“Kali be king of the Wa-himas and the Great Man king over Kali.”
His admiration was so great that he all but worshiped Stasch; he made a very low bow to Nell before the assembled people, for, from what he had observed during the journey, he knew that the Great Man was more concerned about the little Bibi than about himself.
After he had solemnly led Stasch and Nell up to the summit where the boma was, he assigned Fumba’s hut to them; it resembled a large shed divided into several rooms. He ordered the Wa-hima women, who accompanied them from Lunla, and who never tired of gazing at the good Msimu, to put vessels of honey and sour milk in the first room, and when he heard that the Bibi, who was very much fatigued from the journey, had fallen asleep, he commanded all the people to keep perfectly quiet, under penalty of having their tongues cut out. He now decided to pay them still greater homage, and so when Stasch appeared before the shed after a short rest, Kali approached, bowed low before him, and said:
“To-morrow Kali will give orders to bury Fumba and to behead as many slaves for Fumba and Kali as there are fingers on both their hands; and to propitiate Bibi and the Great Man Kali will order Faru, the son of Mamba, to be beheaded, and also wengi, wengi other Samburus taken prisoners by the Wa-himas.”
Stasch frowned, and gazing severely into Kali’s eyes, replied:
“I forbid it.”
“Sir,” said the young negro in a trembling voice, “the Wa-himas always behead their prisoners. When the old king dies they behead people; if a young king follows they behead people. If Kali does not command them to be killed the Wa-himas will not believe that Kali is king!”
Stasch looked at him still more severely:
“Well, how’s that?” said he. “And did you not learn anything on Linde Mountain? Are you not a Christian?”
“I am, O Great Man!”