“No,” said Jerry, “if you want it you must go there. Fear nothing. Would I, one of your own people, betray you?”
“True!” exclaimed Babemba. “By your talk and your face you are a Mazitu. How came you—well, we will speak of that afterwards. I am very thirsty. I will come. Soldiers, sit down and watch, and if any harm happens to me, avenge it and report to the king.”
Now, while all this was going on, I had made Hans and Sammy open one of the boxes and extract therefrom a good-sized mirror in a wooden frame with a support at the back so that it could be stood anywhere. Fortunately it was unbroken; indeed, our packing had been so careful that none of the looking-glasses or other fragile things were injured. To this mirror I gave a hasty polish, then set it upright upon the table.
Old Babemba came along rather suspiciously, his one eye rolling over us and everything that belonged to us. When he was quite close it fell upon the mirror. He stopped, he stared, he retreated, then drawn by his overmastering curiosity, came on again and again stood still.
“What is the matter?” called his second in command from the ranks.
“The matter is,” he answered, “that here is great magic. Here I see myself walking towards myself. There can be no mistake, for one eye is gone in my other self.”
“Advance, O Babemba,” cried the doctor who had tried to drink all the coffee, “and see what happens. Keep your spear ready, and if your witch-self attempts to harm you, kill it.”
Thus encouraged, Babemba lifted his spear and dropped it again in a great hurry.
“That won’t do, fool of a doctor,” he shouted back. “My other self lifts a spear also, and what is more all of you who should be behind are in front of me. The holy drink has made me drunk; I am bewitched. Save me!”
Now I saw that the joke had gone too far, for the soldiers were beginning to string their bows in confusion. Luckily at this moment, the sun at length came out almost opposite to us.