Chapter 20

[pg 214]Chapter 20The actual sight of spirits from ghostland, of which hitherto they had only heard, had been too much for the nerves of the tribe already overstrung by the overthrow of the idol and the magic and slaughter of zu Pfeiffer; the warriors had fled like scared poultry to the jungle, up trees, in the undergrowth and in their huts, where they cowered among their women and slaves, reading awful omens and portents in every sound of the forest.The phenomenon had been just as startling and awe-inspiring to Bakahenzie as it had been to his most ignorant dupe. His belief in ghostland was implicit, but now he had seen what, professionally, he was supposed to see and converse with on familiar terms. As Zalu Zako disappeared he continued to listen intently. Above the slight rustle of the bushes as the Son-of-the-Snake moved through the undergrowth rose a feminine laugh. Bakahenzie’s liver was squeezed by that sardonic chuckle; for, as is well known, female demons are much more malignant than the male. For the space of a chant he remained crouching there, curiosity and the dread of revealing his terror to his fellows tugging at his feet and fear of the demons clutching him around the waist. Save the anthem of the forest no further sound of the ghosts was audible.[pg 215]Cautiously rose Bakahenzie, wriggled out of his nest and with as much dignity as maybe, strode back to the fire. From the village came a slight whimpering. With satisfaction Bakahenzie noted that no one else was in sight. For another space he sat with unquiet eyes and ears upon the forest. Then gathering courage as nothing happened, he pondered upon what attitude he should assume.Yabolo stalked from round a hut and squatting calmly beside Bakahenzie, nonchalantly proceeded to tap out snuff and offered some to Bakahenzie, who grunted acceptance and sniffed with even greater indifference. Motionless they continued to sit and silently. Bakahenzie wondered whether Yabolo knew that he, too, had fled, and Yabolo, who did know, waited for the first move on Bakahenzie’s part to retort.Yabolo, indeed, who had been as panic-stricken as Bakahenzie, was more suspicious in view of the accounts he had heard of the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. Who knew but this vision might not be another manifestation of Eyes-in-the-hands? And more slowly a similar idea began to occur to Bakahenzie, save that he had in mind the incident of Moonspirit’s magic in the face of his bravest warriors. The calmer he became the more was he inclined to accept this explanation of the apparitions; such was infinitely more comforting to him than the conception that they had been in truth spirits from ghostland. As the doubt grew the wisdom of propitiating this powerful Moonspirit became apparent; yet was present the dread of loosing what remained of his autocratic power. The problem now was to enlist the white[pg 216]and discover some means of controlling him and his magic.But to both men the vital question was, what had become of Zalu Zako? There were two alternatives: if the visions had been genuine ghosts, then undoubtedly Zalu Zako was dead; but if they had been produced through the magic of a white man, then, Bakahenzie argued, Zalu Zako and Marufa must be in league with Moonspirit, and Yabolo opined that Zalu Zako had been captured by Eyes-in-the-hands. To the latter the effect was to strengthen the determination to go over to Eyes-in-the-hands. If the first possibility was correct the greater need had he of strong magic if real ghosts were taking to walking abroad visibly, and the other case merely proved beyond question the invincible magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. But to Bakahenzie the reaction was slightly different, for his elemental reason took him a little farther than Yabolo by pointing out that in all his wide experience never had spirits taken demons’ shape, so that the suspicion that they had been due to Moonspirit became more plausible, and was supported by the recollection of Marufa’s unexplained absence and sudden reappearance on familiar terms with the spirits.The longer he pondered on the strange actions of Marufa the more he was persuaded that that wily colleague was acting upon sound information, and the tangle of his affairs made him so desperate that he decided to gamble upon that assumption: for magician Bakahenzie began to realize that Marufa had somehow scored a point and that now was approaching the crux which would determine whether[pg 217]he won back or lost for ever that which was the essence of life to him.Meanwhile the two puzzled plotters sat motionless and silent as if mutually agreeing that no question regarding each other’s late movements had better be asked.Accordingly to the depth of his superstition returned each witch-doctor. When they were come, without one word of explanation, Bakahenzie lifted his voice in a high falsetto, bidding the lay warriors to return to hear the voice of the elders. Reassured by this command which carried far on the still air, they began to emerge from hut and undergrowth. The first to arrive was MYalu, angry to find the whole assembly of wizards apparently sitting as if they had never moved, engaged in mystic incantations. MYalu had not fled far and from his cranny had seen the flight of Bakahenzie and the departure of Zalu Zako, but he dared not betray the doctors. He squatted sullenly and waited while the remainder of the warriors, of whom many had also seen the general stampede, filed to their places.When all were assembled Bakahenzie looked up from his spell and bade them to listen to what message the faculty—for obvious policy’s sake he included the whole of the ghosts—had received from ghostland by the three spirits, emphasising the vision of the magicians as proof positive of the terrible power of the craft. By reason of the sin committed by one who had broken the magic circle, as they all knew, said Bakahenzie, had this wrath of the Unmentionable One come upon them, permitting the incarnation of a demon, Eyes-in-the-hands, to work his will upon them and to[pg 218]make them slaves, as were their dogs the Wamungo; and so in the depth of their tribulation he, Bakahenzie, whose magic had been rendered impotent by the betrayal of the Bride of the Banana, had invoked the spirits of the three, as they all had witnessed.“Ough! Ough!”grunted the warriors in assent, although many of them were sorely puzzled to know why the doctors themselves had fled. Yabolo began to grow restless in his mind. To allow Bakahenzie to steal all the thunder and condemn the possible source of political power to the level of an evil demon was contrary to his policy, but he gave no physical sign save to become engrossed in his snuff box.Then Bakahenzie continued with a long harangue maintaining the necessity of the consummation of the Marriage of the Banana and announced that Zalu Zako had been taken by the spirit of his forefathers in order to prepare magic for the eating up of the terrible Eyes-in-the-hands; that as the voice of Tarum had said, Zalu Zako would return with“That which was slain on the hill—that which ye seek, that which is yours.”Although Bakahenzie was not sure to what these words had referred, yet he was sagacious enough to know that if Marufa had engineered that scene, then there must be some plan at the back of it, and in any case knew, as any white medicine man, that words in mystic phrasing are always soul-satisfying to the credulous who interpret them in terms of their subconscious desires. Then with political prudence he avoided any reference to uncomfortable topics, by dismissing the[pg 219]assembly before any pertinent questions could be asked.But when Bakahenzie had retired to his hut, presumably for the night, as Marufa had done before him, he girded himself with an amulet containing the gall of an enemy killed in battle and a short stabbing spear and sallied forth through a hole in the fence to brave the spirits of the forests in his need.In the village generally sleep was not entertained with enthusiasm by any save those women and slaves who knew not of the great happenings. In the hut of Yabolo were MYalu and Sakamata. From the old men MYalu received much consolation and advice, but no information as to why the wizards had bolted as fast as the laymen from ghosts invoked by their own magic. Sakamata confirmed authoritatively Yabolo’s suspicion that the phenomena had been produced through the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands, urging that they lose no time in going to him to make submission. Yabolo had already decided on that course, but MYalu refused to give a definite decision as to when he would go. He sat sullenly, saying no word, and eventually departed to his own hut where he dismissed his wives and continued to brood.The fear and rage aroused by the anointing of the warriors for the capture of Bakuma had been dissipated by the general panic produced by the ghosts. Afterwards MYalu had unconsciously hoped, because he so desired it, that the pursuit of the Bride would be abandoned; hence Bakahenzie’s renewal of the chase had angered and frightened him anew. As all the rest of them, he wondered and pondered upon the[pg 220]fate of Zalu Zako and Marufa. Marufa, as he well knew, had a black heart and two tongues; therefore was he suspicious of any manifestation with which the son of MTungo could be connected. Zalu Zako was wealthy; perhaps he had bribed Marufa to make magic in order to enable him to escape the doom of the king-godship and to flee to another country with Bakuma under the protection of Moonspirit. A lover’s jealousy is as powerful a driving force as ambition. In this case it drove even MYalu to defy the spirits of the night, for at the hour of the monkey he too stole away into the gloom.So it was that as the patterned roof of the forest was etched in the timid green of dawn peeped MYalu through the gate of the zareba of Moonspirit to discover the gaunt form of Bakahenzie squatted by the embers of a fire within a deserted compound. Bakahenzie’s quick eyes, on the alert for ghosts or any moving thing, saw him; so coldly MYalu advanced and sat beside him, grunting the formal greeting.MYalu noted the age of the spoor about the compound, the tent peg holes newly pulled. Now was he sure that Marufa and Zalu Zako were in league with Moonspirit. Wrath smouldered in his broad chest. At length spoke Bakahenzie casually:“The Bride of the Banana hath been taken away.”Bakahenzie paused as if weighing his words, and added:“But the feet of spirits are heavy on the land.”MYalu grunted. Bakahenzie had an idea and to MYalu was born another about the same instant. Said Bakahenzie, who wished to know the whereabouts of Marufa, Moonspirit and company:“If the Marriage[pg 221]of the Bride be not consummated then will the power of Eyes-in-the-hands prevail.”And after a long pause:“Who will seek the Bride?”MYalu remained silent, revolving his own notion in his mind. There remained with him still many traces of the awe and belief in the power and knowledge of Bakahenzie, and so his words threatening the triumph of Eyes-in-the-hands assured and strengthened his purpose; for he thought that if he could accomplish his plan then would Eyes-in-the-hands surely triumph as Bakahenzie predicted. Thus it was that he said:“O master of Wisdom, give unto me a mighty charm against the evil eye of traitors and will I and those that follow me seek the Bride and bring her so that which is bidden may be, that the children of the Banana may triumph.”MYalu rose. The two started on the return to the village. On the road Bakahenzie sought to flatter MYalu by pretending to take him into his confidence, adjuring him to secrecy and informing him that he would cause it to be known that MYalu, the son of MBusa, would bring back the Bride of the Banana. MYalu assented gravely. Just before reaching the village his keen eyes noticed a slight trail from the regular path. Broken, twisted and crushed leaves and strained branches indicated the recent passage of two or three people through the undergrowth.With difficulty, for the Wongolo are not forest people, he followed the spoor in a semi-circle towards the village and a footprint in the slime revealed the track of Zalu Zako or Marufa coming from the fires. MYalu[pg 222]grunted, but he said nothing to Bakahenzie or anybody else. That the vision had been caused by Moonspirit’s magic he had now no doubt, and his estimation of Moonspirit’s power increased to the point of terror; yet the smouldering jealousy and desire for Bakuma drove him dreadfully on.Before the sun was two spans high MYalu left the village with some two hundred of his followers anointed against magic and spirits. The track from Moonspirit’s camp was like an elephant’s path. Through the steamy heat they followed all day until they came out upon a river near to a village upon the border of the forest. The headman of the village was away with his chief; but women, children and slaves remained. Zalu Zako, in the company of a white man called Moonspirit, Marufa, the wizard, and a girl had arrived, had taken three canoes and had left up-stream within a hand’s breadth of a shadow. MYalu took all the canoes available and started in pursuit, leaving the rest of his men to follow as soon as they had procured other canoes from the nearest village.The river was small but deep and flowed swiftly between the vast curtains of the overhanging trees. When the dungeon of the forest was glooming to night they saw the gleam of a fire. Swiftly and silently they landed, surrounded the camp and uttering the war yell, rushed.But Moonspirit, Zalu Zako or Marufa they found not—only Bakuma with some dozen Wamungo carriers. Even the dismal squawk of a Baroto bird could not damp the relief and joy of MYalu. Next morning he despatched a secret messenger to Yabolo,[pg 223]making a rendezvous at a certain village and with a weeping Bakuma in his train set out to seek the rest of his fortune at the camp of Eyes-in-the-hands.[pg 224]Chapter 21In the village of Bakahenzie was discontent.The desertion of Sakamata, Yabolo, and three chiefs, had corroborated his suspicions of the unfrocked priest. That Sakamata had been preaching open sedition he had known, yet Bakahenzie was in the situation of many a president or prime minister; he had feared to put his own position in jeopardy by having the offender removed expeditiously. This treachery, which synchronised with the time when MYalu should have either returned or sent a messenger, implied another grave error. All the information he could gather was that MYalu had returned through the village by the river with the girl Bakuma, some prisoners and some of the white man’s equipment, on his way to the north-east; but no one apparently had seen Zalu Zako, Marufa nor the white man.Bakahenzie was at a loss to discover a plausible theory to account for MYalu having kidnapped Bakuma, who could not be of any political importance to him in going over to Eyes-in-the-hands, but would rather prejudice him seriously with the rest of the tribe for the sin of sacrilege in taking the Bride of the Banana. Shrewd judge of his compatriots though he was, the possibility of a love motive never occurred to Bakahenzie. A dominating passion in an individual for any particular female was rare in the native world; attractive wives or concubines were chosen and[pg 225]bought as one buys a goat or an ox. Bakuma, in her capacity as a sacrificial victim, was to him merely a good-looking girl, well selected by Marufa for the orgy of the Harvest Festival.Bakahenzie was distraught. He feared that he had not the authority to prevent further desertions; he did not know how far Sakamata’s propaganda had permeated; he could not guess what Zalu Zako, Marufa and the white man were going to do. As many a wise statesman before and after him he adopted a policy of“wait and see.”To provide an exciting distraction to keep his constituents amused and from thinking too much, he borrowed another political tactic of abusing some one vigorously. He called a meeting of the faculty and the warriors. There he solemnly denounced MYalu as a traitor and accused him of the crime of having abducted the Bride of the Banana, and consequently as the cause of the continuance of the misfortunes of the tribe.The move was successful, inasmuch that it afforded discussion and absorbed wrath for two whole days. Various chiefs proposed as many plans. But none was taken. Everybody was discontented and quarrelsome, as fearful of Eyes-in-the-hands as he was of his tribal god; many were impressed by the propaganda of Sakamata and Yabolo and the impunity with which Yabolo and Sakamata and company had quietly gone over to the enemy. Meanwhile Bakahenzie squatted in oracular silence, murmuring incantations that were prayers to the Unmentionable One interlarded with promises of the things he would accomplish for the said Deity, with solemnity and sincerity, for he felt that the result of Marufa’s[pg 226]intrigue with the magician Moonspirit would mature very shortly. What that would be he had no notion; only he strained every nerve to be alert when the crisis came to snatch from Marufa the advantage that wily old man had gained.On the third day two more chiefs followed in the wake of Yabolo. Bakahenzie made no comment, but he realised that before long, unless the unknown happened, he would be unable to retain any of his followers; realised that his one chance lay in procrastination. In his despair he began to contemplate an alliance with Marufa, even if he had to take a subordinate rôle—which would at any rate give him his only ally, time, to help checkmate his colleague.On the next day yet another chief and his men departed. Bakahenzie knew that they were like a herd of goats and that to stop the stampede he must adopt desperate measures. To quell the restlessness which murmured ominously throughout the camp he called another meeting as soon as the news had come of the last desertion. While the drum tapped out the summons Bakahenzie sat muttering his most impressive spells alone, endeavouring to discover a plausible excuse for some sort of excitement to distract the public mind.Slowly and sulkily the remainder of the brethren of the craft and those lay chiefs that were left, assembled within the circle of fires. Squatted in the prescribed order they eyed the figure of Bakahenzie in his red and green feathers mumbling incantations with doubt and disfavour. Indeed Bakahenzie seemed to them the symbol of the fallen god and a past régime; impotent and as mistaken as they were. In each and every[pg 227]one of them were suspicions and fears growing like weeds in tropic rain that he had made an error in not propitiating the new god in time, an impulse which required but a few hours’ growth to propel them out to the north-east after Sakamata and the others.As they watched in silence Bakahenzie was aware of the state of their minds towards him and grew the more perplexed in his search for an entertainment sufficiently stimulating to postpone the effects of their discontent. Sapiently he decided that any more messages from Tarum would be unwise in the present atmosphere. An idea of a revelation by divination to appoint a substitute for Bakuma as the Bride of the Banana and thus thrust forward a reason for a feast, as there was now no Yabolo to object, was abandoned because such an orgy was exclusive to the craft and would serve to exasperate the lay chiefs.His resource suggested a method. Suddenly he uttered a piercing yell and fell sideways as in the manner of one about to receive a communication from Tarum; but instead of the habitual seizure and cries and groans he lay rigid and silent. The divergence from the usual distracted the doubts of the audience.The fires flickered and danced to the insectile anthem as for twenty minutes or more he lay there as one dead. But at the first flutter of inattention among the doctors he sat up with closed eyes and called out in a loud voice:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Intuitively he had followed the precept of witch-doctors the world over of saying nothing at all in such a way that as many interpretations may be deduced as there are listeners. Each and every doctor and[pg 228]chief accordingly saw in these mystic words, as Marufa had done in the chance phrase of Moonspirit, that which he was most urged to do. Bakahenzie had accomplished his temporary object. Once more he cried out:“Let the children of the Banana be as the wild-cat at the fishpool that that which I have prophesied may come to pass!”The charging of the air with the familiar suggestion of magical doings gripped the audience and forced from them the conventional grunt of assent. Bakahenzie began again to mutter incantations. He had, he knew, averted the immediate danger for at least another sun, or perhaps two. Now was there only to wait and see. But Bakahenzie, as all great men, had the distinct vein of luck that follows the bold. Even as they squatted there, thoroughly worked up for the reception of a miracle, came a rustle among the leaves. Every head turned as one to see once more the mystic gleam of eyes in the gloom as the voice of Marufa cried:“Let there be a new fire!”From the cavern of the undergrowth emerged a white man bearing upon his shoulders a burden which, as he staggered into the gleam of the fires, was seen to be in form and in shape that of the burned idol. Then did Bakahenzie leap to his feet and in one stroke recover his lead and fetter his most dangerous enemy by proclaiming in a loud voice:“Behold! The bearer of the Burden of the World even as Bakahenzie hath prophesied!”And as Birnier set down the idol, from warrior and wizard, with the chief witch-doctor’s declaration,[pg 229]“That which is and must be, shall be,”echoing in their ears, came the deep grunt of acceptance of the new King-God of the lost Usakuma, the Incarnation of the Unmentionable One.[pg 230]Chapter 22In the humid heat of the forenoon the small hills of Fort Eitel, as zu Pfeiffer had renamed the Place of Kings, in the centre of the rased banana plantations, resembled scabby pimples upon a shaven patch of a green head seething with a verminous activity.Across the ford of the river came a puckered-faced Bakuma in the train of carriers and slaves of MYalu, who with Yabolo was coming to make obeisance to Eyes-in-the-hands, under the protection of Sakamata. To Bakuma there was no joy in the prospect of the sight of her old home; the bitter taste of the oleander was in her mouth as she trudged despondently with downcast head.But the breast of MYalu was filled with the song of the cricket. The terrors that had haunted him throughout the journey, of being overtaken by the magic of Bakahenzie or his emissaries, for the sacrilege of stealing the Bride of the Banana, began to evaporate at the approach to his village where now dwelt a new god more powerful than any, from whom he was about to gain protection, honours, and incidentally the ivory, which his anxious eyes pictured still within his hut. But when they broke from the outer banana plantation a mighty grunt was punched from the chests of Yabolo and MYalu at the vision of the half-completed street of large huts in the midst of desolation.“Eh!”quoth Sakamata,“is not the way of the[pg 231]mighty one more wonderful than he who is gone? Behold, he maketh a city like unto that of his people, a city of gods!”But MYalu had no admiration to spare, for to him the alleged beauty thereof was fogged by the fact that his own huts were but blackened ruins. The next moment MYalu, in spite of his native dignity, started as one of those uniformed keepers of the coughing monsters barked at them magic words.Sakamata replied. Yabolo and MYalu stiffened as they observed the cringe of the shoulders as he fumbled hastily within his loin-cloth and presented a piece of hard substance, the colour of blue clay with magic marks upon it. The demon grunted at them to proceed as if talking to a slave. Followed in file the rest of the caravan. As Bakuma passed the uniformed demon standing with the sword and gun with seven voices upon his shoulder, leered, and grunting in a strange tongue, stepped forward and spun her round by the shoulders. Bakuma cried out in terror and the carriers gasped fearfully. MYalu and Yabolo wheeled. MYalu’s facial scar twitched with rage as he raised his spear. But Sakamata clung to his arm as the soldier, grinning, raised his rifle in their direction. Bakuma ran on. The man laughed and turned his back to them, calling out something that the Wongolo could not understand.“Eh!”commented Sakamata indignantly,“the dog hath eaten poison grass! We will tell his words to Eyes-in-the-hands and he will be beaten until he stales.”MYalu, slightly mollified by this promise of revenge, strode on in silence, bewildered and resentful, wondering[pg 232]at these strange things in the camp of the new god. In a large open space resembling a public square, was a big unfinished hut: the guest house, Sakamata informed them, for those who sought an audience with the Invincible One. As they squatted on the floor waiting patiently until the sun was two hand’s-breadth above the hill for the appointed time, food and beer were brought to them by a Wamungo slave. Zu Pfeiffer was careful to foster the class distinction. Sakamata duly held forth upon the generosity of Eyes-in-the-hands, the wonder of his works and presence; but his words were received in unsympathetic silence, for the incident on the road had wounded the dignity of both chief and witch-doctor; raised dim fears and forebodings.At length a strange sound rang out on the still hot air. The signal, Sakamata explained, that Eyes-in-the-hands would receive his guests. Leaving Bakuma squatted in the lethargy which appeared to be habitual to her now, the three slowly mounted the sacred hill, marvelling greatly at the black triangle of the roof of the new temple, gazing with veiled suspicion at the gleaming brass fittings of the coughing monster in the great gate, and eyeing uneasily the double lines of uniformed devils, their bayonets flaming in the sun, who were drawn up outside the green palace of Eyes-in-the-hands.On each side of the tent door stood the two tallest men in the companies, coal-black forms which towered above the slighter build of the Wongolo, as rigid and as silent as trees. Through this terrifying guard walked Sakamata leading his two compatriots, already startled and impressed. Immediately within Sakamata[pg 233]fell upon his knees. Before them at the end of the tent sat zu Pfeiffer in the full dress of his regiment, plumed helmet, blazoned uniform and sword; and beside him, erect, the two sergeants Schultz and Ludwig in full parade uniform. Above them was a blaze of red, white and black and in the midst another splash of colour. But before this vision had penetrated their brains, had risen the voice of Sakamata bidding them to kneel likewise. Bewildered and awed they obeyed. Then came a voice saying:“Rise, approach, O chiefs!”Accordingly they arose and following Sakamata, advanced and squatted, their eyes dominated and held by those myriad gleams of magic“eyes”on hands and wrists. Then the interpreter, standing at attention, spoke this harangue tonelessly:“Greeting and welcome, children of the Banana! Eyes-in-the-hands who is known to the people where the sun rises as the Eater-of-Men, hath come from afar, the messenger of a greater than he, the Lord of the World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler, who eats up what he pleases, whose eyes see all things, whose sword slays all things, whose breath is the rain, whose voice is the thunder, whose teeth are the lightning, whose frown is the earthquake, whose smile is the sun, whose ear is the moon, whose eyes are the stars, whose body is the world! Look upon one soul of him which he hath sent that ye may worship and know him!”Zu Pfeiffer raised the jewelled hand above his shoulder as the man ceased. From out the medley of colours to the unaccustomed native eyes grew slowly the form and face of a white man as strangely clothed as[pg 234]Eyes-in-the-hands, covered with amulets and charms upon his breast. For four minutes by his wrist-watch, zu Pfeiffer sat silent and as frozen as his sergeants; then secretly he pulled a string.“Ehh!”grunted Yabolo and MYalu involuntarily, for before them appeared even, as Sakamata had related, the two souls of every person present. Stunned at such a manifestation of magic, they slowly turned from one to the other. As silently as they had appeared did the visions vanish.“O son of MYana, tell the tale of the possession of these thy friends and allies,”commanded zu Pfeiffer.Sakamata obeyed. But as he recited the approximate number of MYalu’s followers, the number of his oxen and goats, the number of fine tusks and small, the number of wives, concubines, and children, and slaves, the eyes of MYalu grew unquiet. Had he known that he would be required to render an account he would have computed at half the actual amount, whereas, in order to impress Sakamata with his importance, he had exaggerated to almost double what he had ever possessed. Then as Sakamata proceeded to perform the same service for Yabolo, relating, by arrangement with his relative, about one-third of his possession, MYalu observed in a corner a man making magic upon a table, a native clerk keeping tally; for zu Pfeiffer kept an exact record of every chief’s alleged possessions, as given by Sakamata and corroborated—by silent consent—by the said chief, so that when afterwards any discrepancy with the said list was discovered, the chief was proven a liar and subject to the punishment of further confiscation as such, and served[pg 235]as well to enhance the reputation for omniscience of Eyes-in-the-hands.At the end of the recitals of property, MYalu was told, not asked, to bow his head to the ground in token of allegiance. He obeyed in bewilderment which changed to rage when he was informed that the third of his property must be rendered to the august being before one sun’s delay; that he was to be ready at a summons to produce a given number of warriors; and that his small and only son was immediately to be placed in the“village of sons of chiefs”as guaranty of obedience and good behaviour.In a mist of fright, anger and awe, he sat motionless. Sakamata proceeded to relate the doings of Zalu Zako and those who had remained faithful to him. Zu Pfeiffer had fairly precise information from spies of the movements of the Wongolo since the return of Sergeant Ludwig, who had burned the village ofYagonyana, but shortage of men and the serious disadvantage of traversing and fighting in the forest had prevented him from sending another punitive expedition. Also had he heard of a white man who had passed through the country. Sakamata, native-like, eager to placate, asserted that he had actually seen the white man who was called Moonspirit, and from the same motive, ever wishing to flatter, announced positively that he had no magic at all, was dark and small and a trader, the only kind of white man other than the military at Ingonya of whom Sakamata had ever seen.Zu Pfeiffer stroked his left moustache and reflected. He had at first thought that the man might possibly be Saunders, a trader who was in his pay, but now[pg 236]decided that he was probably some new trader or hunter from the Tanganyika district. He instructed Sakamata that he was to send a messenger to this white man and command him to come to him immediately. Then waving the imperious jewelled hand, he dismissed them. But noticing the sullen countenance of MYalu, he drew Sergeant Schultz’s attention, ordering him to mark the man and if the tax was not forthcoming quickly, to have him given fifty lashes. Silently Schultz saluted.So it was that MYalu, sulky, smouldering with anger against Sakamata, for he felt that he had been betrayed into a trap, followed Yabolo out into the sun. Not only had he not gotten back his ivory left in the village, but he was ordered to pay much more than he actually possessed.But when he had descended the hill to the guest house he came to the weeping and wailing of his people, who informed him that Bakuma had been taken away by three of the demon keepers of the coughing monsters.[pg 237]Chapter 23Upon the site of Birnier’s old camp in the forest was a high palisade built from tree to tree. Inside of the gate beside a small conical hut burned the sacred fires tended by Mungongo; before a green canvas tent stood the new idol, which differed from the original in having a better perspective and proportion of features and body, yet lacked the master touch of expression given by the subconscious fingers of the native artist.Against the wall were stacked uniform cases to make a table, upon which were a hand-mirror and toilet articles; above a photograph of Lucille was pinned upon the canvas. Upon the camp bed, screened by a mosquito net, lay the new King-God, Moonspirit, the magic book in his hands.“Kings, princes, monarchs, and magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate; you shall find them to be most cumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony, suspicion, jealousy: that as he (Valer. i. 7, c. 3) saith of a crown, if they but knew the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to pick it up. Quem mihi regem dabis (saith Chrysostom) non curis plenum?”The Incarnation of the Unmentionable One smiled,[pg 238]put down the book and glanced across at the photograph.“And yet they still talk of the advantages of a monarchy!”he commented.The original plan concocted with Marufa and Zalu Zako in the forest when making the new idol was that Birnier should become chief witch-doctor and Zalu Zako be anointed King-God, with Marufa as the power behind the throne. Although Zalu Zako desired to escape the yoke, his protest was enfeebled by the sense of fatality, and had been utterly squashed by the promise of Marufa, at Birnier’s suggestion, that the sex tabu would be lifted from the godhead. But the negligence of Marufa in allowing the white man to carry the idol, arranged with the idea of investing Moonspirit with greater prestige according to the prophecies already announced by Tarum, had permitted Bakahenzie to make hiscoup d’état—thrust the godhood upon the white and recover his own position.Birnier in truth had little option of refusal as well as little time for reflection upon a situation the possibility of which had not occurred to him; for Marufa was completely out-manœuvred by his rival, and the certainty of escape from his doom offered by Bakahenzie revived the image of Bakuma in Zalu Zako and bought his partisanship instantly.With Napoleonic swiftness to grasp the advantages gained Bakahenzie drove the lay chiefs from the sacred presence, which he surrounded by a bodyguard of the awed brethren; expelled the household from Zalu Zako’s compound and hustled the incarnation, bearing the new god, into holy isolation.Bewildered by the rapidity of the moves Marufa and[pg 239]Zalu Zako were separated from Moonspirit. In the general confusion, not knowing exactly what was happening, Birnier complied with what he believed to be the regulations regarding gods. But when he perceived that he was about to be left alone he clutched Mungongo and refused to part with him. Bakahenzie, compelled to avoid any delay before consolidating his position, instantly shut up Mungongo in the same web by declaring him the Keeper of the Sacred Fires and so disposed of any agent outside the tabu or craft. As soon as this was accomplished and a dance to celebrate the lighting of the new fires commanded, the wily chief witch-doctor approached Marufa who, realizing that he was hopelessly outwitted, was only too eager to make the best terms possible.Birnier had known that the King-God was never allowed to be seen by the populace except at the Harvest Festival, yet he accepted his isolation philosophically, lured by the expectation of the secrets he was about to learn, although his curiosity led sometimes to the vision of a god peeping through a fence.While the drums summoning the council of chiefs and wizards were muttering through the moist air, to Birnier, squatting on the floor of Zalu Zako’s hut with Mungongo beside him, came Bakahenzie to instruct him in his rôle. To whet his curiosity still more he learned that from the moment of appearance in the gate of the sacred enclosure for the ceremony of the lighting of the royal fires, every movement of body and speech was regulated as rigidly as the etiquette of the Court of Spain. At a signal from the chief witch-doctor was the King-God to leave the hut and[pg 240]appear from behind the idol; with arms in a certain position was he to approach and squat at an exact spot. To Mungongo was given charge of the two fire sticks, newly consecrated.As the chief witch-doctor retired the chanting began. Interested to know what was about to happen Birnier obeyed in the spirit of a game. So in the warm darkness they squatted, these two, listening to the chanting, cries and groans to the accompaniment of the drums and lyres and the perpetual twitter of the forest. At last came a violent howl from Bakahenzie which Mungongo declared was their cue.Around the circle of the fence to avoid the eyes of the audience ran Mungongo to the temporary Place of Fires. Feeling as if he were once more playing in an amateur dramatic club, Birnier stalked with portentous dignity from the hut, past the idol, and took his seat upon the enchanted place. Without the palisade and within another squatted in correct order the lines of wizards and chiefs, Zalu Zako retaining, rather by prestige of his former holiness and indecision as to what his status really was, his position at their head.Upon his haunches before a large calabash upon a fire Bakahenzie finished the mumbling of incantations over the sacred ingredients, and leaping to his feet began a wild dance to the throb of the drums and the diaphragmatic chorus of the assembled cult.… Swifter and swifter spun the chief witch-doctor. The glow of the fire tinted his whirling bronze body with flecks of green and red as he gyrated in and out of the shadows. Suddenly he threw a handful of herbs upon the fire which was immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke,[pg 241]into which with a screech Bakahenzie disappeared.… The drums and grunting ceased. Then in the swirling column of blue appeared his figure holding something in his hands. To the wild outburst of drums and groans he sprang towards the King-God elect and anointed his breast and shoulders with a pungent compound, and leaped away into another dance, while Mungongo plied the two fire sticks. When the spark was blown upon the dry tinder and the first flame flickered Bakahenzie dropped flat before the gate as from the wizards went up the great shout:“The fire is lighted!”And from the mass of warriors and folk confined to their huts behind the outer palisade the phrase was echoed in a mighty wail, startling monkeys and parrots into as wild an acclamation of the new King-God.Bakahenzie, rising to his haunches, began a chant in honour of the new King, a chant based upon the song composed by Marufa and repeated on the phonograph, but developing even stranger merits and attributes. Until the first glimmer of dawn through the forest roof squatted Birnier, as motionless as etiquette demanded, listening to the strange psalm of praise with avid interest and observation.Suddenly, amid a furious clamour of the drums, Bakahenzie, Marufa, and one other of the inner cult of the five who had not deserted, led the body of the doctors in a rush into the sacred enclosure, seized upon the startled King and hustled him to the base of the idol where, yielding to the whispered instructions of Marufa, he took the idol once more upon his shoulders and guided by Bakahenzie, walked out of the gate and[pg 242]through the village to the yelling and screaming of the wizards, some of whom, according to precedent, ran about screeching and rattling hut doors, pulling thatches and howling ferociously in search of any sacrilegious peeper.As he tramped on with his load Marufa yelled in his ear that he must carry the Burden of the World no matter what happened to him, for if he let the idol fall then would he be killed upon the spot to save the sky from falling too. Wondering what this meant and where he was going, the cut of thongs upon his legs surprised him into a halt. Immediately a terrific cry went up:“The Bearer of the World stumbles! Aie! Aieeeeeeeee!”Despite the furious flogging the intellectual interest in this strange conception distracted his mind from the pain of the blows; also his bare back was protected by the idol and his leggings and trousers deadened the lashes. A moment more he hesitated. But he was unarmed and had voluntarily taken on the adventure, so he would see it through. As he broke into a shuffling run, for the idol fortunately was lighter than the previous one and he was a more powerful man than Kawa Kendi, another howl of joy and relief echoed throughout the village.So along the old forest trail he travelled as fast as he could, assisted slightly by wizards’ hands as he crawled over clumps of undergrowth. The intensity of the whipping had decreased as soon as they were out of the village but throughout an occasional vicious whack testified to the presence of some devout doctor. Thus it was that the white King-God came[pg 243]to his throne and sat in state upon his bed to smile at the reflections of a melancholic philosopher.So far so good, reflected Birnier, although the enforced isolation and strict curtailment of his actions had already begun to be irksome; yet to attain so difficult a goal sacrifice must be borne, he argued philosophically.The royal larder, he noticed with thankfulness, was kept well stocked. Every day appeared a slave who left just within the entrance chickens, bananas, milk and fresh water, and sometimes a young goat. All such provisions which he had happened to take into the forest with him and so had escaped MYalu’s marauding hands had been placed in his tent with other cases, as containing no man knew what mighty magic.For three days he had been left utterly alone. Sounds of drums and chanting from the distant village had reached them on the still air, but what they were doing he could not discover. No layman was allowed to come near the sacred enclosure. While he strolled, taking a smoke and constitutional around and around his“pen,”as he put it, several of the lesser wizards appeared and stood at a distance from the gate to stare at him. When addressed they made no reply. On the second occasion he began to be irritated, but he kept his temper and went to cover in his tent, muttering:“Why the devil don’t they bring me some buns?”On the fourth day patience began to fray. He had no notion of knowing how long this quarantine was going to last. He was on the point of going to find out, but Mungongo pleaded so earnestly that they would[pg 244]instantly be killed if they did, that he desisted. So Birnier retired to the tent to seek consolation from a record of Lucille’s voice.Birnier attempted to cross-examine Mungongo to find out what was the object of this isolation, but beyond the fact that strangers were never permitted to behold the King-God, even lay natives, without special magic, which was only made once a year at the Harvest Festival, lest evil be made upon his person and so endanger the world, Mungongo did not know; merely, that so it was. What power over the head witch-doctor the King really had, Mungongo had no notion. The King-God was the most powerful magician known, asserted Mungongo. Did he not make rain and bear the world upon his shoulders? When Birnier unwisely denied this feat, Mungongo looked pained and began a remark, but balked before the name Moonspirit to ask the name of Birnier’s father.At the mental image conjured up of a handsome white-haired planter and ex-owner of many slaves Birnier smiled, but he knew the tabu regarding the ban upon the names of the dead and that he, presumably, having ascended into the divine plane, was therefore classed with the departed. He recollected that the old man, who belonged to a cadet branch of a royalist family, had been called“le Marquis,”of which he was excessively proud. Birnier translated into the dialect the nearest possible rendition of the title: The Lord-of-many-Lands.“The son of the Lord-of-many-Lands,”continued Mungongo satisfied,“doth but tickle the feet of his slave.”[pg 245]On the fifth afternoon, while the god was engrossed in a cure for love madness which, he reflected, might be of service to zu Pfeiffer, came a voice without crying:“The son of Maliko would speak with the Lord, the Bearer of the World!”Birnier glanced across at the photograph of Lucille.“Some job I’ve gotten!”he remarked as he rose. In the gate sat Bakahenzie. Birnier was conscious of an idiotic impulse to rush forward to greet him as an old and long lost friend. But remembering the dignity of his godhood he remained in the tent doorway, bidding the chief witch-doctor to advance.Birnier retired backwards and sat beneath the net, for the mosquitoes were as thick as they are on the bayou Barataria. Mungongo, possibly to prove his erudition, sat upon one of the cases containing much magic, at which Bakahenzie from the floor in the doorway looked askance. Birnier was keenly anxious to know what was happening regarding the fortunes of the tribe, hoping that with the restoration of the Unmentionable One that they would return to their allegiance. According to etiquette he remained silent, waiting for Bakahenzie to open the conversation, until, realizing that he was a god and that the chief witch-doctor was doing the same thing, reflected swiftly and desiring to make an impression, repeated Bakahenzie’s mystic phrase which he had overheard whilst hiding in the jungle previous to the dénouement:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Bakahenzie grunted his acknowledgment of the profundity of the statement.“He who would trap the leopard must needs dig the pit!”Another uncompromising silence[pg 246]urged Birnier to force the pace a little:“O son of Maliko, what say the omens and the signs of the evil one, Eyes-in-the-hands?”“When shall the Unmentionable One return unto the Place of Kings?”demanded Bakahenzie.“The Holy One returneth not unto the place appointed until that which defileth is removed,”retorted Birnier.Bakahenzie took snuff and appeared to consider. Then he glanced around the tent as if in search of something.“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”Mungongo looked expectant and stood up. But Birnier ignored him.“The fruit doth not fall until it be ripe. He would know what hath been done by his slaves for the baiting of the pit for the unclean one.”“Would the magician that cometh from the sea make pretence that an elephant is a mouse?”inquired Bakahenzie.For a moment Birnier was perplexed; then he realized that the chief witch-doctor inferred that he, as King-God, mocked his priest by pretending that he did not know all things.“Doth the chief witch-doctor make magic for the curing of the scratch of a girl of the hut thatch?”he retorted.“Lest thy heart wither like unto a fallen leaf, know then that the soul of Tarum hath made words for the return of the Unmentionable One to the Place of Kings, but that his children may not be as the dogs of the village who are driven, he wills that you prepare the pit for the trapping of the defiled[pg 247]one.”Bakahenzie’s eyes stolidly regarded the tent wall.“O son of Maliko, hast thou sent forth the sound of the drum throughout the land that the children may know of the Coming?”“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”demanded Bakahenzie insistently.Birnier sat motionless in the native manner. Irritated by this childish tenacity to apparently a fixed idea, he yielded to an impulse which was almost a weakness.“O son of Maliko,”said he,“thou art a mighty magician!”Bakahenzie grunted modest assent.“Even as I am.”Another grunt.“Give unto me thine ears and thine eyes that I may reveal unto thee that which is known to the mightiest of magicians.”Commanding the delighted Mungongo to bring out the phonograph, he continued:“Thou hast heard of the mighty doings of the unclean devourer of men, Eyes-in-the-hands. I have magic the like of which man hath never seen. Is it not so?”“Ough!”“Yet will the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands make thee to see that which is, is not!”“That which is, is not,”repeated Bakahenzie, whose professional mind was pleased with the phrase.In the desire to explain rationally the mystery of a phonograph and despairing of any attempt to describe the laws of vibration, Birnier sought for a likely simile. Encouraged by the almost imperceptible fact that he had awakened Bakahenzie’s visible interest, he plunged on:“Within this piece of tree is there nought but many pieces of iron such as thy spears are made of. Thou knowest that there are[pg 248]places by the river and in the rocks where a man may speak and that his words will be returned to him. Is it not so?”“They are white words, O son of the Lord-of-many-Lands!”returned Bakahenzie.“For the spirits of the river and the rocks mock the voices of those who have not eaten of the Sacred Banana”(the uninitiated).“But they mock thy voice as well,”protested Birnier.“Are there not goats in ghostland who bleat at the wizard and the peasant?”“By the Lord!”murmured Birnier, although the mask of his face did not change.“Ghostland is full of goats if one were to credit some of the most modern witch-doctors! Still demonstration …“Thou seest, fellow magician,”he continued,“the pod of the soul of mighty Tarum, his ear like unto an elephant, his colour like unto a lion!”Birnier got out of the mosquito net and knelt beside the phonograph in front of Bakahenzie. Taking off the trumpet and cylinder carrier he opened up the inside, revealing the clockwork motor, wound it up, stopped it and released it.“Thine eyes see that my words are white. These things are but as pieces of metal of thy spears. Is it not so?”“Ough!”Birnier closed the machine, adjusted the trumpet and put on the cylinder of Marufa’s record.“Aie! Aiee! I am the spirit of Kintu!Aie! Aiee! I am he who first was!”chanted the machine.Birnier, noticing that the desired astonishment was[pg 249]registered by an almost impalpable start, stopped the machine and changed the record.“Rejoice, O my children, for he that is bidden shall come!Rejoice, O ye warriors, for he that shall lead you shall come!Rejoice, O ye wizards, for he that is greater than ye shall come!Rejoice, O ye women, for he that fertilizes shall come!”Birnier allowed the machine to run through the chant until the end:“He shall come forth bearing that which ye seek!Hear ye, my people, and give voice to my word!”The machine whirred and stopped. Birnier turned to Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that my words are white?”“Ough!”assented Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that at the will of my finger upon that which is made but of spear-heads that the voice of Tarum hath spoken, the voice which is but the mocking voice of Marufa amid the trees of the forest?”“Ough!”“Dost thou not know that he who knows the ways of rocks, who can make pieces of spear into that which will say and do that which he wills, is a greater magician than he who must needs go unto the rocks to be mocked?”“Thou art the greatest of magicians, O son of the[pg 250]Lord-of-many-Lands,”responded Bakahenzie in a burst of eloquence.“For thou hast entrapped the spirits of rocks and spears to do thy bidding.”“O God!”sighed the professor,“what is the use of language?”

[pg 214]Chapter 20The actual sight of spirits from ghostland, of which hitherto they had only heard, had been too much for the nerves of the tribe already overstrung by the overthrow of the idol and the magic and slaughter of zu Pfeiffer; the warriors had fled like scared poultry to the jungle, up trees, in the undergrowth and in their huts, where they cowered among their women and slaves, reading awful omens and portents in every sound of the forest.The phenomenon had been just as startling and awe-inspiring to Bakahenzie as it had been to his most ignorant dupe. His belief in ghostland was implicit, but now he had seen what, professionally, he was supposed to see and converse with on familiar terms. As Zalu Zako disappeared he continued to listen intently. Above the slight rustle of the bushes as the Son-of-the-Snake moved through the undergrowth rose a feminine laugh. Bakahenzie’s liver was squeezed by that sardonic chuckle; for, as is well known, female demons are much more malignant than the male. For the space of a chant he remained crouching there, curiosity and the dread of revealing his terror to his fellows tugging at his feet and fear of the demons clutching him around the waist. Save the anthem of the forest no further sound of the ghosts was audible.[pg 215]Cautiously rose Bakahenzie, wriggled out of his nest and with as much dignity as maybe, strode back to the fire. From the village came a slight whimpering. With satisfaction Bakahenzie noted that no one else was in sight. For another space he sat with unquiet eyes and ears upon the forest. Then gathering courage as nothing happened, he pondered upon what attitude he should assume.Yabolo stalked from round a hut and squatting calmly beside Bakahenzie, nonchalantly proceeded to tap out snuff and offered some to Bakahenzie, who grunted acceptance and sniffed with even greater indifference. Motionless they continued to sit and silently. Bakahenzie wondered whether Yabolo knew that he, too, had fled, and Yabolo, who did know, waited for the first move on Bakahenzie’s part to retort.Yabolo, indeed, who had been as panic-stricken as Bakahenzie, was more suspicious in view of the accounts he had heard of the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. Who knew but this vision might not be another manifestation of Eyes-in-the-hands? And more slowly a similar idea began to occur to Bakahenzie, save that he had in mind the incident of Moonspirit’s magic in the face of his bravest warriors. The calmer he became the more was he inclined to accept this explanation of the apparitions; such was infinitely more comforting to him than the conception that they had been in truth spirits from ghostland. As the doubt grew the wisdom of propitiating this powerful Moonspirit became apparent; yet was present the dread of loosing what remained of his autocratic power. The problem now was to enlist the white[pg 216]and discover some means of controlling him and his magic.But to both men the vital question was, what had become of Zalu Zako? There were two alternatives: if the visions had been genuine ghosts, then undoubtedly Zalu Zako was dead; but if they had been produced through the magic of a white man, then, Bakahenzie argued, Zalu Zako and Marufa must be in league with Moonspirit, and Yabolo opined that Zalu Zako had been captured by Eyes-in-the-hands. To the latter the effect was to strengthen the determination to go over to Eyes-in-the-hands. If the first possibility was correct the greater need had he of strong magic if real ghosts were taking to walking abroad visibly, and the other case merely proved beyond question the invincible magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. But to Bakahenzie the reaction was slightly different, for his elemental reason took him a little farther than Yabolo by pointing out that in all his wide experience never had spirits taken demons’ shape, so that the suspicion that they had been due to Moonspirit became more plausible, and was supported by the recollection of Marufa’s unexplained absence and sudden reappearance on familiar terms with the spirits.The longer he pondered on the strange actions of Marufa the more he was persuaded that that wily colleague was acting upon sound information, and the tangle of his affairs made him so desperate that he decided to gamble upon that assumption: for magician Bakahenzie began to realize that Marufa had somehow scored a point and that now was approaching the crux which would determine whether[pg 217]he won back or lost for ever that which was the essence of life to him.Meanwhile the two puzzled plotters sat motionless and silent as if mutually agreeing that no question regarding each other’s late movements had better be asked.Accordingly to the depth of his superstition returned each witch-doctor. When they were come, without one word of explanation, Bakahenzie lifted his voice in a high falsetto, bidding the lay warriors to return to hear the voice of the elders. Reassured by this command which carried far on the still air, they began to emerge from hut and undergrowth. The first to arrive was MYalu, angry to find the whole assembly of wizards apparently sitting as if they had never moved, engaged in mystic incantations. MYalu had not fled far and from his cranny had seen the flight of Bakahenzie and the departure of Zalu Zako, but he dared not betray the doctors. He squatted sullenly and waited while the remainder of the warriors, of whom many had also seen the general stampede, filed to their places.When all were assembled Bakahenzie looked up from his spell and bade them to listen to what message the faculty—for obvious policy’s sake he included the whole of the ghosts—had received from ghostland by the three spirits, emphasising the vision of the magicians as proof positive of the terrible power of the craft. By reason of the sin committed by one who had broken the magic circle, as they all knew, said Bakahenzie, had this wrath of the Unmentionable One come upon them, permitting the incarnation of a demon, Eyes-in-the-hands, to work his will upon them and to[pg 218]make them slaves, as were their dogs the Wamungo; and so in the depth of their tribulation he, Bakahenzie, whose magic had been rendered impotent by the betrayal of the Bride of the Banana, had invoked the spirits of the three, as they all had witnessed.“Ough! Ough!”grunted the warriors in assent, although many of them were sorely puzzled to know why the doctors themselves had fled. Yabolo began to grow restless in his mind. To allow Bakahenzie to steal all the thunder and condemn the possible source of political power to the level of an evil demon was contrary to his policy, but he gave no physical sign save to become engrossed in his snuff box.Then Bakahenzie continued with a long harangue maintaining the necessity of the consummation of the Marriage of the Banana and announced that Zalu Zako had been taken by the spirit of his forefathers in order to prepare magic for the eating up of the terrible Eyes-in-the-hands; that as the voice of Tarum had said, Zalu Zako would return with“That which was slain on the hill—that which ye seek, that which is yours.”Although Bakahenzie was not sure to what these words had referred, yet he was sagacious enough to know that if Marufa had engineered that scene, then there must be some plan at the back of it, and in any case knew, as any white medicine man, that words in mystic phrasing are always soul-satisfying to the credulous who interpret them in terms of their subconscious desires. Then with political prudence he avoided any reference to uncomfortable topics, by dismissing the[pg 219]assembly before any pertinent questions could be asked.But when Bakahenzie had retired to his hut, presumably for the night, as Marufa had done before him, he girded himself with an amulet containing the gall of an enemy killed in battle and a short stabbing spear and sallied forth through a hole in the fence to brave the spirits of the forests in his need.In the village generally sleep was not entertained with enthusiasm by any save those women and slaves who knew not of the great happenings. In the hut of Yabolo were MYalu and Sakamata. From the old men MYalu received much consolation and advice, but no information as to why the wizards had bolted as fast as the laymen from ghosts invoked by their own magic. Sakamata confirmed authoritatively Yabolo’s suspicion that the phenomena had been produced through the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands, urging that they lose no time in going to him to make submission. Yabolo had already decided on that course, but MYalu refused to give a definite decision as to when he would go. He sat sullenly, saying no word, and eventually departed to his own hut where he dismissed his wives and continued to brood.The fear and rage aroused by the anointing of the warriors for the capture of Bakuma had been dissipated by the general panic produced by the ghosts. Afterwards MYalu had unconsciously hoped, because he so desired it, that the pursuit of the Bride would be abandoned; hence Bakahenzie’s renewal of the chase had angered and frightened him anew. As all the rest of them, he wondered and pondered upon the[pg 220]fate of Zalu Zako and Marufa. Marufa, as he well knew, had a black heart and two tongues; therefore was he suspicious of any manifestation with which the son of MTungo could be connected. Zalu Zako was wealthy; perhaps he had bribed Marufa to make magic in order to enable him to escape the doom of the king-godship and to flee to another country with Bakuma under the protection of Moonspirit. A lover’s jealousy is as powerful a driving force as ambition. In this case it drove even MYalu to defy the spirits of the night, for at the hour of the monkey he too stole away into the gloom.So it was that as the patterned roof of the forest was etched in the timid green of dawn peeped MYalu through the gate of the zareba of Moonspirit to discover the gaunt form of Bakahenzie squatted by the embers of a fire within a deserted compound. Bakahenzie’s quick eyes, on the alert for ghosts or any moving thing, saw him; so coldly MYalu advanced and sat beside him, grunting the formal greeting.MYalu noted the age of the spoor about the compound, the tent peg holes newly pulled. Now was he sure that Marufa and Zalu Zako were in league with Moonspirit. Wrath smouldered in his broad chest. At length spoke Bakahenzie casually:“The Bride of the Banana hath been taken away.”Bakahenzie paused as if weighing his words, and added:“But the feet of spirits are heavy on the land.”MYalu grunted. Bakahenzie had an idea and to MYalu was born another about the same instant. Said Bakahenzie, who wished to know the whereabouts of Marufa, Moonspirit and company:“If the Marriage[pg 221]of the Bride be not consummated then will the power of Eyes-in-the-hands prevail.”And after a long pause:“Who will seek the Bride?”MYalu remained silent, revolving his own notion in his mind. There remained with him still many traces of the awe and belief in the power and knowledge of Bakahenzie, and so his words threatening the triumph of Eyes-in-the-hands assured and strengthened his purpose; for he thought that if he could accomplish his plan then would Eyes-in-the-hands surely triumph as Bakahenzie predicted. Thus it was that he said:“O master of Wisdom, give unto me a mighty charm against the evil eye of traitors and will I and those that follow me seek the Bride and bring her so that which is bidden may be, that the children of the Banana may triumph.”MYalu rose. The two started on the return to the village. On the road Bakahenzie sought to flatter MYalu by pretending to take him into his confidence, adjuring him to secrecy and informing him that he would cause it to be known that MYalu, the son of MBusa, would bring back the Bride of the Banana. MYalu assented gravely. Just before reaching the village his keen eyes noticed a slight trail from the regular path. Broken, twisted and crushed leaves and strained branches indicated the recent passage of two or three people through the undergrowth.With difficulty, for the Wongolo are not forest people, he followed the spoor in a semi-circle towards the village and a footprint in the slime revealed the track of Zalu Zako or Marufa coming from the fires. MYalu[pg 222]grunted, but he said nothing to Bakahenzie or anybody else. That the vision had been caused by Moonspirit’s magic he had now no doubt, and his estimation of Moonspirit’s power increased to the point of terror; yet the smouldering jealousy and desire for Bakuma drove him dreadfully on.Before the sun was two spans high MYalu left the village with some two hundred of his followers anointed against magic and spirits. The track from Moonspirit’s camp was like an elephant’s path. Through the steamy heat they followed all day until they came out upon a river near to a village upon the border of the forest. The headman of the village was away with his chief; but women, children and slaves remained. Zalu Zako, in the company of a white man called Moonspirit, Marufa, the wizard, and a girl had arrived, had taken three canoes and had left up-stream within a hand’s breadth of a shadow. MYalu took all the canoes available and started in pursuit, leaving the rest of his men to follow as soon as they had procured other canoes from the nearest village.The river was small but deep and flowed swiftly between the vast curtains of the overhanging trees. When the dungeon of the forest was glooming to night they saw the gleam of a fire. Swiftly and silently they landed, surrounded the camp and uttering the war yell, rushed.But Moonspirit, Zalu Zako or Marufa they found not—only Bakuma with some dozen Wamungo carriers. Even the dismal squawk of a Baroto bird could not damp the relief and joy of MYalu. Next morning he despatched a secret messenger to Yabolo,[pg 223]making a rendezvous at a certain village and with a weeping Bakuma in his train set out to seek the rest of his fortune at the camp of Eyes-in-the-hands.[pg 224]Chapter 21In the village of Bakahenzie was discontent.The desertion of Sakamata, Yabolo, and three chiefs, had corroborated his suspicions of the unfrocked priest. That Sakamata had been preaching open sedition he had known, yet Bakahenzie was in the situation of many a president or prime minister; he had feared to put his own position in jeopardy by having the offender removed expeditiously. This treachery, which synchronised with the time when MYalu should have either returned or sent a messenger, implied another grave error. All the information he could gather was that MYalu had returned through the village by the river with the girl Bakuma, some prisoners and some of the white man’s equipment, on his way to the north-east; but no one apparently had seen Zalu Zako, Marufa nor the white man.Bakahenzie was at a loss to discover a plausible theory to account for MYalu having kidnapped Bakuma, who could not be of any political importance to him in going over to Eyes-in-the-hands, but would rather prejudice him seriously with the rest of the tribe for the sin of sacrilege in taking the Bride of the Banana. Shrewd judge of his compatriots though he was, the possibility of a love motive never occurred to Bakahenzie. A dominating passion in an individual for any particular female was rare in the native world; attractive wives or concubines were chosen and[pg 225]bought as one buys a goat or an ox. Bakuma, in her capacity as a sacrificial victim, was to him merely a good-looking girl, well selected by Marufa for the orgy of the Harvest Festival.Bakahenzie was distraught. He feared that he had not the authority to prevent further desertions; he did not know how far Sakamata’s propaganda had permeated; he could not guess what Zalu Zako, Marufa and the white man were going to do. As many a wise statesman before and after him he adopted a policy of“wait and see.”To provide an exciting distraction to keep his constituents amused and from thinking too much, he borrowed another political tactic of abusing some one vigorously. He called a meeting of the faculty and the warriors. There he solemnly denounced MYalu as a traitor and accused him of the crime of having abducted the Bride of the Banana, and consequently as the cause of the continuance of the misfortunes of the tribe.The move was successful, inasmuch that it afforded discussion and absorbed wrath for two whole days. Various chiefs proposed as many plans. But none was taken. Everybody was discontented and quarrelsome, as fearful of Eyes-in-the-hands as he was of his tribal god; many were impressed by the propaganda of Sakamata and Yabolo and the impunity with which Yabolo and Sakamata and company had quietly gone over to the enemy. Meanwhile Bakahenzie squatted in oracular silence, murmuring incantations that were prayers to the Unmentionable One interlarded with promises of the things he would accomplish for the said Deity, with solemnity and sincerity, for he felt that the result of Marufa’s[pg 226]intrigue with the magician Moonspirit would mature very shortly. What that would be he had no notion; only he strained every nerve to be alert when the crisis came to snatch from Marufa the advantage that wily old man had gained.On the third day two more chiefs followed in the wake of Yabolo. Bakahenzie made no comment, but he realised that before long, unless the unknown happened, he would be unable to retain any of his followers; realised that his one chance lay in procrastination. In his despair he began to contemplate an alliance with Marufa, even if he had to take a subordinate rôle—which would at any rate give him his only ally, time, to help checkmate his colleague.On the next day yet another chief and his men departed. Bakahenzie knew that they were like a herd of goats and that to stop the stampede he must adopt desperate measures. To quell the restlessness which murmured ominously throughout the camp he called another meeting as soon as the news had come of the last desertion. While the drum tapped out the summons Bakahenzie sat muttering his most impressive spells alone, endeavouring to discover a plausible excuse for some sort of excitement to distract the public mind.Slowly and sulkily the remainder of the brethren of the craft and those lay chiefs that were left, assembled within the circle of fires. Squatted in the prescribed order they eyed the figure of Bakahenzie in his red and green feathers mumbling incantations with doubt and disfavour. Indeed Bakahenzie seemed to them the symbol of the fallen god and a past régime; impotent and as mistaken as they were. In each and every[pg 227]one of them were suspicions and fears growing like weeds in tropic rain that he had made an error in not propitiating the new god in time, an impulse which required but a few hours’ growth to propel them out to the north-east after Sakamata and the others.As they watched in silence Bakahenzie was aware of the state of their minds towards him and grew the more perplexed in his search for an entertainment sufficiently stimulating to postpone the effects of their discontent. Sapiently he decided that any more messages from Tarum would be unwise in the present atmosphere. An idea of a revelation by divination to appoint a substitute for Bakuma as the Bride of the Banana and thus thrust forward a reason for a feast, as there was now no Yabolo to object, was abandoned because such an orgy was exclusive to the craft and would serve to exasperate the lay chiefs.His resource suggested a method. Suddenly he uttered a piercing yell and fell sideways as in the manner of one about to receive a communication from Tarum; but instead of the habitual seizure and cries and groans he lay rigid and silent. The divergence from the usual distracted the doubts of the audience.The fires flickered and danced to the insectile anthem as for twenty minutes or more he lay there as one dead. But at the first flutter of inattention among the doctors he sat up with closed eyes and called out in a loud voice:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Intuitively he had followed the precept of witch-doctors the world over of saying nothing at all in such a way that as many interpretations may be deduced as there are listeners. Each and every doctor and[pg 228]chief accordingly saw in these mystic words, as Marufa had done in the chance phrase of Moonspirit, that which he was most urged to do. Bakahenzie had accomplished his temporary object. Once more he cried out:“Let the children of the Banana be as the wild-cat at the fishpool that that which I have prophesied may come to pass!”The charging of the air with the familiar suggestion of magical doings gripped the audience and forced from them the conventional grunt of assent. Bakahenzie began again to mutter incantations. He had, he knew, averted the immediate danger for at least another sun, or perhaps two. Now was there only to wait and see. But Bakahenzie, as all great men, had the distinct vein of luck that follows the bold. Even as they squatted there, thoroughly worked up for the reception of a miracle, came a rustle among the leaves. Every head turned as one to see once more the mystic gleam of eyes in the gloom as the voice of Marufa cried:“Let there be a new fire!”From the cavern of the undergrowth emerged a white man bearing upon his shoulders a burden which, as he staggered into the gleam of the fires, was seen to be in form and in shape that of the burned idol. Then did Bakahenzie leap to his feet and in one stroke recover his lead and fetter his most dangerous enemy by proclaiming in a loud voice:“Behold! The bearer of the Burden of the World even as Bakahenzie hath prophesied!”And as Birnier set down the idol, from warrior and wizard, with the chief witch-doctor’s declaration,[pg 229]“That which is and must be, shall be,”echoing in their ears, came the deep grunt of acceptance of the new King-God of the lost Usakuma, the Incarnation of the Unmentionable One.[pg 230]Chapter 22In the humid heat of the forenoon the small hills of Fort Eitel, as zu Pfeiffer had renamed the Place of Kings, in the centre of the rased banana plantations, resembled scabby pimples upon a shaven patch of a green head seething with a verminous activity.Across the ford of the river came a puckered-faced Bakuma in the train of carriers and slaves of MYalu, who with Yabolo was coming to make obeisance to Eyes-in-the-hands, under the protection of Sakamata. To Bakuma there was no joy in the prospect of the sight of her old home; the bitter taste of the oleander was in her mouth as she trudged despondently with downcast head.But the breast of MYalu was filled with the song of the cricket. The terrors that had haunted him throughout the journey, of being overtaken by the magic of Bakahenzie or his emissaries, for the sacrilege of stealing the Bride of the Banana, began to evaporate at the approach to his village where now dwelt a new god more powerful than any, from whom he was about to gain protection, honours, and incidentally the ivory, which his anxious eyes pictured still within his hut. But when they broke from the outer banana plantation a mighty grunt was punched from the chests of Yabolo and MYalu at the vision of the half-completed street of large huts in the midst of desolation.“Eh!”quoth Sakamata,“is not the way of the[pg 231]mighty one more wonderful than he who is gone? Behold, he maketh a city like unto that of his people, a city of gods!”But MYalu had no admiration to spare, for to him the alleged beauty thereof was fogged by the fact that his own huts were but blackened ruins. The next moment MYalu, in spite of his native dignity, started as one of those uniformed keepers of the coughing monsters barked at them magic words.Sakamata replied. Yabolo and MYalu stiffened as they observed the cringe of the shoulders as he fumbled hastily within his loin-cloth and presented a piece of hard substance, the colour of blue clay with magic marks upon it. The demon grunted at them to proceed as if talking to a slave. Followed in file the rest of the caravan. As Bakuma passed the uniformed demon standing with the sword and gun with seven voices upon his shoulder, leered, and grunting in a strange tongue, stepped forward and spun her round by the shoulders. Bakuma cried out in terror and the carriers gasped fearfully. MYalu and Yabolo wheeled. MYalu’s facial scar twitched with rage as he raised his spear. But Sakamata clung to his arm as the soldier, grinning, raised his rifle in their direction. Bakuma ran on. The man laughed and turned his back to them, calling out something that the Wongolo could not understand.“Eh!”commented Sakamata indignantly,“the dog hath eaten poison grass! We will tell his words to Eyes-in-the-hands and he will be beaten until he stales.”MYalu, slightly mollified by this promise of revenge, strode on in silence, bewildered and resentful, wondering[pg 232]at these strange things in the camp of the new god. In a large open space resembling a public square, was a big unfinished hut: the guest house, Sakamata informed them, for those who sought an audience with the Invincible One. As they squatted on the floor waiting patiently until the sun was two hand’s-breadth above the hill for the appointed time, food and beer were brought to them by a Wamungo slave. Zu Pfeiffer was careful to foster the class distinction. Sakamata duly held forth upon the generosity of Eyes-in-the-hands, the wonder of his works and presence; but his words were received in unsympathetic silence, for the incident on the road had wounded the dignity of both chief and witch-doctor; raised dim fears and forebodings.At length a strange sound rang out on the still hot air. The signal, Sakamata explained, that Eyes-in-the-hands would receive his guests. Leaving Bakuma squatted in the lethargy which appeared to be habitual to her now, the three slowly mounted the sacred hill, marvelling greatly at the black triangle of the roof of the new temple, gazing with veiled suspicion at the gleaming brass fittings of the coughing monster in the great gate, and eyeing uneasily the double lines of uniformed devils, their bayonets flaming in the sun, who were drawn up outside the green palace of Eyes-in-the-hands.On each side of the tent door stood the two tallest men in the companies, coal-black forms which towered above the slighter build of the Wongolo, as rigid and as silent as trees. Through this terrifying guard walked Sakamata leading his two compatriots, already startled and impressed. Immediately within Sakamata[pg 233]fell upon his knees. Before them at the end of the tent sat zu Pfeiffer in the full dress of his regiment, plumed helmet, blazoned uniform and sword; and beside him, erect, the two sergeants Schultz and Ludwig in full parade uniform. Above them was a blaze of red, white and black and in the midst another splash of colour. But before this vision had penetrated their brains, had risen the voice of Sakamata bidding them to kneel likewise. Bewildered and awed they obeyed. Then came a voice saying:“Rise, approach, O chiefs!”Accordingly they arose and following Sakamata, advanced and squatted, their eyes dominated and held by those myriad gleams of magic“eyes”on hands and wrists. Then the interpreter, standing at attention, spoke this harangue tonelessly:“Greeting and welcome, children of the Banana! Eyes-in-the-hands who is known to the people where the sun rises as the Eater-of-Men, hath come from afar, the messenger of a greater than he, the Lord of the World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler, who eats up what he pleases, whose eyes see all things, whose sword slays all things, whose breath is the rain, whose voice is the thunder, whose teeth are the lightning, whose frown is the earthquake, whose smile is the sun, whose ear is the moon, whose eyes are the stars, whose body is the world! Look upon one soul of him which he hath sent that ye may worship and know him!”Zu Pfeiffer raised the jewelled hand above his shoulder as the man ceased. From out the medley of colours to the unaccustomed native eyes grew slowly the form and face of a white man as strangely clothed as[pg 234]Eyes-in-the-hands, covered with amulets and charms upon his breast. For four minutes by his wrist-watch, zu Pfeiffer sat silent and as frozen as his sergeants; then secretly he pulled a string.“Ehh!”grunted Yabolo and MYalu involuntarily, for before them appeared even, as Sakamata had related, the two souls of every person present. Stunned at such a manifestation of magic, they slowly turned from one to the other. As silently as they had appeared did the visions vanish.“O son of MYana, tell the tale of the possession of these thy friends and allies,”commanded zu Pfeiffer.Sakamata obeyed. But as he recited the approximate number of MYalu’s followers, the number of his oxen and goats, the number of fine tusks and small, the number of wives, concubines, and children, and slaves, the eyes of MYalu grew unquiet. Had he known that he would be required to render an account he would have computed at half the actual amount, whereas, in order to impress Sakamata with his importance, he had exaggerated to almost double what he had ever possessed. Then as Sakamata proceeded to perform the same service for Yabolo, relating, by arrangement with his relative, about one-third of his possession, MYalu observed in a corner a man making magic upon a table, a native clerk keeping tally; for zu Pfeiffer kept an exact record of every chief’s alleged possessions, as given by Sakamata and corroborated—by silent consent—by the said chief, so that when afterwards any discrepancy with the said list was discovered, the chief was proven a liar and subject to the punishment of further confiscation as such, and served[pg 235]as well to enhance the reputation for omniscience of Eyes-in-the-hands.At the end of the recitals of property, MYalu was told, not asked, to bow his head to the ground in token of allegiance. He obeyed in bewilderment which changed to rage when he was informed that the third of his property must be rendered to the august being before one sun’s delay; that he was to be ready at a summons to produce a given number of warriors; and that his small and only son was immediately to be placed in the“village of sons of chiefs”as guaranty of obedience and good behaviour.In a mist of fright, anger and awe, he sat motionless. Sakamata proceeded to relate the doings of Zalu Zako and those who had remained faithful to him. Zu Pfeiffer had fairly precise information from spies of the movements of the Wongolo since the return of Sergeant Ludwig, who had burned the village ofYagonyana, but shortage of men and the serious disadvantage of traversing and fighting in the forest had prevented him from sending another punitive expedition. Also had he heard of a white man who had passed through the country. Sakamata, native-like, eager to placate, asserted that he had actually seen the white man who was called Moonspirit, and from the same motive, ever wishing to flatter, announced positively that he had no magic at all, was dark and small and a trader, the only kind of white man other than the military at Ingonya of whom Sakamata had ever seen.Zu Pfeiffer stroked his left moustache and reflected. He had at first thought that the man might possibly be Saunders, a trader who was in his pay, but now[pg 236]decided that he was probably some new trader or hunter from the Tanganyika district. He instructed Sakamata that he was to send a messenger to this white man and command him to come to him immediately. Then waving the imperious jewelled hand, he dismissed them. But noticing the sullen countenance of MYalu, he drew Sergeant Schultz’s attention, ordering him to mark the man and if the tax was not forthcoming quickly, to have him given fifty lashes. Silently Schultz saluted.So it was that MYalu, sulky, smouldering with anger against Sakamata, for he felt that he had been betrayed into a trap, followed Yabolo out into the sun. Not only had he not gotten back his ivory left in the village, but he was ordered to pay much more than he actually possessed.But when he had descended the hill to the guest house he came to the weeping and wailing of his people, who informed him that Bakuma had been taken away by three of the demon keepers of the coughing monsters.[pg 237]Chapter 23Upon the site of Birnier’s old camp in the forest was a high palisade built from tree to tree. Inside of the gate beside a small conical hut burned the sacred fires tended by Mungongo; before a green canvas tent stood the new idol, which differed from the original in having a better perspective and proportion of features and body, yet lacked the master touch of expression given by the subconscious fingers of the native artist.Against the wall were stacked uniform cases to make a table, upon which were a hand-mirror and toilet articles; above a photograph of Lucille was pinned upon the canvas. Upon the camp bed, screened by a mosquito net, lay the new King-God, Moonspirit, the magic book in his hands.“Kings, princes, monarchs, and magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate; you shall find them to be most cumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony, suspicion, jealousy: that as he (Valer. i. 7, c. 3) saith of a crown, if they but knew the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to pick it up. Quem mihi regem dabis (saith Chrysostom) non curis plenum?”The Incarnation of the Unmentionable One smiled,[pg 238]put down the book and glanced across at the photograph.“And yet they still talk of the advantages of a monarchy!”he commented.The original plan concocted with Marufa and Zalu Zako in the forest when making the new idol was that Birnier should become chief witch-doctor and Zalu Zako be anointed King-God, with Marufa as the power behind the throne. Although Zalu Zako desired to escape the yoke, his protest was enfeebled by the sense of fatality, and had been utterly squashed by the promise of Marufa, at Birnier’s suggestion, that the sex tabu would be lifted from the godhead. But the negligence of Marufa in allowing the white man to carry the idol, arranged with the idea of investing Moonspirit with greater prestige according to the prophecies already announced by Tarum, had permitted Bakahenzie to make hiscoup d’état—thrust the godhood upon the white and recover his own position.Birnier in truth had little option of refusal as well as little time for reflection upon a situation the possibility of which had not occurred to him; for Marufa was completely out-manœuvred by his rival, and the certainty of escape from his doom offered by Bakahenzie revived the image of Bakuma in Zalu Zako and bought his partisanship instantly.With Napoleonic swiftness to grasp the advantages gained Bakahenzie drove the lay chiefs from the sacred presence, which he surrounded by a bodyguard of the awed brethren; expelled the household from Zalu Zako’s compound and hustled the incarnation, bearing the new god, into holy isolation.Bewildered by the rapidity of the moves Marufa and[pg 239]Zalu Zako were separated from Moonspirit. In the general confusion, not knowing exactly what was happening, Birnier complied with what he believed to be the regulations regarding gods. But when he perceived that he was about to be left alone he clutched Mungongo and refused to part with him. Bakahenzie, compelled to avoid any delay before consolidating his position, instantly shut up Mungongo in the same web by declaring him the Keeper of the Sacred Fires and so disposed of any agent outside the tabu or craft. As soon as this was accomplished and a dance to celebrate the lighting of the new fires commanded, the wily chief witch-doctor approached Marufa who, realizing that he was hopelessly outwitted, was only too eager to make the best terms possible.Birnier had known that the King-God was never allowed to be seen by the populace except at the Harvest Festival, yet he accepted his isolation philosophically, lured by the expectation of the secrets he was about to learn, although his curiosity led sometimes to the vision of a god peeping through a fence.While the drums summoning the council of chiefs and wizards were muttering through the moist air, to Birnier, squatting on the floor of Zalu Zako’s hut with Mungongo beside him, came Bakahenzie to instruct him in his rôle. To whet his curiosity still more he learned that from the moment of appearance in the gate of the sacred enclosure for the ceremony of the lighting of the royal fires, every movement of body and speech was regulated as rigidly as the etiquette of the Court of Spain. At a signal from the chief witch-doctor was the King-God to leave the hut and[pg 240]appear from behind the idol; with arms in a certain position was he to approach and squat at an exact spot. To Mungongo was given charge of the two fire sticks, newly consecrated.As the chief witch-doctor retired the chanting began. Interested to know what was about to happen Birnier obeyed in the spirit of a game. So in the warm darkness they squatted, these two, listening to the chanting, cries and groans to the accompaniment of the drums and lyres and the perpetual twitter of the forest. At last came a violent howl from Bakahenzie which Mungongo declared was their cue.Around the circle of the fence to avoid the eyes of the audience ran Mungongo to the temporary Place of Fires. Feeling as if he were once more playing in an amateur dramatic club, Birnier stalked with portentous dignity from the hut, past the idol, and took his seat upon the enchanted place. Without the palisade and within another squatted in correct order the lines of wizards and chiefs, Zalu Zako retaining, rather by prestige of his former holiness and indecision as to what his status really was, his position at their head.Upon his haunches before a large calabash upon a fire Bakahenzie finished the mumbling of incantations over the sacred ingredients, and leaping to his feet began a wild dance to the throb of the drums and the diaphragmatic chorus of the assembled cult.… Swifter and swifter spun the chief witch-doctor. The glow of the fire tinted his whirling bronze body with flecks of green and red as he gyrated in and out of the shadows. Suddenly he threw a handful of herbs upon the fire which was immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke,[pg 241]into which with a screech Bakahenzie disappeared.… The drums and grunting ceased. Then in the swirling column of blue appeared his figure holding something in his hands. To the wild outburst of drums and groans he sprang towards the King-God elect and anointed his breast and shoulders with a pungent compound, and leaped away into another dance, while Mungongo plied the two fire sticks. When the spark was blown upon the dry tinder and the first flame flickered Bakahenzie dropped flat before the gate as from the wizards went up the great shout:“The fire is lighted!”And from the mass of warriors and folk confined to their huts behind the outer palisade the phrase was echoed in a mighty wail, startling monkeys and parrots into as wild an acclamation of the new King-God.Bakahenzie, rising to his haunches, began a chant in honour of the new King, a chant based upon the song composed by Marufa and repeated on the phonograph, but developing even stranger merits and attributes. Until the first glimmer of dawn through the forest roof squatted Birnier, as motionless as etiquette demanded, listening to the strange psalm of praise with avid interest and observation.Suddenly, amid a furious clamour of the drums, Bakahenzie, Marufa, and one other of the inner cult of the five who had not deserted, led the body of the doctors in a rush into the sacred enclosure, seized upon the startled King and hustled him to the base of the idol where, yielding to the whispered instructions of Marufa, he took the idol once more upon his shoulders and guided by Bakahenzie, walked out of the gate and[pg 242]through the village to the yelling and screaming of the wizards, some of whom, according to precedent, ran about screeching and rattling hut doors, pulling thatches and howling ferociously in search of any sacrilegious peeper.As he tramped on with his load Marufa yelled in his ear that he must carry the Burden of the World no matter what happened to him, for if he let the idol fall then would he be killed upon the spot to save the sky from falling too. Wondering what this meant and where he was going, the cut of thongs upon his legs surprised him into a halt. Immediately a terrific cry went up:“The Bearer of the World stumbles! Aie! Aieeeeeeeee!”Despite the furious flogging the intellectual interest in this strange conception distracted his mind from the pain of the blows; also his bare back was protected by the idol and his leggings and trousers deadened the lashes. A moment more he hesitated. But he was unarmed and had voluntarily taken on the adventure, so he would see it through. As he broke into a shuffling run, for the idol fortunately was lighter than the previous one and he was a more powerful man than Kawa Kendi, another howl of joy and relief echoed throughout the village.So along the old forest trail he travelled as fast as he could, assisted slightly by wizards’ hands as he crawled over clumps of undergrowth. The intensity of the whipping had decreased as soon as they were out of the village but throughout an occasional vicious whack testified to the presence of some devout doctor. Thus it was that the white King-God came[pg 243]to his throne and sat in state upon his bed to smile at the reflections of a melancholic philosopher.So far so good, reflected Birnier, although the enforced isolation and strict curtailment of his actions had already begun to be irksome; yet to attain so difficult a goal sacrifice must be borne, he argued philosophically.The royal larder, he noticed with thankfulness, was kept well stocked. Every day appeared a slave who left just within the entrance chickens, bananas, milk and fresh water, and sometimes a young goat. All such provisions which he had happened to take into the forest with him and so had escaped MYalu’s marauding hands had been placed in his tent with other cases, as containing no man knew what mighty magic.For three days he had been left utterly alone. Sounds of drums and chanting from the distant village had reached them on the still air, but what they were doing he could not discover. No layman was allowed to come near the sacred enclosure. While he strolled, taking a smoke and constitutional around and around his“pen,”as he put it, several of the lesser wizards appeared and stood at a distance from the gate to stare at him. When addressed they made no reply. On the second occasion he began to be irritated, but he kept his temper and went to cover in his tent, muttering:“Why the devil don’t they bring me some buns?”On the fourth day patience began to fray. He had no notion of knowing how long this quarantine was going to last. He was on the point of going to find out, but Mungongo pleaded so earnestly that they would[pg 244]instantly be killed if they did, that he desisted. So Birnier retired to the tent to seek consolation from a record of Lucille’s voice.Birnier attempted to cross-examine Mungongo to find out what was the object of this isolation, but beyond the fact that strangers were never permitted to behold the King-God, even lay natives, without special magic, which was only made once a year at the Harvest Festival, lest evil be made upon his person and so endanger the world, Mungongo did not know; merely, that so it was. What power over the head witch-doctor the King really had, Mungongo had no notion. The King-God was the most powerful magician known, asserted Mungongo. Did he not make rain and bear the world upon his shoulders? When Birnier unwisely denied this feat, Mungongo looked pained and began a remark, but balked before the name Moonspirit to ask the name of Birnier’s father.At the mental image conjured up of a handsome white-haired planter and ex-owner of many slaves Birnier smiled, but he knew the tabu regarding the ban upon the names of the dead and that he, presumably, having ascended into the divine plane, was therefore classed with the departed. He recollected that the old man, who belonged to a cadet branch of a royalist family, had been called“le Marquis,”of which he was excessively proud. Birnier translated into the dialect the nearest possible rendition of the title: The Lord-of-many-Lands.“The son of the Lord-of-many-Lands,”continued Mungongo satisfied,“doth but tickle the feet of his slave.”[pg 245]On the fifth afternoon, while the god was engrossed in a cure for love madness which, he reflected, might be of service to zu Pfeiffer, came a voice without crying:“The son of Maliko would speak with the Lord, the Bearer of the World!”Birnier glanced across at the photograph of Lucille.“Some job I’ve gotten!”he remarked as he rose. In the gate sat Bakahenzie. Birnier was conscious of an idiotic impulse to rush forward to greet him as an old and long lost friend. But remembering the dignity of his godhood he remained in the tent doorway, bidding the chief witch-doctor to advance.Birnier retired backwards and sat beneath the net, for the mosquitoes were as thick as they are on the bayou Barataria. Mungongo, possibly to prove his erudition, sat upon one of the cases containing much magic, at which Bakahenzie from the floor in the doorway looked askance. Birnier was keenly anxious to know what was happening regarding the fortunes of the tribe, hoping that with the restoration of the Unmentionable One that they would return to their allegiance. According to etiquette he remained silent, waiting for Bakahenzie to open the conversation, until, realizing that he was a god and that the chief witch-doctor was doing the same thing, reflected swiftly and desiring to make an impression, repeated Bakahenzie’s mystic phrase which he had overheard whilst hiding in the jungle previous to the dénouement:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Bakahenzie grunted his acknowledgment of the profundity of the statement.“He who would trap the leopard must needs dig the pit!”Another uncompromising silence[pg 246]urged Birnier to force the pace a little:“O son of Maliko, what say the omens and the signs of the evil one, Eyes-in-the-hands?”“When shall the Unmentionable One return unto the Place of Kings?”demanded Bakahenzie.“The Holy One returneth not unto the place appointed until that which defileth is removed,”retorted Birnier.Bakahenzie took snuff and appeared to consider. Then he glanced around the tent as if in search of something.“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”Mungongo looked expectant and stood up. But Birnier ignored him.“The fruit doth not fall until it be ripe. He would know what hath been done by his slaves for the baiting of the pit for the unclean one.”“Would the magician that cometh from the sea make pretence that an elephant is a mouse?”inquired Bakahenzie.For a moment Birnier was perplexed; then he realized that the chief witch-doctor inferred that he, as King-God, mocked his priest by pretending that he did not know all things.“Doth the chief witch-doctor make magic for the curing of the scratch of a girl of the hut thatch?”he retorted.“Lest thy heart wither like unto a fallen leaf, know then that the soul of Tarum hath made words for the return of the Unmentionable One to the Place of Kings, but that his children may not be as the dogs of the village who are driven, he wills that you prepare the pit for the trapping of the defiled[pg 247]one.”Bakahenzie’s eyes stolidly regarded the tent wall.“O son of Maliko, hast thou sent forth the sound of the drum throughout the land that the children may know of the Coming?”“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”demanded Bakahenzie insistently.Birnier sat motionless in the native manner. Irritated by this childish tenacity to apparently a fixed idea, he yielded to an impulse which was almost a weakness.“O son of Maliko,”said he,“thou art a mighty magician!”Bakahenzie grunted modest assent.“Even as I am.”Another grunt.“Give unto me thine ears and thine eyes that I may reveal unto thee that which is known to the mightiest of magicians.”Commanding the delighted Mungongo to bring out the phonograph, he continued:“Thou hast heard of the mighty doings of the unclean devourer of men, Eyes-in-the-hands. I have magic the like of which man hath never seen. Is it not so?”“Ough!”“Yet will the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands make thee to see that which is, is not!”“That which is, is not,”repeated Bakahenzie, whose professional mind was pleased with the phrase.In the desire to explain rationally the mystery of a phonograph and despairing of any attempt to describe the laws of vibration, Birnier sought for a likely simile. Encouraged by the almost imperceptible fact that he had awakened Bakahenzie’s visible interest, he plunged on:“Within this piece of tree is there nought but many pieces of iron such as thy spears are made of. Thou knowest that there are[pg 248]places by the river and in the rocks where a man may speak and that his words will be returned to him. Is it not so?”“They are white words, O son of the Lord-of-many-Lands!”returned Bakahenzie.“For the spirits of the river and the rocks mock the voices of those who have not eaten of the Sacred Banana”(the uninitiated).“But they mock thy voice as well,”protested Birnier.“Are there not goats in ghostland who bleat at the wizard and the peasant?”“By the Lord!”murmured Birnier, although the mask of his face did not change.“Ghostland is full of goats if one were to credit some of the most modern witch-doctors! Still demonstration …“Thou seest, fellow magician,”he continued,“the pod of the soul of mighty Tarum, his ear like unto an elephant, his colour like unto a lion!”Birnier got out of the mosquito net and knelt beside the phonograph in front of Bakahenzie. Taking off the trumpet and cylinder carrier he opened up the inside, revealing the clockwork motor, wound it up, stopped it and released it.“Thine eyes see that my words are white. These things are but as pieces of metal of thy spears. Is it not so?”“Ough!”Birnier closed the machine, adjusted the trumpet and put on the cylinder of Marufa’s record.“Aie! Aiee! I am the spirit of Kintu!Aie! Aiee! I am he who first was!”chanted the machine.Birnier, noticing that the desired astonishment was[pg 249]registered by an almost impalpable start, stopped the machine and changed the record.“Rejoice, O my children, for he that is bidden shall come!Rejoice, O ye warriors, for he that shall lead you shall come!Rejoice, O ye wizards, for he that is greater than ye shall come!Rejoice, O ye women, for he that fertilizes shall come!”Birnier allowed the machine to run through the chant until the end:“He shall come forth bearing that which ye seek!Hear ye, my people, and give voice to my word!”The machine whirred and stopped. Birnier turned to Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that my words are white?”“Ough!”assented Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that at the will of my finger upon that which is made but of spear-heads that the voice of Tarum hath spoken, the voice which is but the mocking voice of Marufa amid the trees of the forest?”“Ough!”“Dost thou not know that he who knows the ways of rocks, who can make pieces of spear into that which will say and do that which he wills, is a greater magician than he who must needs go unto the rocks to be mocked?”“Thou art the greatest of magicians, O son of the[pg 250]Lord-of-many-Lands,”responded Bakahenzie in a burst of eloquence.“For thou hast entrapped the spirits of rocks and spears to do thy bidding.”“O God!”sighed the professor,“what is the use of language?”

[pg 214]Chapter 20The actual sight of spirits from ghostland, of which hitherto they had only heard, had been too much for the nerves of the tribe already overstrung by the overthrow of the idol and the magic and slaughter of zu Pfeiffer; the warriors had fled like scared poultry to the jungle, up trees, in the undergrowth and in their huts, where they cowered among their women and slaves, reading awful omens and portents in every sound of the forest.The phenomenon had been just as startling and awe-inspiring to Bakahenzie as it had been to his most ignorant dupe. His belief in ghostland was implicit, but now he had seen what, professionally, he was supposed to see and converse with on familiar terms. As Zalu Zako disappeared he continued to listen intently. Above the slight rustle of the bushes as the Son-of-the-Snake moved through the undergrowth rose a feminine laugh. Bakahenzie’s liver was squeezed by that sardonic chuckle; for, as is well known, female demons are much more malignant than the male. For the space of a chant he remained crouching there, curiosity and the dread of revealing his terror to his fellows tugging at his feet and fear of the demons clutching him around the waist. Save the anthem of the forest no further sound of the ghosts was audible.[pg 215]Cautiously rose Bakahenzie, wriggled out of his nest and with as much dignity as maybe, strode back to the fire. From the village came a slight whimpering. With satisfaction Bakahenzie noted that no one else was in sight. For another space he sat with unquiet eyes and ears upon the forest. Then gathering courage as nothing happened, he pondered upon what attitude he should assume.Yabolo stalked from round a hut and squatting calmly beside Bakahenzie, nonchalantly proceeded to tap out snuff and offered some to Bakahenzie, who grunted acceptance and sniffed with even greater indifference. Motionless they continued to sit and silently. Bakahenzie wondered whether Yabolo knew that he, too, had fled, and Yabolo, who did know, waited for the first move on Bakahenzie’s part to retort.Yabolo, indeed, who had been as panic-stricken as Bakahenzie, was more suspicious in view of the accounts he had heard of the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. Who knew but this vision might not be another manifestation of Eyes-in-the-hands? And more slowly a similar idea began to occur to Bakahenzie, save that he had in mind the incident of Moonspirit’s magic in the face of his bravest warriors. The calmer he became the more was he inclined to accept this explanation of the apparitions; such was infinitely more comforting to him than the conception that they had been in truth spirits from ghostland. As the doubt grew the wisdom of propitiating this powerful Moonspirit became apparent; yet was present the dread of loosing what remained of his autocratic power. The problem now was to enlist the white[pg 216]and discover some means of controlling him and his magic.But to both men the vital question was, what had become of Zalu Zako? There were two alternatives: if the visions had been genuine ghosts, then undoubtedly Zalu Zako was dead; but if they had been produced through the magic of a white man, then, Bakahenzie argued, Zalu Zako and Marufa must be in league with Moonspirit, and Yabolo opined that Zalu Zako had been captured by Eyes-in-the-hands. To the latter the effect was to strengthen the determination to go over to Eyes-in-the-hands. If the first possibility was correct the greater need had he of strong magic if real ghosts were taking to walking abroad visibly, and the other case merely proved beyond question the invincible magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. But to Bakahenzie the reaction was slightly different, for his elemental reason took him a little farther than Yabolo by pointing out that in all his wide experience never had spirits taken demons’ shape, so that the suspicion that they had been due to Moonspirit became more plausible, and was supported by the recollection of Marufa’s unexplained absence and sudden reappearance on familiar terms with the spirits.The longer he pondered on the strange actions of Marufa the more he was persuaded that that wily colleague was acting upon sound information, and the tangle of his affairs made him so desperate that he decided to gamble upon that assumption: for magician Bakahenzie began to realize that Marufa had somehow scored a point and that now was approaching the crux which would determine whether[pg 217]he won back or lost for ever that which was the essence of life to him.Meanwhile the two puzzled plotters sat motionless and silent as if mutually agreeing that no question regarding each other’s late movements had better be asked.Accordingly to the depth of his superstition returned each witch-doctor. When they were come, without one word of explanation, Bakahenzie lifted his voice in a high falsetto, bidding the lay warriors to return to hear the voice of the elders. Reassured by this command which carried far on the still air, they began to emerge from hut and undergrowth. The first to arrive was MYalu, angry to find the whole assembly of wizards apparently sitting as if they had never moved, engaged in mystic incantations. MYalu had not fled far and from his cranny had seen the flight of Bakahenzie and the departure of Zalu Zako, but he dared not betray the doctors. He squatted sullenly and waited while the remainder of the warriors, of whom many had also seen the general stampede, filed to their places.When all were assembled Bakahenzie looked up from his spell and bade them to listen to what message the faculty—for obvious policy’s sake he included the whole of the ghosts—had received from ghostland by the three spirits, emphasising the vision of the magicians as proof positive of the terrible power of the craft. By reason of the sin committed by one who had broken the magic circle, as they all knew, said Bakahenzie, had this wrath of the Unmentionable One come upon them, permitting the incarnation of a demon, Eyes-in-the-hands, to work his will upon them and to[pg 218]make them slaves, as were their dogs the Wamungo; and so in the depth of their tribulation he, Bakahenzie, whose magic had been rendered impotent by the betrayal of the Bride of the Banana, had invoked the spirits of the three, as they all had witnessed.“Ough! Ough!”grunted the warriors in assent, although many of them were sorely puzzled to know why the doctors themselves had fled. Yabolo began to grow restless in his mind. To allow Bakahenzie to steal all the thunder and condemn the possible source of political power to the level of an evil demon was contrary to his policy, but he gave no physical sign save to become engrossed in his snuff box.Then Bakahenzie continued with a long harangue maintaining the necessity of the consummation of the Marriage of the Banana and announced that Zalu Zako had been taken by the spirit of his forefathers in order to prepare magic for the eating up of the terrible Eyes-in-the-hands; that as the voice of Tarum had said, Zalu Zako would return with“That which was slain on the hill—that which ye seek, that which is yours.”Although Bakahenzie was not sure to what these words had referred, yet he was sagacious enough to know that if Marufa had engineered that scene, then there must be some plan at the back of it, and in any case knew, as any white medicine man, that words in mystic phrasing are always soul-satisfying to the credulous who interpret them in terms of their subconscious desires. Then with political prudence he avoided any reference to uncomfortable topics, by dismissing the[pg 219]assembly before any pertinent questions could be asked.But when Bakahenzie had retired to his hut, presumably for the night, as Marufa had done before him, he girded himself with an amulet containing the gall of an enemy killed in battle and a short stabbing spear and sallied forth through a hole in the fence to brave the spirits of the forests in his need.In the village generally sleep was not entertained with enthusiasm by any save those women and slaves who knew not of the great happenings. In the hut of Yabolo were MYalu and Sakamata. From the old men MYalu received much consolation and advice, but no information as to why the wizards had bolted as fast as the laymen from ghosts invoked by their own magic. Sakamata confirmed authoritatively Yabolo’s suspicion that the phenomena had been produced through the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands, urging that they lose no time in going to him to make submission. Yabolo had already decided on that course, but MYalu refused to give a definite decision as to when he would go. He sat sullenly, saying no word, and eventually departed to his own hut where he dismissed his wives and continued to brood.The fear and rage aroused by the anointing of the warriors for the capture of Bakuma had been dissipated by the general panic produced by the ghosts. Afterwards MYalu had unconsciously hoped, because he so desired it, that the pursuit of the Bride would be abandoned; hence Bakahenzie’s renewal of the chase had angered and frightened him anew. As all the rest of them, he wondered and pondered upon the[pg 220]fate of Zalu Zako and Marufa. Marufa, as he well knew, had a black heart and two tongues; therefore was he suspicious of any manifestation with which the son of MTungo could be connected. Zalu Zako was wealthy; perhaps he had bribed Marufa to make magic in order to enable him to escape the doom of the king-godship and to flee to another country with Bakuma under the protection of Moonspirit. A lover’s jealousy is as powerful a driving force as ambition. In this case it drove even MYalu to defy the spirits of the night, for at the hour of the monkey he too stole away into the gloom.So it was that as the patterned roof of the forest was etched in the timid green of dawn peeped MYalu through the gate of the zareba of Moonspirit to discover the gaunt form of Bakahenzie squatted by the embers of a fire within a deserted compound. Bakahenzie’s quick eyes, on the alert for ghosts or any moving thing, saw him; so coldly MYalu advanced and sat beside him, grunting the formal greeting.MYalu noted the age of the spoor about the compound, the tent peg holes newly pulled. Now was he sure that Marufa and Zalu Zako were in league with Moonspirit. Wrath smouldered in his broad chest. At length spoke Bakahenzie casually:“The Bride of the Banana hath been taken away.”Bakahenzie paused as if weighing his words, and added:“But the feet of spirits are heavy on the land.”MYalu grunted. Bakahenzie had an idea and to MYalu was born another about the same instant. Said Bakahenzie, who wished to know the whereabouts of Marufa, Moonspirit and company:“If the Marriage[pg 221]of the Bride be not consummated then will the power of Eyes-in-the-hands prevail.”And after a long pause:“Who will seek the Bride?”MYalu remained silent, revolving his own notion in his mind. There remained with him still many traces of the awe and belief in the power and knowledge of Bakahenzie, and so his words threatening the triumph of Eyes-in-the-hands assured and strengthened his purpose; for he thought that if he could accomplish his plan then would Eyes-in-the-hands surely triumph as Bakahenzie predicted. Thus it was that he said:“O master of Wisdom, give unto me a mighty charm against the evil eye of traitors and will I and those that follow me seek the Bride and bring her so that which is bidden may be, that the children of the Banana may triumph.”MYalu rose. The two started on the return to the village. On the road Bakahenzie sought to flatter MYalu by pretending to take him into his confidence, adjuring him to secrecy and informing him that he would cause it to be known that MYalu, the son of MBusa, would bring back the Bride of the Banana. MYalu assented gravely. Just before reaching the village his keen eyes noticed a slight trail from the regular path. Broken, twisted and crushed leaves and strained branches indicated the recent passage of two or three people through the undergrowth.With difficulty, for the Wongolo are not forest people, he followed the spoor in a semi-circle towards the village and a footprint in the slime revealed the track of Zalu Zako or Marufa coming from the fires. MYalu[pg 222]grunted, but he said nothing to Bakahenzie or anybody else. That the vision had been caused by Moonspirit’s magic he had now no doubt, and his estimation of Moonspirit’s power increased to the point of terror; yet the smouldering jealousy and desire for Bakuma drove him dreadfully on.Before the sun was two spans high MYalu left the village with some two hundred of his followers anointed against magic and spirits. The track from Moonspirit’s camp was like an elephant’s path. Through the steamy heat they followed all day until they came out upon a river near to a village upon the border of the forest. The headman of the village was away with his chief; but women, children and slaves remained. Zalu Zako, in the company of a white man called Moonspirit, Marufa, the wizard, and a girl had arrived, had taken three canoes and had left up-stream within a hand’s breadth of a shadow. MYalu took all the canoes available and started in pursuit, leaving the rest of his men to follow as soon as they had procured other canoes from the nearest village.The river was small but deep and flowed swiftly between the vast curtains of the overhanging trees. When the dungeon of the forest was glooming to night they saw the gleam of a fire. Swiftly and silently they landed, surrounded the camp and uttering the war yell, rushed.But Moonspirit, Zalu Zako or Marufa they found not—only Bakuma with some dozen Wamungo carriers. Even the dismal squawk of a Baroto bird could not damp the relief and joy of MYalu. Next morning he despatched a secret messenger to Yabolo,[pg 223]making a rendezvous at a certain village and with a weeping Bakuma in his train set out to seek the rest of his fortune at the camp of Eyes-in-the-hands.

The actual sight of spirits from ghostland, of which hitherto they had only heard, had been too much for the nerves of the tribe already overstrung by the overthrow of the idol and the magic and slaughter of zu Pfeiffer; the warriors had fled like scared poultry to the jungle, up trees, in the undergrowth and in their huts, where they cowered among their women and slaves, reading awful omens and portents in every sound of the forest.

The phenomenon had been just as startling and awe-inspiring to Bakahenzie as it had been to his most ignorant dupe. His belief in ghostland was implicit, but now he had seen what, professionally, he was supposed to see and converse with on familiar terms. As Zalu Zako disappeared he continued to listen intently. Above the slight rustle of the bushes as the Son-of-the-Snake moved through the undergrowth rose a feminine laugh. Bakahenzie’s liver was squeezed by that sardonic chuckle; for, as is well known, female demons are much more malignant than the male. For the space of a chant he remained crouching there, curiosity and the dread of revealing his terror to his fellows tugging at his feet and fear of the demons clutching him around the waist. Save the anthem of the forest no further sound of the ghosts was audible.

Cautiously rose Bakahenzie, wriggled out of his nest and with as much dignity as maybe, strode back to the fire. From the village came a slight whimpering. With satisfaction Bakahenzie noted that no one else was in sight. For another space he sat with unquiet eyes and ears upon the forest. Then gathering courage as nothing happened, he pondered upon what attitude he should assume.

Yabolo stalked from round a hut and squatting calmly beside Bakahenzie, nonchalantly proceeded to tap out snuff and offered some to Bakahenzie, who grunted acceptance and sniffed with even greater indifference. Motionless they continued to sit and silently. Bakahenzie wondered whether Yabolo knew that he, too, had fled, and Yabolo, who did know, waited for the first move on Bakahenzie’s part to retort.

Yabolo, indeed, who had been as panic-stricken as Bakahenzie, was more suspicious in view of the accounts he had heard of the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. Who knew but this vision might not be another manifestation of Eyes-in-the-hands? And more slowly a similar idea began to occur to Bakahenzie, save that he had in mind the incident of Moonspirit’s magic in the face of his bravest warriors. The calmer he became the more was he inclined to accept this explanation of the apparitions; such was infinitely more comforting to him than the conception that they had been in truth spirits from ghostland. As the doubt grew the wisdom of propitiating this powerful Moonspirit became apparent; yet was present the dread of loosing what remained of his autocratic power. The problem now was to enlist the white[pg 216]and discover some means of controlling him and his magic.

But to both men the vital question was, what had become of Zalu Zako? There were two alternatives: if the visions had been genuine ghosts, then undoubtedly Zalu Zako was dead; but if they had been produced through the magic of a white man, then, Bakahenzie argued, Zalu Zako and Marufa must be in league with Moonspirit, and Yabolo opined that Zalu Zako had been captured by Eyes-in-the-hands. To the latter the effect was to strengthen the determination to go over to Eyes-in-the-hands. If the first possibility was correct the greater need had he of strong magic if real ghosts were taking to walking abroad visibly, and the other case merely proved beyond question the invincible magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. But to Bakahenzie the reaction was slightly different, for his elemental reason took him a little farther than Yabolo by pointing out that in all his wide experience never had spirits taken demons’ shape, so that the suspicion that they had been due to Moonspirit became more plausible, and was supported by the recollection of Marufa’s unexplained absence and sudden reappearance on familiar terms with the spirits.

The longer he pondered on the strange actions of Marufa the more he was persuaded that that wily colleague was acting upon sound information, and the tangle of his affairs made him so desperate that he decided to gamble upon that assumption: for magician Bakahenzie began to realize that Marufa had somehow scored a point and that now was approaching the crux which would determine whether[pg 217]he won back or lost for ever that which was the essence of life to him.

Meanwhile the two puzzled plotters sat motionless and silent as if mutually agreeing that no question regarding each other’s late movements had better be asked.

Accordingly to the depth of his superstition returned each witch-doctor. When they were come, without one word of explanation, Bakahenzie lifted his voice in a high falsetto, bidding the lay warriors to return to hear the voice of the elders. Reassured by this command which carried far on the still air, they began to emerge from hut and undergrowth. The first to arrive was MYalu, angry to find the whole assembly of wizards apparently sitting as if they had never moved, engaged in mystic incantations. MYalu had not fled far and from his cranny had seen the flight of Bakahenzie and the departure of Zalu Zako, but he dared not betray the doctors. He squatted sullenly and waited while the remainder of the warriors, of whom many had also seen the general stampede, filed to their places.

When all were assembled Bakahenzie looked up from his spell and bade them to listen to what message the faculty—for obvious policy’s sake he included the whole of the ghosts—had received from ghostland by the three spirits, emphasising the vision of the magicians as proof positive of the terrible power of the craft. By reason of the sin committed by one who had broken the magic circle, as they all knew, said Bakahenzie, had this wrath of the Unmentionable One come upon them, permitting the incarnation of a demon, Eyes-in-the-hands, to work his will upon them and to[pg 218]make them slaves, as were their dogs the Wamungo; and so in the depth of their tribulation he, Bakahenzie, whose magic had been rendered impotent by the betrayal of the Bride of the Banana, had invoked the spirits of the three, as they all had witnessed.

“Ough! Ough!”grunted the warriors in assent, although many of them were sorely puzzled to know why the doctors themselves had fled. Yabolo began to grow restless in his mind. To allow Bakahenzie to steal all the thunder and condemn the possible source of political power to the level of an evil demon was contrary to his policy, but he gave no physical sign save to become engrossed in his snuff box.

Then Bakahenzie continued with a long harangue maintaining the necessity of the consummation of the Marriage of the Banana and announced that Zalu Zako had been taken by the spirit of his forefathers in order to prepare magic for the eating up of the terrible Eyes-in-the-hands; that as the voice of Tarum had said, Zalu Zako would return with“That which was slain on the hill—that which ye seek, that which is yours.”Although Bakahenzie was not sure to what these words had referred, yet he was sagacious enough to know that if Marufa had engineered that scene, then there must be some plan at the back of it, and in any case knew, as any white medicine man, that words in mystic phrasing are always soul-satisfying to the credulous who interpret them in terms of their subconscious desires. Then with political prudence he avoided any reference to uncomfortable topics, by dismissing the[pg 219]assembly before any pertinent questions could be asked.

But when Bakahenzie had retired to his hut, presumably for the night, as Marufa had done before him, he girded himself with an amulet containing the gall of an enemy killed in battle and a short stabbing spear and sallied forth through a hole in the fence to brave the spirits of the forests in his need.

In the village generally sleep was not entertained with enthusiasm by any save those women and slaves who knew not of the great happenings. In the hut of Yabolo were MYalu and Sakamata. From the old men MYalu received much consolation and advice, but no information as to why the wizards had bolted as fast as the laymen from ghosts invoked by their own magic. Sakamata confirmed authoritatively Yabolo’s suspicion that the phenomena had been produced through the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands, urging that they lose no time in going to him to make submission. Yabolo had already decided on that course, but MYalu refused to give a definite decision as to when he would go. He sat sullenly, saying no word, and eventually departed to his own hut where he dismissed his wives and continued to brood.

The fear and rage aroused by the anointing of the warriors for the capture of Bakuma had been dissipated by the general panic produced by the ghosts. Afterwards MYalu had unconsciously hoped, because he so desired it, that the pursuit of the Bride would be abandoned; hence Bakahenzie’s renewal of the chase had angered and frightened him anew. As all the rest of them, he wondered and pondered upon the[pg 220]fate of Zalu Zako and Marufa. Marufa, as he well knew, had a black heart and two tongues; therefore was he suspicious of any manifestation with which the son of MTungo could be connected. Zalu Zako was wealthy; perhaps he had bribed Marufa to make magic in order to enable him to escape the doom of the king-godship and to flee to another country with Bakuma under the protection of Moonspirit. A lover’s jealousy is as powerful a driving force as ambition. In this case it drove even MYalu to defy the spirits of the night, for at the hour of the monkey he too stole away into the gloom.

So it was that as the patterned roof of the forest was etched in the timid green of dawn peeped MYalu through the gate of the zareba of Moonspirit to discover the gaunt form of Bakahenzie squatted by the embers of a fire within a deserted compound. Bakahenzie’s quick eyes, on the alert for ghosts or any moving thing, saw him; so coldly MYalu advanced and sat beside him, grunting the formal greeting.

MYalu noted the age of the spoor about the compound, the tent peg holes newly pulled. Now was he sure that Marufa and Zalu Zako were in league with Moonspirit. Wrath smouldered in his broad chest. At length spoke Bakahenzie casually:

“The Bride of the Banana hath been taken away.”Bakahenzie paused as if weighing his words, and added:“But the feet of spirits are heavy on the land.”MYalu grunted. Bakahenzie had an idea and to MYalu was born another about the same instant. Said Bakahenzie, who wished to know the whereabouts of Marufa, Moonspirit and company:“If the Marriage[pg 221]of the Bride be not consummated then will the power of Eyes-in-the-hands prevail.”And after a long pause:“Who will seek the Bride?”

MYalu remained silent, revolving his own notion in his mind. There remained with him still many traces of the awe and belief in the power and knowledge of Bakahenzie, and so his words threatening the triumph of Eyes-in-the-hands assured and strengthened his purpose; for he thought that if he could accomplish his plan then would Eyes-in-the-hands surely triumph as Bakahenzie predicted. Thus it was that he said:

“O master of Wisdom, give unto me a mighty charm against the evil eye of traitors and will I and those that follow me seek the Bride and bring her so that which is bidden may be, that the children of the Banana may triumph.”

MYalu rose. The two started on the return to the village. On the road Bakahenzie sought to flatter MYalu by pretending to take him into his confidence, adjuring him to secrecy and informing him that he would cause it to be known that MYalu, the son of MBusa, would bring back the Bride of the Banana. MYalu assented gravely. Just before reaching the village his keen eyes noticed a slight trail from the regular path. Broken, twisted and crushed leaves and strained branches indicated the recent passage of two or three people through the undergrowth.

With difficulty, for the Wongolo are not forest people, he followed the spoor in a semi-circle towards the village and a footprint in the slime revealed the track of Zalu Zako or Marufa coming from the fires. MYalu[pg 222]grunted, but he said nothing to Bakahenzie or anybody else. That the vision had been caused by Moonspirit’s magic he had now no doubt, and his estimation of Moonspirit’s power increased to the point of terror; yet the smouldering jealousy and desire for Bakuma drove him dreadfully on.

Before the sun was two spans high MYalu left the village with some two hundred of his followers anointed against magic and spirits. The track from Moonspirit’s camp was like an elephant’s path. Through the steamy heat they followed all day until they came out upon a river near to a village upon the border of the forest. The headman of the village was away with his chief; but women, children and slaves remained. Zalu Zako, in the company of a white man called Moonspirit, Marufa, the wizard, and a girl had arrived, had taken three canoes and had left up-stream within a hand’s breadth of a shadow. MYalu took all the canoes available and started in pursuit, leaving the rest of his men to follow as soon as they had procured other canoes from the nearest village.

The river was small but deep and flowed swiftly between the vast curtains of the overhanging trees. When the dungeon of the forest was glooming to night they saw the gleam of a fire. Swiftly and silently they landed, surrounded the camp and uttering the war yell, rushed.

But Moonspirit, Zalu Zako or Marufa they found not—only Bakuma with some dozen Wamungo carriers. Even the dismal squawk of a Baroto bird could not damp the relief and joy of MYalu. Next morning he despatched a secret messenger to Yabolo,[pg 223]making a rendezvous at a certain village and with a weeping Bakuma in his train set out to seek the rest of his fortune at the camp of Eyes-in-the-hands.

[pg 224]Chapter 21In the village of Bakahenzie was discontent.The desertion of Sakamata, Yabolo, and three chiefs, had corroborated his suspicions of the unfrocked priest. That Sakamata had been preaching open sedition he had known, yet Bakahenzie was in the situation of many a president or prime minister; he had feared to put his own position in jeopardy by having the offender removed expeditiously. This treachery, which synchronised with the time when MYalu should have either returned or sent a messenger, implied another grave error. All the information he could gather was that MYalu had returned through the village by the river with the girl Bakuma, some prisoners and some of the white man’s equipment, on his way to the north-east; but no one apparently had seen Zalu Zako, Marufa nor the white man.Bakahenzie was at a loss to discover a plausible theory to account for MYalu having kidnapped Bakuma, who could not be of any political importance to him in going over to Eyes-in-the-hands, but would rather prejudice him seriously with the rest of the tribe for the sin of sacrilege in taking the Bride of the Banana. Shrewd judge of his compatriots though he was, the possibility of a love motive never occurred to Bakahenzie. A dominating passion in an individual for any particular female was rare in the native world; attractive wives or concubines were chosen and[pg 225]bought as one buys a goat or an ox. Bakuma, in her capacity as a sacrificial victim, was to him merely a good-looking girl, well selected by Marufa for the orgy of the Harvest Festival.Bakahenzie was distraught. He feared that he had not the authority to prevent further desertions; he did not know how far Sakamata’s propaganda had permeated; he could not guess what Zalu Zako, Marufa and the white man were going to do. As many a wise statesman before and after him he adopted a policy of“wait and see.”To provide an exciting distraction to keep his constituents amused and from thinking too much, he borrowed another political tactic of abusing some one vigorously. He called a meeting of the faculty and the warriors. There he solemnly denounced MYalu as a traitor and accused him of the crime of having abducted the Bride of the Banana, and consequently as the cause of the continuance of the misfortunes of the tribe.The move was successful, inasmuch that it afforded discussion and absorbed wrath for two whole days. Various chiefs proposed as many plans. But none was taken. Everybody was discontented and quarrelsome, as fearful of Eyes-in-the-hands as he was of his tribal god; many were impressed by the propaganda of Sakamata and Yabolo and the impunity with which Yabolo and Sakamata and company had quietly gone over to the enemy. Meanwhile Bakahenzie squatted in oracular silence, murmuring incantations that were prayers to the Unmentionable One interlarded with promises of the things he would accomplish for the said Deity, with solemnity and sincerity, for he felt that the result of Marufa’s[pg 226]intrigue with the magician Moonspirit would mature very shortly. What that would be he had no notion; only he strained every nerve to be alert when the crisis came to snatch from Marufa the advantage that wily old man had gained.On the third day two more chiefs followed in the wake of Yabolo. Bakahenzie made no comment, but he realised that before long, unless the unknown happened, he would be unable to retain any of his followers; realised that his one chance lay in procrastination. In his despair he began to contemplate an alliance with Marufa, even if he had to take a subordinate rôle—which would at any rate give him his only ally, time, to help checkmate his colleague.On the next day yet another chief and his men departed. Bakahenzie knew that they were like a herd of goats and that to stop the stampede he must adopt desperate measures. To quell the restlessness which murmured ominously throughout the camp he called another meeting as soon as the news had come of the last desertion. While the drum tapped out the summons Bakahenzie sat muttering his most impressive spells alone, endeavouring to discover a plausible excuse for some sort of excitement to distract the public mind.Slowly and sulkily the remainder of the brethren of the craft and those lay chiefs that were left, assembled within the circle of fires. Squatted in the prescribed order they eyed the figure of Bakahenzie in his red and green feathers mumbling incantations with doubt and disfavour. Indeed Bakahenzie seemed to them the symbol of the fallen god and a past régime; impotent and as mistaken as they were. In each and every[pg 227]one of them were suspicions and fears growing like weeds in tropic rain that he had made an error in not propitiating the new god in time, an impulse which required but a few hours’ growth to propel them out to the north-east after Sakamata and the others.As they watched in silence Bakahenzie was aware of the state of their minds towards him and grew the more perplexed in his search for an entertainment sufficiently stimulating to postpone the effects of their discontent. Sapiently he decided that any more messages from Tarum would be unwise in the present atmosphere. An idea of a revelation by divination to appoint a substitute for Bakuma as the Bride of the Banana and thus thrust forward a reason for a feast, as there was now no Yabolo to object, was abandoned because such an orgy was exclusive to the craft and would serve to exasperate the lay chiefs.His resource suggested a method. Suddenly he uttered a piercing yell and fell sideways as in the manner of one about to receive a communication from Tarum; but instead of the habitual seizure and cries and groans he lay rigid and silent. The divergence from the usual distracted the doubts of the audience.The fires flickered and danced to the insectile anthem as for twenty minutes or more he lay there as one dead. But at the first flutter of inattention among the doctors he sat up with closed eyes and called out in a loud voice:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Intuitively he had followed the precept of witch-doctors the world over of saying nothing at all in such a way that as many interpretations may be deduced as there are listeners. Each and every doctor and[pg 228]chief accordingly saw in these mystic words, as Marufa had done in the chance phrase of Moonspirit, that which he was most urged to do. Bakahenzie had accomplished his temporary object. Once more he cried out:“Let the children of the Banana be as the wild-cat at the fishpool that that which I have prophesied may come to pass!”The charging of the air with the familiar suggestion of magical doings gripped the audience and forced from them the conventional grunt of assent. Bakahenzie began again to mutter incantations. He had, he knew, averted the immediate danger for at least another sun, or perhaps two. Now was there only to wait and see. But Bakahenzie, as all great men, had the distinct vein of luck that follows the bold. Even as they squatted there, thoroughly worked up for the reception of a miracle, came a rustle among the leaves. Every head turned as one to see once more the mystic gleam of eyes in the gloom as the voice of Marufa cried:“Let there be a new fire!”From the cavern of the undergrowth emerged a white man bearing upon his shoulders a burden which, as he staggered into the gleam of the fires, was seen to be in form and in shape that of the burned idol. Then did Bakahenzie leap to his feet and in one stroke recover his lead and fetter his most dangerous enemy by proclaiming in a loud voice:“Behold! The bearer of the Burden of the World even as Bakahenzie hath prophesied!”And as Birnier set down the idol, from warrior and wizard, with the chief witch-doctor’s declaration,[pg 229]“That which is and must be, shall be,”echoing in their ears, came the deep grunt of acceptance of the new King-God of the lost Usakuma, the Incarnation of the Unmentionable One.

In the village of Bakahenzie was discontent.

The desertion of Sakamata, Yabolo, and three chiefs, had corroborated his suspicions of the unfrocked priest. That Sakamata had been preaching open sedition he had known, yet Bakahenzie was in the situation of many a president or prime minister; he had feared to put his own position in jeopardy by having the offender removed expeditiously. This treachery, which synchronised with the time when MYalu should have either returned or sent a messenger, implied another grave error. All the information he could gather was that MYalu had returned through the village by the river with the girl Bakuma, some prisoners and some of the white man’s equipment, on his way to the north-east; but no one apparently had seen Zalu Zako, Marufa nor the white man.

Bakahenzie was at a loss to discover a plausible theory to account for MYalu having kidnapped Bakuma, who could not be of any political importance to him in going over to Eyes-in-the-hands, but would rather prejudice him seriously with the rest of the tribe for the sin of sacrilege in taking the Bride of the Banana. Shrewd judge of his compatriots though he was, the possibility of a love motive never occurred to Bakahenzie. A dominating passion in an individual for any particular female was rare in the native world; attractive wives or concubines were chosen and[pg 225]bought as one buys a goat or an ox. Bakuma, in her capacity as a sacrificial victim, was to him merely a good-looking girl, well selected by Marufa for the orgy of the Harvest Festival.

Bakahenzie was distraught. He feared that he had not the authority to prevent further desertions; he did not know how far Sakamata’s propaganda had permeated; he could not guess what Zalu Zako, Marufa and the white man were going to do. As many a wise statesman before and after him he adopted a policy of“wait and see.”To provide an exciting distraction to keep his constituents amused and from thinking too much, he borrowed another political tactic of abusing some one vigorously. He called a meeting of the faculty and the warriors. There he solemnly denounced MYalu as a traitor and accused him of the crime of having abducted the Bride of the Banana, and consequently as the cause of the continuance of the misfortunes of the tribe.

The move was successful, inasmuch that it afforded discussion and absorbed wrath for two whole days. Various chiefs proposed as many plans. But none was taken. Everybody was discontented and quarrelsome, as fearful of Eyes-in-the-hands as he was of his tribal god; many were impressed by the propaganda of Sakamata and Yabolo and the impunity with which Yabolo and Sakamata and company had quietly gone over to the enemy. Meanwhile Bakahenzie squatted in oracular silence, murmuring incantations that were prayers to the Unmentionable One interlarded with promises of the things he would accomplish for the said Deity, with solemnity and sincerity, for he felt that the result of Marufa’s[pg 226]intrigue with the magician Moonspirit would mature very shortly. What that would be he had no notion; only he strained every nerve to be alert when the crisis came to snatch from Marufa the advantage that wily old man had gained.

On the third day two more chiefs followed in the wake of Yabolo. Bakahenzie made no comment, but he realised that before long, unless the unknown happened, he would be unable to retain any of his followers; realised that his one chance lay in procrastination. In his despair he began to contemplate an alliance with Marufa, even if he had to take a subordinate rôle—which would at any rate give him his only ally, time, to help checkmate his colleague.

On the next day yet another chief and his men departed. Bakahenzie knew that they were like a herd of goats and that to stop the stampede he must adopt desperate measures. To quell the restlessness which murmured ominously throughout the camp he called another meeting as soon as the news had come of the last desertion. While the drum tapped out the summons Bakahenzie sat muttering his most impressive spells alone, endeavouring to discover a plausible excuse for some sort of excitement to distract the public mind.

Slowly and sulkily the remainder of the brethren of the craft and those lay chiefs that were left, assembled within the circle of fires. Squatted in the prescribed order they eyed the figure of Bakahenzie in his red and green feathers mumbling incantations with doubt and disfavour. Indeed Bakahenzie seemed to them the symbol of the fallen god and a past régime; impotent and as mistaken as they were. In each and every[pg 227]one of them were suspicions and fears growing like weeds in tropic rain that he had made an error in not propitiating the new god in time, an impulse which required but a few hours’ growth to propel them out to the north-east after Sakamata and the others.

As they watched in silence Bakahenzie was aware of the state of their minds towards him and grew the more perplexed in his search for an entertainment sufficiently stimulating to postpone the effects of their discontent. Sapiently he decided that any more messages from Tarum would be unwise in the present atmosphere. An idea of a revelation by divination to appoint a substitute for Bakuma as the Bride of the Banana and thus thrust forward a reason for a feast, as there was now no Yabolo to object, was abandoned because such an orgy was exclusive to the craft and would serve to exasperate the lay chiefs.

His resource suggested a method. Suddenly he uttered a piercing yell and fell sideways as in the manner of one about to receive a communication from Tarum; but instead of the habitual seizure and cries and groans he lay rigid and silent. The divergence from the usual distracted the doubts of the audience.

The fires flickered and danced to the insectile anthem as for twenty minutes or more he lay there as one dead. But at the first flutter of inattention among the doctors he sat up with closed eyes and called out in a loud voice:

“That which is and must be, shall be!”

Intuitively he had followed the precept of witch-doctors the world over of saying nothing at all in such a way that as many interpretations may be deduced as there are listeners. Each and every doctor and[pg 228]chief accordingly saw in these mystic words, as Marufa had done in the chance phrase of Moonspirit, that which he was most urged to do. Bakahenzie had accomplished his temporary object. Once more he cried out:

“Let the children of the Banana be as the wild-cat at the fishpool that that which I have prophesied may come to pass!”

The charging of the air with the familiar suggestion of magical doings gripped the audience and forced from them the conventional grunt of assent. Bakahenzie began again to mutter incantations. He had, he knew, averted the immediate danger for at least another sun, or perhaps two. Now was there only to wait and see. But Bakahenzie, as all great men, had the distinct vein of luck that follows the bold. Even as they squatted there, thoroughly worked up for the reception of a miracle, came a rustle among the leaves. Every head turned as one to see once more the mystic gleam of eyes in the gloom as the voice of Marufa cried:

“Let there be a new fire!”

From the cavern of the undergrowth emerged a white man bearing upon his shoulders a burden which, as he staggered into the gleam of the fires, was seen to be in form and in shape that of the burned idol. Then did Bakahenzie leap to his feet and in one stroke recover his lead and fetter his most dangerous enemy by proclaiming in a loud voice:

“Behold! The bearer of the Burden of the World even as Bakahenzie hath prophesied!”

And as Birnier set down the idol, from warrior and wizard, with the chief witch-doctor’s declaration,[pg 229]“That which is and must be, shall be,”echoing in their ears, came the deep grunt of acceptance of the new King-God of the lost Usakuma, the Incarnation of the Unmentionable One.

[pg 230]Chapter 22In the humid heat of the forenoon the small hills of Fort Eitel, as zu Pfeiffer had renamed the Place of Kings, in the centre of the rased banana plantations, resembled scabby pimples upon a shaven patch of a green head seething with a verminous activity.Across the ford of the river came a puckered-faced Bakuma in the train of carriers and slaves of MYalu, who with Yabolo was coming to make obeisance to Eyes-in-the-hands, under the protection of Sakamata. To Bakuma there was no joy in the prospect of the sight of her old home; the bitter taste of the oleander was in her mouth as she trudged despondently with downcast head.But the breast of MYalu was filled with the song of the cricket. The terrors that had haunted him throughout the journey, of being overtaken by the magic of Bakahenzie or his emissaries, for the sacrilege of stealing the Bride of the Banana, began to evaporate at the approach to his village where now dwelt a new god more powerful than any, from whom he was about to gain protection, honours, and incidentally the ivory, which his anxious eyes pictured still within his hut. But when they broke from the outer banana plantation a mighty grunt was punched from the chests of Yabolo and MYalu at the vision of the half-completed street of large huts in the midst of desolation.“Eh!”quoth Sakamata,“is not the way of the[pg 231]mighty one more wonderful than he who is gone? Behold, he maketh a city like unto that of his people, a city of gods!”But MYalu had no admiration to spare, for to him the alleged beauty thereof was fogged by the fact that his own huts were but blackened ruins. The next moment MYalu, in spite of his native dignity, started as one of those uniformed keepers of the coughing monsters barked at them magic words.Sakamata replied. Yabolo and MYalu stiffened as they observed the cringe of the shoulders as he fumbled hastily within his loin-cloth and presented a piece of hard substance, the colour of blue clay with magic marks upon it. The demon grunted at them to proceed as if talking to a slave. Followed in file the rest of the caravan. As Bakuma passed the uniformed demon standing with the sword and gun with seven voices upon his shoulder, leered, and grunting in a strange tongue, stepped forward and spun her round by the shoulders. Bakuma cried out in terror and the carriers gasped fearfully. MYalu and Yabolo wheeled. MYalu’s facial scar twitched with rage as he raised his spear. But Sakamata clung to his arm as the soldier, grinning, raised his rifle in their direction. Bakuma ran on. The man laughed and turned his back to them, calling out something that the Wongolo could not understand.“Eh!”commented Sakamata indignantly,“the dog hath eaten poison grass! We will tell his words to Eyes-in-the-hands and he will be beaten until he stales.”MYalu, slightly mollified by this promise of revenge, strode on in silence, bewildered and resentful, wondering[pg 232]at these strange things in the camp of the new god. In a large open space resembling a public square, was a big unfinished hut: the guest house, Sakamata informed them, for those who sought an audience with the Invincible One. As they squatted on the floor waiting patiently until the sun was two hand’s-breadth above the hill for the appointed time, food and beer were brought to them by a Wamungo slave. Zu Pfeiffer was careful to foster the class distinction. Sakamata duly held forth upon the generosity of Eyes-in-the-hands, the wonder of his works and presence; but his words were received in unsympathetic silence, for the incident on the road had wounded the dignity of both chief and witch-doctor; raised dim fears and forebodings.At length a strange sound rang out on the still hot air. The signal, Sakamata explained, that Eyes-in-the-hands would receive his guests. Leaving Bakuma squatted in the lethargy which appeared to be habitual to her now, the three slowly mounted the sacred hill, marvelling greatly at the black triangle of the roof of the new temple, gazing with veiled suspicion at the gleaming brass fittings of the coughing monster in the great gate, and eyeing uneasily the double lines of uniformed devils, their bayonets flaming in the sun, who were drawn up outside the green palace of Eyes-in-the-hands.On each side of the tent door stood the two tallest men in the companies, coal-black forms which towered above the slighter build of the Wongolo, as rigid and as silent as trees. Through this terrifying guard walked Sakamata leading his two compatriots, already startled and impressed. Immediately within Sakamata[pg 233]fell upon his knees. Before them at the end of the tent sat zu Pfeiffer in the full dress of his regiment, plumed helmet, blazoned uniform and sword; and beside him, erect, the two sergeants Schultz and Ludwig in full parade uniform. Above them was a blaze of red, white and black and in the midst another splash of colour. But before this vision had penetrated their brains, had risen the voice of Sakamata bidding them to kneel likewise. Bewildered and awed they obeyed. Then came a voice saying:“Rise, approach, O chiefs!”Accordingly they arose and following Sakamata, advanced and squatted, their eyes dominated and held by those myriad gleams of magic“eyes”on hands and wrists. Then the interpreter, standing at attention, spoke this harangue tonelessly:“Greeting and welcome, children of the Banana! Eyes-in-the-hands who is known to the people where the sun rises as the Eater-of-Men, hath come from afar, the messenger of a greater than he, the Lord of the World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler, who eats up what he pleases, whose eyes see all things, whose sword slays all things, whose breath is the rain, whose voice is the thunder, whose teeth are the lightning, whose frown is the earthquake, whose smile is the sun, whose ear is the moon, whose eyes are the stars, whose body is the world! Look upon one soul of him which he hath sent that ye may worship and know him!”Zu Pfeiffer raised the jewelled hand above his shoulder as the man ceased. From out the medley of colours to the unaccustomed native eyes grew slowly the form and face of a white man as strangely clothed as[pg 234]Eyes-in-the-hands, covered with amulets and charms upon his breast. For four minutes by his wrist-watch, zu Pfeiffer sat silent and as frozen as his sergeants; then secretly he pulled a string.“Ehh!”grunted Yabolo and MYalu involuntarily, for before them appeared even, as Sakamata had related, the two souls of every person present. Stunned at such a manifestation of magic, they slowly turned from one to the other. As silently as they had appeared did the visions vanish.“O son of MYana, tell the tale of the possession of these thy friends and allies,”commanded zu Pfeiffer.Sakamata obeyed. But as he recited the approximate number of MYalu’s followers, the number of his oxen and goats, the number of fine tusks and small, the number of wives, concubines, and children, and slaves, the eyes of MYalu grew unquiet. Had he known that he would be required to render an account he would have computed at half the actual amount, whereas, in order to impress Sakamata with his importance, he had exaggerated to almost double what he had ever possessed. Then as Sakamata proceeded to perform the same service for Yabolo, relating, by arrangement with his relative, about one-third of his possession, MYalu observed in a corner a man making magic upon a table, a native clerk keeping tally; for zu Pfeiffer kept an exact record of every chief’s alleged possessions, as given by Sakamata and corroborated—by silent consent—by the said chief, so that when afterwards any discrepancy with the said list was discovered, the chief was proven a liar and subject to the punishment of further confiscation as such, and served[pg 235]as well to enhance the reputation for omniscience of Eyes-in-the-hands.At the end of the recitals of property, MYalu was told, not asked, to bow his head to the ground in token of allegiance. He obeyed in bewilderment which changed to rage when he was informed that the third of his property must be rendered to the august being before one sun’s delay; that he was to be ready at a summons to produce a given number of warriors; and that his small and only son was immediately to be placed in the“village of sons of chiefs”as guaranty of obedience and good behaviour.In a mist of fright, anger and awe, he sat motionless. Sakamata proceeded to relate the doings of Zalu Zako and those who had remained faithful to him. Zu Pfeiffer had fairly precise information from spies of the movements of the Wongolo since the return of Sergeant Ludwig, who had burned the village ofYagonyana, but shortage of men and the serious disadvantage of traversing and fighting in the forest had prevented him from sending another punitive expedition. Also had he heard of a white man who had passed through the country. Sakamata, native-like, eager to placate, asserted that he had actually seen the white man who was called Moonspirit, and from the same motive, ever wishing to flatter, announced positively that he had no magic at all, was dark and small and a trader, the only kind of white man other than the military at Ingonya of whom Sakamata had ever seen.Zu Pfeiffer stroked his left moustache and reflected. He had at first thought that the man might possibly be Saunders, a trader who was in his pay, but now[pg 236]decided that he was probably some new trader or hunter from the Tanganyika district. He instructed Sakamata that he was to send a messenger to this white man and command him to come to him immediately. Then waving the imperious jewelled hand, he dismissed them. But noticing the sullen countenance of MYalu, he drew Sergeant Schultz’s attention, ordering him to mark the man and if the tax was not forthcoming quickly, to have him given fifty lashes. Silently Schultz saluted.So it was that MYalu, sulky, smouldering with anger against Sakamata, for he felt that he had been betrayed into a trap, followed Yabolo out into the sun. Not only had he not gotten back his ivory left in the village, but he was ordered to pay much more than he actually possessed.But when he had descended the hill to the guest house he came to the weeping and wailing of his people, who informed him that Bakuma had been taken away by three of the demon keepers of the coughing monsters.

In the humid heat of the forenoon the small hills of Fort Eitel, as zu Pfeiffer had renamed the Place of Kings, in the centre of the rased banana plantations, resembled scabby pimples upon a shaven patch of a green head seething with a verminous activity.

Across the ford of the river came a puckered-faced Bakuma in the train of carriers and slaves of MYalu, who with Yabolo was coming to make obeisance to Eyes-in-the-hands, under the protection of Sakamata. To Bakuma there was no joy in the prospect of the sight of her old home; the bitter taste of the oleander was in her mouth as she trudged despondently with downcast head.

But the breast of MYalu was filled with the song of the cricket. The terrors that had haunted him throughout the journey, of being overtaken by the magic of Bakahenzie or his emissaries, for the sacrilege of stealing the Bride of the Banana, began to evaporate at the approach to his village where now dwelt a new god more powerful than any, from whom he was about to gain protection, honours, and incidentally the ivory, which his anxious eyes pictured still within his hut. But when they broke from the outer banana plantation a mighty grunt was punched from the chests of Yabolo and MYalu at the vision of the half-completed street of large huts in the midst of desolation.

“Eh!”quoth Sakamata,“is not the way of the[pg 231]mighty one more wonderful than he who is gone? Behold, he maketh a city like unto that of his people, a city of gods!”

But MYalu had no admiration to spare, for to him the alleged beauty thereof was fogged by the fact that his own huts were but blackened ruins. The next moment MYalu, in spite of his native dignity, started as one of those uniformed keepers of the coughing monsters barked at them magic words.

Sakamata replied. Yabolo and MYalu stiffened as they observed the cringe of the shoulders as he fumbled hastily within his loin-cloth and presented a piece of hard substance, the colour of blue clay with magic marks upon it. The demon grunted at them to proceed as if talking to a slave. Followed in file the rest of the caravan. As Bakuma passed the uniformed demon standing with the sword and gun with seven voices upon his shoulder, leered, and grunting in a strange tongue, stepped forward and spun her round by the shoulders. Bakuma cried out in terror and the carriers gasped fearfully. MYalu and Yabolo wheeled. MYalu’s facial scar twitched with rage as he raised his spear. But Sakamata clung to his arm as the soldier, grinning, raised his rifle in their direction. Bakuma ran on. The man laughed and turned his back to them, calling out something that the Wongolo could not understand.

“Eh!”commented Sakamata indignantly,“the dog hath eaten poison grass! We will tell his words to Eyes-in-the-hands and he will be beaten until he stales.”

MYalu, slightly mollified by this promise of revenge, strode on in silence, bewildered and resentful, wondering[pg 232]at these strange things in the camp of the new god. In a large open space resembling a public square, was a big unfinished hut: the guest house, Sakamata informed them, for those who sought an audience with the Invincible One. As they squatted on the floor waiting patiently until the sun was two hand’s-breadth above the hill for the appointed time, food and beer were brought to them by a Wamungo slave. Zu Pfeiffer was careful to foster the class distinction. Sakamata duly held forth upon the generosity of Eyes-in-the-hands, the wonder of his works and presence; but his words were received in unsympathetic silence, for the incident on the road had wounded the dignity of both chief and witch-doctor; raised dim fears and forebodings.

At length a strange sound rang out on the still hot air. The signal, Sakamata explained, that Eyes-in-the-hands would receive his guests. Leaving Bakuma squatted in the lethargy which appeared to be habitual to her now, the three slowly mounted the sacred hill, marvelling greatly at the black triangle of the roof of the new temple, gazing with veiled suspicion at the gleaming brass fittings of the coughing monster in the great gate, and eyeing uneasily the double lines of uniformed devils, their bayonets flaming in the sun, who were drawn up outside the green palace of Eyes-in-the-hands.

On each side of the tent door stood the two tallest men in the companies, coal-black forms which towered above the slighter build of the Wongolo, as rigid and as silent as trees. Through this terrifying guard walked Sakamata leading his two compatriots, already startled and impressed. Immediately within Sakamata[pg 233]fell upon his knees. Before them at the end of the tent sat zu Pfeiffer in the full dress of his regiment, plumed helmet, blazoned uniform and sword; and beside him, erect, the two sergeants Schultz and Ludwig in full parade uniform. Above them was a blaze of red, white and black and in the midst another splash of colour. But before this vision had penetrated their brains, had risen the voice of Sakamata bidding them to kneel likewise. Bewildered and awed they obeyed. Then came a voice saying:

“Rise, approach, O chiefs!”

Accordingly they arose and following Sakamata, advanced and squatted, their eyes dominated and held by those myriad gleams of magic“eyes”on hands and wrists. Then the interpreter, standing at attention, spoke this harangue tonelessly:

“Greeting and welcome, children of the Banana! Eyes-in-the-hands who is known to the people where the sun rises as the Eater-of-Men, hath come from afar, the messenger of a greater than he, the Lord of the World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler, who eats up what he pleases, whose eyes see all things, whose sword slays all things, whose breath is the rain, whose voice is the thunder, whose teeth are the lightning, whose frown is the earthquake, whose smile is the sun, whose ear is the moon, whose eyes are the stars, whose body is the world! Look upon one soul of him which he hath sent that ye may worship and know him!”

Zu Pfeiffer raised the jewelled hand above his shoulder as the man ceased. From out the medley of colours to the unaccustomed native eyes grew slowly the form and face of a white man as strangely clothed as[pg 234]Eyes-in-the-hands, covered with amulets and charms upon his breast. For four minutes by his wrist-watch, zu Pfeiffer sat silent and as frozen as his sergeants; then secretly he pulled a string.

“Ehh!”grunted Yabolo and MYalu involuntarily, for before them appeared even, as Sakamata had related, the two souls of every person present. Stunned at such a manifestation of magic, they slowly turned from one to the other. As silently as they had appeared did the visions vanish.

“O son of MYana, tell the tale of the possession of these thy friends and allies,”commanded zu Pfeiffer.

Sakamata obeyed. But as he recited the approximate number of MYalu’s followers, the number of his oxen and goats, the number of fine tusks and small, the number of wives, concubines, and children, and slaves, the eyes of MYalu grew unquiet. Had he known that he would be required to render an account he would have computed at half the actual amount, whereas, in order to impress Sakamata with his importance, he had exaggerated to almost double what he had ever possessed. Then as Sakamata proceeded to perform the same service for Yabolo, relating, by arrangement with his relative, about one-third of his possession, MYalu observed in a corner a man making magic upon a table, a native clerk keeping tally; for zu Pfeiffer kept an exact record of every chief’s alleged possessions, as given by Sakamata and corroborated—by silent consent—by the said chief, so that when afterwards any discrepancy with the said list was discovered, the chief was proven a liar and subject to the punishment of further confiscation as such, and served[pg 235]as well to enhance the reputation for omniscience of Eyes-in-the-hands.

At the end of the recitals of property, MYalu was told, not asked, to bow his head to the ground in token of allegiance. He obeyed in bewilderment which changed to rage when he was informed that the third of his property must be rendered to the august being before one sun’s delay; that he was to be ready at a summons to produce a given number of warriors; and that his small and only son was immediately to be placed in the“village of sons of chiefs”as guaranty of obedience and good behaviour.

In a mist of fright, anger and awe, he sat motionless. Sakamata proceeded to relate the doings of Zalu Zako and those who had remained faithful to him. Zu Pfeiffer had fairly precise information from spies of the movements of the Wongolo since the return of Sergeant Ludwig, who had burned the village ofYagonyana, but shortage of men and the serious disadvantage of traversing and fighting in the forest had prevented him from sending another punitive expedition. Also had he heard of a white man who had passed through the country. Sakamata, native-like, eager to placate, asserted that he had actually seen the white man who was called Moonspirit, and from the same motive, ever wishing to flatter, announced positively that he had no magic at all, was dark and small and a trader, the only kind of white man other than the military at Ingonya of whom Sakamata had ever seen.

Zu Pfeiffer stroked his left moustache and reflected. He had at first thought that the man might possibly be Saunders, a trader who was in his pay, but now[pg 236]decided that he was probably some new trader or hunter from the Tanganyika district. He instructed Sakamata that he was to send a messenger to this white man and command him to come to him immediately. Then waving the imperious jewelled hand, he dismissed them. But noticing the sullen countenance of MYalu, he drew Sergeant Schultz’s attention, ordering him to mark the man and if the tax was not forthcoming quickly, to have him given fifty lashes. Silently Schultz saluted.

So it was that MYalu, sulky, smouldering with anger against Sakamata, for he felt that he had been betrayed into a trap, followed Yabolo out into the sun. Not only had he not gotten back his ivory left in the village, but he was ordered to pay much more than he actually possessed.

But when he had descended the hill to the guest house he came to the weeping and wailing of his people, who informed him that Bakuma had been taken away by three of the demon keepers of the coughing monsters.

[pg 237]Chapter 23Upon the site of Birnier’s old camp in the forest was a high palisade built from tree to tree. Inside of the gate beside a small conical hut burned the sacred fires tended by Mungongo; before a green canvas tent stood the new idol, which differed from the original in having a better perspective and proportion of features and body, yet lacked the master touch of expression given by the subconscious fingers of the native artist.Against the wall were stacked uniform cases to make a table, upon which were a hand-mirror and toilet articles; above a photograph of Lucille was pinned upon the canvas. Upon the camp bed, screened by a mosquito net, lay the new King-God, Moonspirit, the magic book in his hands.“Kings, princes, monarchs, and magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate; you shall find them to be most cumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony, suspicion, jealousy: that as he (Valer. i. 7, c. 3) saith of a crown, if they but knew the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to pick it up. Quem mihi regem dabis (saith Chrysostom) non curis plenum?”The Incarnation of the Unmentionable One smiled,[pg 238]put down the book and glanced across at the photograph.“And yet they still talk of the advantages of a monarchy!”he commented.The original plan concocted with Marufa and Zalu Zako in the forest when making the new idol was that Birnier should become chief witch-doctor and Zalu Zako be anointed King-God, with Marufa as the power behind the throne. Although Zalu Zako desired to escape the yoke, his protest was enfeebled by the sense of fatality, and had been utterly squashed by the promise of Marufa, at Birnier’s suggestion, that the sex tabu would be lifted from the godhead. But the negligence of Marufa in allowing the white man to carry the idol, arranged with the idea of investing Moonspirit with greater prestige according to the prophecies already announced by Tarum, had permitted Bakahenzie to make hiscoup d’état—thrust the godhood upon the white and recover his own position.Birnier in truth had little option of refusal as well as little time for reflection upon a situation the possibility of which had not occurred to him; for Marufa was completely out-manœuvred by his rival, and the certainty of escape from his doom offered by Bakahenzie revived the image of Bakuma in Zalu Zako and bought his partisanship instantly.With Napoleonic swiftness to grasp the advantages gained Bakahenzie drove the lay chiefs from the sacred presence, which he surrounded by a bodyguard of the awed brethren; expelled the household from Zalu Zako’s compound and hustled the incarnation, bearing the new god, into holy isolation.Bewildered by the rapidity of the moves Marufa and[pg 239]Zalu Zako were separated from Moonspirit. In the general confusion, not knowing exactly what was happening, Birnier complied with what he believed to be the regulations regarding gods. But when he perceived that he was about to be left alone he clutched Mungongo and refused to part with him. Bakahenzie, compelled to avoid any delay before consolidating his position, instantly shut up Mungongo in the same web by declaring him the Keeper of the Sacred Fires and so disposed of any agent outside the tabu or craft. As soon as this was accomplished and a dance to celebrate the lighting of the new fires commanded, the wily chief witch-doctor approached Marufa who, realizing that he was hopelessly outwitted, was only too eager to make the best terms possible.Birnier had known that the King-God was never allowed to be seen by the populace except at the Harvest Festival, yet he accepted his isolation philosophically, lured by the expectation of the secrets he was about to learn, although his curiosity led sometimes to the vision of a god peeping through a fence.While the drums summoning the council of chiefs and wizards were muttering through the moist air, to Birnier, squatting on the floor of Zalu Zako’s hut with Mungongo beside him, came Bakahenzie to instruct him in his rôle. To whet his curiosity still more he learned that from the moment of appearance in the gate of the sacred enclosure for the ceremony of the lighting of the royal fires, every movement of body and speech was regulated as rigidly as the etiquette of the Court of Spain. At a signal from the chief witch-doctor was the King-God to leave the hut and[pg 240]appear from behind the idol; with arms in a certain position was he to approach and squat at an exact spot. To Mungongo was given charge of the two fire sticks, newly consecrated.As the chief witch-doctor retired the chanting began. Interested to know what was about to happen Birnier obeyed in the spirit of a game. So in the warm darkness they squatted, these two, listening to the chanting, cries and groans to the accompaniment of the drums and lyres and the perpetual twitter of the forest. At last came a violent howl from Bakahenzie which Mungongo declared was their cue.Around the circle of the fence to avoid the eyes of the audience ran Mungongo to the temporary Place of Fires. Feeling as if he were once more playing in an amateur dramatic club, Birnier stalked with portentous dignity from the hut, past the idol, and took his seat upon the enchanted place. Without the palisade and within another squatted in correct order the lines of wizards and chiefs, Zalu Zako retaining, rather by prestige of his former holiness and indecision as to what his status really was, his position at their head.Upon his haunches before a large calabash upon a fire Bakahenzie finished the mumbling of incantations over the sacred ingredients, and leaping to his feet began a wild dance to the throb of the drums and the diaphragmatic chorus of the assembled cult.… Swifter and swifter spun the chief witch-doctor. The glow of the fire tinted his whirling bronze body with flecks of green and red as he gyrated in and out of the shadows. Suddenly he threw a handful of herbs upon the fire which was immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke,[pg 241]into which with a screech Bakahenzie disappeared.… The drums and grunting ceased. Then in the swirling column of blue appeared his figure holding something in his hands. To the wild outburst of drums and groans he sprang towards the King-God elect and anointed his breast and shoulders with a pungent compound, and leaped away into another dance, while Mungongo plied the two fire sticks. When the spark was blown upon the dry tinder and the first flame flickered Bakahenzie dropped flat before the gate as from the wizards went up the great shout:“The fire is lighted!”And from the mass of warriors and folk confined to their huts behind the outer palisade the phrase was echoed in a mighty wail, startling monkeys and parrots into as wild an acclamation of the new King-God.Bakahenzie, rising to his haunches, began a chant in honour of the new King, a chant based upon the song composed by Marufa and repeated on the phonograph, but developing even stranger merits and attributes. Until the first glimmer of dawn through the forest roof squatted Birnier, as motionless as etiquette demanded, listening to the strange psalm of praise with avid interest and observation.Suddenly, amid a furious clamour of the drums, Bakahenzie, Marufa, and one other of the inner cult of the five who had not deserted, led the body of the doctors in a rush into the sacred enclosure, seized upon the startled King and hustled him to the base of the idol where, yielding to the whispered instructions of Marufa, he took the idol once more upon his shoulders and guided by Bakahenzie, walked out of the gate and[pg 242]through the village to the yelling and screaming of the wizards, some of whom, according to precedent, ran about screeching and rattling hut doors, pulling thatches and howling ferociously in search of any sacrilegious peeper.As he tramped on with his load Marufa yelled in his ear that he must carry the Burden of the World no matter what happened to him, for if he let the idol fall then would he be killed upon the spot to save the sky from falling too. Wondering what this meant and where he was going, the cut of thongs upon his legs surprised him into a halt. Immediately a terrific cry went up:“The Bearer of the World stumbles! Aie! Aieeeeeeeee!”Despite the furious flogging the intellectual interest in this strange conception distracted his mind from the pain of the blows; also his bare back was protected by the idol and his leggings and trousers deadened the lashes. A moment more he hesitated. But he was unarmed and had voluntarily taken on the adventure, so he would see it through. As he broke into a shuffling run, for the idol fortunately was lighter than the previous one and he was a more powerful man than Kawa Kendi, another howl of joy and relief echoed throughout the village.So along the old forest trail he travelled as fast as he could, assisted slightly by wizards’ hands as he crawled over clumps of undergrowth. The intensity of the whipping had decreased as soon as they were out of the village but throughout an occasional vicious whack testified to the presence of some devout doctor. Thus it was that the white King-God came[pg 243]to his throne and sat in state upon his bed to smile at the reflections of a melancholic philosopher.So far so good, reflected Birnier, although the enforced isolation and strict curtailment of his actions had already begun to be irksome; yet to attain so difficult a goal sacrifice must be borne, he argued philosophically.The royal larder, he noticed with thankfulness, was kept well stocked. Every day appeared a slave who left just within the entrance chickens, bananas, milk and fresh water, and sometimes a young goat. All such provisions which he had happened to take into the forest with him and so had escaped MYalu’s marauding hands had been placed in his tent with other cases, as containing no man knew what mighty magic.For three days he had been left utterly alone. Sounds of drums and chanting from the distant village had reached them on the still air, but what they were doing he could not discover. No layman was allowed to come near the sacred enclosure. While he strolled, taking a smoke and constitutional around and around his“pen,”as he put it, several of the lesser wizards appeared and stood at a distance from the gate to stare at him. When addressed they made no reply. On the second occasion he began to be irritated, but he kept his temper and went to cover in his tent, muttering:“Why the devil don’t they bring me some buns?”On the fourth day patience began to fray. He had no notion of knowing how long this quarantine was going to last. He was on the point of going to find out, but Mungongo pleaded so earnestly that they would[pg 244]instantly be killed if they did, that he desisted. So Birnier retired to the tent to seek consolation from a record of Lucille’s voice.Birnier attempted to cross-examine Mungongo to find out what was the object of this isolation, but beyond the fact that strangers were never permitted to behold the King-God, even lay natives, without special magic, which was only made once a year at the Harvest Festival, lest evil be made upon his person and so endanger the world, Mungongo did not know; merely, that so it was. What power over the head witch-doctor the King really had, Mungongo had no notion. The King-God was the most powerful magician known, asserted Mungongo. Did he not make rain and bear the world upon his shoulders? When Birnier unwisely denied this feat, Mungongo looked pained and began a remark, but balked before the name Moonspirit to ask the name of Birnier’s father.At the mental image conjured up of a handsome white-haired planter and ex-owner of many slaves Birnier smiled, but he knew the tabu regarding the ban upon the names of the dead and that he, presumably, having ascended into the divine plane, was therefore classed with the departed. He recollected that the old man, who belonged to a cadet branch of a royalist family, had been called“le Marquis,”of which he was excessively proud. Birnier translated into the dialect the nearest possible rendition of the title: The Lord-of-many-Lands.“The son of the Lord-of-many-Lands,”continued Mungongo satisfied,“doth but tickle the feet of his slave.”[pg 245]On the fifth afternoon, while the god was engrossed in a cure for love madness which, he reflected, might be of service to zu Pfeiffer, came a voice without crying:“The son of Maliko would speak with the Lord, the Bearer of the World!”Birnier glanced across at the photograph of Lucille.“Some job I’ve gotten!”he remarked as he rose. In the gate sat Bakahenzie. Birnier was conscious of an idiotic impulse to rush forward to greet him as an old and long lost friend. But remembering the dignity of his godhood he remained in the tent doorway, bidding the chief witch-doctor to advance.Birnier retired backwards and sat beneath the net, for the mosquitoes were as thick as they are on the bayou Barataria. Mungongo, possibly to prove his erudition, sat upon one of the cases containing much magic, at which Bakahenzie from the floor in the doorway looked askance. Birnier was keenly anxious to know what was happening regarding the fortunes of the tribe, hoping that with the restoration of the Unmentionable One that they would return to their allegiance. According to etiquette he remained silent, waiting for Bakahenzie to open the conversation, until, realizing that he was a god and that the chief witch-doctor was doing the same thing, reflected swiftly and desiring to make an impression, repeated Bakahenzie’s mystic phrase which he had overheard whilst hiding in the jungle previous to the dénouement:“That which is and must be, shall be!”Bakahenzie grunted his acknowledgment of the profundity of the statement.“He who would trap the leopard must needs dig the pit!”Another uncompromising silence[pg 246]urged Birnier to force the pace a little:“O son of Maliko, what say the omens and the signs of the evil one, Eyes-in-the-hands?”“When shall the Unmentionable One return unto the Place of Kings?”demanded Bakahenzie.“The Holy One returneth not unto the place appointed until that which defileth is removed,”retorted Birnier.Bakahenzie took snuff and appeared to consider. Then he glanced around the tent as if in search of something.“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”Mungongo looked expectant and stood up. But Birnier ignored him.“The fruit doth not fall until it be ripe. He would know what hath been done by his slaves for the baiting of the pit for the unclean one.”“Would the magician that cometh from the sea make pretence that an elephant is a mouse?”inquired Bakahenzie.For a moment Birnier was perplexed; then he realized that the chief witch-doctor inferred that he, as King-God, mocked his priest by pretending that he did not know all things.“Doth the chief witch-doctor make magic for the curing of the scratch of a girl of the hut thatch?”he retorted.“Lest thy heart wither like unto a fallen leaf, know then that the soul of Tarum hath made words for the return of the Unmentionable One to the Place of Kings, but that his children may not be as the dogs of the village who are driven, he wills that you prepare the pit for the trapping of the defiled[pg 247]one.”Bakahenzie’s eyes stolidly regarded the tent wall.“O son of Maliko, hast thou sent forth the sound of the drum throughout the land that the children may know of the Coming?”“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”demanded Bakahenzie insistently.Birnier sat motionless in the native manner. Irritated by this childish tenacity to apparently a fixed idea, he yielded to an impulse which was almost a weakness.“O son of Maliko,”said he,“thou art a mighty magician!”Bakahenzie grunted modest assent.“Even as I am.”Another grunt.“Give unto me thine ears and thine eyes that I may reveal unto thee that which is known to the mightiest of magicians.”Commanding the delighted Mungongo to bring out the phonograph, he continued:“Thou hast heard of the mighty doings of the unclean devourer of men, Eyes-in-the-hands. I have magic the like of which man hath never seen. Is it not so?”“Ough!”“Yet will the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands make thee to see that which is, is not!”“That which is, is not,”repeated Bakahenzie, whose professional mind was pleased with the phrase.In the desire to explain rationally the mystery of a phonograph and despairing of any attempt to describe the laws of vibration, Birnier sought for a likely simile. Encouraged by the almost imperceptible fact that he had awakened Bakahenzie’s visible interest, he plunged on:“Within this piece of tree is there nought but many pieces of iron such as thy spears are made of. Thou knowest that there are[pg 248]places by the river and in the rocks where a man may speak and that his words will be returned to him. Is it not so?”“They are white words, O son of the Lord-of-many-Lands!”returned Bakahenzie.“For the spirits of the river and the rocks mock the voices of those who have not eaten of the Sacred Banana”(the uninitiated).“But they mock thy voice as well,”protested Birnier.“Are there not goats in ghostland who bleat at the wizard and the peasant?”“By the Lord!”murmured Birnier, although the mask of his face did not change.“Ghostland is full of goats if one were to credit some of the most modern witch-doctors! Still demonstration …“Thou seest, fellow magician,”he continued,“the pod of the soul of mighty Tarum, his ear like unto an elephant, his colour like unto a lion!”Birnier got out of the mosquito net and knelt beside the phonograph in front of Bakahenzie. Taking off the trumpet and cylinder carrier he opened up the inside, revealing the clockwork motor, wound it up, stopped it and released it.“Thine eyes see that my words are white. These things are but as pieces of metal of thy spears. Is it not so?”“Ough!”Birnier closed the machine, adjusted the trumpet and put on the cylinder of Marufa’s record.“Aie! Aiee! I am the spirit of Kintu!Aie! Aiee! I am he who first was!”chanted the machine.Birnier, noticing that the desired astonishment was[pg 249]registered by an almost impalpable start, stopped the machine and changed the record.“Rejoice, O my children, for he that is bidden shall come!Rejoice, O ye warriors, for he that shall lead you shall come!Rejoice, O ye wizards, for he that is greater than ye shall come!Rejoice, O ye women, for he that fertilizes shall come!”Birnier allowed the machine to run through the chant until the end:“He shall come forth bearing that which ye seek!Hear ye, my people, and give voice to my word!”The machine whirred and stopped. Birnier turned to Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that my words are white?”“Ough!”assented Bakahenzie.“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that at the will of my finger upon that which is made but of spear-heads that the voice of Tarum hath spoken, the voice which is but the mocking voice of Marufa amid the trees of the forest?”“Ough!”“Dost thou not know that he who knows the ways of rocks, who can make pieces of spear into that which will say and do that which he wills, is a greater magician than he who must needs go unto the rocks to be mocked?”“Thou art the greatest of magicians, O son of the[pg 250]Lord-of-many-Lands,”responded Bakahenzie in a burst of eloquence.“For thou hast entrapped the spirits of rocks and spears to do thy bidding.”“O God!”sighed the professor,“what is the use of language?”

Upon the site of Birnier’s old camp in the forest was a high palisade built from tree to tree. Inside of the gate beside a small conical hut burned the sacred fires tended by Mungongo; before a green canvas tent stood the new idol, which differed from the original in having a better perspective and proportion of features and body, yet lacked the master touch of expression given by the subconscious fingers of the native artist.

Against the wall were stacked uniform cases to make a table, upon which were a hand-mirror and toilet articles; above a photograph of Lucille was pinned upon the canvas. Upon the camp bed, screened by a mosquito net, lay the new King-God, Moonspirit, the magic book in his hands.

“Kings, princes, monarchs, and magistrates seem to be most happy, but look into their estate; you shall find them to be most cumbered with cares, in perpetual fear, agony, suspicion, jealousy: that as he (Valer. i. 7, c. 3) saith of a crown, if they but knew the discontents that accompany it, they would not stoop to pick it up. Quem mihi regem dabis (saith Chrysostom) non curis plenum?”

The Incarnation of the Unmentionable One smiled,[pg 238]put down the book and glanced across at the photograph.

“And yet they still talk of the advantages of a monarchy!”he commented.

The original plan concocted with Marufa and Zalu Zako in the forest when making the new idol was that Birnier should become chief witch-doctor and Zalu Zako be anointed King-God, with Marufa as the power behind the throne. Although Zalu Zako desired to escape the yoke, his protest was enfeebled by the sense of fatality, and had been utterly squashed by the promise of Marufa, at Birnier’s suggestion, that the sex tabu would be lifted from the godhead. But the negligence of Marufa in allowing the white man to carry the idol, arranged with the idea of investing Moonspirit with greater prestige according to the prophecies already announced by Tarum, had permitted Bakahenzie to make hiscoup d’état—thrust the godhood upon the white and recover his own position.

Birnier in truth had little option of refusal as well as little time for reflection upon a situation the possibility of which had not occurred to him; for Marufa was completely out-manœuvred by his rival, and the certainty of escape from his doom offered by Bakahenzie revived the image of Bakuma in Zalu Zako and bought his partisanship instantly.

With Napoleonic swiftness to grasp the advantages gained Bakahenzie drove the lay chiefs from the sacred presence, which he surrounded by a bodyguard of the awed brethren; expelled the household from Zalu Zako’s compound and hustled the incarnation, bearing the new god, into holy isolation.

Bewildered by the rapidity of the moves Marufa and[pg 239]Zalu Zako were separated from Moonspirit. In the general confusion, not knowing exactly what was happening, Birnier complied with what he believed to be the regulations regarding gods. But when he perceived that he was about to be left alone he clutched Mungongo and refused to part with him. Bakahenzie, compelled to avoid any delay before consolidating his position, instantly shut up Mungongo in the same web by declaring him the Keeper of the Sacred Fires and so disposed of any agent outside the tabu or craft. As soon as this was accomplished and a dance to celebrate the lighting of the new fires commanded, the wily chief witch-doctor approached Marufa who, realizing that he was hopelessly outwitted, was only too eager to make the best terms possible.

Birnier had known that the King-God was never allowed to be seen by the populace except at the Harvest Festival, yet he accepted his isolation philosophically, lured by the expectation of the secrets he was about to learn, although his curiosity led sometimes to the vision of a god peeping through a fence.

While the drums summoning the council of chiefs and wizards were muttering through the moist air, to Birnier, squatting on the floor of Zalu Zako’s hut with Mungongo beside him, came Bakahenzie to instruct him in his rôle. To whet his curiosity still more he learned that from the moment of appearance in the gate of the sacred enclosure for the ceremony of the lighting of the royal fires, every movement of body and speech was regulated as rigidly as the etiquette of the Court of Spain. At a signal from the chief witch-doctor was the King-God to leave the hut and[pg 240]appear from behind the idol; with arms in a certain position was he to approach and squat at an exact spot. To Mungongo was given charge of the two fire sticks, newly consecrated.

As the chief witch-doctor retired the chanting began. Interested to know what was about to happen Birnier obeyed in the spirit of a game. So in the warm darkness they squatted, these two, listening to the chanting, cries and groans to the accompaniment of the drums and lyres and the perpetual twitter of the forest. At last came a violent howl from Bakahenzie which Mungongo declared was their cue.

Around the circle of the fence to avoid the eyes of the audience ran Mungongo to the temporary Place of Fires. Feeling as if he were once more playing in an amateur dramatic club, Birnier stalked with portentous dignity from the hut, past the idol, and took his seat upon the enchanted place. Without the palisade and within another squatted in correct order the lines of wizards and chiefs, Zalu Zako retaining, rather by prestige of his former holiness and indecision as to what his status really was, his position at their head.

Upon his haunches before a large calabash upon a fire Bakahenzie finished the mumbling of incantations over the sacred ingredients, and leaping to his feet began a wild dance to the throb of the drums and the diaphragmatic chorus of the assembled cult.… Swifter and swifter spun the chief witch-doctor. The glow of the fire tinted his whirling bronze body with flecks of green and red as he gyrated in and out of the shadows. Suddenly he threw a handful of herbs upon the fire which was immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke,[pg 241]into which with a screech Bakahenzie disappeared.… The drums and grunting ceased. Then in the swirling column of blue appeared his figure holding something in his hands. To the wild outburst of drums and groans he sprang towards the King-God elect and anointed his breast and shoulders with a pungent compound, and leaped away into another dance, while Mungongo plied the two fire sticks. When the spark was blown upon the dry tinder and the first flame flickered Bakahenzie dropped flat before the gate as from the wizards went up the great shout:

“The fire is lighted!”

And from the mass of warriors and folk confined to their huts behind the outer palisade the phrase was echoed in a mighty wail, startling monkeys and parrots into as wild an acclamation of the new King-God.

Bakahenzie, rising to his haunches, began a chant in honour of the new King, a chant based upon the song composed by Marufa and repeated on the phonograph, but developing even stranger merits and attributes. Until the first glimmer of dawn through the forest roof squatted Birnier, as motionless as etiquette demanded, listening to the strange psalm of praise with avid interest and observation.

Suddenly, amid a furious clamour of the drums, Bakahenzie, Marufa, and one other of the inner cult of the five who had not deserted, led the body of the doctors in a rush into the sacred enclosure, seized upon the startled King and hustled him to the base of the idol where, yielding to the whispered instructions of Marufa, he took the idol once more upon his shoulders and guided by Bakahenzie, walked out of the gate and[pg 242]through the village to the yelling and screaming of the wizards, some of whom, according to precedent, ran about screeching and rattling hut doors, pulling thatches and howling ferociously in search of any sacrilegious peeper.

As he tramped on with his load Marufa yelled in his ear that he must carry the Burden of the World no matter what happened to him, for if he let the idol fall then would he be killed upon the spot to save the sky from falling too. Wondering what this meant and where he was going, the cut of thongs upon his legs surprised him into a halt. Immediately a terrific cry went up:

“The Bearer of the World stumbles! Aie! Aieeeeeeeee!”

Despite the furious flogging the intellectual interest in this strange conception distracted his mind from the pain of the blows; also his bare back was protected by the idol and his leggings and trousers deadened the lashes. A moment more he hesitated. But he was unarmed and had voluntarily taken on the adventure, so he would see it through. As he broke into a shuffling run, for the idol fortunately was lighter than the previous one and he was a more powerful man than Kawa Kendi, another howl of joy and relief echoed throughout the village.

So along the old forest trail he travelled as fast as he could, assisted slightly by wizards’ hands as he crawled over clumps of undergrowth. The intensity of the whipping had decreased as soon as they were out of the village but throughout an occasional vicious whack testified to the presence of some devout doctor. Thus it was that the white King-God came[pg 243]to his throne and sat in state upon his bed to smile at the reflections of a melancholic philosopher.

So far so good, reflected Birnier, although the enforced isolation and strict curtailment of his actions had already begun to be irksome; yet to attain so difficult a goal sacrifice must be borne, he argued philosophically.

The royal larder, he noticed with thankfulness, was kept well stocked. Every day appeared a slave who left just within the entrance chickens, bananas, milk and fresh water, and sometimes a young goat. All such provisions which he had happened to take into the forest with him and so had escaped MYalu’s marauding hands had been placed in his tent with other cases, as containing no man knew what mighty magic.

For three days he had been left utterly alone. Sounds of drums and chanting from the distant village had reached them on the still air, but what they were doing he could not discover. No layman was allowed to come near the sacred enclosure. While he strolled, taking a smoke and constitutional around and around his“pen,”as he put it, several of the lesser wizards appeared and stood at a distance from the gate to stare at him. When addressed they made no reply. On the second occasion he began to be irritated, but he kept his temper and went to cover in his tent, muttering:“Why the devil don’t they bring me some buns?”

On the fourth day patience began to fray. He had no notion of knowing how long this quarantine was going to last. He was on the point of going to find out, but Mungongo pleaded so earnestly that they would[pg 244]instantly be killed if they did, that he desisted. So Birnier retired to the tent to seek consolation from a record of Lucille’s voice.

Birnier attempted to cross-examine Mungongo to find out what was the object of this isolation, but beyond the fact that strangers were never permitted to behold the King-God, even lay natives, without special magic, which was only made once a year at the Harvest Festival, lest evil be made upon his person and so endanger the world, Mungongo did not know; merely, that so it was. What power over the head witch-doctor the King really had, Mungongo had no notion. The King-God was the most powerful magician known, asserted Mungongo. Did he not make rain and bear the world upon his shoulders? When Birnier unwisely denied this feat, Mungongo looked pained and began a remark, but balked before the name Moonspirit to ask the name of Birnier’s father.

At the mental image conjured up of a handsome white-haired planter and ex-owner of many slaves Birnier smiled, but he knew the tabu regarding the ban upon the names of the dead and that he, presumably, having ascended into the divine plane, was therefore classed with the departed. He recollected that the old man, who belonged to a cadet branch of a royalist family, had been called“le Marquis,”of which he was excessively proud. Birnier translated into the dialect the nearest possible rendition of the title: The Lord-of-many-Lands.

“The son of the Lord-of-many-Lands,”continued Mungongo satisfied,“doth but tickle the feet of his slave.”

On the fifth afternoon, while the god was engrossed in a cure for love madness which, he reflected, might be of service to zu Pfeiffer, came a voice without crying:

“The son of Maliko would speak with the Lord, the Bearer of the World!”

Birnier glanced across at the photograph of Lucille.

“Some job I’ve gotten!”he remarked as he rose. In the gate sat Bakahenzie. Birnier was conscious of an idiotic impulse to rush forward to greet him as an old and long lost friend. But remembering the dignity of his godhood he remained in the tent doorway, bidding the chief witch-doctor to advance.

Birnier retired backwards and sat beneath the net, for the mosquitoes were as thick as they are on the bayou Barataria. Mungongo, possibly to prove his erudition, sat upon one of the cases containing much magic, at which Bakahenzie from the floor in the doorway looked askance. Birnier was keenly anxious to know what was happening regarding the fortunes of the tribe, hoping that with the restoration of the Unmentionable One that they would return to their allegiance. According to etiquette he remained silent, waiting for Bakahenzie to open the conversation, until, realizing that he was a god and that the chief witch-doctor was doing the same thing, reflected swiftly and desiring to make an impression, repeated Bakahenzie’s mystic phrase which he had overheard whilst hiding in the jungle previous to the dénouement:

“That which is and must be, shall be!”Bakahenzie grunted his acknowledgment of the profundity of the statement.“He who would trap the leopard must needs dig the pit!”Another uncompromising silence[pg 246]urged Birnier to force the pace a little:“O son of Maliko, what say the omens and the signs of the evil one, Eyes-in-the-hands?”

“When shall the Unmentionable One return unto the Place of Kings?”demanded Bakahenzie.

“The Holy One returneth not unto the place appointed until that which defileth is removed,”retorted Birnier.

Bakahenzie took snuff and appeared to consider. Then he glanced around the tent as if in search of something.

“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”

Mungongo looked expectant and stood up. But Birnier ignored him.

“The fruit doth not fall until it be ripe. He would know what hath been done by his slaves for the baiting of the pit for the unclean one.”

“Would the magician that cometh from the sea make pretence that an elephant is a mouse?”inquired Bakahenzie.

For a moment Birnier was perplexed; then he realized that the chief witch-doctor inferred that he, as King-God, mocked his priest by pretending that he did not know all things.

“Doth the chief witch-doctor make magic for the curing of the scratch of a girl of the hut thatch?”he retorted.“Lest thy heart wither like unto a fallen leaf, know then that the soul of Tarum hath made words for the return of the Unmentionable One to the Place of Kings, but that his children may not be as the dogs of the village who are driven, he wills that you prepare the pit for the trapping of the defiled[pg 247]one.”Bakahenzie’s eyes stolidly regarded the tent wall.“O son of Maliko, hast thou sent forth the sound of the drum throughout the land that the children may know of the Coming?”

“When will the voice of Tarum speak through the pod of the soul?”demanded Bakahenzie insistently.

Birnier sat motionless in the native manner. Irritated by this childish tenacity to apparently a fixed idea, he yielded to an impulse which was almost a weakness.

“O son of Maliko,”said he,“thou art a mighty magician!”Bakahenzie grunted modest assent.“Even as I am.”Another grunt.“Give unto me thine ears and thine eyes that I may reveal unto thee that which is known to the mightiest of magicians.”Commanding the delighted Mungongo to bring out the phonograph, he continued:“Thou hast heard of the mighty doings of the unclean devourer of men, Eyes-in-the-hands. I have magic the like of which man hath never seen. Is it not so?”

“Ough!”

“Yet will the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands make thee to see that which is, is not!”

“That which is, is not,”repeated Bakahenzie, whose professional mind was pleased with the phrase.

In the desire to explain rationally the mystery of a phonograph and despairing of any attempt to describe the laws of vibration, Birnier sought for a likely simile. Encouraged by the almost imperceptible fact that he had awakened Bakahenzie’s visible interest, he plunged on:“Within this piece of tree is there nought but many pieces of iron such as thy spears are made of. Thou knowest that there are[pg 248]places by the river and in the rocks where a man may speak and that his words will be returned to him. Is it not so?”

“They are white words, O son of the Lord-of-many-Lands!”returned Bakahenzie.“For the spirits of the river and the rocks mock the voices of those who have not eaten of the Sacred Banana”(the uninitiated).

“But they mock thy voice as well,”protested Birnier.

“Are there not goats in ghostland who bleat at the wizard and the peasant?”

“By the Lord!”murmured Birnier, although the mask of his face did not change.“Ghostland is full of goats if one were to credit some of the most modern witch-doctors! Still demonstration …

“Thou seest, fellow magician,”he continued,“the pod of the soul of mighty Tarum, his ear like unto an elephant, his colour like unto a lion!”Birnier got out of the mosquito net and knelt beside the phonograph in front of Bakahenzie. Taking off the trumpet and cylinder carrier he opened up the inside, revealing the clockwork motor, wound it up, stopped it and released it.“Thine eyes see that my words are white. These things are but as pieces of metal of thy spears. Is it not so?”

“Ough!”

Birnier closed the machine, adjusted the trumpet and put on the cylinder of Marufa’s record.

“Aie! Aiee! I am the spirit of Kintu!Aie! Aiee! I am he who first was!”

“Aie! Aiee! I am the spirit of Kintu!

Aie! Aiee! I am he who first was!”

chanted the machine.

Birnier, noticing that the desired astonishment was[pg 249]registered by an almost impalpable start, stopped the machine and changed the record.

“Rejoice, O my children, for he that is bidden shall come!Rejoice, O ye warriors, for he that shall lead you shall come!Rejoice, O ye wizards, for he that is greater than ye shall come!Rejoice, O ye women, for he that fertilizes shall come!”

“Rejoice, O my children, for he that is bidden shall come!

Rejoice, O ye warriors, for he that shall lead you shall come!

Rejoice, O ye wizards, for he that is greater than ye shall come!

Rejoice, O ye women, for he that fertilizes shall come!”

Birnier allowed the machine to run through the chant until the end:

“He shall come forth bearing that which ye seek!Hear ye, my people, and give voice to my word!”

“He shall come forth bearing that which ye seek!

Hear ye, my people, and give voice to my word!”

The machine whirred and stopped. Birnier turned to Bakahenzie.

“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that my words are white?”

“Ough!”assented Bakahenzie.

“Thou hast seen, O my brother magician, that at the will of my finger upon that which is made but of spear-heads that the voice of Tarum hath spoken, the voice which is but the mocking voice of Marufa amid the trees of the forest?”

“Ough!”

“Dost thou not know that he who knows the ways of rocks, who can make pieces of spear into that which will say and do that which he wills, is a greater magician than he who must needs go unto the rocks to be mocked?”

“Thou art the greatest of magicians, O son of the[pg 250]Lord-of-many-Lands,”responded Bakahenzie in a burst of eloquence.“For thou hast entrapped the spirits of rocks and spears to do thy bidding.”

“O God!”sighed the professor,“what is the use of language?”

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