THE SECOND TRIAL BY FIRE
When this momentous discussion was finished, as usual Owen preached
before the king, expounding the Scriptures and taking for his subject
the duty of faith. As he went back to his hut he saw that the snake
which John had killed had been set upon a pole in that part of the
Great Place which served as a market, and that hundreds of natives were
gathered beneath it gesticulating and talking excitedly.
“See the work of Hokosa,” he thought to himself. “Moses set up a serpent
to save the people; yonder wizard sets up one to destroy them.”
That evening Owen had no heart for his labours, for his mind was heavy
at the prospect of the trial which lay before him. Not that he cared for
his own life, for of this he scarcely thought; it was the prospects of
his cause which troubled him. It seemed much to expect that Heaven again
should throw over him the mantle of its especial protection, and yet
if it did not do so there was an end of his mission among the People of
Fire. Well, he did not seek this trial--he would have avoided it if
he could, but it had been thrust upon him, and he was forced to choose
between it and the abandonment of the work which he had undertaken with
such high hopes and pushed so far toward success. He did not choose the
path, it had been pointed out to him to walk upon; and if it ended in a
precipice, at least he would have done his best.
As he thought thus John entered the hut, panting.
“What is the matter?” Owen asked.
“Father, the people saw and pursued me because of the death of that
accursed snake. Had I not run fast and escaped them, I think they would
have killed me.”
“At least you have escaped, John; so be comforted and return thanks.”
“Father,” said the man presently, “I know that you are great, and can do
many wonderful things, but have you in truth power over lightning?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because a great tempest is brewing, and if you have not we shall
certainly be killed when we stand yonder on the Place of Fire.”
“John,” he said, “I cannot speak to the lightning in a voice which it
can hear. I cannot say to it ‘go yonder,’ or ‘come hither,’ but He Who
made it can do so. Why do you tempt me with your doubts? Have I not
told you the story of Elijah the prophet and the priests of Baal? Did
Elijah’s Master forsake him, and shall He forsake us? Also this is
certain, that all the medicine of Hokosa and his wizards will not turn a
lightning flash by the breadth of a single hair. God alone can turn it,
and for the sake of His cause among these people I believe that He will
do so.”
Thus Owen spoke on till, in reproving the weakness of another, he felt
his own faith come back to him and, remembering the past and how he
had been preserved in it, the doubt and trouble went out of his mind to
return no more.
The third day--the day of trial--came. For sixty hours or more the
heat of the weather had been intense; indeed, during all that time the
thermometer in Owen’s hut, notwithstanding the protection of a thick
hatch, had shown the temperature to vary between a maximum of 113 and a
minimum of 101 degrees. Now, in the early morning, it stood at 108.
“Will the storm break to-day?” asked Owen of Nodwengo, who came to visit
him.
“They say so, Messenger, and I think it by the feel of the air. If so,
it will be a very great storm, for the heaven is full of fire. Already
Hokosa and the doctors are at their rites upon the plain yonder, but
there will be no need to join them till two hours after midday.”
“Is the cross ready?” asked Owen.
“Yes, and set up. It is a heavy cross; six men could scarcely carry it.
Oh! Messenger, I am not afraid--and yet, have you no medicine? If not,
I fear that the lightning will fall upon the cross as it fell upon the
pole and then----”
“Listen, Nodwengo,” said Owen, “I know a medicine, but I will not use
it. You see that waggon chain? Were one end of it buried in the ground
and the other with a spear blade made fast to it hung to the top of the
cross, we could live out the fiercest storm in safety. But I say that
I will not use it. Are we witch doctors that we should take refuge in
tricks? No, let faith be our shield, and if it fail us, then let us die.
Pray now with me that it may not fail us.”
*****
It was afternoon. All round the Field of Fire were gathered thousands
upon thousands of the people of the Amasuka. The news of this duel
between the God of the white man and their god had travelled far and
wide, and even the very aged who could scarcely crawl and the little
ones who must be carried were collected there to see the issue. Nor had
they need to fear disappointment, for already the sky was half hidden
by dense thunder-clouds piled ridge on ridge, and the hush of the coming
tempest lay upon the earth. Round about the meteor stone which they
called a god, each of them stirring a little gourd of medicine that was
placed upon the ground before him, but uttering no word, were gathered
Hokosa and his followers to the number of twenty. They were all of them
arrayed in their snakeskin dresses and other wizard finery. Also each
man held in his hand a wand fashioned from a human thigh-bone. In front
of the stone burned a little fire, which now and again Hokosa fed with
aromatic leaves, at the same time pouring medicine from his bowl upon
the holy stone. Opposite the symbol of the god, but at a good distance
from it, a great cross of white wood was set up in the rock by a spot
which the witch-doctors themselves had chosen. Upon the banks of the
stream, in the place apart, were the king, his councillors and the
regiment on guard, and with them Owen, the Prince Nodwengo and John.
“The storm will be fierce,” said the king uneasily, glancing at the
western sky, upon whose bosom the blue lightnings played with an
incessant flicker. Then he bade those about him stand back, and calling
Owen and the prince to him, said: “Messenger, my son tells me that your
wisdom knows a plan whereby you may be preserved from the fury of the
tempest. Use it, I pray of you, Messenger, that your life may be saved,
and with it the life of the only son who is left to me.”
“I cannot,” answered Owen, “for thus by doubting Him I should tempt my
Master. Still, it is not laid upon the prince to accompany through this
trial. Let him stay here, and I alone will stand beneath the cross.”
“Stay, Nodwengo,” implored the old man.
“I did not think to live to hear my father bid me, one of the royal
blood of the Amasuka, to desert my captain in the hour of battle and
hide myself in the grass like a woman,” answered the prince with a
bitter smile. “Nay, it may be that death awaits me yonder, but nothing
except death shall keep me back from the venture.”
“It is well spoken,” said the king; “be it as you will.”
Now the company of wizards, leaving their medicine-pots upon the ground,
formed themselves in a treble line, and marching to where the king
stood, they saluted him. Then they sang the praises of their god, and in
a song that had been prepared, heaped insult upon the God of the
white man and upon the messenger who preached Him. To all of this Owen
listened in silence.
“He is a coward!” cried their spokesman; “he has not a word to say. He
skulks there in his white robes behind the majesty of the king. Let him
go forth and stand by his piece of wood. He dare not go! He thinks the
hillside safer. Come out, little White Man, and we will show you how
we manage the lightnings. Ah! they shall fly about you like spears in
battle. You shall throw yourself upon the ground and shriek in terror,
and then they will lick you up and you shall be no more, and there will
be an end of you and the symbol of your God.”
“Cease your boastings,” said the king shortly, “and get you back to your
place, knowing that if it should chance that the white man conquers you
will be called upon to answer for these words.”
“We shall be ready, O King,” they cried; and amidst the cheers of the
vast audience they marched back to their station, still singing the
blasphemous mocking song.
Now to the west all the heavens were black as night, though the
eastern sky still showed blue and cloudless. Nature lay oppressed with
silence--silence intense and unnatural; and so great was the heat that
the air danced visibly above the ironstone as it dances about a glowing
stove. Suddenly the quietude was broken by a moaning sound of wind;
the grass stirred, the leaves of the trees began to shiver, and an icy
breath beat upon Owen’s brow.
“Let us be going,” he said, and lifting the ivory crucifix above his
head, he passed the stream and walked towards the wooden cross. After
him came the Prince Nodwengo, wearing his royal dress of leopard skin,
and after him, John, arrayed in a linen robe.
As the little procession appeared to their view some of the soldiers
began to mock, but almost instantly the laughter died away. Rude as
they were, these savages understood that here was no occasion for their
mirth, that the three men indeed seemed clothed with a curious dignity.
Perhaps it was their slow and quiet gait, perhaps a sense of the errand
upon which they were bound; or it may have been the strange unearthly
light that fell upon them from over the edge of the storm cloud; at the
least, as the multitude became aware, their appearance was impressive.
They reached the cross and took up their stations there, Owen in front
of it, Nodwengo to the right, and John to the left.
Now a sharp squall of strong wind swept across the space, and with it
came a flaw of rain. It passed by, and the storm that had been muttering
and growling in the distance began to burst. The great clouds seemed to
grow and swell, and from the breast of them swift lightnings leapt, to
be met by other lightnings rushing upwards from the earth. The air was
filled with a tumult of uncertain wind and a hiss as of distant rain.
Then the batteries of thunder were opened, and the world shook with
their volume. Down from on high the flashes fell blinding and incessant,
and by the light of them the fire-doctors could be seen running to and
fro, pointing now here and now there with their wands of human bones,
and pouring the medicines from their gourds upon the ground and upon
each other. Owen and his two companions could be seen also, standing
quietly with clasped hands, while above them towered the tall white
cross.
At length the storm was straight over head. Slowly it advanced in
its awe-inspiring might as flash after flash, each more fantastic and
horrible than the last, smote upon the floor of ironstone. It played
about the shapes of the doctors, who in the midst of it looked like
devils in an inferno. It crept onwards towards the station of the cross,
but--_it never reached the cross_.
One flash struck indeed within fifty paces of where Owen stood. Then of
a sudden a marvel happened, or something which to this day the People of
Fire talk of as a marvel, for in an instant the rain began to pour like
a wall of water stretching from earth to heaven, and the wind changed.
It had been blowing from the west, now it blew from the east with the
force of a gale.
It blew and rolled the tempest back upon itself, causing it to return
to the regions whence it had gathered. At the very foot of the cross
its march was stayed; there was the water-line, as straight as if it had
been drawn with a rule. The thunder-clouds that were pressed forward met
the clouds that were pressed back, and together they seemed to come
to earth, filling the air with a gloom so dense that the eye could not
pierce it. To the west was a wall of blackness towering to the heavens;
to the east, light, blue and unholy, gleamed upon the white cross and
the figures of its watchers.
For some seconds--twenty or more--there was a lull, and then it
seemed as though all hell had broken loose upon the world. The wall of
blackness became a wall of flame, in which strange and ardent shapes
appeared ascending and descending; the thunder bellowed till the
mountains rocked, and in one last blaze, awful and indescribable, the
skies melted into a deluge of fire. In the flare of it Owen thought that
he saw the figures of men falling this way and that, then he staggered
against the cross for support and his senses failed him.
*****
When they returned again, he perceived the storm being drawn back from
the face of the pale earth like a pall from the face of the dead, and he
heard a murmur of fear and wonder rising from ten thousand throats.
*****
Well might they fear and wonder, for of the twenty and one wizards
eleven were dead, four were paralysed by shock, five were flying in
their terror, and one, Hokosa himself, stood staring at the fallen, a
very picture of despair. Nor was this all, for the meteor stone with a
human shape which for generations the People of Fire had worshipped as a
god, lay upon the plain in fused and shattered fragments.
The people saw, and a sound as of a hollow groan of terror went up from
them. Then they were silent. For a while Owen and his companions were
silent also, since their hearts were too full for speech. Then he
said:--
“As the snake fell harmless from the hand of Paul, so has the lightning
turned back from me, who strive to follow in his footsteps, working
death and dismay among those who would have harmed us. May forgiveness
be theirs who were without understanding. Brethren, let us return and
make report to the king.”
Now, as they had come, so they went back; first Owen with the crucifix,
next to him Nodwengo, and last of the three John. They drew near to the
king, when suddenly, moved by a common impulse, the thousands of the
people upon the banks of the stream with one accord threw themselves
upon their knees before Owen, calling him God and offering him worship.
Infected by the contagion, Umsuka, his guard and his councillors
followed their example, so that of all the multitude Hokosa alone
remained upon his feet, standing by his dishonoured and riven deity.
“Rise!” cried Owen aghast. “Would you do sacrilege, and offer worship to
a man? Rise, I command you!”
Then the king rose, saying:--
“You are no man, Messenger, you are a spirit.”
“He is a spirit,” repeated the multitude after him.
“I am _not_ a spirit, I am yet a man,” cried Owen again, “but the Spirit
Whom I serve has made His power manifest in me His servant, and your
idols are smitten with the sword of His power, O ye Sons of Fire! Hokosa
still lives, let him be brought hither.”
They fetched Hokosa, and he stood before them.
“You have seen, Wizard,” said the king. “What have you to say?”
“Nothing,” answered Hokosa, “save that victory is to the Cross, and to
the white man who preaches it, for his magic is greater than our magic.
By his command the tempest was stayed, and the boasts we hurled fell
back upon our heads and the head of our god to destroy us.”
“Yes,” said the king, “victory is to the Cross, and henceforth the Cross
shall be worshipped in this land, or at least no other god shall be
worshipped. Let us be going. Come with me, Messenger, Lord of the
Lightning.”