"Lord, I do not know," he answered, wringing his hands. "The third night from this is that of full moon, the full moon which marks the beginning of harvest. On that night we must carry my daughter, on whom the lot has fallen, to the island in the lake where stands the smoking mountain and bind her to the pillar upon the Rock of Offering that is set between the two undying fires. There we must leave her, and at the dawn, so it is said, Heu–Heu himself seizes her and carries her into his cavern, where she vanishes for ever. Or, if he does not come, his priests do, to drag her to the god, and we see her no more."
"Then why do you take her to the island? Why do you not call your people together and fight and kill this god or his priest?"
"Lord, because not one man among us, save perhaps Issicore yonder, who can do nothing alone, would lift a hand to save her. They believe that if they did the mountain would break into flames, as happened in the bygone ages, turning all upon whom the ashes fell into stone; also, that the waters would rise and destroy the crops, so that we must die of starvation, and that any who escaped the fire and the water and the want would perish at the hands of the cruel Wood–devils. Therefore, if I ask the Walloos to save the maiden from Heu–Heu, they will kill me and give her up in accordance with the law."
"I understand," I said, and was silent.
"Lord," went on the old Walloo presently, "here with me you are safe, for none of my people will harm you or those with you. But I learn from Issicore that you have stabbed a Hairy Man with a knife, and that your servant slew one of their women with the strange weapons that you carry. Therefore, from the Wood–devils you are not safe, for, if they can, they will kill you both and feast upon your bodies."
"That's cheerful," I thought to myself, but made no further answer, for I did not know what to say.
Just then the Walloo rose from his chair, saying that he must go to pray to the spirits of his ancestors to help him, but that we would talk again upon the morrow. After this he bade us good–night and departed without another word, followed by the old men, who all this while had sat silent, only nodding their heads from time to time like porcelain images of Chinese mandarins.
Chapter VIII
The Holy Isle
When the door had closed behind him, I turned to Issicore and asked him straight out if he had any plan to suggest. He shook his noble– looking head and answered, "None," as it was impossible to resist both the will of the people and the law of the priests.
"Then what is the use of your having brought me all this way?" I inquired with indignation. "Cannot you think of some scheme? For instance, would it not be possible for you and this lady to fly with us down the river and escape to a land which is not full of demons?"
"It would not be possible," he answered in a melancholy voice. "Day and night we are watched and would be seized before we had travelled a mile. Moreover, could she leave her father, and could I leave all my relations to be murdered in payment for our sacrilege?"
"Have you no thought in your mind at all?" I asked again. "Is there nothing that would save the Lady Sabeela?"
"Nothing, Lord, except the end of Heu–Heu and his priests. It is to you, great Lord, that we look to find a way to destroy them, as the prophecy declares will be done by the White Deliverer from the South."
"Oh, dash the prophecy! I never knew prophecies to help anybody yet," I ejaculated in English, as I contemplated that beautiful but helpless pair. Then I added in Arabic, "I am tired and am going to bed. I hope that I shall find more wisdom in my dreams than I do in you, Issicore," I added, staring at the man in whom I seemed to detect some subtle change, some access of fatalistic helplessness, even of despair.
Now Sabeela, seeing that I was angry, broke in,
"O Lord, be not wrath, for we are but flies in the spider's web, and the threads of that web are the priests of Heu–Heu, and the posts to which it is fixed are the beliefs of my people, and Heu–Heu himself is the spider, and in my breast his claws are fixed."
Now, listening to her allegory, I thought to myself that a better one might have been drawn from a snake and a bird, for really, like the rest of them, this poor girl seemed to be mesmerized with terror and to have made up her mind to sit still waiting to be struck by the poisoned fangs.
"Lord," she went on, "we have done all we could. Did not Issicore make a great journey to find you? Yes, did he not even dare the curse which falls upon the heads of those who try to leave our country, and travel south to seek the counsel of the Great Wizard, who once sent messengers here to obtain the leaves of the tree that grows in Heu– Heu's garden, the tree that makes men drunk and gives them visions?"
"Yes," I answered, "he did that, Lady, and might I say to you that his health seems none the worse. Those curses of which you speak have not yet hurt him."
"It is true they have not hurt his body—yet," she said in a musing voice, as though a new thought had struck her.
"Well, if that is true, Sabeela, may it not be true also that all this talk about the power of Heu–Heu is nonsense? Tell me, have you ever spoken with or seen Heu–Heu?"
"No, Lord, no, though unless you can save me I shall soon see him."
"Well, and has any one else?"
"No, Lord, no one has ever spoken with him, except, of course, his priests, such as my distant cousin, Dacha, who is the head of them, but whom I used to know before he was chosen by Heu–Heu to be one of their company."
"Oh! So no one has seen him? Then he must be a very secret kind of god who does not take exercise, but lives, I understand, in a cave with priests."
"I did not say that no one had ever seen Heu–Heu, Lord. Many say that they have seen him, as Issicore has done, when he came out of the cave on a Night of Offering, but of what they saw it is death to speak. Ask me and Issicore no more of Heu–Heu, Lord I pray you, lest the curse should fall. It is not lawful that we should tell you of him, whose secrets are sacred even to his priests," she added with agitation.
Then in despair I gave up asking questions about Heu–Heu and inquired how many priests he had.
"About twenty, I believe, Lord," she answered, ceasing from evasions, "not counting their wives and families, and it is said that they do not live with Heu–Heu in the cave, but in houses outside of it."
"And what do they do when they are not worshipping Heu–Heu, Sabeela?"
"Oh, they cultivate the land and they rule the Wild People of the Woods, who, it is believed, are all Heu–Heu's children. Also they come here and spy on us."
"Do they indeed?" I remarked. "And is it true that they hope to rule over you Walloos also?"
"Yes, I believe that it is true. At least, should my father die and I die, it is said that Dacha means to make war upon the Walloos and take the chieftainship, setting aside or killing my cousin and betrothed Issicore. For Dacha was always one who desired to be first."
"So you used to know Dacha pretty well, Lady?"
"Yes, Lord, when I was quite young before he became a priest. Also," she added, colouring, "I have seen him since he became a priest."
"And what did he say to you?"
"He said that if I would take him for a husband perhaps I should escape from Heu–Heu."
"And what did you answer, Lady?"
"Lord, I answered that I would rather go to Heu–Heu."
"Why?"
"Because Dacha, it is reported, has many wives already. Also I hate him. Also from Heu–Heu at the last I can always escape."
"How?"
"By death, Lord. We have swift poison in this country, and I carry some of it hidden in my hair," she added with emphasis.