted Kidogo, trying to appear imperturbable. "But
wait a minute, that isn't all!" The Negro stepped to one side, thrust his
hand down between the baskets and picked up a bag of strong leather as big
as a man's head.
"Take this," said Kidogo, handing the bag to Cavius.
The Etruscan held out his hands palm upwards and almost dropped the bag
as his arms bent under the weight of it. The Negro roared with laughter and
danced a few steps as a sign of pleasure. The loud laughter of the youths
outside was like an echo.
"What is it?" asked Cavius, clutching the heavy bag to his breast.
"How can you, a wise old soldier, ask such a question?" said Kidogo in
the merriest of tones. "As though you don't know that there's only one thing
in the world that is as heavy as that."
"Gold!" exclaimed the Etruscan in his own language, but the Negro
understood him.
"Yes, gold," he said.
"Where did you get so much?" put in Pandion, pinching the tightly
packed bag.
"Instead of hunting we went to the plateau where gold is found. For
eight days we dug the sand there and washed it in water. . . ." The Negro
paused for a moment and then added: "The Sons of the Wind won't take you to
your homes. When you reach your own seas,, your roads will be different, and
everybody will have to make his own way home. Divide the gold and hide it
carefully so that the Sons of the Wind won't see it."
'"Who else went on that 'hunt' with you?" asked Cavius.
"All these people," said Kidogo, pointing to the young men crowding
round the door.
Deeply touched and filled with joy, the friends hurried to thank the
Negroes. The latter, confused by this display of gratitude, shifted from one
foot to the other and one by one drifted away to their houses.
The friends left the storeroom and pushed the stone back in front of
the door. Kidogo had suddenly become silent, his gaiety had gone. Pandion
drew his black friend towards him, but Kidogo immediately slipped out of his
embrace, placed his hand on the Hellene's shoulder and stared deep into his
golden eyes.
"How can I leave you!" exclaimed Pandion.
The Negro's fingers dug into his shoulder.
"The God of Lightning be my witness," said Kidogo in a dull voice, "I
would give all the gold on the plateau, I would give everything I have, down
to the last spear, if you would remain here with me for ever. . . ." There
was an expression of pain on the Negro's face and he covered his eyes with
his hands. "But I do not even ask that of you." Kidogo's voice trembled and
broke off. "I learned the meaning of home when I was in captivity. . . . I
realize that you cannot stay ... and I, as you see, am doing everything to
help you go. . . ." The Negro suddenly released his hold of Pandion and ran
away to his own house.
The young Hellene stared after his friend and tears made a haze before
his eyes. The Etruscan heaved a heavy sigh behind Pandion's back.
"The time will come when you and I must part," he said softly and
sorrowfully.
"Our homes are not very far apart and ships sail between them very
often," said Pandion, turning round to him. "But Kidogo ... he will remain
here on the outer edge of Oicumene."
The Etruscan did not say another word.
Now that Pandion was sure of the future he gave himself up
wholeheartedly to his art. He was in a hurry; the magnificence of
friendship, cemented in the struggle for freedom, was a tremendous
inspiration that compelled him to hurry. He could already see the details of
his cameo.
The three men must stand embracing each other against the background of
the sea towards which they had struggled, the sea that promised them return
to their homes.
On the larger flat side of the stone Pandion had decided to depict the
three friends, Kidogo, Cavius and himself, in the sparkling, transparent
light of the expanses of the sea which the bluish-green stone represented as
nothing else could.
The young sculptor made a few sketches on thin pieces of ivory such as
the women of the tribe used to grind and mix some sort of ointment. The
discovery that he had made necessitated his having a living figure
constantly before his eyes. This, however, presented no difficulty since the
Etruscan was with him the whole time, and Kidogo, feeling that the ships
would soon be coming, left his own work to spend as much time as possible
with his friends.
Pandion often asked the Etruscan and the Negro to stand in front of him
with their arms round each other's shoulders, which they, laughing at him,
always did.
The friends often sat talking together for a long time, confiding to
each other their most secret thoughts, their worries and their plans, and
deep down in each of them the realization that they must part dug into his
heart like a thorn.
While Pandion talked he did not waste time but worked persistently on
his hard stone. At times the sculptor would sit in silence; his glance would
become sharp and penetrating-he was trying to catch some detail in the
features of his friends that was important to him.
The three embracing figures began to stand out in ever greater relief,
all the time becoming more lifelike. The central figure was that of the huge
Negro, Kidogo; to the right, turned slightly towards the blank space on the
stone stood Pandion, and on the left Cavius, both with spears in their
hands. Cavius and Kidogo thought that their images were very lifelike, but
insisted that Pandion had drawn his own portrait poorly. The sculptor
laughed and said that that was not important.
The figures of the friends, despite their diminutive size, were
extremely lifelike and there was real virtuosity in every line of them.
There was strong, impetuous movement in their bodies, but at the same time
there was elegant restraint in them. In Kidogo's arms, thrown around the
shoulders of the Etruscan and the Hellene, Pandion had managed to express a
movement of protection and fraternal tenderness. Cavius and Pandion stood
with heads inclined warily, almost menacingly, with the tense vigilance of
mighty warriors ready at any moment to repel the attack of any foe. The
group as a whole gave this impression of might and confidence, and Pandion
made every effort to express in his carving all the best that was in those
who had become his dearest friends on the long road from slavery to his
native land. The sculptor realized that at last he had succeeded in creating
a work of art. Kidogo and Cavius stopped making fun of Pandion. For hours
they sat with bated breath watching the movements of the magic chisel, their
new attitude towards Pandion being the expression of a vague sort of
adoration. Their young friend, bold, merry and even childish, -at times
amusing in his admiration of women, had proved himself a great artist! This
was a fact that both pleased and astonished Kidogo and Cavius.
Pandion put all his love for his friends into that burst of creative
enthusiasm. His original idea-that of carving Thessa on the stone-did not
have any further appeal. Thessa, Iruma and Nyora, women from different
peoples, were sisters in their beauty; in all of them he felt the same power
of attraction. . . . Whether they were sisters in all other respects Pandion
did not know. Could Thessa form as firm a friendship for Nyora as he had for
Kidogo? In Pandion's friendship with Cavius and Kidogo, in their comradeship
with the other fugitive slaves-but few of whom were left together now-there
was a fraternity of identical thoughts and efforts, cemented more firmly
than stone by loyalty and courage. They were real brothers although one of
them had been born here under the strange trees of Africa of a mother as
black as himself; the second had lain in his cradle in a hut that trembled
in the bitter storms of the northern lands at a time when the third was
already a warrior fighting against the fierce horsemen of the distant
steppes on the shores of a dark sea. . . . Their hearts, tested hundreds of
times in adversity, were joined by strong sinews and ... of how little
importance now were differences of country, faces, bodies and religion!
The days passed quickly. Pandion suddenly realized that three months
and a half had passed, and that the time appointed for the arrival of the
Sons of the Wind had also passed. Pandion experienced mixed feelings of
anxiety and relief-anxiety because the Sons of the Wind might never come at
all, and relief because the inevitable parting with Kidogo was being
postponed. In his wearying anxiety Pandion often left his work-it was,
incidentally, almost completed. The Hellene again began making frequent
trips to the sea, always hurrying back so as not to be long away from his
friends.
One day Pandion was making ready to go for his usual bathe in the sea.
He got up and called his friends, but they refused; they were engaged in a
heated argument on the best way to prepare leaves for 'chewing. In the
distance they suddenly heard the sounds of numerous voices, shouts and
screams of ecstasy, such as Kidogo's excitable people gave vent to on every
occasion of importance. Kidogo jumped up, his face turned ash-grey, the
pallor even spreading to his mighty chest. Staggering slightly, Kidogo ran
to his own house, shouting over his shoulder to his astonished friends:
"That must be the Sons of the Wind!"
The blood rushed to the heads of the Etruscan and the Hellene, and
they, too, set off at a run along a short path to the sea known to Pandion.
On the crest of a hill Pandion and Cavius stood still.
"The Sons of the Wind!"
The dark purple shadow of the huge mountain lay on the shore and
stretched far out to sea, dulling the sparkle of the waves and giving the
water the gloomy tones of the forest thickets. Black ships, in shape like
those of the Hellenes, with curved swanlike breasts and high prows, were
already drawn up on the greying sands. There were five of them. With their
unstepped masts they looked like black ducks asleep on the beach.
Bearded warriors in rough grey cloaks walked up and down in front of
the ships, the bronze of their shields flashing; in their hands they carried
broad battle-axes on long handles. The chiefs, the merchants and all those
who were not on guard duty must have gone to Kidogo's village. The Etruscan
and the Hellene turned back.
Kidogo awaited them impatiently at their house.
"The Sons of the Wind are with the chiefs," the Negro informed them.
"I've asked my uncle to talk to the big chief, and he himself will talk to
them about you. It will be safer that way. The Sons of the Wind will not
dare to quarrel with him and will bring you safely home." And in the Negro's
wan smile there was no joy.
Hundreds of people gathered on the shore to bid farewell to the parting
ships. The Sons of the Wind were in a great hurry; the sun was already
setting, and for some reason of their own they were determined to set out
that day. The loaded ships were slowly rocking on the swell beyond the
reefs. Amongst the other goods lay the gift of Kidogo's people-payment for
the return of the former slaves to their own countries. To reach the ships
they had to wade breast-high through the water that covered a sand-bank. The
chiefs of the Sons of the Wind held back to talk with the Negro chiefs,
asking them to prepare a greater number of goods for the next year, swearing
that they would arrive at the appointed time.
Cavius stood beside Kidogo, holding in one hand the huge bundle that
contained the skin and skull of the terrible gishu. As a parting gift Kidogo
gave Cavius and Pandion two big throwing-knives. This implement of war,
invented by the Tengrela people, consisted of a large sheet of bronze
divided into five fingers, four of them crescent-shaped with sharpened edges
and the fifth long and thin with a horn handle on it. This weapon, when
hurled by able hands, whistled through the air and killed its victim at
twenty cubits distance.
With a heavy heart Pandion looked round him, examining his new
fellow-travellers and masters. Their harsh, wind-burned faces were the
colour of dark brick; their undipped beards were tangled on their cheeks; in
their heavy gait, in the grim folds of their foreheads and lips there was
none of the kind-heartedness that was typical of Kidogo's people.
Nevertheless Pandion trusted them, perhaps because the Sons of the Wind,
like he, were loyal to the sea, lived in concord with it and loved it. Or
perhaps it was because he and Cavius met familiar words in their speech.
The Sons of the Wind willingly consented to take the former slaves with
them for the payment offered. Kidogo's uncle, Yorumefu, even bargained for a
reduction of six tusks and two baskets of medicinal nuts, which were loaded
on to the ships as the property of Cavius, Pandion and the Libyans. The Sons
of the Wind separated their passengers against their will-six Libyans on one
ship, Pandion, Cavius and the other three Libyans on another.
The harbour of the Sons of the Wind was near the Gates of the Mists, a
tremendous distance from Kidogo's country, no less than two months sailing
in the most favourable weather. Cavius and Pandion were dismayed at this;
they had had no conception of the enormous distance and realized that the
Sons of the Wind were men as skilled in their battle against the sea as were
the Elephant People in their battle against the plains of Africa. Pandion
still had to sail almost the whole length of the Green Sea from the harbour
of the Sons of the Wind to his own country; but this was a distance that was
little more than a third of that from Kidogo's village to the harbour of the
Sons of the Wind. The Sons of the Wind pacified Pandion and Cavius with the
assurance that Phoenician ships often came to them from Tyre, Crete, Cyprus
and the Gulf of Sidra.
As Pandion stood on the shore, however, he was not thinking of that. In
his confusion he stared at the sea as though he were trying to measure the
long journey before him and then turned to Kidogo. The commander of the
fleet of ships, a man with a circlet of solid gold in his curly hair,
shouted loudly, ordering them to get aboard.
Kidogo seized Pandion and Cavius by their hands, making no effort to
hide his tears.
"Good-bye for ever, Pandion, and you, Cavius," whispered the Negro.
"When you are there,-in your distant country, remember Kidogo who truly
loves you both. Re: member our days of slavery in Tha-Quem, when our
friendship was our mainstay; remember the days of the insurrection, the
flight and the great march to the sea. . . .I shall always be with you in my
thoughts. You are leaving me for ever, you who have become dearer to me than
life itself." The Negro's voice grew stronger. "I shall believe that the
time will come when people will learn not to be afraid of the expanses of
the sea. The sea will unite them. . . . But I shall never see you again. . .
. Oh, great is my grief. . . ." Bitter sobs shook Kidogo's huge body.
The friends joined hands for the last time as the Sons of the Wind
called to them from the ships.
Pandion's handclasp slackened, Cavius turned away. They stepped into
the warm water and, sliding over the slippery stones, hurried to the ships.
Pandion stepped on to the deck of a ship for the first time in many
years; he was flooded with memories of the days of happy sailing in times
long past-no more than fleeting thoughts, however, for the memories soon
disappeared. All his thoughts were concentrated on the tall black figure
standing aloof from the others on the seashore at the very edge of the
water. The oars splashed, their rhythmic beat grew faster, and the ship
passed out beyond the reefs. The seamen raised the huge sail, and the wind
carried the vessel before it.
The figures of the people on the shore grew smaller and smaller; and
soon Kidogo, lost to his friends for ever, was no more than a tiny black
dot. The deepening twilight hid the coast-line, but the dark mountain ridge
hung gloomily over the stern of the ships. Cavius wiped away a big tear, and
it was not the first. A huge bat that flew out from the coast, parallel to
which the ships were travelling, brushed Pandion's face with its wing. That
light, silky touch affected Pandion like the last word of farewell from the
land he was leaving.
It was with a sense of dismay that Pandion parted from his Negro friend
and from the land in which he had gone through so much, where he was leaving
part of his heart behind. He had a vague feeling that in future days of
weariness or sorrow, at home in his own country, Africa would appear before
his eyes beckoning and beautiful, and that only because it was lost to him
for ever, like Iruma. In abandoning everything that had become part of his
very life, in turning his face and his heart towards Hellas, Pandion was
stricken with doubt. What awaited him there, after so long an absence?
How would he settle down amongst his own people, he who was returning a
different man from the one who had left? Who would he find amongst the
living? Thessa-was she still alive, and did she still love him? Or? ...
The ships, headed westwards, dived wearily into the troughs of the
waves. The Sons of the Wind had told their passengers that they would sail
westwards for a whole month before turning north. The mighty breath of the
ocean ruffled Pandion's hair. The taciturn sailors were unhurriedly busy at
their work beside him. The Sons of the Wind, descendants of the ancient
mariners of Crete, seemed more alien to Pandion than the black-skinned
inhabitants of Africa. The Hellene squeezed the bag that hung on his
breast-it contained the stone on which was carved the image of Kidogo-and
joined his companions huddled together sadly in a corner of a strange ship.
. . .
A round, orange-coloured moon rose from behind the mountains. In its
light the ocean, the Great Arc that encircled all the lands of the world,
was furrowed with black hollows over which the brightly lit caps of the
waves glided smoothly on their way. The tiny vessels sailed bravely on,
pointing their sharp prows straight up at the star-filled sky amidst showers
of silvery spray, then racing downwards into the dull roar of the sombre
depths. To Pandion this seemed like his own life story. Far away ahead of
him the opalescent crests of the waves merged into one bright path of light,
the stars descended and rocked on the surface of the water just as they did
by the shores of his native Hellas. The ocean had accepted these courageous
men, had consented to carry them on its bosom over an immeasurable
distance-to their homes. . . .
"Eupalin, did you see that cameo cut on a stone the colour of the
sea-it is the most perfect work of art in Oeniadae, or rather, if the truth
be told, in all Hellas?"
Eupalin did not answer immediately. Listening attentively to the
strident neighing of his favourite horse, held by a strong slave, he wrapped
himself more closely in a cloak of fine wool. In the shade of the stable the
spring wind had a tinge of cold in it, although the grey slopes of the stony
hills were already covered with blossoming trees. Down below, the almond
groves stretched in delicate pink clouds; above them, higher up the slopes,
patches of dark rose, almost violet, colouring marked the thickets of dense
shrubs. The cold breeze from the hills carried with it the fragrance of
almond blossoms, the herald of a new spring in the valleys of Oeniadae.
Eupalin took a deep breath and tapped with his finger on a wooden post.
"I've heard," he began slowly, "that it was carved by the adopted son
of Agenor who's been wandering abroad for many years. He was believed dead,
but recently returned from some very distant land."
"And Agenor's daughter, the beautiful Thessa. . . . You've heard of
her, of course?"
"I've heard that she refused to marry for six years in the firm belief
that her lover would return. Her father, the artist, allowed her. . . ."
"I know that he not only consented to her waiting, but himself also
awaited the return of his adopted son."
"This is one of those rare occasions when things turn out according to
expectations. He did not die, but became Thessa's husband and a great
artist. It's a pity you did not have an opportunity to see the cameo; you
are a connoisseur and would have appreciated it!"
"I'll do as you wish and go to see Agenor. He lives on Cape Achelous
which is no more than twenty stadia from here. . . ."
"Unfortunately, you're too late, Eupalin. The artist who carved the
cameo made a present of it-just imagine!- to a friend of his, some Etruscan
vagabond. The man fell sick on the journey home and he took him to Agenor's
house, looked after him until he was well again and then gave him a jewel
that would have made all Oeniadae famous. The Etruscan rewarded him with the
skin of a disgusting beast, a horrible thing that has never been heard of
before. . . ."
"A beggar he left and a beggar he has returned. Didn't he learn
anything from his wanderings that he can make a valuable gift to anybody he
meets?"
"It's hard for you and me to understand a man who has lived so long in
strange lands. Still, I'm sorry the cameo has gone from us!"
Printed in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Last-modified: Wed, 02 Jul 2003 05:10:17 GMT