After Bakahenzie, Marufa, Yabolo and two other master magicians had released the souls of the dead King by making incisions in the body with a sacred spear to the thrumming of the drums, the mighty groaning of the other wizards, and the persistent wailing of the dead man's wives, the corpse was borne by twelve doomed slaves to the temple and there interred with the gouts of blood shed by the prophetic goat, the nail parings and hair clippings of his lifetime, and his personal effects.

Upon the hill of MFunya MPopo, soon to be a temple and sanctuary, sat Kawa Kendi beside the New Fire tended by Kingata Mata, facing Zalu Zako, MYalu and the lay chiefs, while upon his own hill slaves were tearing down his old hut, erecting a temporary palisade around the quarters of his wives who were forever forbidden to him, and beginning the building of the new temple.

As the violet shadows were creeping from one hut to another did Bakahenzie and his satellites return from the ghoulish offices of the dead. Zalu Zako, the chiefs and magicians arose to the wild beating of the drums and the wailing chant of the hereditary troubadour with the five stringed lyre. With Kingata Mata carrying a brand of the newly lighted sacred fire, was Kawa Kendi led in procession through the deserted village to his sacred home.

Under the hard stars set in a dry sapphire, the fire cast yellow flickers upon the carven features of Kawa Kendi. In the still heat the distant wailing of the women from the opposite hill drifted into the continuous throb of the drums, the plaintive wail of the singer, and the hysterical groaning of the magicians, yelling ferociously ever and again to intimidate the baulked spirits around the magic circle.

Then was a white goat, previously selected from the flock of Kawa Kendi, slain by Zalu Zako, disembowelled by Bakahenzie, and the entrails rubbed upon the brow, the chest and the right arm of the slayer of man, a ceremony of purification designed to protect the royal executioner by appeasing the justly angry spirits of the dead; to Marufa were given other parts of the slain beast to smear likewise upon Zalu Zako, the son; and Yabolo ran screaming with portions to the quarters of the women of Kawa Kendi: for must every blood relative be so enchanted lest the vengeful ghost seek subst.i.tute victims.

As a pallid moon rose, as if fearfully, above the deep ultramarine of the banana fronds, was a magic potion brewed from certain herbs in enchanted water, with which the King, Zalu Zako, his son, and the King's wives were laved. Amid a tempest of screams and drums rose Kawa Kendi purified, to be driven by Bakahenzie and the wizards back to the hill of his father, leaving the a.s.sembled lay chiefs squatting humbly and in dread of the spirits abroad in the night. While the procession leaped and twirled, screamed and groaned to the frantic thrum of the drums through the blue darkness, the magicians ran and pranced through and around the village, seeking any blasphemer who dared to look upon sacred things; banging on hut doors and shaking thatches, the more to terrify the shrinking inhabitants.

Without the gate of the old enclosure all remained, except Bakahenzie and the four wizards who encircled Kawa Kendi and Kingata Mata and hustled them across the clearing. With his back to the dim form of the idol stood Kawa Kendi as behind it grouped the master magicians. From the base Bakahenzie took two large gourds and gave them into the keeping of Kingata Mata.

Came an abrupt cessation of the drums and cries. The wailing of the women behind the temple died. The tense air pulsed with electricity. A c.o.c.k crowed feebly in the village. Then at a rippling splash of the drums and the sudden screaming of the wizards, they began to push the idol. The base had already been loosened in the earth by the slaves. The idol began to totter. Louder screeched the magicians; faster fled the drums. Slowly the idol leaned and subsided on to the shoulders of Kawa Kendi. Grasping the ma.s.s firmly upon his bent back, he bore the burden out of the enclosure and down the hill.

Behind his unsteady steps pranced and yelled the doctors with more prodigious a noise than ever before as they scourged the King's legs and arms with cords of fibre. Through the listening village panted the King.

As he gasped slowly up the hill the thrashing was redoubled. But into the new enclosure the King staggered, let slide the heavy ma.s.s into a hole prepared for the sacred feet and, gleaming blue points of sweat in the faint moon, let out a hoa.r.s.e yell, proving to the a.s.sembly of magicians and chiefs that he was powerful enough to bear the burden of the world and moreover that none could wrest his office from him.

No time was given for the incarnation of a G.o.d to recoup from his labours.

The motive principle of the accusation and for the death of the king was the drought. That only concerned the soul of the tribe in the person of Bakahenzie. For him and his brothers of the inner cult, while certain pretensions of power over the supernatural were for the "good of the people," the truths of magic and divine functions were inviolable. The person of Kawa Kendi, heretofore merely one in whom was a potentiality, became after the purification and "coronation" the very incarnation of the G.o.d. Kawa Kendi had crossed from the comparative safe haven of the potential into divine activity.

Also there were, as ever, political reasons for the hastening of the offices of the G.o.d. Should the new King-G.o.d fail, as his father had done, to accomplish the duties of the rainmaker, then, as no precedent had ever been known for the failure of two kings in succession, an enemy might accuse Bakahenzie of having committed some sacrilege which had displeased the Unmentionable One. Politics and religion are often inseparable.

Therefore, as soon as Zalu Zako had witnessed the ascent of his father into the dangerous zone of the G.o.ds, was he bidden as the victim apparent, to produce the sacred rain-making paraphernalia. From the Keeper of the Fire, Kingata Mata, Zalu Zako received one of the large gourds, which he deposited at the feet of his father squatting before the sacred fire, and retired to his allotted place among the other lay chiefs. Only Bakahenzie and the four of the inner cult were permitted within the enclosure.

Fumbling within the pot Kawa Kendi produced a bundle of twigs tied with banana fibre, which he unbound and cast into the fire. The herbs smouldered and sent up a pungent smoke forming a heavy cloud like some strange blue tree sheltering the form of the idol against the green sky.

Save for the faint wailing of the distant women there was silence, in which an owl screeched harshly, a good omen. Little flames flickered. The smoke grew denser, obliterating the figure of the King. The drums began to mutter, Bakahenzie cried out in a loud voice:

"O great G.o.d, the Unmentionable One! let thy powers be made manifest!"

The Keeper of the Fires came forward upon his hands and thrust the other sacred gourd in front of the King, a deep one containing water, and a wand made from a sacred tree which had upon the end a crook. To the groaning of the magicians, the King took from the one gourd two stones of quartz and granite, the male and the female, and spat upon each one, thus placing part of his royal body upon them; then did he put them on the ground, and pouring water, chanted:

"Go forth, male spirit, with my ghost in thy hands!

Go forth, female soul, with my ghost in thy breast!

Make love together in the shade of great Tarum, Of him whom fear of me hath frozen the breath!"

"Ough! Ough!"

grunted the priests and magicians.

"Go forth, male spirit, with my ghost in thy hand!

Go forth, female soul, with my ghost in thy breast!

Love one another that the crops of our land May marry as well and be as fruitful as thee!"

"Ough! Ough!"

"Go forth, male spirit, with my ghost in thy hand!

Go forth, female soul, with my ghost in thy breast!

Rise high up to heaven and mount on the black back Of the bird of the wet wind: poke your hands in his eyes!"

"Ough! Ough!"

Save for the distant wailing, there was the silence of those waiting for a miracle. In the sky, at the back of the idol, was the paling of dawn.

Suddenly, as if exasperated by the non-obedience of the elements, Kawa Kendi sprang to his feet, with the magic wand in his right hand, turned and stared apparently into the face of the idol. For a full two minutes he stood as if carven, while the doctors and the chiefs moaned dismally.

Around him like a pall still hovered the smoke of the magic fire. From the village a c.o.c.k's challenge was answered from point to point. Then shooting out his right hand, Kawa Kendi made gestures as if hooking something invisible and began to scream furiously:

"Thus do I, the One-not-to-be-mentioned, Drag forth from the belly of heaven The disobedient One, the lazy One!

The insolent One who sinneth in sleep!

The black-snouted One whose udders are choked!

The womanly One whose nipples are dry!

The s.l.u.ttish One who refuseth her milk!

The gorbellied One whose voice is a wind!

Come forth, lest I give thee sorrow and pain!

And make thee to weep the bitterest tears!

Come forth, lest I tear out thy black bosom!

Tear out thy guts for a feast unto Tarum!

Come forth, lest I throw off the yoke of the burden Of the Earth and the Sky upon thy sweating black belly!"

In a slight puff of wind, the smoke, lace-edged with the dawn light, swayed, seeming to twine about the figure of the King as he stood with the wand outheld, as if firmly hooked in the guts of the recalcitrant elements.

Against the rose of the dawn appeared a dark line which increased as the magicians and chiefs moaned and groaned in sympathy with the furious efforts of the rainmaker, who threatened and pulled with the magic crook, so that everybody could see that he was indeed dragging the reluctant clouds from over the end of the earth. As the dark ma.s.s swelled the more he wrestled and screamed abuse at the dilatory spirit of the rain.

And behold, within half an hour, great black spirits sailed across the scarlet sunrise and wept exceeding bitterly; while from the village went up a great shout of praise to the triumphant King still prancing and cursing to such good effect up on the hill.

CHAPTER 5

The same vast balloons of sepia rolled over the lake, vomited a host of liquid ramrods and, after short intervals of brilliant glare, were succeeded by others. The gutters of the station were turned into burbling brooks and the gra.s.s plot into a mora.s.s.

Behind the screen on the south verandah sat zu Pfeiffer in his pink silk pyjamas, a scowl upon his brow. He sipped his cafe cognac distastefully and inhaled a cigarette so fiercely that the heat burned his tongue. He had not slept. Yet the broken nail on the left little finger had been cut and polished. Half the night he had sat before the photograph in the ivory frame, pondering upon, and rehearsing, the past; muttering aloud to Lucille, sometimes words of love and sometimes savage curses; wondering what she was doing and where she was; gritting his teeth at visions which aroused insane jealousy; calculating what the consequences of his action would be were he to obey the impulse that had leaped into his mind in the first flush of pa.s.sion. If he were to release the prisoner the fellow would probably expect an explanation and an apology which was, of course, out of the question. No, he must carry out the thing thoroughly without leaving any chance for the man to make trouble at the coast, or through the Emba.s.sy at Washington; at all costs not through Washington. For him, Birnier merely existed as a person whose feelings mattered nothing.

With the greening of the moon zu Pfeiffer had retired. As he had lain sleeplessly watching the pallor of the dawn he had savagely corroborated the decision. Now the roar of the deluge appeared to him in the form of an abettor to his plan. He watched the grey wall of rain with satisfaction, stroking the left sentry moustache as if to tame the fierce bristles of an outraged dignity. When he had emerged from the bath, the pink of his face appeared to have spread to the whites of his eyes, a fact which Bakunjala had noted with sullen dread.

Between the storms the sun glared yellow upon the smoking earth. Across the square squelched zu Pfeiffer to the orderly room. He grunted at Sergeant Schultz's greeting and sprawled in the chair. When Schultz proffered him some official doc.u.ments he waved them aside irritably.

"Bring the prisoner to the Court, sergeant. I will try him immediately."

"Excellence!" said the sergeant, saluting. "What charge am I to enter against him, Excellence?"

"Arms and liquor running," responded zu Pfeiffer quickly. "I hold papers which prove the case completely; moreover you will see that Ali ben Ha.s.san and others are prepared to testify. But-the charge will be margined as political: not criminal. Understand, sergeant?"

"Perfectly, Excellence. Ali ben Ha.s.san and the others have to testify before your Excellence now?"

"There will be no need."

"Very good, Excellence."

"And, sergeant, what is the personnel of the launch and the prisoner's party?"