Part 22 (1/2)
”Thank you,” I replied, feeling that it would be useless to show any suspicion of his story. ”Now will you be so good as to tell me who and what is the G.o.d, or the elephant Jana, whom you have brought me here to kill? Is the elephant a G.o.d, or is the G.o.d an elephant? In either case what has it to do with the Child?”
”Lord, Jana among us Kendah represents the evil in the world, as the Child represents the good. Jana is he whom the Mohammedans call Shaitan and the Christians call Satan, and our forefathers, the old Egyptians, called Set.”
”Ah!” thought I to myself, ”now we have got it. Horus the Divine Child, and Set the evil monster, with whom it strives everlastingly.”
”Always,” went on Mart, ”there has been war between the Child and Jana, that is, between Good and Evil, and we know that in the end one of them must conquer the other.”
”The whole world has known that from the beginning,” I interrupted. ”But who and what is this Jana?”
”Among the Black Kendah, Lord, Jana is an elephant, or at any rate his symbol is an elephant, a very terrible beast to which sacrifices are made, that kills all who do not wors.h.i.+p him if he chances to meet them.
He lives farther on in the forest yonder, and the Black Kendah make use of him in war, for the devil in him obeys their priests.”
”Indeed, and is this elephant always the same?”
”I cannot tell you, but for many generations it has been the same, for it is known by its size and by the fact that one of its tusks is twisted downwards.”
”Well,” I remarked, ”all this proves nothing, since elephants certainly live for at least two hundred years, and perhaps much longer. Also, after they become 'rogues' they acquire every kind of wicked and unnatural habit, as to which I could tell you lots of stories. Have you seen this elephant?”
”No, Mac.u.mazana,” he answered with a s.h.i.+ver. ”If I had seen it should I have been alive to-day? Yet I fear I am fated to see it ere long, not alone,” and again he s.h.i.+vered, looking at me in a very suggestive manner.
At this moment our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two Black Kendahs who brought us our breakfast of porridge and a boiled fowl, and stood there while we ate it. For my part I was not sorry, as I had learned all I wanted to know of the theological opinions and practice of the land, and had come to the conclusion that the terrible devil-G.o.d of the Black Kendah was merely a rogue elephant of unusual size and ferocity, which under other circ.u.mstances it would have given me the greatest pleasure to try to shoot.
When we had finished eating, that is soon, for neither of our appet.i.tes was good that morning, we walked out of the house into the surrounding compound and visited the camelmen in their hut. Here we found them squatted on the ground looking very depressed indeed. When I asked them what was the matter they replied, ”Nothing,” except that they were men about to die and life was pleasant. Also they had wives and children whom they would never see again.
Having tried to cheer them up to the best of my ability, which I fear I did without conviction, for in my heart I agreed with their view of the case, we returned to the guest-house and mounted the stair which led to the flat roof. Hence we saw that some curious ceremony was in progress in the centre of the market-place. At that distance we could not make out the details, for I forgot to say that my gla.s.ses had been stolen with the pistol and knife, probably because they were supposed to be lethal weapons or instruments of magic.
A rough altar had been erected, on which a fire burned. Behind it the king, Simba, was seated on a stool with various councillors about him.
In front of the altar was a stout wooden table, on which lay what looked like the body of a goat or a sheep. A fantastically dressed man, a.s.sisted by other men, appeared to be engaged in inspecting the inside of this animal with, we gathered, unsatisfactory results, for presently he raised his arms and uttered a loud wail. Then the creature's viscera were removed from it and thrown upon the fire, while the rest of the carca.s.s was carried off.
I asked Mart what he thought they were doing. He replied dejectedly:
”Consulting their Oracle; perhaps as to whether we should live or die, Mac.u.mazana.”
Just then the priest in the strange, feathered attire approached the king, carrying some small object in his hand. I wondered what it could be, till the sound of a report reached my ears and I saw the man begin to jump round upon one leg, holding the other with both his hands at the knee and howling loudly.
”Ah!” I said, ”that pistol was full c.o.c.ked, and the bullet got him in the foot.”
Simba shouted out something, whereon a man picked up the pistol and threw it into the fire, round which the others gathered to watch it burn.
”You wait,” I said to Mart, and as I spoke the words the inevitable happened.
Off went the other barrel of the pistol, which hopped out of the fire with the recoil like a living thing. But as it happened one of the a.s.sistant priests was standing in front of the mouth of that barrel, and he also hopped once, but never again, for the heavy bullet struck him somewhere in the body and killed him. Now there was consternation.
Everyone ran away, leaving the dead man lying on the ground. Simba led the rout and the head-priest brought up the rear, skipping along upon one leg.
Having observed these events, which filled me with an unholy joy, we descended into the house again as there was nothing more to see, also because it occurred to me that our presence on the roof, watching their discomfiture, might irritate these savages. About ten minutes later the gate of the fence round the guest-house was thrown open, and through it came four men carrying on a stretcher the body of the priest whom the bullet had killed, which they laid down in front of our door. Then followed the king with an armed guard, and after him the befeathered diviner with his foot bound up, who supported himself upon the shoulders of two of his colleagues. This man, I now perceived, wore a hideous mask, from which projected two tusks in imitation of those of an elephant. Also there were others, as many as the s.p.a.ce would hold.
The king called to us to come out of the house, which, having no choice, we did. One glance at him showed me that the man was frantic with fear, or rage, or both.
”Look upon your work, magicians!” he said in a terrible voice, pointing first to the dead priest, then to the diviner's wounded foot.
”It is no work of ours, King Simba,” answered Mart. ”It is your own work. You stole the magic weapon of the white lord and made it angry, so that it has revenged itself upon you.”
”It is true,” said Simba, ”that the tube has killed one of those who took it away from you and wounded the other” (here was luck indeed).