Alan lay back upon his cushions full of wonder, almost
of awe. It was a marvellous thing that he should have lived to reach
this secret place hidden in the heart of Africa and defended by swamps,
mountains and savages to which, so far as he knew, only one white man
had ever penetrated. And to think of it! That white man, his own uncle,
had never even held it worth while to make public any account of its
wonders, which apparently had seemed to him of no importance. Or perhaps
he thought that if he did he would not be believed. Well, there they
were before and about him, and now the question was, what would be his
fate in this Gold House where the great fetish dwelt with its priestess?
Ah! that priestess! Somehow he shivered a little when he thought of her;
it was as though her influence were over him already. Next moment he
forgot her for a while, for they had come to the river brink and the
litter was being carried on to a barge or ferry, about which were
gathered many armed men. Evidently the Gold House was well defended both
by Nature and otherwise. The ferry was pulled or rowed across the river,
he could not see which, and they passed through a gateway into the town
and up a broad street where hundreds of people watched his advent.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214