Evening star., 1916-09-10


ters, too?
@TT was one afternoon when l was re-
turning from my monthly tour in the
bush," Wilton went on, as if speaking
from some dream into which he had fallen.
u was very much the official that after
noon, and everything seemed to conspire
to fasten it on me. The bobbing defer
ence Of the village chiefs; the shouts of
the runners clearing my way; the strain
ing chocolate-colored backs of the ham,
mock-men, their white-and-crimson gov
ernment loin-cloths reminded me
that I was the Commissioner.
"All day I. had been oppressed with a
sense of what an invisible thing govern
ment is. There, was, being carried along,
in that primeval' jungle, just the same.
for thousand miles each way-just mud,
trees, and sky. For all one could see, it
might have been the first dawn Of creation
itself. Yet it was all soaked through and
through with th9tp Unseen white. mans
law of which l. was the Representative.
"My personality was gone, for the mo-
ment; I was a mere instrument Of
fetal instead of a man. AS we swung
Mensah, l leaned out from under the
hammock-top and looked up-7it was the
first time l had done so-frowning Of
fcially as saw how badly those shutters
needed painting. Then-a pair Of them
swung slowly open, and saw her-saw
the woman whom for three years had
held prisoner in that house.
ooh" Wilton's voice rose almost to
a cry that the surrounding darkness beat
back, as walls beat back an echo. at was
the suddenness of it, I argued to myself as
I paced the ramparts here that night. 1t
was the effect Of that caressing light of the
late afternoon. 1t was those soft, reveal
ing swathings of white. 1t was the con-
trast between that white-gold skin, that
scarlet mouth, and those grinning black
apes to whom was accustomed. 1t was
the green CLEAN of that band of uncut
emeralds about the straight forehead-it
was anything, told myself-anything
rather than the woman herself.
at would pass in another moment, I
promised myself, pacing to and fro here in
my quarters like a Gagged beast. That was
what was-a human beast in an official
cage. There were bars all about me: bars
vi uuUy, DdTS vi EtCbs uttlo VI pOolUiOu. lU
was the sight of a Gagged woman that had
made me realize the bars of my own cage.
"What could hopefor if 1 broke through
them? What could hope for her? We
should both of us simply be swept off the
board by those who play world-chess,
with people for pawns.
"You know who she was, that woman
at the window. 1t was Quamina herself.
THE Lady Quamina of Doonqwow
havewritten, and you have read, that name
score of times in my official reports.
@Over and over, to prove to myself the
uselessness Of it all, told myself all that
I knew about her. Quamina, daughter
of old King Yirrah, that fierce, willy old
Arab; Quamina of Doonqwow, that
bloody city that even Africa could hardly
tolerate, where the fires of Islam, pushed
south into the watery smother of the
bush, burned with such black smoke and
strange stenches; Doonqwow, that per-
petual cooking-pot of trouble, the city of
reputed magic and proved secret poison
ers. l remembered, deliberately, all the
things l had heard from the men who
went on the expedition that finally wiped
off bo