Randall Parrish - Prisoners of Chance

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Directly past these priests we were driven like cattle, finding
ourselves plunged into a vast square gloomy apartment, having an
earthen floor, but utterly devoid of either furnishings or ornament.
There was another mat-draped opening at the farther side, and in the
centre a huge log smouldered, resting upon what bore the appearance of
a rudely chipped altar of rock. About this were ranged numerous
fancifully painted statues of wood, grotesque and hideous, while a
third figure, attired as were the aged priests without, lay prone upon
the earth moaning as if in agony. The walls were hung thickly with
undressed skins of wild animals, and at the back stood a slightly
upraised platform of logs, cut in halves by a narrow passageway leading
toward the second curtained door. It was in the midst of this we
halted, still under strict surveillance of our brutal guards. These,
however, permitted us to sink down exhausted on the hard floor.

CHAPTER XXII

PRISONERS IN THE TEMPLE

A fear of impending danger will not always prove sufficiently strong to
prevent yielding to the demands of fatigue. I realized the desperation
of our position, feeling no doubt regarding our ultimate fate. I read
it plainly in our surroundings, as well as within those vengeful,
scowling faces, yet so dulled was every physical sense from excessive
weariness that I had passed through much already described like a man
in a dream. The brief repose of the previous night, broken by nervous,
superstitious terrors, the anxious effort to escape from the haunted
canyon, the hurried labor on our rude defences, the two fierce combats
with the savages, my numerous wounds, none dangerous yet weakening me
by loss of blood, together with the rapid marching and the difficult
climb up the cliff, combined to exhaust my vitality so completely that,
the moment we halted within the sacred precincts of this temple, I
flung myself full length upon the floor. I remember the sun had
already disappeared behind the western heights. I retain some slight
memory of a tender hand resting softly on my forehead, of a familiar
voice questioning me, yet if I made response, it must have been in the
unconsciousness of sleep, as these faint remembrances were my last.

I had no means of telling how long I lay thus, close against the north
wall of the building in that very posture in which I had first fallen.
It must have been after hours of unconsciousness I was at last
partially aroused by the reviving touch of cool water with which my
face was being bathed. As I slowly unclosed my heavy eyes the huge
smouldering log in the centre of the room burst into sudden flame,
lighting the interior, casting weird, dancing shadows along the black
walls, its red radiance falling upon the face bending above me, and
permitting me to look into the dark, troubled eyes of Eloise de Noyan.

"There is no necessity for moving," she explained softly. "Nothing of
moment has occurred since you fell asleep, except that the savages
brought us food."

"Have you been watching over me all this time without rest?"

"Nay; at least no more over you than the others," she answered with a
smile, "yet you appeared in greatest stress. The others have been some
time awake and have partaken of food while you remained in stupor. Do
not look at me like that! I am not tired; I was borne all the way upon
a litter, never once placing foot upon the ground."

"Have you knowledge as to the hour?"

"Only that it must be well into the night."

I lifted my body into a more erect posture, finding myself stiff and
sore from head to foot, and glanced curiously around our prison-house.
In the centre was the blazing log, the sole bit of color my eyes could
perceive. Kneeling upon either side were the motionless figures of
four priests, robed from head to foot in black, their faces, darkened
by some pigment, appearing ghastly and repulsive under the flickering
flame. Their lips muttered in monotonous chant a weird incantation
which sent to my heart a chill of superstitious dread. High above the
altar, blackened by the constantly ascending cloud of smoke, swayed
uneasily a peculiar graven image of wood, hideous in disfigurement of
form and diabolical of visage, appearing to float upon outspread wings,
and gloating down upon us through eyes glittering ominously in the fire
sheen. At either extremity of the apartment, where I supposed were the
entrance and exit previously noted, stood those savages remaining on
guard, grim, naked fellows, whose restless eyes, gleaming in the glow,
followed our slightest movements, and whose weapons were constantly
uplifted as though they longed for some excuse to strike. It composed
a grewsome scene, savage, cruel, devilish, exhibiting within its gloomy
outlines small promise for the morrow.

The old Puritan was leaning heavily against a small stake driven into
the earth, resting his aching head upon one hand as he peered at me
from beneath thatched brows.

"You have a white face, Master Benteen," he ventured, wondrously soft
spoken for him, "yet if the heart remain strong and at peace with God,
the body will mend itself."

"The heart has never yet failed me," I returned, striving to speak
cheerfully, feeling that he would like to hear hearty English words
again. "I am glad to behold you safely recovered, friend; that was a
hard crack they landed on your skull."

"'T is not the will of the Almighty that I ignominiously perish at the
hands of the heathen," he responded in his old manner, and as his voice
roared out, not unlike a clap of thunder in that silence, I observed
how the savages about us started. "Again, and yet again hath He
miraculously delivered his servant from the mouth of the lion. Surely
He must yet have labor for me in His vineyard; perchance the bearing
unto these children of Amalek the message of peace."

"Do you propose preaching unto them?"

"Ay, why not? Inspired thereunto by the Spirit, I have already sought
serious converse with yonder priest of Baal, kneeling at this side of
that accursed shrine of idolatry. Yet so wedded is he to idols of wood
and stone, he merely chattered back at me in unintelligible speech, and
when I laid hand upon him to compel him to listen, the brown savage
beyond grievously thrust me with a spear. But I retain faith that the
Lord, in His own time, will open up a way unto their rebellious and
sinful hearts."

"Such way may be opened, yet I fear these savages will only take
unkindly your efforts at ministry, even if they permit opportunity for
the carrying on of such work."

"I should be overjoyed to minister unto them with the sharp edge of a
steel blade," interposed De Noyan decidedly, and I noticed him for the
first time, lying beyond his wife. "What do you expect, Master
Benteen, these villains will do to us?"

"I read no sign of mercy in any face yet seen," I answered cautiously.
"It would be against all savage nature to forgive the loss of those
warriors sent home this day."

"You look for death?"

"I expect nothing less, and by torture; still they may permit us the
slight chance of the gantlet, although I know not the war customs of
the tribe."

He subsided into silence, as though my words merely echoed his own
gloomy thought, and for a few moments no sound arose except the dismal
droning of the priests about the altar. Then Cairnes silently pushed
over toward me what remained of their evening meal, and I forgot gloomy
forebodings in a new realization of hunger. It was while thus busily
engaged Madame spoke to me, whispering her words softly, so that they
could not reach the ears of the others.

"If the end prove according to our fears, could you outline my probable
fate?"

No lack of courage prompted the question, I could perceive that in her
eyes as they looked into my own, and some way their expression yielded
me boldness to answer truthfully.

"I am afraid, Madame, you may be spared," I said gravely.

Her hands closed down tightly about each other.

"That is what renders my heart so heavy in this peril, Geoffrey
Benteen. I could die easily, without tremor, beside you; nor would I
shrink back from torture, did it of necessity come to me, for I possess
a faith in Christ which would sustain me in such an ordeal. But
this--O God!--it is too much! The thought that I may be reserved for a
worse fate than death, may be compelled to live for months, perhaps
years, as the humiliated companion of these murderous savages--I, a
lady of France! It is more than I can bear."

I saw tears shining in her eyes, and my hand, seeking her own, closed
over it with sympathetic pressure.

"God grant there be some escape," I said earnestly; it was all that
came to my lips.

"But I feel there is none. I have not lived upon the border of this
vast wilderness all my life without learning something regarding the
customs of savages. If they spare a woman from stake or knife it is
that they may doom her to a fate more horrible, making of her their
degraded slave. I know this, and have read the truth anew in those
faces glaring upon me to-day. There remains but one faint hope--that
woman who seems to exercise control over them may incline the savages
to mercy."

"I cannot encourage you to place much trust in such tenderness," I
confessed sadly. "'T is not likely, despite her white face, and
certain graces bespeaking knowledge of civilization, she will prove any
less a savage than those she governs. She would not be here, able to
control so wild a brood of wolves, if she were not of their breed in
heart; nor do women chiefs have much choice against the vote of the
tribe. I do not trust her, Madame; I studied her face--a fair one, I
grant--as she stood in the sun upon the rock summit. It was hard set,
and savage with the scent of blood and battle. No mercy led her to
protect us then; like a great cat she prefers playing with her mice
before killing. Has she been here while I slept?"

"No one has visited us excepting the old chief who led the assault; he
did nothing but strike the Puritan, who sought speech with him."

She paused a moment, her head bent low; then she lifted her face to
mine again, and I read within it the quick determination of her soul.

"Geoffrey Benteen, listen. What would you do to save her who was
Eloise Lafreniere from such a fate of horror as now overhangs her?"

"Anything within the power of a man," I answered instantly, a painful
throbbing at the heart. "I would even drive the saving steel into your
heart to keep you unsoiled from the clutch of such foul hands. Ay!
hard as the task must prove, yet I could do it, believing I performed
the will of God as I struck the blow. But even for that I am helpless,
as I possess no weapon."

I felt her hands touch mine, something cold being pressed against my
flesh.

"I thank thee, Father, there is one whom I may trust even unto death,"
she sobbed prayerfully. "Take this knife, Geoffrey Benteen. The
Indians did not think to search a woman for such weapons of war. If
the moment comes when all hope is gone, when naught else is left, I
pray you, as a helpless woman utterly dependent upon your aid, let that
sharp point save me endless shame and agony. Have I your promise?"

"But--but why not ask this of your husband?" I questioned, shrinking,
in spite of my belief in its righteousness, from the committal of so
dreadful a deed.

"Surely he would better make answer for the necessity of so desperate a
sacrifice."

Her dark eyes never wavered from my face, nor did her hands relax their
confident grasp of mine.

"Not because I believe he would refuse, but he is of a temper
changeable as the winds of Spring. I must rest in peace, not in
perpetual doubting. You I trust implicitly; your word, once gravely
given, will be kept to the death; nay, surely this is no time in which
to practise deceit with each other, or act parts like mummers upon the
stage. I know you love me even as of old. I know this, Geoffrey
Benteen, and will abide in my extremity with no other promise than your
own."

"Eloise," I answered, strangely calmed and strengthened by her faith,
"it shall be as you wish. I thank you for the words, and am better for
them. When the last faint hope flees, and dishonor or death alone is
left, I will strike that blow which sets free your soul."

I felt her kisses and tears commingled on my roughened hands, but
before further words might be uttered, the heavy mat concealing the
western entrance was suddenly lifted, and in from the dark night there
stalked in solemn silence and dignity a long line of stalwart savages.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE VOTE OF DEATH

I have already written that I was never easily affected by supernatural
fears, yet something about that grim entrance chilled the very blood.
There was no cessation of the monotonous, dismal chanting of the
priests, as these newcomers,--whose sinister purpose no one could
doubt,--moving with the silence of spectres, their bodies draped in
shapeless robes of skin, appearing ghostlike beneath the uncertain
flickering of flame, moved forward like a great writhing snake, passed
along the southern wall beneath the face of the flying dragon overhead,
until they found seats on the hard floor between altar and platform;
two or three, evidently superior chiefs, by their richer trappings,
ascended the raised logs and solemnly squatted thereon, so as to face
us. How many composed this uncanny company I cannot say, having failed
to count as they filed past, yet they completely filled the great room
with scowling, upturned faces, and were probably all the available
warriors of the tribe.

This was accomplished in stealthy silence, as wild animals creep upon
their prey, nor did any among them take seats until the old
war-chief--he who had led the assault in the gulch--made signal to that
end. Responding to a second gesture, we were driven roughly forward by
our guard, until permitted to sink down once more, directly in their
front, within full focus of their cruel eyes.

It was a fearful spot to be in. That dark interior, dimly lighted by
fitful bursts of flame, seemed more the abode of the damned than a
place of human habitation, nor was there anything to remind us of mercy
in that savage company gloating over our desperate plight. No one of
us doubted what fate dwelt in the decision of that grewsome gathering,
and in those faces we saw nothing except eagerness for revenge. It was
their speechless silence, their stolid imperturbability, which rested
heaviest upon me. It told plainly that we were helpless victims of
their cruel pleasure. Deliberately, as if desirous of prolonging the
agony of our uncertainty, for more than an hour--to us it seemed an
age--they sat thus, unmoved as so many statues, except for their
restless eyes, while the four ministering priests, robed in black from
throat to sandals, slaughtered animals beneath the frowning shadow of
the huge winged dragon, pouring warm blood over the stones of the
altar, or smearing it upon their faces. Then, appearing fiendishly
hideous, ghastlier than words can fitly picture, these revolting
figures began with wild chanting to make offerings to their gods,
dancing and capering before the flame to an accompaniment of dismal
music, burning some incense which polluted the air.

It was a hellish scene, arousing every sleeping devil within those
savage hearts; it preyed upon our strained nerves, and the Puritan lost
all control, roaring out objurgations on the foul, idolatrous crowd
until he was silenced by the sharp tap of a guard's club on his bushy
pate. Nor was it easy for De Noyan to remain quiet, while Madame hid
her shocked white face in her hands, venturing not to glance up while
the sound of these rites continued. Whatever this religious
ceremony--for such I supposed it to be--may have symbolized, it was
finally concluded by the entire party uniting in a fierce chant. As
grim silence settled once more throughout the black interior, the old
war-chief, appearing taller than ever in the weird light, and rendered
peculiarly repulsive by the bandages wrapping his wounds, rose to his
feet, commencing an impassioned address.

No word spoken was intelligible to us, yet I knew so well the nature
and customs of savages as to experience little difficulty in deciding
the purpose of this harangue. Without doubt the fellow demanded an
immediate sacrifice in payment for the loss inflicted on their tribe.
With this conception as guide I noted his continually pointing toward
us, one after another, as if singling us out as special subjects for
denunciation, perhaps for torture, as with each he seemed to associate
a peculiar term, repeating it again and again with changing cadence, as
if thus to force its dread significance more firmly home into the minds
of his listeners. The word I distinguished most frequently had the
sound "_ca-tah_," which became associated in my thought as some special
form of torture to which he desired us sentenced. Nor did I fail to
remark in this connection, my every faculty alert and strained to grasp
the slightest revealment, that, whenever the orator's baleful glance
rested upon the shrinking woman, his lips uttered another word, his
silent audience nodding as though in assent to each demand.

One followed another, no doubt in accordance with rank. Those chiefs
upon the platform spoke first, each in turn seeming to pronounce
against us in favor of that same unknown fate, making use of those two
words, gesticulating toward us as they gave judgment. Nowhere amid all
that vengeful black circle did I discern a single face not set in
savage hatred, while slowly at first, but gathering force as it
proceeded, there passed from lip to lip the sullen murmur of that dread
word "_ca-tah_." As it was pronounced each voter pointed at us, three
times making repetition of the word, until the last warrior had spoken,
and we knew that our doom had been formally pronounced by a tribunal
knowing no mercy, from whose decision there was no appeal.

No hapless prisoner confined, as I have read they were in olden times,
within a dungeon whose walls slowly closed to crush him into pulp,
could have seen the coming of death, resistless and horrible, with
clearer vision than was ours as that group of savages pronounced our
doom. It was by exercising the greatest effort of will that I
conquered the dread sense of utter hopelessness which seemed to numb my
every faculty; for, although I was to be tortured to the end, and
perish at last in utmost physical agony, yet before that moment came
there still remained a duty to be performed for one I loved. For that
I must retain mind and strength to act like a man.

Slowly, cautiously, moving inch by inch across the small space
intervening, so as not to attract the attention of our guard, I crept
forward, pausing at last close beside Madame. Even as I reached her
the final warrior cast his useless vote with the others, the excited
concourse voicing appreciation in noisy acclaim. I bent low, trembling
from weakness, until my lips were close to her ear.

"Eloise," I whispered softly, forgetting at the awful moment that she
possessed another name, "it has been voted that three of us perish by
torture, but you are not in the list; you are named for a different
fate. Is it still your wish that I fulfil the pledge?"

As she glanced up, the old war-chief pointed directly toward her. I
could perceive the baleful gleam of his eyes, and noted with what quick
aversion she shrank back until her shoulder pressed my own.

"Yes, Geoffrey Benteen," she made immediate, resolute answer. "It will
be mercy. I beg you strike."

"You forgive the blow?"

"Forgive!" An instant her clear eyes, unfrightened, looked directly
into mine, a message in their depths I had never seen there before.
"More, I love the heart and hand which speed it."

My hands were bound tightly together, but my arms remained free, the
hilt of the knife resting firmly between the palms. Although I drew my
body somewhat back in readiness for the stroke, I delayed the terrible
deed until the last possible moment, the perspiration standing in great
beads upon my face. Oh, how I loved her then! how my half-blinded eyes
feasted upon her sweet, sad face, the flames casting a ruddy glow upon
it, and playing fitfully amid the masses of her dark, tangled hair!
There swept across my mind every memory of our past, and she was again
with me in her girlhood, before sorrow had stamped her with its seal,
and she had turned me away tenderly as ever a woman could. And now she
was doomed to death by my hand; with one blow I was to blot out the
life I loved a thousand times better than my own. Merciful God! what a
trick had fate played me! Nor durst I speak to her again, for her
fingers toyed with the rosary at her throat, the beads glowing dully in
the flame, and I knew she was in prayer, expecting with each instant
the coming of that stroke which should send her trusting soul to God.
I, who have seen much of conflict and peril, much of suffering and
atrocity, look back on no moment in all my life so fraught with agony
as this, when, grasping that deadly knife in both hands, I watched
every threatening movement of the savage arbiters of her fate, praying
unto God for strength with which to perform my duty.

At last the chiefs stood erect. In response to their gestures of
command, the massed warriors below sprang to their feet, flocking
eagerly toward us, giving utterance to one deep vengeful cry. Already
their clutches were upon the struggling Puritan, when I swung high the
gleaming knife in both my hands. For one terrible second I met her
unflinching gaze, a glance which will abide with me until my dying
day--then the keen steel fell, barely deflected from the heart,
slashing open the bosom of her dress, yet--thanks be to a kind
God!--finding harmless sheath, not within her quivering flesh but in
the hard-packed earth. It was scarcely less than a miracle that I was
thus able to turn the blow, but, even as I aimed it, putting to the
hilt my full strength that I might send it surely home, there came into
my vision a sudden flash of bright color against the dark, skin-draped
wall, and I knew the Queen had come.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE DAUGHTER OF THE SUN

At first my dimmed eyes beheld her through a mist, my hands shaking as
if stricken by palsy, nor did I retain sufficient strength of body to
uplift myself from the spot where I had fallen with the force of my
blow. Nevertheless I shall forever retain the vivid picture imprinted
on memory. Before us stood a tall, fair-skinned woman, having dignity
of command in every movement, her face thin, strong, dominant, with
large, dark, passionate eyes, flashing in scornful beauty over the
excited warriors at her feet. Pride, power, imperious will, a scarcely
hidden tigerish cruelty, were in every line of her features; yet she
remained strikingly handsome, with that rare beauty which drives men
mad and laughs mockingly at its victims. She was robed completely in
red, the brilliant color harmonizing strangely with her countenance,
the single outer garment extending, devoid of ornament, from throat to
heel, loosely gathered at the waist, and resembling in form and drapery
those pictures I have seen of Roman togas, while her magnificent wealth
of hair, of richest reddish gold, appeared to shimmer and glow in the
sparkle of leaping flames as if she wore a tiara of rubies.

With quick, passionate speech she poured forth her purpose, and I saw
the savage throng shrink before her, as if they knew and dreaded the
outburst of her anger. Yet, as she paused breathless, the old
war-chief ventured to face her, returning a stern reply. This
disregard of her temper so imparted courage to the others that they
rallied about their leader as one man, numerous hoarse voices
supplementing his protest, until it was plain to be seen that the woman
remained alone and unsupported against the savage crew. Yet the lines
of determination but deepened in her face, her lips curled in scorn,
and she turned from them to look down where we were huddled in despair.
A moment her flashing eyes swept across our upturned faces, the howls
of her opponents growing fiercer on every side. With one imperious
gesture she commanded silence, and, as the gruff voices died away in
muttered discontent, the woman addressed us, speaking a clear, pure
Spanish, making use now and then of words unknown to me.

"Prisoners, can any among you interpret my speech?"

I caught my breath in glad surprise, struggling to my feet, and making
haste to answer.

"If you speak slowly," I said, "I shall be able to understand."

"'Tis well, as it is a tongue unknown to these Indians," her eyes
lighting up with cunning. "Then, Senor, mark with care what I say,
and, if the meaning of any escape your ears, bid me speak again, so no
mistake be made."

"It will give me great pleasure, O Queen."

"I am the Daughter of the Sun," she interposed proudly, as if
correcting my mode of address. "These are my children, given unto me
by the great Sun-god. For what purpose have you of white skin dared
invade the land of the Sun?"

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