In Desert and Wilderness

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

"How far is Luela from here?" he asked.

"A half day's journey."

"Listen, then! we will convey the 'bibi' there at once, after which I shall ride on the King and drive away the Samburus from your father's boma. You shall ride with me and shall fight with them."

"Kali will kill them with the rifle!"

And passing at once from despair to joy, he began to leap, laugh, and thank Stas with as much ardor as though the victory was already achieved. But further outbursts of gratitude and mirth were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors, whom he had gathered together during his scouting expedition and whom he commanded to appear before the white master. They numbered about three hundred; they were armed with shields of hippopotamus leather, with javelins and knives. Their heads were dressed with feathers, baboon manes, and ferns. At the sight of an elephant in the service of a man, at the sight of the white faces, Saba, and the horses, they were seized by the same fear and the same amazement which had possessed the negroes in those villages through which the children previously passed. But Kali warned them in advance that they would behold the "Good Mzimu" and the mighty master "who kills lions, who killed a wobo, whom the elephant fears, who crushes rocks, lets loose fiery snakes," etc. So, instead of running away, they stood in a long row in silence, full of admiration, with the whites of their eyes glistening, uncertain whether they should kneel or fall on their faces. But at the same time they were full of faith that if these extraordinary beings would help them then the victories of the Samburus would soon end. Stas rode along the file on the elephant, just like a commander who is reviewing his army, after which he ordered Kali to repeat his promise that he would liberate Fumba, and issued an order that they should start for Luela.

Kali rode with a few warriors in advance to announce to the women of both tribes that they would have the inexpressible and unheard-of pleasure of seeing the "Good Mzimu," who would arrive on an elephant. The matter was so extraordinary that even those women who, being members of the Wahima tribe, recognized Kali as the lost heir to the throne, thought that he was jesting with them and were surprised that he wanted to jest at a time that was so heavy for the whole tribe and Fumba. When, however, after the lapse of a few hours they saw a gigantic elephant approaching the ramparts and on it a white palanquin, they fell into a frenzy of joy and received the "Good Mzimu," with such shouts and such yells that Stas at first mistook their voices for an outburst of hatred, and the more so as the unheard-of ugliness of the negresses made them look like witches.

But these were manifestations of extraordinary honor. When Nell's tent was set in a corner of the market-place under the shade of two thick trees, the Wahima and Samburu women decorated it with garlands and wreaths of flowers, after which they brought supplies of food that would have sufficed a month, not only for the divinity herself but for her retinue. The enraptured women even prostrated themselves before Mea, who, attired in rosy percale and a few strings of blue beads, as a humble servant of the Mzimu, appeared to them as a being far superior to the common negresses.

Nasibu, out of regard for his childish age, was admitted behind the rampart and at once took advantage of the gifts brought for Nell so conscientiously that after an hour his little abdomen resembled an African war drum.

XX

Stas, after a brief rest under the ramparts of Luela, started with Kali before sunset at the head of three hundred warriors for Fumba's boma, for he wanted to attack the Samburus during the night, relying upon the fact that in the darkness the fiery snakes would create a greater sensation. The march from Luela to Mount Boko, on which Fumba was defending himself, counting the rests, required nine hours, so that they appeared before the fortress at about three o'clock in the morning. Stas halted the warriors and, having ordered them to preserve the deepest silence, began to survey the situation. The summit of the mountain on which the defenders had sought refuge was dark; on the other hand the Samburus burnt a multitude of camp-fires. Their glare illuminated the steep walls of the rock and the gigantic trees growing at its foot. From a distance came the hollow sounds of drums and the shouts and songs of warriors who evidently were not sparing in their indulgence of pombe,* [* A beer of millet with which the negroes intoxicate themselves.] desiring already to celebrate a near and decisive victory. Stas advanced at the head of his division still farther, so that finally not more than a hundred paces separated him from the last camp-fires. There were no signs of camp sentinels and the moonless night did not permit the savages to catch sight of the King who, besides, was screened by the underwood. Stas, sitting on his neck, quietly issued the final orders, after which he gave Kali the signal to light one of the sky-rockets. A red ribbon flew up, hissing, high in the dark sky, after which, with an explosive sound, it scattered into a bouquet of red, blue, and golden stars. All voices became hushed and a moment of gloomy silence ensued. A few seconds later two more fiery snakes flew out, as though with an infernal hiss, but this time they were aimed horizontally directly at the Samburu camp; simultaneously resounded the King's roar and the loud cries of the three hundred Wahimas who, armed with assagais,* [* Negro spears.] maces, and knives, rushed ahead with irrepressible speed. A battle began, which was the more terrible because it took place in the darkness, as all the camp-fires in the confusion were at once trampled out. But, at the very beginning, blind terror at the sight of the fiery snakes seized the Samburus. What was happening passed entirely beyond their understanding. They only knew that they were attacked by some terrible beings and that horrible and unavoidable destruction threatened them. A greater part of them ran away before they could be reached by the spears and maces of the Wahimas. A hundred and a few tens of warriors, whom Mamba succeeded in rallying about him, offered stubborn resistance; when, however, in the flashes of the shots, they saw a gigantic beast and on him a person dressed in white, and when their ears were dinned with the reports of the weapon which Kali from time to time discharged, their hearts sank. Fumba on the mountain, seeing the first sky-rocket, which burst in the heights, fell on the ground from fright and lay as though dead for a few minutes. But, regaining consciousness, he imagined from the desperate yells of the warriors one thing, namely, that some kind of spirits were exterminating the Samburus below. Then the thought flashed through his mind that if he did not come to the aid of those spirits, he might incur their wrath, and as the extermination of the Samburus was his salvation, he mustered all his warriors about him and sallied forth from a secret side exit of the boma and cut off the road of a greater part of the fugitives. The battle now changed into a massacre. The Samburu drums ceased to beat. In the darkness, which was rent only by the red flashes cast by Kali's rifle, resounded the howls of the men being killed, the hollow blows of the maces against shields and the groans of the wounded. Nobody begged for mercy, for mercy is unknown to negroes. Kali, from a fear that in the darkness and confusion he might wound his own people, finally ceased to fire, and seizing Gebhr's sword rushed with it into the midst of the enemies. The Samburus could now flee from the mountains towards their frontiers only by way of one wide pass, but as Fumba blocked this pass with his warriors, out of the whole host only those were safe who, throwing themselves upon the ground, permitted themselves to be taken alive, though they knew that a cruel slavery awaited them, or even immediate death at the hands of the victors. Mamba defended himself heroically until a blow of a mace crushed his skull. His son, young Faru, fell into Fumba's hand, who ordered him bound, as a future sacrifice of gratitude to the spirits which had come to his assistance.