Chapter 26
In a corner of one of the half-completed huts in a half-completed street of the new village of the Place of Kings squatted Yabolo and other chiefs. As Sakamata was up in the fort serving Eyes-in-the-hands they could talk freely, yet in low tones and with wary eyes for the interstices of the unfinished wall. More than one chief had been thrashed but none as high in rank as MYalu; moreover, those that had been severely punished had been taken in fair fight or had attempted to escape, whereas MYalu had done nothing that they considered to merit punishment. The growing detestation and hatred smouldering within all of them against the new ruler had burst into flame at the first hint of the news vibrating upon the moist air. Later had come another drum message bidding them await new words of Tarum, and forty-eight hours afterwards the messenger sent by zu Pfeiffer to summon Moonspirit, who squatted in the group, whispered word for word Birnier’s message on the phonograph, adding further instructions from Bakahenzie that the signal should be another message upon the drums: “The Fire is lighted.”
Warm banana wrapped in leaves, which a slave had brought in, was placed before the chiefs while the messenger related the gossip of the village in the forest. Later, while lolling through the mid-day heat waiting for the time of audience, he produced [pg 270] from his loin cloth the magic charm which the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands, the King-God, had sent to Eyes-in-the-hands and repeated the prophecy that he should trumpet like unto a wounded cow elephant, eliciting many grunts of admiration and awe. Then he inquired for Sakamata and MYalu, and upon hearing the account, reported that they were both traitors and had been condemned to die by the magic of Bakahenzie and Marufa.
Each and every chief felt that he had been betrayed by Sakamata. Even Yabolo, his relative, particularly because his visionary schemes had come to nought, was against Sakamata. Sakamata had heard the message of the drums, “The Fire is lighted.” But of the details of the return of the Unmentionable One and of the new King-God he knew nothing, although every other Wongolo man, woman, and child, knew it. The terror of the tabu, of the power of the Unmentionable One, was more overwhelming than his fear of Eyes-in-the-hands, wizard and ex-member of the inner cult though he be. The Unmentionable One had returned, a miracle! In a thousand signs of birds and beasts, twigs and shadows, Sakamata saw omens of evil. He knew that he was an outcast, that his fellows were plotting; that they knew something that he did not; yet he dared not tell Eyes-in-the-hands lest he be killed on the instant, not by Eyes-in-the-hands but by the mystic power of the Unmentionable One.
Farther down the line, in a small hut, lay MYalu motionless. His mind was a whirling red spot of rage and pain, obliterating the image of Bakuma, his ivory, and everything. From the base of the spine [pg 271] to his neck he was criss-crossed with bloody weals administered with a kiboko (whip of hippopotamus hide) by one of the black giants who formed the door guard at the tent of Eyes-in-the-hands. More stimulating to his anger even than the excessive pain was the indignity, that he, MYalu, son of MBusa, a chief, had been flogged like a slave before all men! Could he have gotten free he would have leaped upon zu Pfeiffer, god or no, and torn him to pieces with hands and teeth. But he could scarcely move. Never had such an act been conceived by MYalu. The native dignity and reserve was shattered. He lay upon his belly and glared with the eyes of a maddened and tortured animal.
The yellow glare in the open doorway was darkened, but MYalu did not stir. The figure of Yabolo, a short throwing sword in hand, moved towards him and squatted down, muttering greetings. MYalu made no response. Yabolo repeated the message from the spirit of Tarum.
“Let thy spear be made sharp, O son of MBusa, that we may make the jackal who would command the lion to eat offal!” MYalu grunted. “The son of Bayakala saith that it will be soon, so that thou mayest yet eat of thy defiler ere thou art gone to ghostland.” MYalu turned his head. “The son of MTungo and the son of Maliko,” explained the old man, “have made magic upon the parts which thou didst foolishly leave within thy hut.”
Again MYalu merely grunted and turned away his head. But that dread news had quenched the white flame of anger. The spirits were wroth; even had they caused him to eat the dust before all men. [pg 272] Conviction in the efficacy of the magic for which he would have bought Marufa to make against Zalu Zako was as absolute as his faith in the death magic made against him by the two powerful witch-doctors, and intensified by the miraculous return of the Unmentionable One against whom he had committed sacrilege. He recollected the cry of the Baroto bird on the night on which he had kidnapped the Bride of the Banana. The spirit of Tarum was wroth. The mighty new King-God of the Unmentionable One was about to eat up all the enemies of the land. MYalu was convinced that he was doomed; certain that Yabolo knew that he was doomed; that every man knew that he was doomed.
For ten minutes the figures, squatting and lying, remained as motionless as bronzes. Then MYalu rose to his knees and said calmly: “Give me thy sword, O son of Zingala.”
Silently Yabolo handed him the sword which MYalu placed beneath him and laid down again. So quietly he died.
From the sacred hill blared the harsh cry of the yellow bird, as the natives called the trumpet, announcing that the august presence was in audience. But instead of the usual crowd of immobile figures squatted almost under the shadow of the pom-pom within the gate of the fort, sat only the messenger. Sakamata, knowing that something portended and yet not exactly what, was so scared that his skinny limbs quivered as if with an ague. Although he desired to warn Eyes-in-the-hands in order to save himself, he dared not attempt to do so lest the august one visit his anger upon his person; vague ideas of redeeming [pg 273] his treachery by delivering Eyes-in-the-hands over to his countrymen were stoppered by terror of the wrath of the Unmentionable One.
So it was that the pomp of the Son-of-the-Earthquake and the glory of the soul of the World-Trembler with many charms upon his breast was reserved for the humble messenger who entered escorted by Sakamata. After bowing in the prescribed manner the messenger squatted at zu Pfeiffer’s feet and addressed himself to the corporal interpreter.
“The son of the Lord-of-many-lands, that is the King-God of the One-not-to-be-mentioned, sends greeting to the son of the World-Trembler, called Eyes-in-the-hands, and this message: ‘Say unto the man of many tongues as well as many eyes that the jackal follows the lion that he may feed on the leavings; the voice of the hyena is loudest when he eateth offal!’”
“What does the animal say?” demanded zu Pfeiffer, impatient of the native preamble.
“He says, Bwana,” said the interpreter, “that the white man is sick and cannot move, but that he will come as soon as he is well.”
From the folds of his loin cloth the messenger was dutifully extracting something wrapped up in a banana leaf, which he handed to the interpreter as he finished the message:
“And by his slave he sendeth that which is mighty magic; such magic that he who toucheth it shall trumpet like unto a wounded cow elephant.”
“He says, Bwana,” continued the interpreter glibly, “that he sends to the mighty Eater-of-Men a small present,” and with the words the corporal [pg 274] guilelessly proffered the small package. Zu Pfeiffer took it and tore off the covering.…
Then was the magic of the new King-god of the Unmentionable One made manifest to all men, and particularly a group of chiefs hiding in a small thicket beneath the hill, for indeed did the Son-of-the-Earthquake trumpet like unto a wounded cow elephant at the sight of an ivory disc on which was written:
“Amantes—Amentes!”