The Eye of Istar: A Romance of the Land of No Return
On I went through the everlasting gloom, clambering over the rough, uneven rocks, then sinking knee-deep in the slimy deposits left by the rivulets. In the impenetrable darkness of the noisome place, strange noises startled me as blind, unseen reptiles escaped from my path, plunging into the water with a splash, and great lizards scuttled to their holes beneath the stones.
Between giant boulders, which had apparently fallen from the roof, I squeezed myself, climbing over high barriers of stone and creeping on all-fours through crevices that were all but impassable, I had proceeded for more than one hour. I shouted, but the distant echoes above and around showed that the extent of the gloomy place was bewildering, and so complete was the darkness that the terrible dread oppressing me became intensified. Nevertheless, one important fact gave me heart, causing me to persevere, namely, the atmosphere was not poisonous, showing that somewhere in that wonderful grotto air was admitted. Where there was air there must be light, I argued, and where light, then means of exit. Therefore I proceeded, with eyes strained in the blackness before me, hoping each moment to discern some welcome glimmer of the blessed light of day. But, alas! although my wandering footsteps took me deeper and deeper, no welcome ray was I enabled to detect. Had I but a torch, my progress would have been more rapid, for I could have avoided sinking into those sloughs of icy-cold slush, and could have stepped across the water-courses instead of stumbling clumsily into them. Half the horrors surrounding me would have been dispelled if my path had been lighted; but when I had stood before the graven picture I had sought carefully, but in vain, for wood that I might ignite by rubbing, and so construct a flambeau. Compelled to plunge into the impenetrable gloom, without light or means to defend myself, I was truly in unenviable predicament.
With dogged pertinacity of purpose, engendered, perhaps, by the knowledge that to escape from that subterranean chamber was imperative if I did not seek starvation and death, I kept on until my legs grew weary and almost gave way beneath me. My feet were so pained by the sharp stones that I at last tore strips from my gandoura and tied them up, obtaining considerable relief thereby. Then, starting forward again, faint and hungry, I plodded still onward towards the dreaded unknown. Some knowledge of the enormous extent of the place may be gathered from the fact that for fully three hours I had proceeded, when suddenly an incident occurred which caused me to pull up quickly and stand motionless, not daring to move.
Beads of perspiration broke upon my forehead as I realised an imminent peril. In walking I had accidentally sent some pebbles flying before me, and my quick ears had discerned that they had struck and bounded down into some abyss in the immediate vicinity. Instantly I halted, and it proved a stroke of good fortune that I did so, for on going upon my knees and carefully stretching forth my hands, I was horrified to discover myself on the very edge of a yawning chasm, the depth or extent of which it was impossible to determine.
Here, then, was an impassable barrier to my further progress! For three long hours I had struggled to penetrate the horrible place, but now, in despair, I told myself that all had been in vain.
My eager fingers felt the jagged edge of the abyss before me. Then, lying full length upon the damp, slimy rock, with head over the great pit, I shouted in order to ascertain its depth. My voice, though echoing above, sounded hollow and became lost in the depths below. Groping about, I discovered a stone the size of my fist, and hurling it over, listened, with bated breath. The minutes passed, but no sound rose. Again I threw down another piece of rock, but, as before, I could detect no noise of it striking the bottom. The chasm was unfathomable.
Again, taking some small pebbles worn smooth by the action of the water, I flung them a considerable distance into the darkness. Apparently they struck the rocks on the opposite side of the terrible pit, for I could hear them bounding down from crag to crag until the noise became so faint that they were lost entirely. Once more I shouted, but my voice echoed not in that vast, immeasurable abyss that had evidently been caused by the same great upheaval which had, ages before, closed the entrance to the cavern, and formed the dreaded Lake of the Accursed. Might not the exit have been sealed in the same manner as the entrance? The suggestion crossed my mind and held me appalled.
Finding myself unable to proceed further, I crept, still upon my hands and knees, along near the edge of the chasm for a considerable distance, until at last I found, to my delight, that it extended no further, and by the exercise of constant caution I crawled onward, length by length, until I discovered, by casting pebbles about, that I had passed it. Then gladly, with a feeling of apprehension lifted from my heart, I rose again, and with renewed energy continued my way.
After this incident I took every precaution, consequently my progress was slow and painful. The thought of how narrowly I had escaped a horrible death caused me to shudder, nevertheless my eyes were eager to discover some welcome gleam of light and hope. During yet another hour I struggled forward over ground that rose gradually, then descended again so steeply, until I began to fear that another chasm lay before. My fears, however, in this direction proved groundless. Yet, as I proceeded, the little stream seemed to increase in volume, and there was a damp, noxious smell about the noisome place which gave rise to a belief that, after all, there was no exit, and that the cavern, like the forbidden land, was a place whence, if once entered, there was no return. Just as that conviction was forced strongly upon me, I also discovered another more startling fact, which rendered my despair complete, and told me plainly that in that dwelling of the Great Devourer I should find my grave.
My progress had been arrested; my hands had come into contact with a wall of rock which stretched before me on either side. I shouted, and the unseen rock gave back my voice, proving that I had gained the extreme end of the cavern.
Determined to thoroughly investigate this abrupt termination of the place before seeking an exit in another direction, I crept forward, feeling the rough, rocky wall with eager, trembling hands. Having proceeded for some distance, my heart suddenly bounded with excitement as I discovered another outlet beyond, and eagerly stumbled forward, still in impenetrable gloom. All the strange legends and tales of the story-tellers I had heard related regarding this weird place surged through my mind, and, as I pressed forward, I admit that I was in constant fear and trepidation lest I should meet, face to face, the legendary tenant of this limitless subterranean labyrinth, the terrible being referred to on the tablet of Semiramis as the Great Devourer, or Guardian of the Gate of the Land of the No Return.
But the entrance to the forbidden land, if thus it proved to be, was difficult enough, and guarded by horrors and pitfalls sufficient without the necessity of a janitor such as that described so luridly by tellers of strange romances in the desert-camps. Stumbling on up a steep incline I was at length compelled to halt to regain breath. Weakened by the desperate fight I had had for life amid the roaring torrent which had sucked me down, fatigued by the struggle to penetrate the deep recesses of the cavern, I rested for a few moments, my head reeling and my legs trembling as if unable to support my body. Suddenly a loud, shrill cry caused me to start, and next second a gust of air was swept into my face by the flapping of enormous wings. For an instant I felt the presence of some uncanny object near me, but in a moment it had gone, and when I recovered from my sudden alarm, I knew that it was some great bird which probably had its nest in some deep and secret crevice. Its shrill, plaintive cry echoed among the vast recesses, but grew fainter as it flew on before me. My sudden terror was quickly succeeded by feelings of satisfaction, for the presence of the bird was sufficient proof that there was an exit in the vicinity.
With heart quickened by excitement I once again moved forward, gained the summit of the incline, clambered quickly over some gigantic masses of fallen rock, and at last, when I had mounted to the top of what at first seemed an impassable barrier, my eyes were gladdened by a sight which caused me to cry aloud with joy.
Far below me, so distant as to appear like a mere speck of grey, the light of day was shining.
Its approach was by a rough and exceedingly steep descent, but I hurried on with foolish disregard of the perils which beset my path, on account of the slippery deposits on the stones. Once or twice I nearly came to grief. In places the descent was so abrupt that I had to turn and crawl down, steadying myself with my hands and knees; but I heeded nothing in my frantic eagerness to escape and gain the dreaded Land of the Myriad Mysteries.
As I neared the opening, I discovered it was not large, and half choked by masses of rock that had either fallen or been placed there to bar the entrance, while about them were tangled masses of profuse vegetation, which no doubt hid the existence of the cavern to any who should chance to pass it outside. In the high roof near the exit, hundreds of birds of brilliant plumage had their nests, and were flying in and out, singing and uttering shrill cries, while in the light and air, moss, plants and giant ferns grew in wild profusion. Great green snakes, too, lay curled beneath the stones, and I was compelled to be wary, lest I should be bitten. Even on arrival here my escape was barred by a huge mass of stone three times higher than myself, and so wide that it entirely filled up the exit. Nevertheless, I managed, after considerable difficulty, to scale the rocky obstacle, and pausing on its summit for a moment, I ascertained that a dense forest lay beyond. Then I descended through the tangled bushes and creepers to the ground outside, and once more stood free in the fresh air, with a brilliant, cloudless sky above.
I had actually set foot in the forbidden Land of the No Return!
But it was already the hour of the maghrib, and the fast dying day showed that the time I had spent in the wonderful dwelling of the Great Devourer, was longer than I had imagined. Remembering that at that hour Azala had opened her lattice and breathed to me her silent message of love, I sank upon my knees, and turning in the direction of prayer, went through my sunset devotions with an earnest fervency which I fear was unusual, thanking Allah in a loud and thrice-repeated Fatiha. Rising, and lifting my hands to heaven, I uttered the words that pilgrims repeat before the Black Stone in the Holy Ca’aba: “There is no God but Allah alone, Whose Covenant is Truth, and Whose Servant is Victorious. There is no God but Allah without Sharer; His is the Kingdom, to him be Praise, and He over all Things is potent.”
Then, having kissed my fingers, I made a meal from bananas I plucked from a neighbouring tree, and having slacked my thirst at a tiny stream, the water of which was as cool as that of the well Zem Zem, I skirted the forest for a considerable distance, but finding my further progress barred by a wide river, that, emerging from the wood, ran in serpentine wanderings around the base of the high, inaccessible mountains, I was compelled to plunge into the forest. Upon the tablets of Semiramis, it was stated that the unknown city of Ea had been built at a spot fifteen marches towards the sunrise, therefore in that direction I proceeded.
At first, the forest was rendered dark and gloomy by the entangled bushes, but the trees soon grew thinner, yet more luxurious. Many of them were in blossom; many bore strange fruits that I had never before beheld; while the ground was carpeted with moss and an abundance of bright-hued flowers. Everywhere was an air of peaceful repose. Birds were chattering before roosting in the branches above, the rays of the sinking sun gilded the leaves and fell in golden shafts across my path, a bubbling brook ran with rippling music over the pebbles, and the air was heavily laden with the subtle scent of a myriad perfumes. Presently, when I had penetrated the belt of forest and emerged into the open grassland, I stood in amazement, gazing upon one of the fairest and most picturesque landscapes that my wondering eyes had ever beheld.
The country I had entered was the dreaded kingdom of the Myriad Mysteries; yet, judging from its fertility and natural beauties, it appeared to me more like the paradise our Korân promises for our enjoyment than a land of dread. Indeed, as I stood there in the cool sunset hour, amid the fruitful trees, sweet flowers and smiling plains, bounded far away by ranges of purple mountains, I doubt whether it would have surprised me to have met in that veritable garden of delights the black-eyed houris which the Book of Everlasting Will describes as dwelling in pavilions, among trees of mauz and lote-trees free from thorns. Such, indeed, I thought, must be the dwelling-place prepared for the Companions of the Right Hand, for are they not promised couches adorned with gold and precious stones, under an extended shade, near a flowing water, and amidst fruits of abundance which shall not fail nor shall be forbidden to be gathered?
Slowly turning, I gazed back upon the Rock of Sin, the Moon-god, the name of which in the centuries that had passed had been so strangely corrupted by Arabs and pagans alike, and noticed that although from where I stood its summit looked similar in form to its aspect from the other side of the Lake of the Accursed, yet it was not so lofty here, and evidently this hitherto undiscovered region was considerably higher than the countries surrounding it, although even here the mountains forming its boundary were of great altitude, many of their summits being tipped with snow. Dark, frowning and mysterious, the rock rose high among the many peaks of the unknown range, while behind the giant crests to the left the western sky was literally ablaze, and the sun, having already disappeared, caused them to loom darkly in the shadows.
Out upon the plain I passed, keeping still to eastward, but soon the light blue veil of the mountains before me became tinted with violet and indigo, and finally settled into leaden death. Then night crept on, and the stars shone bright as diamonds in a sultan’s aigrette. During several silent hours I could discover no sign of man, but at length, when I had crossed the plain, with the moon lighting my footsteps like a lamp, I approached, at the foot of a hill, a wonderful colonnade of colossal stone columns, some of which had broken off half-way up and fallen, while across the quaintly-sculptured capitals of others there still remained great square blocks that had once supported a roof. Here and there in the vicinity were other columns, singly, and in twos and threes, while the intervening ground was covered with débris, over which crept a growth of tangled vegetation, as if striving to hide the ravages of time.
The great ruin, apparently of an ancient palace or temple, stood in desolate grandeur, ghostly in the white moonlight, while behind rose verdant hills, steep and difficult of ascent. Approaching close to the columns, through a mass of fallen masonry and wildly-luxuriant verdure, I examined them, and was struck by the enormous size of the blocks of stone from which they had been fashioned, and the curious and grotesque manner in which they had been sculptured with figures. The art was of the same character on these monoliths as upon the tablet of Semiramis, the beautiful and brilliant queen who was worshipped as a goddess. There were many representations of the Assyrian deity, and in places lines of cuneiform writing, but the suns and rains of ages had almost obliterated them, and had also caused much damage to the sculptured figures.
In the silence of the brilliant night I stood beneath those amazing relics of a forgotten civilisation and pictured the departed magnificence of the wonderful structure. There remained portions of an enormous gateway, with giant winged human figures carved out of huge blocks of stone; and on examining one of these I found a portion of an inscription, in long, thin lines of arrowheads, easily decipherable in the full light of the moon. After a little difficulty I succeeded in reading it as follows: —
“In the beginning of my everlasting reign there was revealed to me a dream. Merodach, the Great Lord, and Sin, the Illuminator of Heaven and Earth, stood round about me. Merodach spake to me, ‘O Semiramis, Queen of Babylon, with the horses of thy chariot come, the bricks of the House of Light make, and the Moon, the Great Lord within it caused to be raised his dwelling.’ Reverently I spake to thelord of the gods, Merodach, ‘This house, of which thou speakest, I will build, and the temple shall be the dwelling of the Moon-god in Ea’.”
What a magnificent pile it must have been in those long-forgotten days when the legions of Semiramis marched, in glittering array, through the long colonnade to worship the Moon-god, Sin, beneath the statues of illustrious Babylonians! or when their luxurious ruler, enthroned a queen in the hearts of her people, and dowered with charms that inspired to heroism, flashed through those great corridors in her gilded chariot, surrounded by her crowd of martial courtiers and fair slaves! or when, with bare arms and golden helmet on her head, with all the pomp of war, she sallied forth on her fleet steed, caparisoned in crimson and gold, to review and harangue her warriors on the plain.
Allah had destroyed it because it was ungodly.
No trace of the presence of living man had I discovered, and I began to wonder whether, after all, this Land of the No Return was uninhabited; for was it not likely that in the ages that had passed since its discovery by Babylon’s queen, the colony, like the once-powerful race beside the Euphrates, had dwindled away and become entirely extinct! There were no signs of these ruins having been visited, no trace of any recent encampment, or the dead ashes of the fires of recent travellers. Upon the stretch of bare, stony ground, before the half-ruined gateway which would have served as a good camping-ground, I searched diligently, but discovered nothing that proved the existence of inhabitants; therefore, wearied and footsore, I at length threw myself down at the base of one of the giant monoliths, and with part of my gandoura over my face to shield it from the evil influence of the moonbeams, sank into heavy, dreamless slumber.
Chapter Thirty Five
A Visitant from the Mists
Day had dawned fully three hours ere I arose. The great ruins, revealed by the brilliant morning sun, were much more extensive than I had at first believed. For fully half a mile mighty columns rose, here and there, like gigantic, moveless giants; many had fallen, and their walls of enormous blocks and their prostrate pillars looked up piteously to the day. Time alone had worn down their rigid strength, and swept the capstones from the towers. Time, too, had clad some of them in a disintegrating mantle of green.
There was not one of the hundred columns and monoliths in which did not lurk some tale, or many tales, of loyalty, or treason, or despair. There was not one of the five great gates I could distinguish whose portal had not swung open wide for processions of triumphal pageantry, of exalted grief, of pagan pomp, or military expedition. Thick as the leaves of the climbing plants, festooning crevice, niche and broken parapet, must be the legends, traditions and true tales that enwrapped those walls if man still inhabited that land. Upon the stones, chipped with surprising neatness and regularity, were many uneffaced inscriptions; the pompous eulogies therein contained being the only epitaphs the long-dead founders of the Kingdom of Ea possessed. This prodigious pile, useless centuries ago, torn by earthquakes and half levelled by time, was indeed a fitting monument to the great Semiramis, the self-indulgent Queen, the conqueror of all lands from the Indus to the Mediterranean, and builder of Babylon, the most extensive and wonderful capital in the world.
At last, turning my back upon the desolate scene, I went forward and commenced to ascend the steep hillside. It was a stiff ascent, but, on gaining the summit, I looked down upon a panorama of beauty impossible to adequately describe. Streams, forests and verdant valleys stretched out below, bounded far away by a range of fantastic mountains rising in finger points in all directions. Proceeding in search of the mysterious, unknown city, which, according to the inscription, lay in the direction of prayer, I descended the steep hill, passed through vast entanglements of jungle in the valleys, suddenly coming across a delightful stream watering a narrow valley with precipitous walls of rock on either side, and densely filled with all kinds of tropical vegetation. I ate some bananas, revelled in the luxury of a bath, and then continued my journey towards the sunrise by plunging into a forest of quol-quol trees, some of which reached to the height of sixty feet, stretching out their weird arms in every direction. The quol-quol is an uncanny-looking tree, exuding a poisonous, milky gum, which is exceedingly dangerous. The Dervishes, in making their roads around Khartoum and Omdurman, had much difficulty with this tree, for the milk from it, if it squirts into the eyes when the tree is cut, produces blindness. Beneath the trees were flowering, rich-coloured gladioli, long, hanging orchids, sugar plants, and many thorny trees of a species I had never before seen.
Lonely, and half convinced that I had entered a land uninhabited and forgotten, I threaded the mazes of this veritable poison forest, at length emerging into a clump of gigantic baobabs, and thence into a slightly undulating district, sparsely clothed with thorns and euphorbia, and teeming with game. At last I found myself crossing a beautiful, park-like track where herds of buffalo grazed undisturbed, and at sundown came to a rich, fertile country, dotted with clumps of pine-trees and large patches of forest, abounding in pretty glades and glens of mimosa brush full of beautiful blue birds and monkeys.
That night I sought sleep under a huge sycamore, and next day continued my tramp towards the distant range of mountains, over the crests of which showed the first rosy tint of dawn. Compelled sometimes to wade streams, and often climbing and descending precipitous rocks, passing through narrow, romantic gorges, and coming now and then upon beautiful and unexpected cascades, I toiled onward through that day, and although I passed some ruins, apparently of a house, half hidden by wild vegetation, yet I discovered no trace of the existence of living man. Never before had I experienced such a sense of utter loneliness. I had the bright sun and cloudless sky above. I was free to wander hither and thither, and around me grew fruits that were the necessaries of life; but I was alive in a region which, as far as I could observe, had remained untrodden for many centuries. Again I spent the night beneath a tree, my head pillowed on a fallen branch; and again I set forth to reach my goal, as recorded on the rock-tablet of Semiramis. Forward, ever in the direction of the Holy Ca’aba across grass plains, through rocky ravines and shady woods bright with flowers, and as sweetly scented as the harem of a sultan, I trudged onward, in my hand a long, stout staff which I had broken from a tree, in my heart a feeling that I alone was monarch of this smiling, unknown Land of the No Return that I had discovered.
Yet I remembered that, after all, I had not yet elucidated the mystery of which I was in search – the reason of the Mark of the Asps; and although I had discovered it in the hand of the Assyrian goddess, yet such discovery only increased its mystery. So I kept on my toilsome path, stage by stage, still pious, still hopeful, still believing that the secret of the linked reptiles would eventually be explained.
Never swerving from the direction of the sunrise, and each day at the maghrib making a mark upon my staff with the sharp stone I carried, I continued in search of the city of Semiramis. Up the almost inaccessible face of one of the great mountains of the range I had seen afar I toiled many hours, until, stepping from sunshine into mist and drizzle, my feet were upon the snow that covered their summits, and the intense cold chilled me to the bone. Higher yet was I compelled to climb, until, as if by magic, I passed through the belt of mist into brilliant sunshine again. The effect was one of the most curious I had ever witnessed. Below was a sea of crumpled clouds, extending as far as the eye could reach, out of which peered high mountain peaks like islands in a sea of fleecy wool. During two whole days I clambered, half-starved and chilled, across this vast, towering range. The air was health-giving and invigorating. In the early morning everything was clear and bright; as the day advanced the clouds would gather from the plains and gradually roll up the mountain side, enveloping the lowlands and valleys in a dense mist; occasionally, towards sundown, this mist would roll over the edge and envelop a little of the high plateau in its clammy folds, but it quickly dispersed as the sun went down, and the morning would again break bright, with hoar frost sparkling everywhere.
