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!”
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.