Chapter XI: A Desperate Adventure

In the village square, along which the banana trees threw their shadows in a regular pattern, Wanda stopped. Looking round her, she examined the village. Behind their mud walls the cabins appeared silent and lifeless ... the quiet wrapped them round and seemed to stifle them with its great weight. Wanda stood in doubt. From these huts carefully closed and shuttered and about which the dusk was already creeping, from this deserted square, from all this silence and this stillness of people and things she drew a peculiar impression of doubt and hostility.

In spite of herself, the feeling possessed Wanda. She stood motionless, unable to make up her mind. For a moment she hesitated between the temptation of keeping the appointment which Jieng, with her reticent half-finished sentence, had practically promised her, and the sensation, every moment more strong, that danger was about her.

The day slowly faded. Driven by the breeze, the last of the clouds were moving overhead in piled up fleecy rolls which the sun here and there fringed with scarlet.

From the forest round about the discordant cries of a peacock shrilled like a trumpet, and the sounds of the night began to make themselves heard: the sweet and tremulous calling of a pair of wood pigeons, the ringing call of a wild cock, and the sharp whistlings of the mandarin birds....

The image of Michael, imprisoned by the sorceress, came imploringly to the mind of the young girl.

Immediately making a decision, she walked straight to the hut of the priestess. As she came near it, the door opened and Jieng appeared. The crimson light of the flame from the hearth at the back of the cabin showed her in clear silhouette. Watchfully, she stood regarding the young girl. Wanda greeted her.

"You see, Jieng, I am punctual."

She spoke in Banhar, slowly, and picking her words.

The sorceress bent her head slightly.

"I expected you," she said, simply; and she drew aside to let the stranger enter.

Keeping their eyes on each other, they sat down on the bench side by side....

There was silence for several seconds. Then, resolutely, Wanda began the contest.

"I have come alone," said she, "alone, as I said I would."

Jieng looked up.

"So I see," said she.

And putting aside all the ambiguity and roundabout phrases of the native tongue, she asked:

"What do you want to know?"

The directness of the question surprised Wanda, bewildered her. She remained silent; and it was the sorceress who continued:

"Was it that that astonished you?"

And stretching out her hand she pointed to the altar with its prehistoric arms, its bones and its shining skull.

"Yes, that," said Wanda quickly, "and also the pilgrimage of the women every season...."

She stopped speaking, feeling that the moment had not yet come to reveal the principal object of her visit.

With a sidelong glance, Jieng watched her.

"That only?" she asked.

"Yes," said Wanda. "Where do they go, and why do they have these meetings?"

Jieng broke into a fit of coughing.

"They go to pray," said she finally, "to the gods who protect husbands and mothers."

She spoke quickly, without hesitation, in a clear voice.

"Ah!" said Wanda, "and these prayers, where do they take place? In a temple?"

Her voice, although she was still in command of it, trembled slightly as the thought came to her that it was towards this unknown place of pilgrimage that they must have taken Michael.

The sorceress shrugged her shoulders.

"What does that matter to you?" she asked. "Here, there or everywhere are the altars of our gods, of the guardian spirits of those in whose veins runs the blue blood of the Moïs, the free savages who live in the mountains among the inhabitants of the forest, and whom nobody has ever been able to enslave.... Nobody ... neither the Annamese nor the Lao-ese nor the Siamese ... and not even you others, you white folks, in spite of all your efforts!"

While speaking, she had risen. With her figure supple, her chest thrown out, her gestures full of life, she seemed a new and different being from the suffering old woman whom Wanda remembered and of whom nothing seemed to remain except the face wasted with wounds and the shoulders seamed with scars.

"Indeed," cried she, "what has it got to do with you? Our gods belong to us as yours belong to you. Who among us tries to find out the mysteries of your religion?"

"Oh!" said Wanda, "some of them do! And Father Ravennes...."

Spitting on the ground with disgust, Jieng broke in:

"Traitors," said she, "renegades! They shall die!..."

She stared the young girl in the face and grinned fiendishly.

"Do you see? I am speaking frankly. I am telling you everything, even at the risk...."

It was Wanda's turn to interrupt.

"Then," said she without any change of expression, "since you are telling me everything, tell me what they have done with the lieutenant who was in command of the Post."

Jieng remained unmoved. She neither answered the question nor took the trouble to make any denials.

"He is in the hands of the gods," she said simply.

The young girl had a feeling of foreboding.

"By what right ..." she began.

The sorceress, resuming her seat, stopped her.

"By what right did he penetrate into the Dead Country, into the forest where no man, not even if he is of our own blood, dare enter?"

Without taking any notice of the interruption, the young girl went on:

"He is alive, is he not?... You ... you have not...."

Jieng smiled ironically.

"How does this stranger interest you?" she asked.

Wanda, seizing the priestess by the wrists, clutched convulsively.

"He is my brother," she groaned. "Where have you taken him? Is he alive? I must know. Do you hear? Either willing or unwilling, you shall tell me...."

With a sudden shake, the sorceress got free. She took a few steps about the hut, and came up to the young girl again. With her face twisted by an evil grin, she said:

"Do you want to know? Do you?"

"Yes!" cried Wanda.

And she plunged her fingers into the pockets of her jacket. Coins jingled, and she withdrew her hands full of money which she threw on the bench. The money rolled in all directions on the dark wood, scattering sparks of light.

"I will give you all that.... But answer me...."

Jieng took not the slightest notice. With her head drooped in thought, she was considering. Finally, she looked the young girl straight in the eyes.

"I cannot tell you anything, as I have no authority ... but...."

She held back the young girl, who had flung herself upon her.

"But, ... this evening the pilgrimage of the sixth month takes place."

"I know.... I know.... What then?"

The sorceress hesitated. A flash lit her eye, which she quickly veiled with lowered lids.

"I suppose," said she, slowly, "that in order to learn everything that you want, you would be willing to mingle with the women who are going to enter the Dead Country ... and that you would follow them wherever I lead them...."

She made a pause; between her half-open lids a direct glance flashed sideways on the brown eyes of the young girl.

"That is only a supposition, you understand!"

"Then," said Wanda, who had become very pale, "then suppose that I do follow you...."

A triumphant smile came and went on the priestess' face.

"If you were to do that, I am certain that no one would prevent you ... no one...."

The young girl, gripping the sorceress by the shoulder, laughed:

"No one, of course not, only there would be just one more victim on your altar, wouldn't there?"

Jieng did not flinch.

"No harm would come to you," she said calmly.

And as the young girl continued to smile ironically, she went on:

"No one would dare to touch you ... I tell you that for a fact."

Then repeated sarcastically:

"A victim!"

And she shrugged her shoulders.

"You came, you and that white man, into my village. My warriors were there. You were alone; there were a dozen of them. If I had wanted victims, why should I have waited? Were you not caught there in my hut just as surely as a wild beast in a trap?"

Again she shrugged her shoulders scornfully and stopped speaking.

The silence lasted some moments. Wanda thought of Michael. Her tortured heart was stronger than her reason; she reflected rapidly:

"I don't risk much.... I shall tell Pierre about it, he will follow my track and will catch up with me. Meanwhile I shall get the better of Jieng, and when he arrives...."

She stopped thinking. She saw just the one thing: here was a chance of reaching Michael, of seeing him, helping him, perhaps of aiding in his escape.... She cried:

"So be it! I will follow the women on their pilgrimage. What must I do?"

The priestess remained deep in thought for a second, then picking up in a businesslike way the coins scattered under the bench, she hid them in her belt.

"You must dress like one of our women."

And as the young girl began to protest, she stopped her with a gesture.

"It must be so, or you cannot come with us," she said with an air of final authority: "Decide!"

"Very well," said Wanda. "When do we start?"

Jieng bent down, rummaged under the bench and drew out a tunic, a pair of loose trousers and a turban which she handed to the young girl.

"Here are your clothes," she said, "in ten minutes I will come for you."

And she went off.

Wanda called after her:

"Can I leave a message for my friends?"

The face of the priestess took on a peculiar expression. Wanda thought she heard her laugh, but she had not the time to be uneasy about it.

Jieng assented.

"Yes," said she, "that will be better."

And she went out, shutting the door behind her.

* * * * *

When Wanda emerged from the hut a few minutes later, the dusk was falling on the mountain. A torch in her hand, Jieng was waiting for her. The girl gave her the leaf that she had torn out of her notebook.

"Here is a letter for Father Ravennes."

"He shall have it tonight," promised the sorceress.

And without another word she started off, Wanda following her. It was warm; into the stormy looking sky swollen clouds were climbing heavily. The dark bluish outlines of the mountain stood out solidly among the shadows that were beginning to creep over them. On the very tip of the crest of the Pou-Kas a last ray of sunlight spread in purplish gold, and the shining wave-like line of light stretched further and further until the mountain looked like the body of a great sleeping monster.

They went on and on together, both of them silent. Above them, dull and confusedly in a sort of scattered murmuring, the noise of human voices gradually became audible--the subdued hubbub of a multitude.

Still they climbed. Little by little the noise became more definite, and finally developed into a wild recitative sung by many voices and marked by the rhythmic bang of gongs and resounding blows on copper tom-toms.

It was the procession of the pilgrims, who, before entering the Dead Country, were invoking their mysterious gods.

Suddenly, at a curve in the path, the body of women could be seen in a large opening. Crouched in a thin, wide semicircle, and guarded by sorceresses, there were perhaps a hundred of them. Around them torches stuck into the ground waved smoky flames, throwing streaks of red light on the white-clad backs which were now all bowed in a simultaneous obeisance: patches of heavy smoke whirled upward into the dark: the bitter smell of burning resinous wood drifted slowly into the air: around them stood the dark wall of the inviolate forest.

At an order from Jieng, the women got up and took their places. They were now silent. Above, on the mountain which the darkness now hid, a vast silence seemed to weigh.

A short incantation, sung in unison by all, a sharp order, and then the procession got under way and entered the forest, where it was rapidly swallowed up in the damp shadows of the trees.

Left behind by herself, Wanda looked about her. The abandoned clearing seemed suddenly increased in size by the darkness which had fallen on it, now that the torches had been carried away. Before her, she could feel, vast and threatening, the Pou-Kas hidden in the blackness. Impulsively, she turned to look behind her, and far below her, in the valley, she could pick out the lights of the Post which twinkled feebly across the darkness. Her heart shook: thinking of Pierre, she could imagine his anxiety on account of her absence, and for a moment her resolution was shaken.

A wave of tenderness compounded of weakness and sweetness flowed through her. _He_ was there in the hollow of the plain, watching for her return!... These lights which beckoned to her were those of the lamps that she lighted every evening while she waited for him! Before her eyes she saw the little round table in the dining room where the two of them met every night at dinner-time. She could actually see the circle of light thrown by the pink-shaded lamp which broadened and illuminated the interested face of the young man as he talked to her. She could even distinguish his expression and his familiar gestures. She noticed once again the nervous knack he had of pulling his light moustache in little jerks. Above all, there came to her his laugh,--a clear bantering laugh which drew his lips to one side and showed a corner of his white teeth. Then, feeling the gray eyes of the young man full upon her, she smiled across the night to him. Her head thrown lightly back, her face forward, she seemed gently to offer him her lips, instinctively repeating the gesture which had become habitual, a gesture in which mingled the lure of a caress and the flicker of a smile and which always had a strangely intoxicating effect upon Pierre.

But quickly shaking off her weakness, she recalled the image of Michael, whom she was going to find and whom she would save at whatever cost. Remembrances of her childhood, in which he was inextricably mingled, brought to life again different moments of her past. Her heart, captured again by the days gone by, was full of him, and sisterly love once more dominated her.

Her head erect, with a noble gesture of sweetness and passion, she opened her arms and closed them again slowly as if to embrace once more the love she was leaving down there in the hollow of the shadow-drowned valley.

Then with her teeth clenched she turned back, and hurried to catch up with the troop of women who were mounting towards the mysterious sanctuary in the heart of the Dead Country.