"So approach and fall on your faces before the 'Good Mzimu!'"
M'Rua and his warriors started and, not ceasing to "yancig" for a moment, advanced between ten and twenty paces, but they approached cautiously, for a superstitious fear of the "Mzimu" and downright terror before the elephant impeded their steps. The sight of Saba startled them anew as they mistook him for a "wobo," that is, a big, yellowish-brown leopard, which lives in that region as well as in Southern Abyssinia, and whom the natives fear more than a lion, for it prefers human flesh above all other, and with unheard-of daring attacks even armed men. They quieted, however, seeing that the little obese negro held the terrible "wobo" on a rope. But they were acquiring a still greater idea of the power of the "Good Mzimu," as well as of the white master, and, staring now at the elephant then at Saba, they whispered to each other: "If they bewitched even the 'wobo' who in the world can oppose them?" But the most solemn moment did not come until Stas, turning to Nell, first bowed profoundly and afterwards drew aside the curtain-like walls of the palanquin and exhibited to the eyes of the crowd the "Good Mzimu." M'Rua and all the warriors fell on their faces so that their bodies formed a long, living deck. Not one of them dared to move, and fear prevailed in all hearts all the more when the King, either at Stas' order or of his own volition, raised his trunk and began to trumpet strongly; and after his example Saba emitted the deepest bass of which he was capable. Then from all breasts issued, resembling entreating groans, "Aka! Aka! Aka!" and this continued until Kali again addressed them.
"Oh, M'Rua, and you, children of M'Rua! You have paid homage to the 'Good Mzimu'; therefore rise, gaze, and fill your eyes, for whoever does that gains the blessing of the Great Spirit. Drive away, also, fear from your breasts and bellies and know that wherever the 'Good Mzimu' sojourns, human blood cannot be shed."
At these words, and particularly as a result of the announcement that in the presence of the "Good Mzimu" no one can meet death, M'Rua rose, and after him the other warriors, and began to gaze, bashfully but eagerly at the kind divinity. Indeed, they would have to acknowledge, if Kali again should ask them about it, that neither their fathers nor they ever had beheld anything like it. For their eyes were accustomed to monstrous figures of idols, made of wood and shaggy cocoanuts, and now there appeared before them on an elephant's back a bright divinity, gentle, sweet, and smiling, resembling a white bird, and at the same time a white flower. So, too, their fears passed away, their breasts breathed freely; their thick lips began to grin and their hands were involuntarily stretched out towards the charming phenomenon.
"Oh! Yancig! Yancig! Yancig!"
Nevertheless, Stas, who was watching everything with the closest possible attention, observed that one of the negroes, wearing a pointed cap of rats' skin, slunk away from the ranks immediately after Kali's last words and, crawling like a snake in the grass, turned to an isolated hut standing apart, beyond the enclosure, but surrounded likewise by a high stockade bound by climbing plants.
In the meantime the "Good Mzimu," though greatly embarrassed by the role of a divinity, at Stas' request stretched out her little hand and began to greet the negroes. The black warriors watched with joy in their eyes each movement of that little hand, firmly believing it possessed powerful "charms," which would protect them and secure them against a multitude of disasters. Some, striking their breasts and hips, said: "Oh, mother, now it will be well—for us and our cows." M'Rua, now entirely emboldened, drew near the elephant and prostrated himself once more before the "Good Mzimu" and after that, bowing to Stas, spoke in the following manner:
"Would the great master, who leads the white divinity on the elephant, be pleased to eat a small piece of M'Rua, and would he consent that M'Rua should eat a small piece of him, in order that they should become brothers, among whom there is no falsehood and treachery?"
Kali at once translated these words, but perceiving from Stas' countenance that he did not have the slightest desire to eat a small piece of M'Rua, turned to the old negro and said:
"Oh, M'Rua! Do you really think that the white master, whom the elephant fears, who holds thunderbolts in his hands, who kills lions, to whom the 'wobo' wags its tail, who lets loose fiery snakes and crushes rocks, could form a blood brotherhood with a mere king? Reflect, oh, M'Rua, whether the Great Spirit would not punish you for your audacity, and whether it is not enough of glory for you if you eat a small piece of Kali, the son of Fumba, the ruler of the Wahimas, and if Kali, the son of Fumba, eats a small piece of you?"