According to the words of the Son-of-the-Earthquake, as zu Pfeiffer was officially designated by his men, who placed the actual name under the tabu in token of the acceptance of the magic purple, came a guard to take away MYalu’s first-born as hostage to the village of the sons of chiefs. Seething with red rage MYalu mutely followed Yabolo to the place appointed for their housing. Then on the following afternoon at the time of audience MYalu waited in the broiling heat for three hand’s-spans of the sun without being summoned to the green temple. And thus it was for three days.
But upon the fourth, when MYalu squatted in the general hut in company with Yabolo, Sakamata, and other renegade chiefs, smouldering with bitter resentment, came the pulse of a distant drum, the furious tattoo and long pause, tattoo and long pause, which accompanies the mighty shout at the coronation of a new King-God, “The Fire is lighted!” news that had throbbed from that point within the forest [pg 253] from village to village to the slopes of the Gamballagalla and to the Wamungo country. The perceptible effect upon that circle of bronze figures was a scarcely audible grunt, yet nevertheless the message was like unto a live ember dropped in the dry grass of the cattle country.
That morning one of the renegade chiefs had brought in two others to make their allegiance and received as reward for his fidelity a remittance of one-third of the tax levy upon his property, a policy adopted by zu Pfeiffer calculated to encourage the recruiting of his followers by establishing a reputation for lavish generosity to those who obeyed him, in contrast to his merciless severity to the recalcitrant ones.
An hour later MYalu was summoned from the sweating throng squatted before the line of demon keepers through the giant ebon guards to audience with the Son-of-the-Earthquake. At the entrance as bidden he knelt, for he knew that he would be compelled did he refuse. A white flame was in his heart, but yet the magnificence of the son of the World Trembler and his satellites, the terrible ghosts of the distant white god, with amulets and charms upon his breast, had awed and subdued MYalu. Then came the voice of Sakamata relating that the chief MYalu, son of MBusa, made complaint to the Son-of-the-Earthquake that his slaves, the keepers of the coughing demons, had taken a girl named Bakuma, daughter of Bakala, and that he craved restitution of his property. While this was being translated by the corporal interpreter, MYalu watched the magic flame in the mouth of Eyes-in-the-hands, marvelling greatly at the smoke which emerged. Then said the interpreter:
“The son of the Lord-of-the-World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler who eats up whom 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, saith that when the son of MBusa (MYalu) bringeth three chiefs of the same rank to sit at the Feet then shall the daughter of Bakala return unto him, but in the meantime shall her girdle remain untied. He hath spoken!”
As he finished zu Pfeiffer made the signal of dismissal with his jewelled hand, but MYalu with the throb of that distant drum in his ears, cried out in protest, saying:
“The words of the Son-of-the-Earthquake are like unto spears made of grass!”
The interpreter boggled at the translation of the sentence. Zu Pfeiffer saw a ripple of insubordination. He rapped out an order to have the man taken away and given fifty lashes. Instantly the guards surrounded MYalu, who submitted in sudden misgiving, and led him away to receive the punishment.
Zu Pfeiffer gave orders that the girl Bakuma should be found and called the next case, Kalomato the elderly chief who had had all his property sequestered until he should deliver his eldest son as hostage. He was a slight withered old man with a white tuft of beard and at the hands of the askaris, after considerable endurance, had screamed his submission. Now he hobbled into zu Pfeiffer’s presence with the aid of a stick. Pompously the interpreter recited the list of [pg 255] the titles of the august one, and then dwelt upon the wondrous benefits to be obtained at the magic jewelled hands, and demanded that the old chief “eat the dust” and obey the royal mandate.
But the sharp eyes gazed steadily from their wrinkled sockets with a curious gleam in them as he mumbled that “his soul had wandered” (he had dreamed) “and had met the spirit of Tarum, who had forbidden him to obey the white god.[”]