THE DWARF FOLK.
It was dawn at last. All night it had rained as it can rain in West
Africa, falling on the wide river with a hissing splash, sullen and
continuous. Now, towards morning, the rain had ceased and everywhere
rose a soft and pearly mist that clung to the face of the waters and
seemed to entangle itself like strands of wool among the branches of
the bordering trees. On the bank of the river at a spot that had been
cleared of bush, stood a tent, and out of this tent emerged a white man
wearing a sun helmet and grey flannel shirt and trousers. It was Alan
Vernon, who in these surroundings looked larger and more commanding
than he had done at the London office, or even in his own house of
Yarleys. Perhaps the moustache and short brown beard which he had
grown, or his skin, already altered and tanned by the tropics, had
changed his appearance for the better. At any rate it was changed. So
were his manner and bearing, whereof all the diffidence had gone. Now
they were those of a man accustomed to command who found himself in his
right place.
“Jeekie,” he called, “wake up those fellows and come and
light the oil-stove. I want my coffee.”
Thereon a deep voice was heard speaking in some native tongue and
saying:
“Cease your snoring, you black hogs, and arouse yourselves, for your
lord calls you,” an invocation that was followed by the sound of kicks,
thumps, and muttered curses.
A minute or two later Jeekie himself appeared, and he also was much
changed in appearance, for now instead of his smart, European clothes,
he wore a white robe and sandals that gave him an air at once dignified
and patriarchal.
“Good-morning, Major,” he said cheerfully. “I hope you sleep
well, Major, in this low-lying and accursed situation, which is more
than we do in boat that half full of water, to say nothing of smell of
black man and prevalent mosquito. But the rain it over and gone, and
presently the sun shine out, so might be much worse, no cause at all
complain.”
“I don’t know,” answered Alan, with a shiver. “I
believe that I am fever proof, but otherwise I should have caught it
last night, and—just give me the quinine, I will take five grains for
luck.”
“Yes, yes, for luck,” answered Jeekie as he opened the medicine
chest and found the quinine, at the same time glancing anxiously out of
the corner of his eye at his master’s face, for he knew that the spot
where they had slept was deadly to white men at this season of the
year. “You not catch fever, Little Bonsa,” here he dropped his voice
and looked down at the box which had served Alan for a pillow, “see to
that. But quinine give you appetite for breakfast. Very good chop this
morning. Which you like best? Cold ven’son, or fish, or one of them
ducks you shoot yesterday?”
“Oh! some of the cold meat, I think. Give the ducks to the boatmen, I
don’t fancy them in this hot place. By the way, Jeekie, we leave the Qua
River here, don’t we?”
“Yes, yes, Major, just here. I ’member spot well, for your uncle he
pray on it one whole hour; I pretend pray too, but in heart give thanks
to Little Bonsa, for heathen in those days, quite different now. This
morning we begin walk through forest where it rather dark and cool and
comfortable, that is if we no see dwarf people from whom good Lord
deliver us,” and he bowed towards the box containing Little Bonsa.
“Will those four porters come with us through the forest, Jeekie, as
they promised?”
“Yes, yes, they come. Last night they say they not come, too much afraid
of dwarf. But I settle their hash. I tell them I save up bits of their
hair and toe nails when they no thinking, and I mix it with medicine,
and if they not come, they die every one before they get home. They
think me great doctor and they believe. Perhaps they die if they go on.
If so, I tell them that because they want show white feather, and they
think me greater doctor still. Oh! they come, they come, no fear, or
else Jeekie know reason why. Now, here coffee, Major. Drink him hot
before you go take tub, but keep in shallow water, because crocodile he
very early riser.”
Alan laughed, and departed to “take tub.” Notwithstanding the
mosquitoes that buzzed round him in clouds, the water was cool and
pleasant by comparison with the hot, sticky air, and the feel of it
seemed to rid him of the languor resulting from his disturbed night.
A month had passed since he had left Old Calabar, and owing to the
incessant rains the journeying had been hard. Indeed the white men
there thought that he was mad to attempt to go up the river at this
season. Of course he had said nothing to them of the objects of his
expedition, hinting only that he wished to explore and shoot, and
perhaps prospect for mines. But knowing as they did, that he was an
Engineer officer with a good record and much African experience, they
soon made up their minds that he had been sent by Government upon some
secret mission that for reasons of his own he preferred to keep to
himself. This conclusion, which Jeekie zealously fostered behind his
back, in fact did Alan a good turn, since owing to it he obtained
boatmen and servants at a season when, had he been supposed to be but a
private person, these would scarcely have been forthcoming at any
price. Hitherto his journey had been one long record of mud,
mosquitoes, and misery, but otherwise devoid of incident, except the
eating of one of his boatmen by a crocodile which was a particularly
“early riser,” for it had pulled the poor fellow out of the canoe in
which he lay asleep at night. Now, however, the real dangers were about
to begin, since at this spot he left the great river and started
forward through the forest on foot with Jeekie and the four bearers
whom he had paid highly to accompany him.
He could not conceal from himself that the undertaking seemed somewhat
desperate. But of this he said nothing in the long letter he had written
to Barbara on the previous night, sighing as he sealed it, at the
thought that it might well be the last which would ever reach her from
him, even if the boatmen got safely back to Calabar and remembered to
put it in the post. The enterprise had been begun and must be carried
through, until it ended in success—or death.
An hour later they started. First walked Alan as leader of the
expedition, carrying a double-barrelled gun that could be used either
for ball or shot, about fifty cartridges with brass cases to protect
them from the damp, a revolver, a hunting-knife, a cloth mackintosh,
and lastly, strapped upon his back like a knapsack, a tin box
containing the fetish, Little Bonsa, which was too precious to be
trusted to anyone else. It was quite a sufficient load for any white
man in that climate, but being very wiry, Alan did not feel its weight,
at any rate at first.
After him in single file came the four porters, laden with a small tent,
some tinned provisions and brandy, ammunition, a box containing beads,
watches, etc. for presents, blankets, spare clothing and so forth.
These were stalwart fellows enough, who knew the forest, but their
dejected air showed that now they had come face to face with its
dangers, they heartily wished themselves anywhere else. Indeed,
notwithstanding their terror of Jeekie’s medicine, at the last moment
they threw down their loads intending to make a wild rush for the
departing boat, only to be met by Jeekie himself who, anticipating some
such move, was waiting for them on the bank with a shotgun. Here he
remained until the canoe was too far out in the stream for them to
reach it by swimming. Then he asked them if they wished to sit and
starve there with the devils he would leave them for company, of if
they would carry out their bargain like honest men?
The end of it was they took up their loads again and marched, while
behind them walked the terrible and gigantic Jeekie, the barrels of the
shotgun which he carried at full cock and occasionally used to prod
them, pointing directly at their backs. A strange object he looked
truly, for in addition to the weapons with which he bristled, several
cooking-pots were slung about him, to say nothing of a cork mattress
and a mackintosh sheet tied in a flat bundle to his shoulders, a box
containing medicines and food which he carried on his head, and
fastened to the top of it with string like a helmet on a coffin, an
enormous solar-tope stuffed full of mosquito netting, of which the ends
fell about him like a green veil. When Alan remonstrated with him as to
the cork mattress, suggesting that it should be thrown away as too hot
to wear, Jeekie replied that he had been cold for thirty years, and
wished to get warm again. Guessing that his real reason for declining
to part with the article, was that his master should have something to
lie on, other than the damp ground, Alan said no more at the time,
which, as will be seen, was fortunate enough for Jeekie.
For a mile or more their road ran through fantastic-looking mangrove
trees rooted in the mud, that in the mist resembled, Alan thought,
many-legged arboreal octopi feeling for their food, and tall reeds on
the tops of which sat crowds of chattering finches. Then just as the
sun broke out, strongly, cheering them with its warmth and sucking up
the vapours, they entered sparse bush with palms and great cotton trees
growing here and there, and so at length came to the borders of the
mighty forest.
Oh! dark, dark was that forest; he who entered it from the cheerful
sunshine felt as though suddenly and without preparation he had
wandered out of the light we know into some dim Hades such as the old
Greek fancy painted, where strengthless ghosts flit aimlessly, mourning
the lost light. Everywhere the giant boles of trees shooting the height
of a church tower into the air without a branch; great rib-rooted
trees, and beneath them a fierce and hungry growth of creepers. Where a
tree had fallen within the last century or so, these creepers ramped
upwards in luxuriance, their stems thick as the body of a man, drinking
the shaft of light that pierced downwards, drinking it with eagerness
ere the boughs above met again and starved them. Where no tree had
fallen the creepers were thin and weak; from year to year they lived on
feebly, biding their time, but still they lived, knowing that some day
it would come. And always it was coming to those expectant parasites,
since from minute to minute, somewhere in the vast depths, miles and
miles away perhaps, a great crash echoed in the stillness, the crash of
a tree that, sown when the Saxons ruled in England, or perhaps before
Cleopatra bewitched Anthony, came to its end at last.
On the second day of their march in the forest Alan chanced to see such
a tree fall, and the sight was one that he never could forget. As it
happened, owing to the vast spread of its branches which had killed out
all rivals beneath, for in its day it had been a very successful tree
embued with an excellent constitution by its parent, it stood somewhat
alone, so that from several hundred yards away as these six human
beings crept towards it like ants towards a sapling in a cornfield, its
mighty girth and bulk set upon a little mound and the luxuriant
greenness of its far-reaching boughs made a kind of landmark. Then in
the hot noon when no breath of wind stirred, suddenly the end came.
Suddenly that mighty bole seemed to crumble; suddenly those far-reaching
arms were thrown together as their support failed, gripping at each
other like living things, flogging the air, screaming in their last
agony, and with an awful wailing groan sinking, a tumbled ruin, to the
earth.
Silence again, and in the midst of the silence Jeekie’s cheerful voice.
“Old tree go flop! Glad he no flop on us, thanks be to Little Bonsa. Get
on, you lazy nigger dog. Who pay you stand there and snivel? Get on or I
blow out your stupid skull,” and he brought the muzzle of the
full-cocked, double-barrelled gun into sharp contact with that part of
the terrified porter’s anatomy.
Such was the forest. Of their march through it for the first four days,
there is nothing to tell. Its depths seemed to be devoid of life,
although occasionally they heard the screaming of parrots in the
treetops a couple of hundred feet above, or caught sight of the dim
shapes of monkeys swinging themselves from bough to bough. That was in
the daytime, when, although they could not see it, they knew that the
sun was shining somewhere. But at night they heard nothing, since
beasts of prey do not come where there is no food. What puzzled Alan
was that all through these impenetrable recesses there ran a distinct
road which they followed. To the right and left rose a wall of
creepers, but between them ran this road, an ancient road, for nothing
grew on it, and it only turned aside to avoid the biggest of the trees
which must have stood there from time immemorial, such a tree as that
which he had seen fall; indeed it was one of those round which the road
ran.
He asked Jeekie who made the road.
“People who come out Noah’s Ark,” answered Jeekie, “I
think they run up here to get out of way of water, and sent them two
elephants ahead to make path. Or perhaps dwarf people make it. Or
perhaps those who go up to Asiki-land to do sacrifice like old Jews.”
“You mean you don’t know,” said Alan.
“No, of course don’t know. Who know about forest path made before
beginning of world. You ask question, Major, I answer. More lively
answer than to shake head and roll eyes like them silly fool porters.”
It was on the fourth night that the trouble began. As usual they had lit
a huge fire made of the fallen boughs and rotting tree trunks that lay
about in plenty. There was no reason why the fire should be so large,
since they had little to cook and the air was hot, but they made it so
for the same reason that Jeekie answered questions, for the sake of
cheerfulness. At least it gave light in the darkness, leaping up in red
tongues of flame twenty or thirty feet high, and its roar and crackle
were welcome in the primeval silence.
Alan lay upon the cork mattress in the open, for here there was no need
to pitch the tent; if any rain fell above, the canopy of leaves
absorbed it. He was amusing himself while he smoked his pipe with
watching the reflection of the fire-light against a patch of darkness
caused probably by some bush about twenty yards away, and by picturing
in his own mind the face of Barbara, that strong, pleasant English
face, as it might appear on such a background. Suddenly there, on the
identical spot he did see a face, though one of a very different
character. It was round and small and hideous, resembling in its
general outline that of a bloated child. At this distance he could not
distinguish the features, except the lips, which were large and
pendulous, and between them the flash of white teeth.
“Look here,” he whispered to Jeekie in English, and Jeekie looked,
then without saying a word, lifted the shotgun that lay at his side and
fired straight at the bush. Instantly there arose a squeaking noise,
such as might be made by a wounded animal, and the four porters sprang
up in alarm.
“Sit down,” said Jeekie to them in their own tongue, “a
leopard was stalking us and I fired to frighten it away. Don’t go near
the place, as it may be wounded and angry, but drag up some boughs and
make a fence round the fire, for fear of others.”
The men who dreaded leopards, looking on these animals, indeed, with
superstitious reverence, obeyed readily enough, and as there was plenty
of wood lying within a few yards, soon constructed a _boma_ fence that,
rough as it was, would serve for protection.
“Jeekie,” said Alan presently as they laboured at the fence,
“that was not a leopard, it was a man.”
“No, no, Major, not man, little dwarf devil, him that have poisoned
arrow. I shoot at once to make him sit up. Think he no come back
to-night, too much afraid of shot fetish. But to-morrow, can’t say. Not
tell those fellows anything,” and he nodded towards the porters, “or
perhaps they bolt.”
“I think you would have done better to leave the dwarf alone,” said
Alan, “and they might have left us alone. Now they will have a blood
feud against us.”
“Not agree, Major, only chance for us put him in blue funk. If I not
shoot, presently he shoot,” and he made a sound that resembled the
whistling of an arrow, then added, “Now you go sleep. I not tired, I
watch, my eyes see in dark better than yours. Only two more days of this
damn forest, then open land with tree here and there, where dwarf no
come because he afraid of lion and cannibal man, who like eat him.”
As there was nothing else to be done Alan took Jeekie’s advice and in
time fell fast asleep, nor did he wake again till the faint light which,
for the want of a better name, they called dawn, was filtering down to
them through the canopy of boughs.
“Been to look,” said Jeekie as he handed him his coffee. “Hit
that dwarf man, see his blood, but think others carry him away. Jeekie
very good shot, stone, spear, arrow, or gun, all same to him. Now get
off as quick as we can before porters smell a rat. You eat chop, Major,
I pack.”
Presently they started on their trudge through those endless trees, with
Fear for a companion. Even the porters, who had been told nothing,
seemed more afraid than usual, though whether this was because they
“smell rat,” as Jeekie called it, or owing to the progressive breakdown
of their nervous systems, Alan did not know. About midday they stopped
to eat because the men were too tired to walk further without rest. For
an hour or more they had been looking for a comparatively open place,
but as it chanced could find none, so were obliged to halt in dense
forest. Just as they had finished their meal and were preparing to
proceed, that which they had feared, happened, since from somewhere
behind the tree boles came a volley of reed arrows. One struck a porter
in the neck, one fixed itself in Alan’s helmet without touching him,
and no less than three hit Jeekie on the back and stuck there,
providentially enough in the substance of the cork mattress that he
still carried on his shoulders, which the feeble shafts had not the
strength to pierce.
Everybody sprang up and with a curious fascination instead of attempting
to do anything, watched the porter who had been hit in the neck
somewhere in the region of the jugular vein. The poor man rose to his
feet with great deliberation, reminding Alan in some grotesque way of a
speaker who has suddenly been called on to address a meeting and seeks
to gain time for the gathering of his thoughts. Then he turned towards
that vast audience of the trees, stretched out his hand with a
declamatory gesture, said something in a composed voice, and fell upon
his face stone dead! The swift poison had reached his heart and done
its work.
His three companions looked at him for a moment and the next with a yell
of terror, rushed off into the forest, hurling down their loads as they
ran. What became of them Alan never learned, for he saw them no more,
and the dwarf people keep their secrets. At the time indeed he scarcely
noticed their departure, for he was otherwise engaged.
One of their hideous little assailants, made bold by success, ventured
to run across an open space between two trees, showing himself for a
moment. Alan had a gun in his hand, and mad with rage at what had
happened, he raised it and swung on him as he would upon a rabbit. He
was a quick and practised shot and his skill did not fail him now, for
just as the dwarf was vanishing behind a tree, the bullet caught him
and next instant he was seen rolling over and over upon its further
side.
“That very nice,” said Jeekie reflectively, “very nice
indeed, but I think we best move out of this.”
“Aren’t you hurt?” gasped Alan. “Your back is full of
arrows.”
“Don’t feel nothing, Major,” he answered, “best cork
mattress, 25/3 at Stores, very good for poisoned arrow, but leave him
behind now, because perhaps points work through as I run, one scratch
do trick,” and as he spoke Jeekie untied a string or several strings,
letting the little mattress fall to the ground.
“Great pity leave all those goods,” said Jeekie, surveying the
loads that the porters had cast away, “but what says Book? Life more
than raiment. Also take no thought for morrow. Dwarf people do that for
us. Come, Major, make tracks,” and dashing at a bag of cartridges which
he cast about his neck, a trifling addition to his other impedimenta,
and a small case of potted meats that he hitched under his arm, he
poked his master in the back with the muzzle of his full-cocked gun as
a signal that it was time to start.
“Keep that cursed thing off me,” said Alan furiously. “How
often have I told you never to carry firearms at full cock?”
“About one thousand times, Major,” answered Jeekie imperturbably,
“but on such occasion forget discreetness. My ma just same, it run in
family, but story too long tell you now. Cut, Major, cut like hell. Them
dwarfs be back soon, but,” he puffed, “I think, I think Little Bonsa
come square with them one day.”
So Alan “cut” and the huge Jeekie blundered along after him, the
paraphernalia with which he was hung about rattling like the hoofs of a
galloping giraffe. Nor for all his load did he ever turn a hair. Whether
it were fear within or a desire to save his master, or a belief in the
virtues of Little Bonsa, or that his foot was, as it were, once more
upon his native heath, the fact remained that notwithstanding the fifty
years, almost, that had whitened his wool, Jeekie was absolutely
inexhaustible. At least at the end of that fearful chase, which lasted
all the day, and through the night also, for they dared not camp, he
appeared to be nearly as fresh as when he started from Old Calabar, nor
did his spirits fail him for one moment.
When the light came on the following morning, however, they perceived by
many signs and tokens that the dwarf people were all about them. Some
arrows were shot even, but these fell short.
“Pooh!” said Jeekie, “all right now, they much afraid. Still,
no time for coffee, we best get on.”
So they got on as they could, till towards midday the forest began to
thin out. Now as the light grew stronger they could see the dwarfs, of
whom there appeared to be several hundred, keeping a parallel course to
their own on either side of them at what they thought to be a safe
distance.
“Try one shot, I think,” said Jeekie, kneeling down and letting fly
at a clump of the little men, which scattered like a covey of
partridges, leaving one of its number kicking on the ground. “Ah! my
boy,” shouted Jeekie in derision, “how you like bullet in tummy? You
not know Paradox guaranteed flat trajectory 250 yard. You remember that
next time, sonny.” Then off they went again up a long rise.
“River other side of that rise,” said Jeekie. “Think those
tree-monkeys no follow us there.”
But the “monkeys” appeared to be angry and determined. They would
not come any more within the range of the Paradox, but they still
marched on either side of the two fugitives, knowing well that at last
their strength must fail and they would be able to creep up and murder
them. So the chase went on till Alan began to wonder whether it would
not be better to face the end at once.
“No, no, if say die, can’t change mind to-morrow morning,”
gasped Jeekie in a hoarse voice. “Here top rise, much nearer than I
thought. Oh, my aunt! who those?” and he pointed to a large number of
big men armed with spears who were marching up the further side of the
hill from the river that ran below.
At the same moment these savages, who were not more than two hundred
yards away, caught sight of them and of their pursuers, who just then
appeared on the ridge to the right and left. The dwarfs, on perceiving
these strangers, uttered a shrill yell of terror, and wheeled about to
fly to their fastnesses in the forest, which evidently they regretted
ever having left. It was too late. With an answering shout the
spearsmen, who were extended in a long line, apparently hunting for
game, charged after them at full speed. They were fresh and their legs
were long. Therefore very soon they overtook the dwarfs and even got in
front of them, heading them off from the forest. The end may be
guessed,—save a few whom they reserved alive, they killed them
mercilessly, and almost without loss to themselves, since the little
forest folk were too terrified and exhausted to shoot at them with
their poisoned arrows, and they had no other weapons.
In fact, as Alan discovered afterwards, for generations there had been
war between them, since all the other tribes hate the dwarfs, whom they
look upon as dangerous human monkeys, and never before had the big men
found such a chance of squaring their account.
When Jeekie saw this fearful-looking company, for the first time his
spirits seemed to fail him.
“Ogula!” he exclaimed with a groan and sat himself upon a flat
rock, pulling Alan down beside him. “Ogula! Know them by hair and
spears,” he repeated. “Up gum tree now, say good-night.”
“Why? Who are they?” gasped Alan.
“Great cannibal, Major, eat man, eat us to-night, or perhaps to-morrow
morning when we nice and cool. Say prayers, Major, quick no time waste.”
“I think I will shoot an Ogula or two first,” said Alan grimly, as
he stood up and lifted his gun.
“No, not shoot, no good. Pretend not be afraid, best chance. Let Jeekie
think, let Jeekie think,” and he slapped his forehead with his large
hand.
Apparently the action brought inspiration, for next instant he grabbed
his master by the arm and dragged him back behind the shelter of a big
boulder which they had just passed. Then with really marvellous
swiftness he cut the straps of the tin box that Alan wore upon his
back, and since there was no time to find the key and unlock it, seized
the little padlock with which it was fastened between his finger and
thumb, and putting out his great strength, with a single wrench twisted
it off.
“What are you——” began Alan.
“Hold tongue,” he answered savagely, “make you god, I priest.
Ogula know Little Bonsa. Quick, quick!”
In a minute it was done, the golden mask was clapped on to Alan’s head,
and the leather thongs were fastened. Moreover, Jeekie himself was
arrayed in the solar-tope to which all this while he had clung,
allowing streams of green mosquito netting to hang down over his white
robe.
“Come out now, Major,” he said, “and play god. You whistle, I
do palaver.”
Then hand in hand they walked from behind the rock. By this time the
particular company of the cannibals that was opposite to them, which
happened to include their chief, had climbed the steep slope of the
hill and arrived within a distance of twenty yards. Having seen the two
men and guessed that they had taken refuge behind the rock, their
spears were lifted to kill them, since when he beholds anything
strange, the first impulse of a savage is to bring it to its death.
They looked; they saw. Of a sudden down went the raised spears.
Some of those who held them fell upon their faces, while others turned
to fly, appalled by the vision of this strangely clad man with the head
of gold. Only their chief, a great yellow-toothed fellow who wore a
necklace of baboon claws, remained erect, staring at them with open
mouth.
Alan blew the whistle that was set between the lips of the mask, and
they shivered. Then Jeekie spoke to them in some tongue which they
understood, saying:
“Do you, O Ogula, dare to offer violence to Little Bonsa and her
priests? Say now, why should we not strike you dead with the magic of
the god which she has borrowed from the white man?” and he tapped the
gun he held.
“This is witchcraft,” answered the chief. “We saw two men
running, hunted by the dwarfs, not three minutes ago, and now we
see—what we see,” and he put his hand before his eyes, then after a
pause went on—“As for Little Bonsa, she left this country in my
father’s day. He gave her passage upon the head of a white man and the
Asiki wizards have mourned her ever since, or so I hear.”
“Fool,” answered Jeekie, “as she went, so she returns, on the
head of a white man. Yonder I see an elder with grey hair who doubtless
knew of Little Bonsa in his youth. Let him come up and look and say
whether or no this is the god.”
“Yes, yes,” exclaimed the chief, “go up, old man, go
up,” and he jabbed at him with his spear until, unwillingly enough, he
went.
The elder arrived, making obeisance, and when he was near, Alan blew the
whistle in his face, whereon he fell to his knees.
“It is Little Bonsa,” he said in a trembling voice, “Little
Bonsa without a doubt. I should know, as my father and my elder brother
were sacrificed to her, and I only escaped because she rejected me.
Down on your face, Chief, and do honour to the Yellow God before she
slay you.”
Instantly every man within hearing prostrated himself and lay still.
Then Jeekie strode up and down among them shouting out:
“Little Bonsa has come back and brought to you, Man-eaters, a fat
offering, an offering of the dwarf-people whom you hate, of the
treacherous dwarf-people who when you walk the ancient forest path,
murder you with their poisoned arrows. Praise Little Bonsa who delivers
you from your foes, and hearken to her bidding. Send on messengers to
the Asiki saying that Little Bonsa comes home again from across the
Black Water bringing the White Preacher, whom she led away in the day
of their fathers. Say to them that the Asiki must send out a company
that Little Bonsa and the Magician with whom she ran away, may be
escorted back to her house with the state which has been hers from the
beginning of time. Say to them also that they must prepare a great
offering of pure gold out of their store, as much gold as fifty strong
men can carry, not one handful less, to be given to the White Magician
who brings back Small Swimming Head, for if they withhold such an
offering, he and Little Bonsa will vanish never to be seen again, and
curses and desolation will fall upon their land. Rise and obey, Chief
of the Ogula.”
Then the man scrambled to his feet and answered:
“It shall be done, O Priest of the Yellow God. To-morrow at the dawn
swift messengers will start for the Gold House of the Asiki. To-night
they cannot leave, as we are all very hungry and must eat.”
“What must you eat?” asked Jeekie suspiciously.
“O Priest,” answered the chief with a deprecatory gesture,
“when first we saw you we hoped that it would be the white man and
yourself, for we have never tasted white man. But now we fear that you
will not consent to this, and as you are holy and the guardian of the
god, we cannot eat you without your own consent. Therefore fat dwarf
must be our food, of which, however, there will be plenty for you as
well as us.”
“You dog!” exclaimed Jeekie in a voice of furious indignation.
“Do you think that white men and their high-born companions, such as
myself, were made to fill your vile stomachs? I tell you that a meal of
the deadly Bean would agree better with you, for if you dare so much as
to look on us, or on any of the white race with hunger, agony shall
seize your vitals and you and all your tribe shall die as though by
poison. Moreover, we do not touch the flesh of men, nor will we see it
eaten. It is our ‘_orunda_,’ it is consecrate to us, it must not pass
our lips, nor may our eyes behold it. Therefore we will camp apart from
you further up the stream and find our own food. But to-morrow at the
dawn the messengers must leave as we have commanded. Also you shall
provide strong men and a large canoe to bear Little Bonsa forward
towards her own home until she finds her people coming out to greet
her.
“It shall be done,” answered the chief humbly, “Everything
shall be done according to the will of Little Bonsa spoken by her
priest, that she may leave a blessing and not a curse upon the heads of
the tribe of the Ogula. Say where you wish to camp and men shall run to
build a house of reeds for the god to dwell in.”