Chapter 25
In the camp of Bakahenzie was the low mutter of the drums by day and night. The village had straggled farther through the forest in each direction save that of the sacred enclosure. Already were some five hundred warriors there and more were pouring in every day. Busy were Bakahenzie and wizards, great and small, in the preparing of amulets of the hearts of lions, livers of leopards and galls of birds, and the brewing of potent decoctions to be smeared with parrot feathers upon the warriors old and young against the evil eye and the spirits of the night. And dispensed by Bakahenzie and Marufa, from whom had come the original idea, was a special and rather expensive charm against the coughing monsters, which was made by, and invested with, the magic of the King-God himself, a can key. That morning had there been a special meeting of the craft and the chiefs before the sacred enclosure, where they had looked upon the sacred form of the King-God and heard the magic elephant’s ear give them instructions and a prophecy. Around and about a hundred fires, flickering mystically in the moist cavern of the forest, shuffled and chanted the warriors invoking the aid of Tarum, the spirit of their ancestors.
On the threshold of his hut squatted a sullen Zalu Zako. He had discovered that he had escaped from the river bearing him to the pool of celibacy to find that the bird had been captured by another. Although [pg 259] he had known that before attaining his desire he would have had to extricate Bakuma from the net of the tabu, yet, lover-like and human, that task unconsidered had seemed as easy as stalking a buck in a wood. But the joy of his own release had been dissipated as a cloud of dust by a shower by the news of MYalu’s abduction of the girl and his desertion. Zalu Zako was so obsessed by chagrin at this wholly unexpected appearance of a rival that he was inclined to regret that he had ever thought of the move by which he could escape his late doom and rescue Bakuma at the same time. The illusion of nearness to the desired object had served naturally to whet his appetite; the balked love motive dominated him almost to the exclusion of political affairs. What his official status was now that all precedent had been broken Bakahenzie did not know and had not decided, and Zalu Zako cared less.
Though his faith in most of the tribal theology was unshaken, he did not believe in the sanctity, or the necessity, of the marriage of the Bride of the Banana, because he had a defensive complex of desire for her that inhibited that belief. Towards MYalu, Zalu Zako’s natural reaction was revenge. The matter was how to accomplish that end. To reveal to Bakahenzie that he was the lover of Bakuma would be tantamount to admitting sacrilege in having a passion for the Bride of the Banana.
As Zalu Zako was unable to get at the person of his rival the most logical method to his mind was by witchcraft. To obtain some relics of the body of MYalu proved easy, as his wives and slaves being forced to flee, had been unable to burn the deserted hut, thus [pg 260] leaving in the customary place in the thatch some of the hair and nail clippings. Also to find an excuse for the cursing of MYalu was still easier. So at a meeting of the chiefs he rivalled Bakahenzie in denunciation of the absconding chief, insisted that a mighty magic be made against him and produced the necessary corporeal parts upon which to work. So it was that Bakahenzie and Marufa, a quiet watchful Marufa, brewed the magic brew and condemned MYalu by the proxy of his nail clippings to die, a process that took root in a very firm conviction in the mind of Zalu Zako and the others that die MYalu would.
After this satisfaction of the first fierce instinct Zalu Zako was more at liberty to consider other matters, which resulted in an effort to quicken the collective will to recover the tribe’s country and possessions, symbolised in Zalu Zako’s mind by the delicate figure of Bakuma.
The ceremony of the lighting of the new fires he had attended perfunctorily. To have regret or pity for the white man, Moonspirit who had taken over his doom, never occurred to Zalu Zako, for to him as to Bakahenzie Moonspirit was a mighty magician who, if competent to effect the magic he had already displayed, was capable of looking after himself; moreover, as he had recalled the Unmentionable One, he stood as the incarnation of the tribe, the god, therefore beyond human consideration.
Bakahenzie’s chief regard was, of course, to unify the tribe once more and to rouse those who had submitted to Eyes-in-the-hands to rebellion, which was but a projection of his desire, as that of all patriots, to consolidate his own position and to regain [pg 261] his lost prestige. He had had no need to command that the news be sent abroad. At the ceremony of the Lighting of the Fires the drum notes had been picked up by the nearest village and sent ricocheting across the length and breadth of the country, rippling through the Court of the Son-of-the-Earthquake.
Bakahenzie’s confidence had increased tenfold since, by his clever coup, he had locked up the white magician in the godhead. He believed that Moonspirit was the mightiest magician the world had ever seen, a demi-god; for had he, Bakahenzie, not seen these wondrous miracles with his own eyes? Had not he, Bakahenzie, captured and tamed this marvellous power to his own ends?
So absolute was this confidence in the powers of the white that Bakahenzie was perfectly sincere, as Mungongo and Bakuma had been, in asserting that the “son of the Lord-of-many-Lands” was pleased to pretend that “an elephant was a mouse,” that he “tickled their feet.” The only doubt raised in his mind at that interview was whether he could persuade this powerful being to destroy the usurper “out of hand,” as it were, or even whether Moonspirit could do so; for it was quite reasonable to him to suppose that even a god, in fighting another god, might have to do battle for the victory.
Not in spite of, but because of, this firm faith Bakahenzie took more precautions than ever before to surround the captured god with the toughest fibres of the tabu to keep him in isolation. Obviously such a valuable prize demanded special precautions. He promulgated an ordinance, in the amplitude of his regained power, that no lay man nor any wizard [pg 262] save the inner cult, whom he dared not forbid, were to approach within sight of the sacred enclosure. In the jungle of his mind lurked the fear that the new god might be seen to leave the sacred ground and thus render the penalty of death imperative according to the laws of the tabu upon a god who jeopardised the tribal welfare as MFunya MPopo had done by his failure to bring rain. The belief that he could control a force which he admitted was infinitely greater than he, and of punishing it if it did not behave, was not at all inconsistent to the native mind, nor more illogical than many theological ideas of whites.
At the last interview Bakahenzie had tried to persuade Birnier to permit him to speak into the mighty ear of the magic box; in effect an attempt to gain complete control. But Birnier, when he at length had realised that Bakahenzie’s mental development was little greater than Mungongo’s, and keenly aware of the isolation to which he was to be subjected, as well as the purpose in the witch-doctor’s mind, had resolutely refused. Bakahenzie had accepted the intimation that the god would not work miracles through any other mouth than that of his incarnation, and after a long cogitative silence had departed without further comment.
But of course he came back again next day, as Birnier had known that he would. Birnier hinted at the expected initiation into the “mysteries” of the craft, particularly of the Festival of the Banana and the other ceremonies connected with his rôle as King-God. But Bakahenzie’s gaze, fixed upon an object on the toilet table, did not quiver. Birnier repeated the inquiry more bluntly. Said Bakahenzie:
“The fingers of the son of Maliko are hungry to touch the magic knife of the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands.”
“Damn it,” muttered Birnier. “That’s my favourite!” But he handed the razor to Bakahenzie, saying: “Is not the porridge pot free to all brothers?” Gravely Bakahenzie slipped the safety razor into his loin cloth, mumbled the orthodox adieu and departed.
Although devoted to Birnier as much as ever, Mungongo was bound just as much by the articles of the tabu as any other native; in fact, since his appointment to the high office of Keeper of the Fires, he was if possible more terrified by the bogies of their theology than before. Put one foot out of the sacred ground he would not, for he was convinced that immediately he did so, the ghosts of the dead kings would instantly strangle him. Birnier attempted to persuade him to get into communication with Marufa, but that wily gentleman, grieving over the failure of the coup he had aided Birnier to make, and for the moment completely under the domination of Bakahenzie, who, he knew, had him watched every moment of the day and night, would never approach the Place of the Unmentionable One. Nor dared Zalu Zako break the tabu placed by Bakahenzie. To Bakahenzie and not to Birnier he owed his escape from the dreaded godhood. One who had released him might quite reasonably have him back again if annoyed. The few wizards who came to gaze at the imprisoned god like children at the Zoo, as Birnier had commented, were deaf to any remark, instruction, or plea of the Holy One. So it was that Birnier began to realise that [pg 264] the functions of a god were so very purely divine that he would never be allowed to interfere in human affairs at all except by grace of the high priest, and possibly he was not the first god who had found that out.
This jungle of secrecy and the denial of any active part in the organising of the tribe began to irritate Birnier. Yet he perceived clearly enough from his knowledge of the native mind that a premature effort to force either confidence or action would end in disaster. Patience and perseverance alone would bring success; and the moulding of the material through forces which already controlled it. He must play the witch-doctor to the full. Working upon this hypothesis he determined to control Bakahenzie through “messages” from the spirit of Tarum. The trouble was to find out whether Bakahenzie would obey him or not and to what extent.
So in the early hours of one morning Bakahenzie’s watchers in the forest shuddered as they heard more of the mysterious voices of the Unmentionable One making wondrous magic within the temple as Mungongo chanted, at Birnier’s prompting, the god’s instructions to his high priest and people. The form of the chant was not correct as Mungongo’s memory was very unreliable, but as Birnier remarked to the portrait of Lucille, “I don’t suppose Maestro Bakahenzie is such a stylist as he would have the public suppose.” Afterwards, to Mungongo’s delight, who was never tired of any manifestation of Moonspirit’s magic, he put out the light and lay upon his bed within the temple listening to the voice of Lucille pouring [pg 265] out the passion of “Mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix,” in Samson et Delilah, to the sleepy ears of the monkeys above the figure of the idol limned against the moon-patterned roof of the forest.
But scarcely had the moist ultramarine shadows turned to mauve than the voice of Bakahenzie hailed the god most punctiliously from without. However Birnier happened to be sleepy, and the chance of the early hour presented such an opportunity to gain prestige that he sent the Keeper of the Fires to inform the High Priest that the god was not yet up and that he must needs wait. And wait did Bakahenzie, like unto a graven image at the gate until the sun was four hand’s-spans above the trees. When Birnier had breakfasted upon broiled kid, eggs, banana and weak tea, Bakahenzie was summoned to the august presence.
Wondering what new idea Bakahenzie had gotten into his head Birnier solemnly talked the usual preliminaries, intending to announce in the best manner that Tarum had a message for the son of Maliko; but to his astonishment Bakahenzie forestalled him by demanding to know when the god would speak again.
When Mungongo had gravely placed the machine at his feet Birnier set the record. The chant bade the son of Maliko to summon the wizards and the warriors of the tribe to the abode of the Unmentionable One; to send to those who had fallen into the power of Eyes-in-the-hands instructions that they were not to reveal by word or deed that the Unmentionable One had been pleased to return, but to wait like a wild cat at a fish pool until a signal was [pg 266] given through the drums, when they were to smite swiftly at every keeper of the demons and to flee immediately to their brethren in the forest; that they were on no account to kill or wound Eyes-in-the-hands nor any white man that was his, lest their powerful ghosts exact a terrible penalty and refuse to be propitiated; that when these things had been done would the spirit of Tarum issue further instructions.
In composing this message Bernier had sought to gain the advantage of a surprise attack and to secure the massacre of as many of the askaris as possible; to save zu Pfeiffer and his white sergeants from the fate which would await them should they fall into the hands of the Wongolo; to minimise the loss of men which would occur were the tribe to attempt to face the guns; afterwards to lure zu Pfeiffer away from his fortifications and the open country, in order to compel him to fight in the forest where he could not ascertain what force was against him; and in the meantime to slip round and establish the idol in the Place of Kings, which act would consolidate the moral of the tribe as well as cut the line of zu Pfeiffer’s communications with Ingonya.
As Bakahenzie listened gravely and attentively, Birnier keenly watched his face. Although the mask did not quiver, a half suppressed grunt at the end persuaded him that Bakahenzie was duly impressed, but he made no comment. After regarding Mungongo solemnly putting away the machine Bakahenzie remarked casually:
“In the village is a messenger from Eyes-in-the-hands who sends thee greetings.”
This was the first news that Birnier had received since his ascent to the godhood. He had expected that sooner or later zu Pfeiffer would hear of the presence of a white man, but he was rather startled at the inference that zu Pfeiffer knew who he was. He made no visible sign as he waited. Bakahenzie took snuff interestedly and continued:
“Eyes-in-the-hands bids thee to go unto the Place of Kings to eat the dust before him.”
Bakahenzie regarded him with keen eyes. Birnier considered swiftly. From the latter part of the message he gathered that zu Pfeiffer was not aware of his identity. His opinion of zu Pfeiffer’s character suggested certain psychological possibilities. His policy was to lure him away from his fort; to destroy his military judgment. Therefore to cause him at this juncture to be violently disturbed by a personal emotion might tend to confuse his mind. Enmity—fear—might equally serve as the lure required. In spite of committing a breach of native etiquette Birnier could not resist smiling. He reached for the “Anatomy” and as he scribbled two words he said to Bakahenzie solemnly:
“O son of Maliko, say unto this man of many tongues as well as many eyes, ‘that the jackal follows the lion that he may feed upon his leavings; that the voice of the hyena is loudest when he eateth offal.’ And shall the slave take unto him that which is mighty magic, such magic that when Eyes-in-the-hands doth but touch it shall he trumpet like unto a wounded cow elephant. Bid him to mark that my words be white!”
And when Bakahenzie had gone Birnier turned to [pg 268] the portrait on the wall and remarked as he indulged in the luxury of a grin: “Say, honey, but if that doesn’t make him mad, I’ll—I’ll eat my own manuscripts!”