Accustomed as he was to make quick decisions, Stasch knew at once what to do. To release Fumba, to conquer the Samburus, to prevent the Wa-himas from taking too bloody a revenge, to command peace and reunite the antagonists seemed to him absolutely necessary, not only for his own sake, but also for the negroes. “It must be accomplished and it shall be!” he said to himself, and in the meanwhile, to pacify Kali, for whom he felt much sympathy, he explained to him that he by no means refused his assistance.
“How far is it from here to Lunla?” he asked.
“Half a day’s journey.”
“Then listen. We will take Bibi there at once; then I will ride on King and drive the Samburus from your father’s boma. You will ride with me and fight against them.”
“Kali will kill them with the gun.”
His despair changed to joy at once; he began to hop, to laugh, and to thank Stasch with as much enthusiasm as if the victory were already won. Further outbursts of gratitude and joy were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors he had collected during his reconnoitering, and whom he had commanded to appear before the white man. There were about thirty men, armed with shields of hippotamus skins, darts, bows, and knives.
On their heads they wore feathers, manes of baboons, and bouquets of ferns. On beholding an elephant in the service of a human being, on seeing Saba and the horses, they were seized with fear and surprise, just as was the case with the negroes in the villages through which the caravan had previously passed. But Kali had already told them that they would see a good Msimu and a powerful man, “who kills lions, who killed a wobo, of whom the elephant is afraid, who breaks rocks, makes fiery snakes rise in the air, etc.” So instead of running away, they formed in a long line and stood there silent and astonished, the whites of their eyes gleaming, for they were still uncertain whether they ought to kneel down or fall on their faces, but they firmly believed that, with the help of these extraordinary beings, the triumph of the Samburus would soon be at an end. Stasch rode on the elephant through the rank and file of the standing warriors like the leader of an army holding a review; then he made Kali repeat his promise to release Fumba, and gave orders to break camp for Lunla.
Kali rode in front with several warriors to tell the assembled wives of both tribes that they were to have rarer good fortune than ever before, in seeing the “good Msimu,” who was coming to them riding on an elephant. This was such an extraordinary occurrence that even those women of the Wa-hima tribe who recognized Kali as the lost heir to the throne thought that the king’s young son was trying to make fun of them, and they were surprised that he attempted to joke when the whole tribe and Fumba were in such desperate straits. But several hours later, when an enormous elephant with a white palanquin on his back was seen approaching the earthworks, they were nearly beside themselves with joy, and welcomed the good Msimu with such shouts and howls that Stasch mistook the uproar for outbursts of hatred, especially as these negroes were so hideously ugly that they looked like witches.
But this was their way of showing their great admiration. When Nell’s tent was set up in a corner of the market-place, in the shade of two trees with luxuriant foliage, the Wa-hima and the Samburu women adorned it with garlands and wreaths of flowers; then they brought such a quantity of food that it was not only enough for the goddess herself, but also enough to last her retinue for a month. The delighted women even bowed before Mea, who was adorned with pink percale and several strings of blue glass beads, and for this reason, and also because she was Msimu’s servant, she seemed to them to be of much higher rank than an ordinary negress.
Nasibu, on account of his youth, was also allowed within the enclosure, and he immediately profited by the offerings brought to Nell, and applied himself so conscientiously to eating that an hour later his little stomach resembled an African war-drum.