“But who will do you no harm if you will respect the good Msimu!”
“Yancig! Yancig!”
“And if you will bring him dried banana flour, eggs, fresh milk, and honey.”
“Yancig! Yancig!”
“Then come nearer and fall on your faces before the good Msimu.”
M’Rua and his warriors started off, repeating continuously, “Yancig! Yancig!” Then approaching cautiously, they moved a short distance nearer, for their steps were halted by their superstitious fear of the Msimu and the elephant. The sight of Saba also filled them with terror, for they took him to be a “wobo,” a large golden leopard, inhabiting that district and also southern Abyssinia, which the natives fear more than a lion because it is especially fond of human flesh, and is even bold enough to attack armed men. But they were pacified on seeing that the little fat-faced negro held the terrible “wobo” by a leash. This gave them a still higher conception of the power of the good Msimu, and also of the white man, and while looking first at the white elephant, then at Saba, they whispered to each other: “If they have even bewitched wobo, who in the world can struggle successfully against them?” But the most solemn moment was when Stasch, turning to Nell, bowed low and then pushed back the sides of the palanquin, which were arranged like curtains, and showed the good Msimu to the assembled multitude. M’Rua and every one of the warriors fell on their faces, so that their bodies formed a long, living bridge. None dared to move, and all hearts were even more terror-stricken when just at that very moment King, either by order of Stasch or of his own accord, threw up his trunk and began to trumpet very loud, and Saba followed his example in the deepest bass which he could muster. Then there rang out from the hearts of all the warriors a cry like a beseeching groaning: “Aka! Aka! Aka!” and this lasted a long while, until Kali continued:
“Oh, M’Rua and you children of M’Rua! You have now done reverence before the good Msimu; so arise and fill your eyes with the sight of it, for whoever does this, over him will be the blessing of the Great Spirit. Banish all fear from your hearts, and know that where the good Msimu is, human blood can not be shed.”
At these words, and especially after the explanation that on account of the good Msimu none could be carried away by death, M’Rua stood up, and the other warriors followed his example, and they began shyly, but also with great curiosity, to gaze at the gracious godhead. If Kali had asked them a second time, they would certainly have had to confess that neither their fathers nor they had ever seen anything like this. For their eyes were accustomed to mask-like, grotesque figures of idols, made out of wood and hairy cocoanuts, and now there stood before them on the back of the elephant a blonde, gentle, sweet, and smiling godhead, resembling a white bird and a white flower, and so they gained confidence; their hearts breathed freely once more, their thick lips began to smile, and unconsciously stretching their hands out toward the wonderful apparition, they cried:
“Oh, Yancig! Yancig! Yancig!”
But Stasch, who noticed everything that was going on, perceived as soon as Kali stopped speaking that a negro, adorned with a pointed cap of ratskin, had slipped out of line, and, gliding along in the grass like a snake, had gone in the direction of a solitary hut lying at the rear of the enclosure, which was surrounded by a high railing held together by creepers.