O'er Many Lands, on Many Seas by Gordon Stables (top 10 most read books in the world .txt) π
William Gordon Stables was born in Aberchirder, in Banffshire (now part of Aberdeenshire). After studying medicine at the University of Aberdeen, he served as a surgeon in the Royal Navy. He came ashore in 1875, and settled in Twyford, Berkshire, in England.
He wrote over 130 books. The bulk of his large output is boys' adventure fiction, often with a nautical or historical setting. He also wrote books on health, fitness and medical subjects, and the keeping of cats and dogs. He was a copious contributor of articles and stories to the Boy's Own Paper.
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summoned to the palace yard or grounds, and first I had to fight the
king, then a boy of my own standing. Well, I am afraid that if I
suffered in body and mind from my encounter with the king, I took it out
of the smaller savage to follow. There was some satisfaction in that.
But one day, to show his own wonderful powers of fisticuff, the king
summoned a crowd of his warriors to his palace, and made them form a
great ring. Then I was ordered in and pitted against an Indian boy
bigger than myself. I never cared how big they were, they held their
arms wide and hit downwards as if thumping a piano.
After one or two boys had been disposed of, to the wild delight of the
warriors, the king took a drink of rum and handed the leather bottle to
his chief executioner; then he took off his extra garments--his one boot
and his crown, an old tin kettle without a bottom to it--and stood up in
front of me. I went down several times according to my own programme,
and the savages shook their spears and rattled them against their
shields of buffalo hide, and shouted and shrieked to their hearts'
content.
Then the king hit me rather hard, and I suppose my English pride was
touched, for the next thing I remember is--horror of horrors!--the
sacred person of his Majesty King Otakooma sprawling on the dusty ground
and his nose bleeding.
A silence deep as death fell on all the crowd.
Then there was a rush for me. Spears were at my breast and I expected
only instant death, when the king sprang to my rescue and all fell back.
If I had knelt to him and begged his pardon, even then I might have been
forgiven.
But an English youth to sue on his knees for mercy from a savage! Nay,
it was not to be thought of.
The king sat down.
The king was silent for a space of time. The king took more rum.
Then he ordered ropes of skin to be brought, and I was bound hand and
foot and taken away to a loathsome dungeon.
I knew I was to die next day, and I longed for sunrise to have it past,
for I suffered excruciating agony from the tightness of the cords that
bound me.
The time came. I was to form part in a procession, and did; I was
carried shoulder-high, lying on my back on a kind of bark tray, amid
tom-tom beating, howling, shrieking, and a deal of capering and dancing
that at any other time I should have laughed most heartily at.
At the execution ground goats and cocks were killed, then it came to my
turn.
The king came to have a last look at me. The cords were undone, and I
stood up staggering because my feet were swollen. The king looked at my
hands: they were swollen double the size.
The king rubbed his nose.
The king was thinking.
"Now," he must have thought, "here is a hand (meaning my swollen fist)
that couldn't hurt anybody. What a chance to redeem my lost honour!"
The king took more rum.
Then he started from his throne and shouted. What he said matters
little. At the conclusion of his speech I was again dragged up to fight
the king. If I could have hit him then I would have done so. But with
such hands, how could I? So it ended in my being fearfully punished.
Then there was such shouting and yelling as I had never before heard in
my life. But I was free.
The king took more rum.
For a whole year after this I was kept under almost constant
surveillance, but there was no more fighting.
Sometimes the king and his savages went away on the war-path, for many
weeks together. When they did so, I was confined in a dungeon, and had
no other companions except frogs, lizards, and centipedes. All the food
they gave me was a piece of dried cassava root [the root from which
arrowroot is made], daily, and I had very little water.
But in spite of my hardships, I grew strong and robust. Probably, if I
had not been a friendless orphan, if I had had a mother for instance, or
a father, or sisters, or brothers, in a far-off home to think about, my
misery would have been greater; as it was I had no one, for I believed
that Roberts and all the people of the _Niobe_ had been slain in that
terrible fight at Zareppa's fort.
Amelioration of my sufferings came at last, and in a strange way.
The king fell ill.
The king took more rum.
The king grew worse, and all the sorcery of his medicine men could not
cure him, so I was sent for.
I had seen Jooma putting poison into the rum, and I told the king he had
been poisoned. Who had done so? he asked: the culprit should die. No
human being, I was determined, should die on account of anything I said.
I told him, however, that next day I should fetch the evil creature who
had destroyed the health of the king. Meanwhile the rum was poured on
the ground, and I made him a pill of the poison berry, and a little
scraped cassava root. He saw me mix it. His medicine men assured him
it would be death to take it; I took a pill myself, and when he saw I
did not die, he followed my example, and took two or three. For I had
found out that in small doses this poison berry was medicinal. The king
slept, and awoke refreshed.
Then he called for the culprit who had dared to poison his rum.
I went and found Jooma. I told him that his guilt was discovered, and
that his life was in my hands; that a word from me would march him to
the execution ground. He knelt and prayed for mercy. I told him he
needn't trouble, that Englishmen were far too honourable to harbour
revenge. Then I made him bring a very old and savage billy-goat, and
together we brought it to the king.
The king was greatly pleased. He said he never had liked the looks of
the billy-goat, and he had no doubt that it had worked some deadly spell
upon his rum. So the billy-goat--poor beast--was slain, and after a few
more pills the king got better, and I was chief favourite among all the
tribe.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
"But what avails this wondrous waste of wealth,
This gay profusion of luxurious bliss?
Ill-fated race! the softening arts of peace,
Kind equal rule, the government of laws,
These are not theirs."
Thomson.
I became the king's head-counsellor, his prime-minister, so to speak,
his chief medicine man. There was not much honour in this, certainly,
but nevertheless it procured me some amelioration of my sufferings.
There was less of the dungeon after this, and fewer threats of
decapitation.
I think the king still hankered after rum, and it was an anxious day for
me when some Arab chiefs appeared in camp. Otakooma assembled not only,
all his forces but most of his people. Something was going to happen, I
knew, but till now I had had no idea of the utter depravity of this
wretch.
He was positively going to barter his people for rum. The Arabs would
buy them as slaves.
It was terrible to see these same Arabs walking round among the sable
mob, as calmly as a farmer does among a herd of cattle, and picking one
out here and there. But, oh! the grief, and the agony, and the anxiety
displayed in voice and in action by these poor doomed creatures--the
scene defies description. Here was the child torn shrieking from its
mother's side, there a wife separated from her husband, or a husband
from a weeping wife.
Some indulged their grief quietly, others gave vent to loud howls and
lamentations; while others lay moaning and groaning on the ground, ever
and anon taking up great handfuls of dust, and throwing it up over their
poor heads!
I could not help turning away and shedding tears. But had they been
tears of blood they could not have saved these people. They were
relentlessly marched away, and I was really glad when night fell, and
sleep sealed the eyes of even those who mourned.
It was bright clear moonlight. I rose from my couch, and stole out into
the open air. I wanted to think. The close warm atmosphere of the tent
seemed to stifle me, and I could not sleep.
I passed slowly up the beaten footpath towards the king's tent. There
was not a single soul astir, it had been a busy exciting day with
everyone, and the king had been liberal enough in his offers of rum to
his chief favourites; and although some of them ought to have been doing
duty as sentinels near to his sacred person, they had preferred
retirement and slumber.
I stole away from the camp, and ascended an eminence some distance from
it, and sat me down on a rock. It was cool and pleasant here, away from
that blood-stained camp. The moonlight flooded all the beautiful
country, bathing plain and rock and tree in its mellow rays. The only
sounds that broke the stillness were the yapping howl of the cowardly
jackal, and farther off in the woods the mournful roar of lions.
It was a lovely scene, but terrible in its loveliness. I buried my face
in my hands. I was boldly struggling against my sorrow. How long, I
thought, would this life last? Should I live and die among these
terrible savages? Escape there seemed none. To attempt it, I knew,
would end in failure, and probably in death by torture. I was many
hundreds of miles from the sea. I did not even know in what direction
Zanzibar lay. No, I must wait for a time, at all events. What mattered
a year or two more to one so young as I!
I suppose this last reflection had some kind of a drowsy influence on
me, for I lay down with my head on a piece of rock, and with face
upturned to the sky, fell fast asleep.
How long I had slept I know not. I awoke with a start: something cold
had touched my face, and I had heard a creature breathing close at--
almost into--my ear. I started, as well I might. The thing that had
waked me was a jackal; but there, not thirty yards away, standing boldly
out against the moonlit sky, was a gigantic lioness!
There was astonishment depicted in every line of her great face.
Strange to say, at that moment I could not help thinking that she looked
far from cruel, and I could not help admiring the splendid animal. I
never moved, but gazed as if spell-bound. Probably it was my fixity of
look that saved me, for after staring steadily, but wonderingly, at me
for fully a minute, she turned round and stalked solemnly off, giving
many a look behind, as if expecting I should follow her.
I waited till she was well away. I felt very happy at that moment, and
very bold. I went straight back to camp, and approached the tent of the
king, and softly entered. He was fast asleep and snoring. In the
matter of rum he had been even more liberal to himself than to his
followers. There lay the skins of spirits in a corner, not far from the
couch of the drunken king. I hesitated not a moment, but seizing the
king's own dagger, I stabbed--not the king, but the skins of rum.
Then I hastened away with my heart in my mouth. Remember, I was very
young.
There were terrible doings next day in camp, and, I'm sorry to say, more
than one human sacrifice. I, as medicine man and chief sorcerer, went
through a great many mummeries, which I managed to make last all the
forenoon. I was endeavouring to find out the wretch who had dared
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