‘Katongo tells the truth,’ said the old man ‘so spake the vision.’
‘And the True Dreamer said, “Who shall be his chief priest and interpret his meaning to the multitude?” And the vision answered, “You yourself, O True Dreamer; and at your right hand shall stand the young man Katongo, who is foolish, but full of zeal.”’
‘All this was so,’ said the old man. ‘And, furthermore, the messenger told me the rites by which the God with Two Names may be propitiated. These rites are a secret which it is unlawful to reveal till the time be come. But should any of them be left undone, pestilence and destruction will fall on the whole tribe.’
The True Dreamer arose and went back to his house. The news spread through the tribe, and there was great rejoicing. The old king was promptly clubbed on the head, and the priests, attended by the state conch-blowers and heralds, proclaimed the accession of the new monarch under the title of King Dwala, Him-of-Two-Names, both unknown; drums were beaten, hogs were killed, and the tribe gave itself up to frenzies of loyalty and large draughts of the fermented juice of the mowa-tree.
The Colonel, terrified by the noise, withdrew further into the forest, and did not dare to return for several days. His absence gave no one but the priests the least concern, as his place was efficiently filled by a painted image of ugly and imposing aspect.
Preparations were hurried on for solemnising the nuptials of the new monarch—or the image—at the new moon, to the sacred sago-tree which stood in the middle of the place of assembly.
Politically speaking, the result of all these events was that the war party had captured the machine. The question which divided the Soochings at this time was the relation to be adopted by the tribe towards the gold-diggers who had lately penetrated into the Sooching forest. Many members of the tribe looked upon the miners as harmless idiots, bound by the curse of some more powerful magician to sweat at a spade, and too stupid to guard their treasures of wonderful mugs and tins and nails and even large pieces of corrugated iron from the clumsiest of thieves; but the seriously-minded tribesmen, and especially the religious party, penetrated their hidden motive of digging up the Spirit of Tree-Vigour, and bringing upon the Sooching forest that same blight of sterility which followed the track of the white men wherever they went. Nothing, in their view, could appease the already irritated Spirit but the wholesale destruction of these desecrators.
The Colonel’s continued absence put the war party in a dangerous position; the more so as a Jew from the mining camp arrived at this time with a little cartload of looking-glasses and whisky in the village, and brought over a number of wobblers to the party of peace. The True Dreamer worked hard for his party, dreaming judicious dreams by night, and organising search parties in the daytime for the purpose of bringing the new king to his throne.
The Colonel watched the search parties with interest, and at last had the courage to follow one of them back to the edge of the camp. That night, as he was amusing himself by the well in the moonlight, he was astonished at hearing a low clear whistle, and seeing men approaching him slowly from every side with deep obeisances; he had never yet seen human beings in this attitude, which seemed to be copied from the other animals. But it appeared that they meant kindly by it, and he let them approach until they made a small circle about him. A gaunt old man stood before him with arms upraised to the sky, pouring forth a torrent of incomprehensible words. Not knowing what was expected of him, the Colonel took a mug that lay beside him, dipped it in the tank, and handed it to the old man, whose eyes gushed over with tears of delight at this sign of favour; while the rest made a clucking noise with their tongues and said:
‘Dwala malana!’—which means, ‘Glory to Him-of-Two-Names.’