So he ran ahead to carry the news to the town before the corpse should arrive there. When he reached the town, he first told his wife about it. She advised him, “If that is so, don’t go and tell this bad news to the king; a servant like you should not be the bearer of ill news.” But he still said, “No, but I’m going to tell the father.” His wife insisted, “Do not do it! With those two beloved children, if the news be not true, the parents will make trouble for you!” But Esĕrĕngila started to tell, and by the time he had finished his story the company with the corpse were near enough for the people of the town to hear all the words of Osongo’s song of mourning.
Obĕngi’s father and mother were so excited with grief that their people had to hold them fast as if they were prisoners, to prevent them injuring themselves. The funeral company all went up to the king’s house, and laid down the body of his son; and Osongo’s mother, still tied, was led into the house.
The townspeople were all excited, shouting and weeping. Some began to give directions about the making of a fine coffin. But Osongo said, “No, I don’t want him to be put into a coffin yet, because when my brother was alive we had many confidences and secrets, and now that he is dead, I have somewhat of a work to do before he is buried. Let the corpse wait awhile.” So he asked them all to leave the corpse alone while he went out of the town for a short time.
Then he went away to the village of Ra-Marânge, and said to him, “I’m in great trouble, and indeed I need your help.” The prophet replied, “Child, I am too old; I am not making medicine now. Go to Ogula-y‘-impazya-vazya, and repeat your story to him; he will help you.”
Ra-Marânge showed him the way to Ogula-y‘-impazya-vazya’s place. He went, and had not gone far when he found it. Going to the magician, Osongo said, “I’m in trouble, and have come to you.” As soon as he had said this, Ogula-y‘-impazya-vazya made his magic fire, and stepped into it. Osongo was frightened, thinking, “I’ve come to this man, and he is about to kill himself for me”; and he ran away. But he had not gone far, when he heard the magician’s nkendo (a witchcraft bell) ringing, and his voice calling to him, “If you have come for medicine, come back; but if for anything else, then run away.” So Osongo returned quickly, and found that the old magician had emerged from his fire and was waiting for him. Osongo told his story of his brother’s death, and said he wanted direction what to do. Ogula-y‘-impazya-vazya gave him medicine for a certain purpose, and told him what to do and how to do it.
When Osongo came back with the medicine, he entered his father’s house, into the room where his brother’s corpse was lying, and ordered every one to leave him alone for a while. They all left the room. He closed the door, and following the directions given him by Ogula-y‘-impazya-vazya, he brought Obĕngi to life again.
Now came a question what was to be done with Ngwe-nkonde, the attempted murderess. It was demanded that her throat should be cut, and that her body, weighted with stones, should be flung into the river. “For,” said Osongo, “I will not own such a mother; she is very bad. Obĕngi’s mother shall be my mother.” It was decided so. And Ra-Mborakinda said to Ngwe-vazya, “You step up to the queen’s seat with your two sons” (meaning Osongo and Obĕngi).
And Ngwe-vazya became head-wife, and was very kind and attentive to both sons.
And the matter ended.
VIII. Jĕki and his Ozâzi.