Yabolo, however, made an attempt to recover the lost adherents by protesting that the Moon of the Harvest Festival had not yet come, and that therefore victory could not be obtained until two more moons had waned. But MYalu saw that by submitting to the new god he might be able to have removed the tabu upon Bakuma—all things were possible to one who had overthrown the Unmentionable One—and thus obtain her by the price of submission; also he might possibly recover his wealth of ivory abandoned after the massacre. Therefore did he with his people go over to the Yabolo faction.
Uproar and confusion ensued. Bakahenzie recovered from his trance with unprecedented rapidity and even did not require to be told what the spirit of Tarum had said through his lips. The tribe was split into fiercer factions than ever. They argued and screamed and cursed. Bakahenzie had lost the hold over them; for as the god, of which he was the sponsor, was dead, his credit had gone too. He dared no longer to remove a troublesome brother or chief by magic. His only hope was to restore the god: so to that end he declared that Zalu Zako must be anointed King-God. Uproar arose once more. But Bakahenzie’s purpose had been served; he had diverted their attention from the subject of submission.
From time to time came terrified runners with horrific stories of the burning of villages, of massacre [pg 139] and rapine. Bakahenzie, determined not to yield, secretly dispatched a slave to Eyes-in-the-hands with an arrow which is a sign of war; Yabolo, whose mind ran in the same tracts, sent a banana which is a sign of peace. In the meantime factions grew and multiplied. One chief counselled his followers to take their cattle and women and seek to conquer another tribe to the south-west; another wished to go west. But each and every follower began to bargain with his chief for disproportionate rewards for service. Two chiefs and five hundred men started to the south-west, but they returned because they had met in their path the skeleton of a slain elephant, which is, as everybody knows, a sure sign of disaster.
Bakahenzie sent runners far and wide to discover Bakuma. As she could not be found he concluded that she had been killed or taken as a slave and urged the warriors to fight. Zalu Zako immediately desired the anointing to be delayed in order that he should not be debarred from fighting. Bakahenzie, none too sure of his authority, was compelled to acquiesce. Marufa, observing that the arrow was still in the air, took to his non-committal incantations again. Bakahenzie strove to keep the warriors and chiefs occupied by dissension until the result of his challenge to battle should mature. Yabolo, equally perturbed for his influence, did exactly the same with the banana in view.
Yabolo and MYalu contemplated going in to make submission, but the former wished to negotiate through Sakamata for the best terms, although he tried to persuade MYalu to go; but MYalu was suspicious and would not do so without Yabolo. But at the hour of [pg 140] the monkey one morning came a terrified goatherd crying news that cut the tangled threads of their intrigues as a sword cuts a goat’s throat. The white god, Eyes-in-the-hands, was within an arrow’s flight of the village of Yagonyana.
Consternation ensued. The village and the temporary camp of grass huts buzzed and hummed. Zalu Zako dashed out, sword and spear in hand, and in the glow of the awakened fires harangued the warriors, urged that they should make a swift detour through the forest and attack the white man as he entered the village. Bakahenzie supported this plan of campaign. MYalu, stung by the recollection of the loss of many tusks to the invader, incontinently abandoned Yabolo and pressed for a frontal attack. Yabolo contended that they send an envoy to make terms, but not very insistently. In spite of the assurance of Sakamata, he was suspicious of the new god’s gentle ways. Marufa, the wise, collected those of his household who had remained with him, and quietly made his way to the forest.
But Zalu Zako’s martial spirit was overcome by the clamour of those who would flee before worse befell, crying that the white god, Eyes-in-the-hands, would eat them all up with the terrible monsters who coughed flames and death; others screeched that the uniformed devils were spirits of the night and therefore invincible; for always they came in the dark. So they hesitated, shouted and argued. Then came a scout screaming that the enemy was upon them, corroborated by a vicious cough.
A pom-pom shell landed in the midst of the crowded village. Zalu Zako, Bakahenzie and their small [pg 141] following were nearly swept away in the rush of five thousand odd warriors in flight. From the forest they watched with awestruck eyes the burning of the village.