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).