The actual sight of spirits from ghostland, of which hitherto they had
only heard, had been too much for the nerves of the tribe already
overstrung by the overthrow of the idol and the magic and slaughter of zu
Pfeiffer; the warriors had fled like scared poultry to the jungle, up
trees, in the undergrowth and in their huts, where they cowered among
their women and slaves, reading awful omens and portents in every sound of
the forest.
The phenomenon had been just as startling and awe-inspiring to Bakahenzie
as it had been to his most ignorant dupe. His belief in ghostland was
implicit, but now he had seen what, professionally, he was supposed to see
and converse with on familiar terms. As Zalu Zako disappeared he continued
to listen intently. Above the slight rustle of the bushes as the
Son-of-the-Snake moved through the undergrowth rose a feminine laugh.
Bakahenzie’s liver was squeezed by that sardonic chuckle; for, as is well
known, female demons are much more malignant than the male. For the space
of a chant he remained crouching there, curiosity and the dread of
revealing his terror to his fellows tugging at his feet and fear of the
demons clutching him around the waist. Save the anthem of the forest no
further sound of the ghosts was audible.
Cautiously rose Bakahenzie, wriggled out of his nest and with as much
dignity as maybe, strode back to the fire. From the village came a slight
whimpering. With satisfaction Bakahenzie noted that no one else was in
sight. For another space he sat with unquiet eyes and ears upon the
forest. Then gathering courage as nothing happened, he pondered upon what
attitude he should assume.
Yabolo stalked from round a hut and squatting calmly beside Bakahenzie,
nonchalantly proceeded to tap out snuff and offered some to Bakahenzie,
who grunted acceptance and sniffed with even greater indifference.
Motionless they continued to sit and silently. Bakahenzie wondered whether
Yabolo knew that he, too, had fled, and Yabolo, who did know, waited for
the first move on Bakahenzie’s part to retort.
Yabolo, indeed, who had been as panic-stricken as Bakahenzie, was more
suspicious in view of the accounts he had heard of the magic of
Eyes-in-the-hands. Who knew but this vision might not be another
manifestation of Eyes-in-the-hands? And more slowly a similar idea began
to occur to Bakahenzie, save that he had in mind the incident of
Moonspirit’s magic in the face of his bravest warriors. The calmer he
became the more was he inclined to accept this explanation of the
apparitions; such was infinitely more comforting to him than the
conception that they had been in truth spirits from ghostland. As the
doubt grew the wisdom of propitiating this powerful Moonspirit became
apparent; yet was present the dread of loosing what remained of his
autocratic power. The problem now was to enlist the white and discover
some means of controlling him and his magic.
But to both men the vital question was, what had become of Zalu Zako?
There were two alternatives: if the visions had been genuine ghosts, then
undoubtedly Zalu Zako was dead; but if they had been produced through the
magic of a white man, then, Bakahenzie argued, Zalu Zako and Marufa must
be in league with Moonspirit, and Yabolo opined that Zalu Zako had been
captured by Eyes-in-the-hands. To the latter the effect was to strengthen
the determination to go over to Eyes-in-the-hands. If the first
possibility was correct the greater need had he of strong magic if real
ghosts were taking to walking abroad visibly, and the other case merely
proved beyond question the invincible magic of Eyes-in-the-hands. But to
Bakahenzie the reaction was slightly different, for his elemental reason
took him a little farther than Yabolo by pointing out that in all his wide
experience never had spirits taken demons’ shape, so that the suspicion
that they had been due to Moonspirit became more plausible, and was
supported by the recollection of Marufa’s unexplained absence and sudden
reappearance on familiar terms with the spirits.
The longer he pondered on the strange actions of Marufa the more he was
persuaded that that wily colleague was acting upon sound information, and
the tangle of his affairs made him so desperate that he decided to gamble
upon that assumption: for magician Bakahenzie began to realize that Marufa
had somehow scored a point and that now was approaching the crux which
would determine whether he won back or lost for ever that which was the
essence of life to him.
Meanwhile the two puzzled plotters sat motionless and silent as if
mutually agreeing that no question regarding each other’s late movements
had better be asked.
Accordingly to the depth of his superstition returned each witch-doctor.
When they were come, without one word of explanation, Bakahenzie lifted
his voice in a high falsetto, bidding the lay warriors to return to hear
the voice of the elders. Reassured by this command which carried far on
the still air, they began to emerge from hut and undergrowth. The first to
arrive was MYalu, angry to find the whole assembly of wizards apparently
sitting as if they had never moved, engaged in mystic incantations. MYalu
had not fled far and from his cranny had seen the flight of Bakahenzie and
the departure of Zalu Zako, but he dared not betray the doctors. He
squatted sullenly and waited while the remainder of the warriors, of whom
many had also seen the general stampede, filed to their places.
When all were assembled Bakahenzie looked up from his spell and bade them
to listen to what message the faculty—for obvious policy’s sake he
included the whole of the ghosts—had received from ghostland by the three
spirits, emphasising the vision of the magicians as proof positive of the
terrible power of the craft. By reason of the sin committed by one who had
broken the magic circle, as they all knew, said Bakahenzie, had this wrath
of the Unmentionable One come upon them, permitting the incarnation of a
demon, Eyes-in-the-hands, to work his will upon them and to make them
slaves, as were their dogs the Wamungo; and so in the depth of their
tribulation he, Bakahenzie, whose magic had been rendered impotent by the
betrayal of the Bride of the Banana, had invoked the spirits of the three,
as they all had witnessed.
“Ough! Ough!” grunted the warriors in assent, although many of them were
sorely puzzled to know why the doctors themselves had fled. Yabolo began
to grow restless in his mind. To allow Bakahenzie to steal all the thunder
and condemn the possible source of political power to the level of an evil
demon was contrary to his policy, but he gave no physical sign save to
become engrossed in his snuff box.
Then Bakahenzie continued with a long harangue maintaining the necessity
of the consummation of the Marriage of the Banana and announced that Zalu
Zako had been taken by the spirit of his forefathers in order to prepare
magic for the eating up of the terrible Eyes-in-the-hands; that as the
voice of Tarum had said, Zalu Zako would return with “That which was slain
on the hill—that which ye seek, that which is yours.” Although Bakahenzie
was not sure to what these words had referred, yet he was sagacious enough
to know that if Marufa had engineered that scene, then there must be some
plan at the back of it, and in any case knew, as any white medicine man,
that words in mystic phrasing are always soul-satisfying to the credulous
who interpret them in terms of their subconscious desires. Then with
political prudence he avoided any reference to uncomfortable topics, by
dismissing the assembly before any pertinent questions could be asked.
But when Bakahenzie had retired to his hut, presumably for the night, as
Marufa had done before him, he girded himself with an amulet containing
the gall of an enemy killed in battle and a short stabbing spear and
sallied forth through a hole in the fence to brave the spirits of the
forests in his need.
In the village generally sleep was not entertained with enthusiasm by any
save those women and slaves who knew not of the great happenings. In the
hut of Yabolo were MYalu and Sakamata. From the old men MYalu received
much consolation and advice, but no information as to why the wizards had
bolted as fast as the laymen from ghosts invoked by their own magic.
Sakamata confirmed authoritatively Yabolo’s suspicion that the phenomena
had been produced through the magic of Eyes-in-the-hands, urging that they
lose no time in going to him to make submission. Yabolo had already
decided on that course, but MYalu refused to give a definite decision as
to when he would go. He sat sullenly, saying no word, and eventually
departed to his own hut where he dismissed his wives and continued to
brood.
The fear and rage aroused by the anointing of the warriors for the capture
of Bakuma had been dissipated by the general panic produced by the ghosts.
Afterwards MYalu had unconsciously hoped, because he so desired it, that
the pursuit of the Bride would be abandoned; hence Bakahenzie’s renewal of
the chase had angered and frightened him anew. As all the rest of them, he
wondered and pondered upon the fate of Zalu Zako and Marufa. Marufa, as he
well knew, had a black heart and two tongues; therefore was he suspicious
of any manifestation with which the son of MTungo could be connected. Zalu
Zako was wealthy; perhaps he had bribed Marufa to make magic in order to
enable him to escape the doom of the king-godship and to flee to another
country with Bakuma under the protection of Moonspirit. A lover’s jealousy
is as powerful a driving force as ambition. In this case it drove even
MYalu to defy the spirits of the night, for at the hour of the monkey he
too stole away into the gloom.
So it was that as the patterned roof of the forest was etched in the timid
green of dawn peeped MYalu through the gate of the zareba of Moonspirit to
discover the gaunt form of Bakahenzie squatted by the embers of a fire
within a deserted compound. Bakahenzie’s quick eyes, on the alert for
ghosts or any moving thing, saw him; so coldly MYalu advanced and sat
beside him, grunting the formal greeting.
MYalu noted the age of the spoor about the compound, the tent peg holes
newly pulled. Now was he sure that Marufa and Zalu Zako were in league
with Moonspirit. Wrath smouldered in his broad chest. At length spoke
Bakahenzie casually:
“The Bride of the Banana hath been taken away.” Bakahenzie paused as if
weighing his words, and added: “But the feet of spirits are heavy on the
land.” MYalu grunted. Bakahenzie had an idea and to MYalu was born another
about the same instant. Said Bakahenzie, who wished to know the
whereabouts of Marufa, Moonspirit and company: “If the Marriage of the
Bride be not consummated then will the power of Eyes-in-the-hands
prevail.” And after a long pause: “Who will seek the Bride?”
MYalu remained silent, revolving his own notion in his mind. There
remained with him still many traces of the awe and belief in the power and
knowledge of Bakahenzie, and so his words threatening the triumph of
Eyes-in-the-hands assured and strengthened his purpose; for he thought
that if he could accomplish his plan then would Eyes-in-the-hands surely
triumph as Bakahenzie predicted. Thus it was that he said:
“O master of Wisdom, give unto me a mighty charm against the evil eye of
traitors and will I and those that follow me seek the Bride and bring her
so that which is bidden may be, that the children of the Banana may
triumph.”
MYalu rose. The two started on the return to the village. On the road
Bakahenzie sought to flatter MYalu by pretending to take him into his
confidence, adjuring him to secrecy and informing him that he would cause
it to be known that MYalu, the son of MBusa, would bring back the Bride of
the Banana. MYalu assented gravely. Just before reaching the village his
keen eyes noticed a slight trail from the regular path. Broken, twisted
and crushed leaves and strained branches indicated the recent passage of
two or three people through the undergrowth.
With difficulty, for the Wongolo are not forest people, he followed the
spoor in a semi-circle towards the village and a footprint in the slime
revealed the track of Zalu Zako or Marufa coming from the fires. MYalu
grunted, but he said nothing to Bakahenzie or anybody else. That the
vision had been caused by Moonspirit’s magic he had now no doubt, and his
estimation of Moonspirit’s power increased to the point of terror; yet the
smouldering jealousy and desire for Bakuma drove him dreadfully on.
Before the sun was two spans high MYalu left the village with some two
hundred of his followers anointed against magic and spirits. The track
from Moonspirit’s camp was like an elephant’s path. Through the steamy
heat they followed all day until they came out upon a river near to a
village upon the border of the forest. The headman of the village was away
with his chief; but women, children and slaves remained. Zalu Zako, in the
company of a white man called Moonspirit, Marufa, the wizard, and a girl
had arrived, had taken three canoes and had left up-stream within a hand’s
breadth of a shadow. MYalu took all the canoes available and started in
pursuit, leaving the rest of his men to follow as soon as they had
procured other canoes from the nearest village.
The river was small but deep and flowed swiftly between the vast curtains
of the overhanging trees. When the dungeon of the forest was glooming to
night they saw the gleam of a fire. Swiftly and silently they landed,
surrounded the camp and uttering the war yell, rushed.
But Moonspirit, Zalu Zako or Marufa they found not—only Bakuma with some
dozen Wamungo carriers. Even the dismal squawk of a Baroto bird could not
damp the relief and joy of MYalu. Next morning he despatched a secret
messenger to Yabolo, making a rendezvous at a certain village and with a
weeping Bakuma in his train set out to seek the rest of his fortune at the
camp of Eyes-in-the-hands.