THE PLAIN OF KO^R.
ABOUT an hour before sundown we at last, to my unbounded gratitude, emerged from the great belt of marsh on to land that swelled upward in a succession of rolling waves, Just on the hither side of the crest of the first wave we halted for the night.My first act was to examine Leo's condition.It was, if anything, worse than in the morning, and a new and very distressing feature, vomiting, set in, and continued till dawn.Not one wink of sleep did I get that night, for I passed it in assisting Ustane, who was one of the most gentle and indefatigable nurses Iever saw, to wait upon Leo and Job.However, the air here was warm and genial without being too hot, and there were no mosquitoes to speak of.Also we were above the level of the marsh mist, which lay stretched beneath us like the dim smoke-pall over a city, lit up here and there by the wandering globes of fen fire.
Thus it will be seen that we were, speaking comparatively, in clover.
By dawn on the following morning Leo was quite light-headed, and fancied that he was divided into halves.Iwas dreadfully distressed, and began to wonder with a sort of sick fear what the termination of the attack would be.Alas! I had heard but too much of how these attacks generally terminate.As I was doing so Billali came up and said that we must be getting on, more especially as, in his opinion, if Leo did not reach some spot where he could be quiet, and have proper nursing, within the next twelve hours, his life would only be a matter of a day or two.I could not but agree with him, so we got him into the litter, and started on, Ustane walking by Leo's side to keep the flies off him, and see that he did not throw himself out on to the ground.
Within half an hour of sunrise we had reached the top of the rise of which I have spoken, and a most beautiful view broke upon our gaze.Beneath us was a rich stretch of country, verdant with grass and lovely with foliage and flowers.In the background, at a distance, so far as I could judge, of some eighteen miles from where we then stood, a huge and extraordinary mountain rose abruptly from the plain.
The base of this great mountain appeared to consist of a grassy slope, but rising from this, I should say, from subsequent observation, at a height of about five hundred feet above the level of the plain, was a most tremendous and absolutely precipitous wall of bare rock, quite twelve or fifteen hundred feet in height.
The shape of the mountain, which was undoubtedly of volcanic origin, was round, and of course, as only a segment of its circle was visible, it was difficult to estimate its exact size, which was enormous.Iafterwards discovered that it could not cover less than fifty square miles of ground.Anything more grand and imposing than the sight presented by this great natural castle, starting in solitary grandeur from the level of the plain, I never saw, and I suppose I never shall.Its very solitude added to its majesty, and its towering cliffs seemed to kiss the sky.Indeed, generally speaking, they were clothed in clouds that lay in fleecy masses upon their broad and level battlements.
I sat up in my hammock and gazed out across the plain at this thrilling and majestic sight, and I suppose that Billali noticed it, for he brought his litter alongside.
"Behold the House of ' _i_ She-who-must-be-obeyed _i_!'" he said."Had ever a queen such a throne before?""It is wonderful, my father," I answered."But how do we enter? Those cliffs look hard to climb.""Thou shalt see, my Baboon.Look now at the plain below us.What thinkest thou that it is? Thou art a wise man.Come, tell me."I looked, and saw what appeared to be the line of roadway running straight towards the base of the mountain, though it was covered with turf.There were high banks on each side of it, broken here and there, but fairly continuous on the whole, the meaning of which I did not understand.It seemed so very odd that anybody should embank a roadway.
"Well, my father," I answered, "I suppose that it is a road, otherwise I should have been inclined to say that it was the bed of a river, or, rather," I added, observing the extraordinary directness of the cutting, "of a canal."Billaliwho, by the way, was none the worse for his immersion of the day beforenodded his head sagely as he replied, "Thou art right, my son.It is a channel cut out by those who were before us in this place, to carry away water.Of this am I sure: within the rocky circle of the great mountain whither we journey was once a great lake.But those who were before us, by wonderful arts of which I know naught, hewed a path for the water through the solid rock of the mountain, piercing even to the bed of the lake.But first they cut the channel that thou seest across the plain.Then, when at last the water burst out, it rushed down the channel that had been made to receive it, and crossed this plain till it reached the low land behind the rise, and there, perchance, it made the swamp through which we have come.Then, when the lake was drained dry, the people whereof I speak built a mighty city, whereof naught but ruins and the name of Ko^r yet remaineth, on its bed, and from age to age hewed the caves and passages that thou wilt see.""It may be," I answered; "but if so, how is it that the lake does not fill up again with the rains and the water of the springs?""Nay, my son, the people were a wise people, and they left a drain to keep it clear.Seest thou the river to the right?" and he pointed to a fair-sized stream that wound away across the plain, some four miles from us.
"That is the drain, and it comes out through the mountain wall where this cutting goes in.At first, perhaps, the water ran down this canal, but afterwards the people turned it, and used the cutting for a road.""And is there then no other place where one may enter into the great mountain," I asked, "except through the drain?""There is a place," he answered, "where cattle and men on foot may cross with much labor, but it is a secret.
