Witch-Doctors - Part 33
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Part 33

"Thou art the greatest of magicians, O son of the Lord-of-many-Lands,"

responded Bakahenzie in a burst of eloquence. "For thou hast entrapped the spirits of rocks and spears to do thy bidding."

"O G.o.d!" sighed the professor, "what is the use of language?"

CHAPTER 24

A favourite panacea for the results of a stupid action is the sentiment of martyrdom. When MYalu persisted in bitter reproaches to Yabolo and Sakamata the first retorted that the punishment was the result of having committed the sacrilege of kidnapping the sacred Bride of the Banana. Then MYalu considered that not only had he been trapped by one of his own people whom he had deserted, but to add insult to injury he felt he was not understood. Neither Yabolo nor Sakamata, as Bakahenzie, could comprehend a chief and a warrior making such a fuss over a girl. That the confiscation of MYalu's property was an insult they both agreed, but bia.s.sed by both fear of Eyes-in-the-hands and their own interests, they were disposed to pretend that after all such a small matter as the abduction of a girl could be overlooked when committed by the follower of such a powerful G.o.d and magician, as expedience is so often the father of a dispensation. Yet nevertheless in Yabolo, if not in Sakamata, whose hatred of the tribal craft was deep in ratio to the degeneracy of his native code, the outrage upon Bak.u.ma as the Bride of the Banana, while an act of dangerous sacrilege when performed by a Wongolo, violated the half suppressed traditions and kindled a spark of bitter resentment ready to flare up against Eyes-in-the-hands or Sakamata; but being a diplomatist, he concealed that anger, even from himself to a certain degree.

Upon MYalu's arrival in the guest-house to find that Bak.u.ma had been taken, his pa.s.sion had nearly led to his instant destruction, for he had desired to run amok among the grinning askaris. Afterwards, when the efforts of his friends and the hungry points of bayonets had cooled his ardour, he had wanted to rush straight to Eyes-in-the-hands who, according to Sakamata employed as master of ceremony at the daily audiences, would instantly restore Bak.u.ma to him and visit a terrible punishment upon the evil-doer. But the august presence could not be approached so casually: pet.i.tion must be made in orthodox form and the royal pleasure awaited meekly.

According to the words of the Son-of-the-Earthquake, as zu Pfeiffer was officially designated by his men, who placed the actual name under the tabu in token of the acceptance of the magic purple, came a guard to take away MYalu's first-born as hostage to the village of the sons of chiefs.

Seething with red rage MYalu mutely followed Yabolo to the place appointed for their housing. Then on the following afternoon at the time of audience MYalu waited in the broiling heat for three hand's-spans of the sun without being summoned to the green temple. And thus it was for three days.

But upon the fourth, when MYalu squatted in the general hut in company with Yabolo, Sakamata, and other renegade chiefs, smouldering with bitter resentment, came the pulse of a distant drum, the furious tattoo and long pause, tattoo and long pause, which accompanies the mighty shout at the coronation of a new King-G.o.d, "The Fire is lighted!" news that had throbbed from that point within the forest from village to village to the slopes of the Gamballagalla and to the Wamungo country. The perceptible effect upon that circle of bronze figures was a scarcely audible grunt, yet nevertheless the message was like unto a live ember dropped in the dry gra.s.s of the cattle country.

That morning one of the renegade chiefs had brought in two others to make their allegiance and received as reward for his fidelity a remittance of one-third of the tax levy upon his property, a policy adopted by zu Pfeiffer calculated to encourage the recruiting of his followers by establishing a reputation for lavish generosity to those who obeyed him, in contrast to his merciless severity to the recalcitrant ones.

An hour later MYalu was summoned from the sweating throng squatted before the line of demon keepers through the giant ebon guards to audience with the Son-of-the-Earthquake. At the entrance as bidden he knelt, for he knew that he would be compelled did he refuse. A white flame was in his heart, but yet the magnificence of the son of the World Trembler and his satellites, the terrible ghosts of the distant white G.o.d, with amulets and charms upon his breast, had awed and subdued MYalu. Then came the voice of Sakamata relating that the chief MYalu, son of MBusa, made complaint to the Son-of-the-Earthquake that his slaves, the keepers of the coughing demons, had taken a girl named Bak.u.ma, daughter of Bakala, and that he craved rest.i.tution of his property. While this was being translated by the corporal interpreter, MYalu watched the magic flame in the mouth of Eyes-in-the-hands, marvelling greatly at the smoke which emerged. Then said the interpreter:

"The son of the Lord-of-the-World, the Earthquake, the World Trembler who eats up whom he pleases, whose eyes see all things, whose sword slays all things, whose breath is the rain, whose voice is the thunder, whose teeth are the lightning, whose frown is the earthquake, whose smile is the sun, whose ear is the moon, whose eyes are the stars, whose body is the world, saith that when the son of MBusa (MYalu) bringeth three chiefs of the same rank to sit at the Feet then shall the daughter of Bakala return unto him, but in the meantime shall her girdle remain untied. He hath spoken!"

As he finished zu Pfeiffer made the signal of dismissal with his jewelled hand, but MYalu with the throb of that distant drum in his ears, cried out in protest, saying:

"The words of the Son-of-the-Earthquake are like unto spears made of gra.s.s!"

The interpreter boggled at the translation of the sentence. Zu Pfeiffer saw a ripple of insubordination. He rapped out an order to have the man taken away and given fifty lashes. Instantly the guards surrounded MYalu, who submitted in sudden misgiving, and led him away to receive the punishment.

Zu Pfeiffer gave orders that the girl Bak.u.ma should be found and called the next case, Kalomato the elderly chief who had had all his property sequestered until he should deliver his eldest son as hostage. He was a slight withered old man with a white tuft of beard and at the hands of the askaris, after considerable endurance, had screamed his submission. Now he hobbled into zu Pfeiffer's presence with the aid of a stick. Pompously the interpreter recited the list of the t.i.tles of the august one, and then dwelt upon the wondrous benefits to be obtained at the magic jewelled hands, and demanded that the old chief "eat the dust" and obey the royal mandate.

But the sharp eyes gazed steadily from their wrinkled sockets with a curious gleam in them as he mumbled that "his soul had wandered" (he had dreamed) "and had met the spirit of Tarum, who had forbidden him to obey the white G.o.d."

"The shenzie" (savage-used contemptuously) "longs for more fire for his paws, O Bwana," translated the interpreter into Kiswahili.

"What does he say?" demanded zu Pfeiffer.

"He says, Bwana, that he hath dreamed that his G.o.d hath told him that he must not obey you. Indio, Bwana."

"Tell him that I slew his G.o.d, as every man knows."

"The Son-of-the-Earthquake bids thee to know that he hath eaten up thy G.o.d as he eateth up thy warriors when his wrath is aroused. Eat dust that thy beard grow yet longer; stretch thy tongue and thou shalt be eaten entirely and all that is thine!"

"The Fire is lighted," mumbled the old man.

"What does he say?" demanded zu Pfeiffer sharply.

"He attempts to make magic against thee, Bwana," replied the interpreter who knew not the meaning of the phrase.

"Take away the animal," commanded zu Pfeiffer.

The old man was accordingly led out to the further attentions of the soldiery. But during that afternoon zu Pfeiffer became conscious of a subtle air of defiance, a restlessness and exchanging of glances, so that the demon which Bakunjala had once seen so vividly came back to roost somewhere beneath the immaculate uniform.

Neither he nor his sergeants nor their men could speak the Wongolo tongue fluently, so that for interpreter he was compelled to employ one of the corporals. To employ any newly subjected race or tribe as soldiers or in any responsible capacity is unwise, for ties of blood are liable to lead to treachery; to trust to the idiosyncrasies and personal values of any native interpreter is equally impolitic. Zu Pfeiffer and his party were as unaware of the meaning of the phrases exchanged as they were of the message in the throbbing of that distant drum. Between the conqueror and the subjected tribe was a wall denser than any steel; the same wall of tabu of the craft that Birnier was finding so difficult to penetrate.

Every attempt to persuade any of the witch-doctors to disclose the secrets of their craft through the interpreter was doomed to failure; even had zu Pfeiffer been able to speak the dialect as well as Birnier he would never have accomplished it. Yet he tried the impossible. The answer was invariably a mask of ox-like stupidity or the retort that he, being a mighty magician, must needs know that he did but "tickle their feet"! At length, irritated by this persistence, he had Sakamata put to the torture and had for his pains a story in which the idol as the first man was the father of the tribe whom the people believed to have been eaten up literally, so that the conqueror had become the father of the people, having the idol inside him, and the chance that the tale had a faint resemblance to an account by a Frenchman of the superst.i.tions of a West African tribe, convinced him. Implicitly he believed the ingenious yarn invented by a wily witch-doctor to save his hide and the perquisites of his job by placating the white man, the trap into which most white chroniclers have fallen. This conviction, which flattered his sagacity and lulled any suspicions, strengthened his arm in the delivering of punishment and reward.

CHAPTER 25

In the camp of Bakahenzie was the low mutter of the drums by day and night. The village had straggled farther through the forest in each direction save that of the sacred enclosure. Already were some five hundred warriors there and more were pouring in every day. Busy were Bakahenzie and wizards, great and small, in the preparing of amulets of the hearts of lions, livers of leopards and galls of birds, and the brewing of potent decoctions to be smeared with parrot feathers upon the warriors old and young against the evil eye and the spirits of the night.

And dispensed by Bakahenzie and Marufa, from whom had come the original idea, was a special and rather expensive charm against the coughing monsters, which was made by, and invested with, the magic of the King-G.o.d himself, a can key. That morning had there been a special meeting of the craft and the chiefs before the sacred enclosure, where they had looked upon the sacred form of the King-G.o.d and heard the magic elephant's ear give them instructions and a prophecy. Around and about a hundred fires, flickering mystically in the moist cavern of the forest, shuffled and chanted the warriors invoking the aid of Tarum, the spirit of their ancestors.

On the threshold of his hut squatted a sullen Zalu Zako. He had discovered that he had escaped from the river bearing him to the pool of celibacy to find that the bird had been captured by another. Although he had known that before attaining his desire he would have had to extricate Bak.u.ma from the net of the tabu, yet, lover-like and human, that task unconsidered had seemed as easy as stalking a buck in a wood. But the joy of his own release had been dissipated as a cloud of dust by a shower by the news of MYalu's abduction of the girl and his desertion. Zalu Zako was so obsessed by chagrin at this wholly unexpected appearance of a rival that he was inclined to regret that he had ever thought of the move by which he could escape his late doom and rescue Bak.u.ma at the same time.

The illusion of nearness to the desired object had served naturally to whet his appet.i.te; the balked love motive dominated him almost to the exclusion of political affairs. What his official status was now that all precedent had been broken Bakahenzie did not know and had not decided, and Zalu Zako cared less.

Though his faith in most of the tribal theology was unshaken, he did not believe in the sanct.i.ty, or the necessity, of the marriage of the Bride of the Banana, because he had a defensive complex of desire for her that inhibited that belief. Towards MYalu, Zalu Zako's natural reaction was revenge. The matter was how to accomplish that end. To reveal to Bakahenzie that he was the lover of Bak.u.ma would be tantamount to admitting sacrilege in having a pa.s.sion for the Bride of the Banana.

As Zalu Zako was unable to get at the person of his rival the most logical method to his mind was by witchcraft. To obtain some relics of the body of MYalu proved easy, as his wives and slaves being forced to flee, had been unable to burn the deserted hut, thus leaving in the customary place in the thatch some of the hair and nail clippings. Also to find an excuse for the cursing of MYalu was still easier. So at a meeting of the chiefs he rivalled Bakahenzie in denunciation of the absconding chief, insisted that a mighty magic be made against him and produced the necessary corporeal parts upon which to work. So it was that Bakahenzie and Marufa, a quiet watchful Marufa, brewed the magic brew and condemned MYalu by the proxy of his nail clippings to die, a process that took root in a very firm conviction in the mind of Zalu Zako and the others that die MYalu would.

After this satisfaction of the first fierce instinct Zalu Zako was more at liberty to consider other matters, which resulted in an effort to quicken the collective will to recover the tribe's country and possessions, symbolised in Zalu Zako's mind by the delicate figure of Bak.u.ma.

The ceremony of the lighting of the new fires he had attended perfunctorily. To have regret or pity for the white man, Moonspirit who had taken over his doom, never occurred to Zalu Zako, for to him as to Bakahenzie Moonspirit was a mighty magician who, if competent to effect the magic he had already displayed, was capable of looking after himself; moreover, as he had recalled the Unmentionable One, he stood as the incarnation of the tribe, the G.o.d, therefore beyond human consideration.

Bakahenzie's chief regard was, of course, to unify the tribe once more and to rouse those who had submitted to Eyes-in-the-hands to rebellion, which was but a projection of his desire, as that of all patriots, to consolidate his own position and to regain his lost prestige. He had had no need to command that the news be sent abroad. At the ceremony of the Lighting of the Fires the drum notes had been picked up by the nearest village and sent ricocheting across the length and breadth of the country, rippling through the Court of the Son-of-the-Earthquake.

Bakahenzie's confidence had increased tenfold since, by his clever coup, he had locked up the white magician in the G.o.dhead. He believed that Moonspirit was the mightiest magician the world had ever seen, a demi-G.o.d; for had he, Bakahenzie, not seen these wondrous miracles with his own eyes? Had not he, Bakahenzie, captured and tamed this marvellous power to his own ends?

So absolute was this confidence in the powers of the white that Bakahenzie was perfectly sincere, as Mungongo and Bak.u.ma had been, in a.s.serting that the "son of the Lord-of-many-Lands" was pleased to pretend that "an elephant was a mouse," that he "tickled their feet." The only doubt raised in his mind at that interview was whether he could persuade this powerful being to destroy the usurper "out of hand," as it were, or even whether Moonspirit could do so; for it was quite reasonable to him to suppose that even a G.o.d, in fighting another G.o.d, might have to do battle for the victory.

Not in spite of, but because of, this firm faith Bakahenzie took more precautions than ever before to surround the captured G.o.d with the toughest fibres of the tabu to keep him in isolation. Obviously such a valuable prize demanded special precautions. He promulgated an ordinance, in the amplitude of his regained power, that no lay man nor any wizard save the inner cult, whom he dared not forbid, were to approach within sight of the sacred enclosure. In the jungle of his mind lurked the fear that the new G.o.d might be seen to leave the sacred ground and thus render the penalty of death imperative according to the laws of the tabu upon a G.o.d who jeopardised the tribal welfare as MFunya MPopo had done by his failure to bring rain. The belief that he could control a force which he admitted was infinitely greater than he, and of punishing it if it did not behave, was not at all inconsistent to the native mind, nor more illogical than many theological ideas of whites.

At the last interview Bakahenzie had tried to persuade Birnier to permit him to speak into the mighty ear of the magic box; in effect an attempt to gain complete control. But Birnier, when he at length had realised that Bakahenzie's mental development was little greater than Mungongo's, and keenly aware of the isolation to which he was to be subjected, as well as the purpose in the witch-doctor's mind, had resolutely refused. Bakahenzie had accepted the intimation that the G.o.d would not work miracles through any other mouth than that of his incarnation, and after a long cogitative silence had departed without further comment.

But of course he came back again next day, as Birnier had known that he would. Birnier hinted at the expected initiation into the "mysteries" of the craft, particularly of the Festival of the Banana and the other ceremonies connected with his role as King-G.o.d. But Bakahenzie's gaze, fixed upon an object on the toilet table, did not quiver. Birnier repeated the inquiry more bluntly. Said Bakahenzie:

"The fingers of the son of Maliko are hungry to touch the magic knife of the son of the Lord-of-many-Lands."

"d.a.m.n it," muttered Birnier. "That's my favourite!" But he handed the razor to Bakahenzie, saying: "Is not the porridge pot free to all brothers?" Gravely Bakahenzie slipped the safety razor into his loin cloth, mumbled the orthodox adieu and departed.

Although devoted to Birnier as much as ever, Mungongo was bound just as much by the articles of the tabu as any other native; in fact, since his appointment to the high office of Keeper of the Fires, he was if possible more terrified by the bogies of their theology than before. Put one foot out of the sacred ground he would not, for he was convinced that immediately he did so, the ghosts of the dead kings would instantly strangle him. Birnier attempted to persuade him to get into communication with Marufa, but that wily gentleman, grieving over the failure of the coup he had aided Birnier to make, and for the moment completely under the domination of Bakahenzie, who, he knew, had him watched every moment of the day and night, would never approach the Place of the Unmentionable One. Nor dared Zalu Zako break the tabu placed by Bakahenzie. To Bakahenzie and not to Birnier he owed his escape from the dreaded G.o.dhood.

One who had released him might quite reasonably have him back again if annoyed. The few wizards who came to gaze at the imprisoned G.o.d like children at the Zoo, as Birnier had commented, were deaf to any remark, instruction, or plea of the Holy One. So it was that Birnier began to realise that the functions of a G.o.d were so very purely divine that he would never be allowed to interfere in human affairs at all except by grace of the high priest, and possibly he was not the first G.o.d who had found that out.