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Updated: May 15, 2025
"I hope that my son would never forgive me either; but if it is otherwise, why, so it must be. Also Barung has made no promises about him." "Tell him, then," said Orme. "My head aches infernally, and I want to go to bed, above ground or under it."
Now Maqueda looked around the faces of her Council, and saw fear written upon them all. Indeed, as we noted, many of them shook in their terror. "My answer will be short, ambassadors of Barung," she replied, "still, I am but one woman, and it is fitting that those who represent the people should speak for the people. My uncle, Joshua, you are the first of my Council, what have you to say?
"And so you shall," pleaded the Tongue, "for when we have cleaned it of baboons and rock-rabbits, which, if you were among us, we soon should do, and thus fulfilled our oath to regain our ancient secret City of the Rocks, we will set you there once more as its Lady, under Barung, and give you a multitude of subjects of whom you may be proud."
"Look out, Doctor," said Quick into my ear. "Unless I'm mistook, that porpoise is going to play some game." Hardly were the words out of his mouth when, uttering the most valiant shouts and with swords drawn, Joshua and a body of his companions galloped up and surrounded our little group. "Now yield, Barung," bellowed Joshua; "yield or die!"
"Now, O white men, this is the offer of Barung to you: Leave the curs of the Abati, the baboons who gibber and deck themselves out, the rock-rabbits who seek safety in the cliffs, and come to him. He will give you not only life, but all your heart's desire lands and wives and horses; great shall you be in his councils and happy shall you live.
"I know, I know," he answered earnestly; "and I tell you this, that rather than let Higgs die alone there, I will give myself up to Barung, and, if I can't save him, suffer with him, or for him if I can. Listen: there is to be a great council held by the Child of Kings on the day after to-morrow which we must attend, for it has only been postponed until I was well enough.
"No, Father," he answered in his odd English, "no dream; all true. This is a strange world, Father. Look at me! For how many years twelve fourteen, slave of savage peoples for whom I sing, priest of Fung idol, always near death but never die. Then Sultan Barung take fancy to me, say I come of white blood and must be his daughter's husband.
Such was our introduction to Barung, Sultan of the Fung, a barbarian with many good points, among them courage, generosity, and appreciation of those qualities even in a foe, characteristics that may have been intensified by the blood of his mother, who, I am told, was an Arab of high lineage captured by the Fung in war and given as a wife to the father of Barung.
"Had it not been for the interference of these Gentiles, in whom you seem to put such trust," he went on, "should I not have taken Barung captive the other day, and left the Fung without a head?" "And the Abati without such shreds of honour as still belong to them, my uncle." "Let us be wed, O Bud of the Rose, O Flower of Mur, and soon I will free you from the Fung.
"Nay, Barung, I was about to take this husband to my breast," and I showed him the knife that was hidden in my marriage robe. "No," he said, smiling, "I think the knife was for Joshua first. Still, you are a brave woman who could save the life of him you love at the cost of your own.
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