The Giant's Finger

: The Great White Queen

FOR quite three weeks we pushed forward through the interminable forest

until one day we came to a small village beyond which lay a great broad

river glistening in the noon-day sun. It was the mighty Comoe. We had

entered the kingdom of Anno. In the village I saw traces of human

sacrifices, and Omar, in reply to a question, told me that although these

happy-looking natives were very skilful weavers and dyers who did a

risk trade in fu, a bark cloth of excellent quality--which I found

afterwards they manufactured from the bark of a tree apparently of the

same species as the much-talked-of rokko of Uganda--they nevertheless

at the death of a chief sacrificed some of his slaves to "water the

grave," while the memory of the departed was also honoured with gross

orgies which lasted till everything eatable or drinkable in the village

was consumed.



We only remained there a few hours, then embarked in three large canoes

that were moored to the bank awaiting us. The chief of the village came

to pay his respects to Omar, as the son of a ruling monarch, and

presented us with food according to the usual custom.



Soon, amid the shouts of the excited villagers who had all come down to

see us start, our canoes were pushed off, and the carriers, glad to be

relieved of their packs, took the paddles, and away we went gaily up the

centre of the winding river. Emerging as suddenly as we had from the

gloomy forest depths where no warmth penetrated, into the blazing

tropical sun was a sudden change that almost overcame me, for as we rowed

along without shelter the rays beat down upon us mercilessly.



The banks were for the most part low, although it was impossible to say

what height they were because of the lofty hedges of creeping plants

which covered every inch of ground from the water's edge to as high as

fifty feet above in some places, while behind them towered the

black-green forest with here and there bunches of brilliant flowers or

glimpses of countless grey trunks. Sometimes these trees, pressing right

up to the edge of the warm sluggish water, grew horizontally to the

length of fifty feet over the river. Creepers, vines, whip-like calamus,

twisting lianes and great serpent-like convolvuli grew in profusion over

everything, while the eye caught glimpses everywhere of gorgeous clouds

of insects, gaily-plumaged birds, paraquets, and monkeys swinging in

their shaded bowers.



Basking on the banks were crocodiles and hippopotami, while the river

itself swarmed with fish and water-snakes. And over all rose the mist

caused by heat and moisture, the death-dealing miasma of that tropic

world.



But all were in good spirits, for rowing was more pleasurable than

tramping in that dismal monotonous primeval forest that rose on either

side, therefore against the broad, slowly-flowing waters our carriers

bent to their paddles, grinning and joking the while.



Throughout that day Kouaga sat near us, smoking and thinking. Perhaps the

responsibilities of State weighed heavily upon him; perhaps he was

contemplating with trepidation the passage that would be necessary

through a country held by the enemies of Mo; at all events he was morose

and taciturn, his dark face bearing a strange, stern look such as I had

never before noticed.



During the weeks I had been travelling up country I had embraced every

opportunity of improving my knowledge of the curious language spoken by

Omar and his mother's subjects, until I found I could understand a large

portion of a conversation and could even give directions to our carriers

in their own tongue.



Omar was in high spirits, eager, it seemed, to return to his own people.

He took a gun and some ammunition from one of the cases that Kouaga had

conveyed from England and gave us an exhibition of his skill with the

rifle. He was a dead shot. I had no idea he could aim so true. As we sped

past in our canoe he would raise his weapon from time to time and pick

off a bird upon the wing, or fire directly into the eye of some basking

animal, causing it to utter a roar, lash its tail and disappear to die.

He seldom missed, and the accuracy of his aim elicited from the sable

rowers low grunts of admiration.



A lazy and enjoyable week we thus spent in the ascent of the Comoe,

mostly through forest scenery or undulating grass-lands. By day our

rowers bent with rhythmic music to their paddles, and at evening we would

disembark, cook our food, and afterwards with Kouaga and my friend I

would sleep in our canoe upon the heap of leopard skins that formed our

couches. Here we were free from the pest of the myriad insects we had

encountered in the forest; and at night, under the brilliant moon, the

noble river and giant trees presented a fine picture of solitary

grandeur. Onward we pressed through the flourishing country of the

Jimini, where we saw many prosperous villages of large roomy houses of

rectangular form and reed thatched, wide tracts under cultivation with

well-kept crops of cotton and rice. Everywhere we passed, without

opposition, and with expressions of good-will from the natives.



One evening when the blood-red sun had sunk low in the water behind us,

we suddenly rounded a sharp bend of the river and there burst upon us,

rising on our right high into the clouds, the great snow-capped crest of

Mount Komono. Near its base it was hidden by a bank of cloud, but above

all was clear and bright, so that the summit had the appearance of being

suspended in mid-air.



"The Giant's Finger at last!" cried Omar, jumping up excitedly and

pointing at the mountain. "We leave the river a little higher up, and

push again across the bush a twelve days' journey until we come to the

Volta, which will take us forward to the boundary of Mo."



"The Volta!" I cried, remembering the incident at school when he had

answered correctly the master's question as to the estuary of that river,

and had been dubbed "the Guinea Pig." "Why could we not have ascended it

from the sea?"



"Because we should, by so doing, pass nearly the whole distance through

the country of Prempeh, of Ashanti, one of our bitter foes. The Adoo, the

Anno, and the Jimini kings have long ago made blood-brotherhood with our

chiefs, therefore we are enabled to pass in peace by this route alone."



Before darkness fell we disembarked at a small village on the left bank,

the name of which I learnt was Tomboura, and after our evening meal were

given a hut in which to spend the night. Soon after dawn, however, we

heard Kouaga astir, giving rapid orders to the carriers, and when we went

out to go down to the canoes they were nowhere to be seen. We noticed,

however, that the carriers were preparing their loads which they had no

doubt landed during the night, and Omar, advancing towards the Grand

Vizier, asked:



"Why do we not ascend the river further? We must cross to the other side

if we would join the Great Salt Road."



"Dangers lurk there, O my Master," the negro answered, hitching his

burnouse about his shoulders. "We must travel by a circuitous route."



"Did not my mother command me to speed unto her?" Omar asked, puzzled.

"Is it not necessary that we should travel by the shortest path?"



"The safest is the shortest," Kouaga answered with a frown.



"But by following this bank we are turning our backs upon Mo. See!" and

he produced from his pocket an instrument which I did not know he

possessed, a cheap mariner's compass.



"Bah!" cried Kouaga in anger, after he had looked at it a long time.

"That clock of the white men has an evil spirit within. See! its

trembling finger points always in the direction of the Great Evil. It is

bewitched. Cast it away. Kouaga has already made fetish for this

journey."



"But why should we travel in an entirely opposite direction to Mo?" I

argued, seeing that a crowd of grinning impish-looking carriers had

gathered around us, enjoying our controversy.



"For three-score years Kouaga has lived in the forest and on the plains,"

he answered, turning to me. "He knows the direction of Mo."



"Oh, let him have his own way," Omar cried at last, finding persuasion of

no avail. Then turning to the Grand Vizier he said in a firm tone:

"Listen, Kouaga. If by your obstinacy we are delayed one single day, I

shall inform my mother of that fact, and you will assuredly lose your

office and most likely your head also. Therefore act as you think fit.

Omar, Prince of Mo, has spoken."



"Kouaga bore the staff of the Great White Queen unto thee. He is the

trusted of the Naya, if not of her son," the negro answered, turning

away. But in that brief instant I noticed an expression on his face of

relentless cruelty. An expression such as one might expect to see upon

the face of a murderer.



Truth to tell, I had never liked Kouaga; now I instinctively hated him.

But ere he had strode a dozen paces he turned back smiling, saying:



"I mean no defiance to the Son of my Queen. He is in my charge, and I

will take him safely back unto Mo, the city with walls unbreakable, the

capital of the kingdom unconquerable."



"I shall act as I have decided," Omar answered with true princely

hauteur. "The rulers of Mo never depart from their word."



"Very well," the other answered laughing, at the same time lighting his

pipe with cool indifference. Then, glancing round to see that all was

ready, he shouted an order to the head-man and the string of carriers

moved away, jabbering and shouting, down the path into the dark gloomy

forest depths.



In ill-humour we followed. I must confess that towards Kouaga I

entertained an ill-defined feeling of distrust. Once or twice during that

day's march in the dull dispiriting gloom, almost every ray of daylight

being shut out by the thick canopy of creepers spreading from tree to

tree, I had caught Omar surreptitiously consulting his pocket compass,

and saw upon his face a look of anxiety. Yet, on the other hand, Kouaga

had become particularly jocular, and the carriers were now singing

snatches of songs, joking, and laughing good-humouredly at each other's

misfortunes, whereas on our journey from the coast to the river they had

generally preserved a sullen silence.



No. Try how I would I could not rid myself of the thought that there was

something very mysterious in Kouaga's actions.