CHAPTER XII: Big Medicine
Barega's Village--The Cavern in the Cliff--Mutterings--Under a Cloud--The Bell and the Basket--A Challenge--In the Lists--A Palpable Hit--Vae Victis
For twenty-four hours Tom lay stark and motionless in one position, the flush in his cheeks and his quick breathing showing that he was still alive. Then, as the morning sunlight entered by the narrow doorway, he opened his eyes. Mbutu was in the act of spreading new and fragrant grass upon the floor.
"Mbutu!" came a faint voice from the settle. The boy flung down the grass and ran to his master.
"I am terribly hungry," said Tom.
Mbutu looked for a moment incredulous.
"I am indeed. I think I shall get well after all."
"Neyanzi-gé!" cried Mbutu with a shout of joy, his emotion finding expression in his native tongue. "Neyanzi-gé! I praise too much, sah! I fank too much!"
He was indeed bubbling, over with thankfulness. He went out of the hut and joyously spread the good news. In a few moments the whole camp knew that the muzungu was recovering. The chief ordered Bugandanwe, the big drum, to be struck, and arranged a spear-dance for the evening. A goat was instantly killed to make fresh soup, and some of the spearmen who had carried Tom to the village brought him voluntary offerings of bananas and sweet-potatoes. Even at this moment of excitement the chief displayed an amount of tact which, characteristic as it is of his race, seemed in strange disaccord with the European idea of the negro. He refrained from visiting Tom, and strictly commanded that no one except Mbutu, not even the katikiro, should go inside the hut on any pretence until the invalid's recovery was assured. As for the katikiro himself, he beamed on everybody, and, observing the dark look on the face of the medicine-man, whose prestige was bound to suffer somewhat from the failure of his prediction, he smiled still more broadly. He had no love for Mabruki, and, being a man of shrewd sense, nourished a strong suspicion that he was a humbug; but being also a discreet man, he was very careful never to give verbal expression to his thought.
From that time Tom grew slowly better. At first his limbs seemed paralysed, and he suffered intense pain from bed-sores; but the good food and Mbutu's careful nursing worked improvement day by day. He was soon strong enough to receive short visits from Barega and Msala, and on the tenth day was so far recovered as to have himself carried out before the sun was hot into the fresh air, well wrapped up in leopard and antelope skins, and sheltered by an awning. A week later he first ventured to walk, leaning on Mbutu's arm, and he laughed with something of his old light-heartedness when he saw what thin sticks his legs had become. The few paces from his bed to the outside of the hut seemed a matter of immense labour. But new strength came daily, and in three weeks he was strong enough to walk unassisted through the village.