Part 12 (2/2)
”This, Baas: that the Kendah have not one G.o.d but two, and not one ruler but two. They have a good G.o.d who is a child-fetish” (here I started) ”that speaks through the mouth of an oracle who is always a woman. If that woman dies the G.o.d does not speak until they find another woman bearing certain marks which show that she holds the spirit of the G.o.d.
Before the woman dies she always tells the priests in what land they are to look for her who is to come after her; but sometimes they cannot find her and then trouble falls because 'the Child has lost its tongue,' and the people become the prey of the other G.o.d that never dies.”
”And what is that G.o.d, Hans?”
”That G.o.d, Baas, is an elephant” (here I started again), ”a very bad elephant to which human sacrifice is offered. I think, Baas, that it is the devil wearing the shape of an elephant, at least that is what she said. Now the sultan is a wors.h.i.+pper of the G.o.d that dwells in the elephant Jana” (here I positively whistled) ”and so are most of the people, indeed all those among them who are black. For once far away in the beginning the Kendah were two peoples, but the lighter-coloured people who wors.h.i.+pped the Child came down from the north and conquered the black people, bringing the Child with them, or so I understood her, Baas, thousands and thousands of years ago when the world was young.
Since then they have flowed on side by side like two streams in the same channel, never mixing, for each keeps its own colour. Only, she said, that stream which comes from the north grows weaker and that from the south more strong.”
”Then why does not the strong swallow up the weak?”
”Because the weak are still the pure and the wise, Baas, or so the old vrouw declared. Because they wors.h.i.+p the good while the others wors.h.i.+p the devil, and as your father the Predikant used to say, Good is the c.o.c.k which always wins the fight at the last, Baas. Yes, when he seems to be dead he gets up again and kicks the devil in the stomach and stands on him and crows, Baas. Also these northern folk are mighty magicians. Through their Child-fetish they give rain and fat seasons and keep away sickness, whereas Jana gives only evil gifts that have to do with cruelty and war and so forth. Lastly, the priests who rule through the Child have the secrets of wealth and ancient knowledge, whereas the sultan and his followers have only the might of the spear. This was the song which the old woman sang to me, Baas.”
”Why did you not tell me of these matters when we were at Beza-Town and I could have talked with her myself, Hans?”
”For two reasons, Baas. The first was that I feared, if I told you, you would wish to go on to find these people, whereas I was tired of travelling and wanted to come to Natal to rest. The second was that on the night when the old woman finished telling me her story, she was taken sick and died, and therefore it would have been no use to bring you to see her. So I saved it up in my head until it was wanted.
Moreover, Baas, all the Mazitu declared that old woman to be the greatest of liars.”
”She was not altogether a liar, Hans. Hear what I have learned,” and I told him of the magic of Hart and Mart and of the picture that I had seemed to see of the elephant Jana and of the prayer that Hart and Mart had made to me, to all of which he listened quite stolidly. It is not easy to astonish a Hottentot's brain, which often draws no accurate dividing-line between the possible and what the modern world holds to be impossible.
”Yes, Baas,” he said when I had finished, ”then it seems that the old woman was not such a liar after all. Baas, when shall we start after that h.o.a.rd of dead ivory, and which way will you go? By Kilwa or through Zululand? It should be settled soon because of the seasons.”
After this we talked together for a long while, for with pockets as empty as mine were then, the problem seemed difficult, if not insoluble.
CHAPTER VII
LORD RAGNALL'S STORY
That night Hans slept at my house, or rather outside of it in the garden, or upon the stoep, saying that he feared arrest if he went to the town, because of his quarrel with the white man. As it happened, however, the other party concerned never stirred further in the business, probably because he was too drunk to remember who had knocked him into the sluit or whether he had gravitated thither by accident.
On the following morning we renewed our discussion, debating in detail every possible method of reaching the Kendah people by help of such means as we could command. Like that of the previous night it proved somewhat abortive. Obviously such a long and hazardous expedition ought to be properly financed and--where was the money? At length I came to the conclusion that if we went at all it would be best, in the circ.u.mstances, for Hans and myself to start alone with a Scotch cart drawn by oxen and driven by a couple of Zulu hunters, which we could lade with ammunition and a few necessaries.
Thus lightly equipped we might work through Zululand and thence northward to Beza-Town, the capital of the Mazitu, where we were sure of a welcome. After that we must take our chance. It was probable that we should never reach the district where these Kendah were supposed to dwell, but at least I might be able to kill some elephants in the wild country beyond Zululand.
While we were talking I heard the gun fired which announced the arrival of the English mail, and stepping to the end of the garden, saw the steamer lying at anchor outside the bar. Then I went indoors to write a few business letters which, since I had become immersed in the affairs of that unlucky gold mine, had grown to be almost a daily task with me.
I had got through several with many groanings, for none were agreeable in their tenor, when Hans poked his head through the window in a silent kind of a way as a big snake might do, and said: ”Baas, I think there are two baases out on the road there who are looking for you. Very fine baases whom I don't know.”
”Shareholders in the Bona Fide Gold Mine,” thought I to myself, then added as I prepared to leave through the back door: ”If they come here tell them I am not at home. Tell them I left early this morning for the Congo River to look for the sources of the Nile.”
”Yes, Baas,” said Hans, collapsing on to the stoep.
I went out through the back door, sorrowing that I, Allan Quatermain, should have reached a rung in the ladder of life whence I shrank from looking any stranger in the face, for fear of what he might have to say to me. Then suddenly my pride a.s.serted itself. After all what was there of which I should be ashamed? I would face these irate shareholders as I had faced the others yesterday.
I walked round the little house to the front garden which was planted with orange trees, and up to a big moonflower bush, I believe _datura_ is its right name, that grew near the pomegranate hedge which separated my domain from the road. There a conversation was in progress, if so it may be called.
”_Ikona_” (that is: ”I don't know”), ”_Inkoosi_” (i.e. ”Chief”), said some Kafir in a stupid drawl.
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