Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest

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Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest Page 14

by Herbert Strang


  CHAPTER XII

  Big Medicine

  Barega's Village--The Cavern in the Cliff--Mutterings--Under aCloud--The Bell and the Basket--A Challenge--In the Lists--A PalpableHit--Vae Victis

  For twenty-four hours Tom lay stark and motionless in one position, theflush in his cheeks and his quick breathing showing that he was stillalive. Then, as the morning sunlight entered by the narrow doorway, heopened his eyes. Mbutu was in the act of spreading new and fragrantgrass upon the floor.

  "Mbutu!" came a faint voice from the settle. The boy flung down thegrass and ran to his master.

  "I am terribly hungry," said Tom.

  Mbutu looked for a moment incredulous.

  "I am indeed. I think I shall get well after all."

  "Neyanzi-ge!" cried Mbutu with a shout of joy, his emotion findingexpression in his native tongue. "Neyanzi-ge! I praise too much, sah!I fank too much!"

  He was indeed bubbling, over with thankfulness. He went out of the hutand joyously spread the good news. In a few moments the whole camp knewthat the muzungu was recovering. The chief ordered Bugandanwe, the bigdrum, to be struck, and arranged a spear-dance for the evening. A goatwas instantly killed to make fresh soup, and some of the spearmen whohad carried Tom to the village brought him voluntary offerings ofbananas and sweet-potatoes. Even at this moment of excitement the chiefdisplayed an amount of tact which, characteristic as it is of his race,seemed in strange disaccord with the European idea of the negro. Herefrained from visiting Tom, and strictly commanded that no one exceptMbutu, not even the katikiro, should go inside the hut on any pretenceuntil the invalid's recovery was assured. As for the katikiro himself,he beamed on everybody, and, observing the dark look on the face of themedicine-man, whose prestige was bound to suffer somewhat from thefailure of his prediction, he smiled still more broadly. He had no lovefor Mabruki, and, being a man of shrewd sense, nourished a strongsuspicion that he was a humbug; but being also a discreet man, he wasvery careful never to give verbal expression to his thought.

  From that time Tom grew slowly better. At first his limbs seemedparalysed, and he suffered intense pain from bed-sores; but the goodfood and Mbutu's careful nursing worked improvement day by day. He wassoon strong enough to receive short visits from Barega and Msala, and onthe tenth day was so far recovered as to have himself carried out beforethe sun was hot into the fresh air, well wrapped up in leopard andantelope skins, and sheltered by an awning. A week later he firstventured to walk, leaning on Mbutu's arm, and he laughed with somethingof his old light-heartedness when he saw what thin sticks his legs hadbecome. The few paces from his bed to the outside of the hut seemed amatter of immense labour. But new strength came daily, and in threeweeks he was strong enough to walk unassisted through the village.

  Those three weeks had not been wasted. He got Mbutu to teach him thelanguage, and was intensely amused at the chief's gasp of amazement atbeing one day addressed in his own tongue. He obtained also a greatstock of information about the habits and customs of the people.Remembering his long-standing promise to gratify Mbutu's appetite forstories, he drew on his memory for tales of war and adventure, and foundthat nothing pleased the boy better than the old, old story of the fightbetween the Pigmies and the Cranes. In return, Mbutu told him legendsof the country: the meaning of the Hyena's cry; why the Leopard catcheshis victim by the throat; and how the Hare outwitted the Elephant. AndTom at last heard the story of the Uncle and the Crocodile.

  The village itself, with its surroundings, was a subject of considerableinterest for Tom. From Mbutu he had learnt that a Bahima villageusually contained some twenty huts, with a total population of perhaps ahundred and fifty. But Barega, as the place was called after the nameof its chief, was by comparison quite a large town. It was built upon agentle slope, rising from the north gate, by which Tom had entered, forsome five hundred yards up a hill-side. On its north-eastern boundary,extending for some hundred and fifty yards, there was a sheer precipiceabout two hundred and fifty feet deep, partly overhanging a large openspace of prairie-like land. Through the centre of the village meandereda clear streamlet two feet broad, flowing gently downward fromsouth-west to north-east, and escaping in a light cascade over theprecipice. About sixteen yards before it reached its outlet, the brookpassed through a large reservoir sunk six feet in the ground, in whichthe water was always fresh and pure because of its constant flow. Thechief's hut, a round structure of sticks and wattles, plastered withbluish clay ornamented with designs in white kaolin, stood amid aring-fence in the centre of the village, and in an adjoining courtyard aperennial spring bubbled up, joining the streamlet outside the fence.The katikiro's hut, where Tom was located, was placed a few yards fromthe chief's, and the rest of the thatched dwellings were arranged in twostreets round the whole circuit of the village. A thick and well-keptstockade encircled the place, broken by only two gates, north and south.There were some four hundred huts in all, and the population consistedof about five hundred of the aristocratic Bahima, whose only occupationwas tending cattle and hunting, and nearly fifteen hundred menial Bairo,who grew what crops were required, chiefly for their own consumption,and also took part in the larger hunting-expeditions.

  The unusual size of the village was explained by its situation. Beingnear the edge of the forest, within the range of the depredations ofArabs and pigmies, it had become, during the rule of Barega, a sort ofharbour of refuge for people of kindred stock. Barega had won animmense reputation for miles around as a dauntless warrior; he had morethan once inflicted trifling defeats on wandering bands of raiders;spearmen with their families had put themselves under his protection;and the consequence was that a number of people which, in other parts ofCentral Africa, might have been spread over fifteen square miles inscattered hamlets, was now collected on a space not much more than aquarter of a mile square. The plantations were all, save for one largepatch of bananas, on the north side, nearer the forest, while thecattle, huge herds of oxen, sheep, and goats, had their grazing-groundsto the south.

  As he walked through the village, Tom met none but smiling faces.Everybody seemed pleased that the rescuer of the chief was restored tohealth. Ere many days passed, his usual escort was a throng of nakedyoungsters, who gazed with awe at his tall gaunt figure, and scamperedoff in a panic if he happened to turn round and look at them. Beforelong, however, his form lost its terrors, and he became the idol of allthe children in the village. As he grew stronger, he was never tired ofromping with them, showing them simple tricks, and finding endlessamusement for himself in setting them to play at English games. "Ifgames make men of us," he thought, "why not of black youngsters too?"

  "'Pon my word, Mbutu," he said one day, "I believe I could makesomething of these little beggars if I had them for a year. Look atthose little chaps over there, with sticks over their shoulders,marching exactly like a squad of recruits. Uncle Jack would go into fitsif he saw them. I shall have some funny things to tell him by and by."

  As he gained strength Tom made long excursions in the surroundingcountry. In these jaunts he was always attended by Mbutu, under whosetuition he made rapid progress in Central African woodcraft, and thethousand artifices with which semi-civilized man carries on his more orless successful struggle with the elemental forces of nature.

  As a boy, crags and cliffs had always had a strange fascination for him;and for hours together, while still too weak to walk more than a fewyards at a time, he would watch the birds circling around the spur atthe north-eastern extremity of the village. He noticed that hundreds ofthese birds disappeared into a narrow cleft, which seemed from the baseof the cliff to be no more than a couple of feet in height. For somedays he was content to note the fact, but as his strength returned, hefelt the impulse of a born cragsman to explore the cleft. It wasclearly a hazardous undertaking, for the spot in question was some twohundred feet above the ground, and the face of the cliff was almostperpendicular. Ab
ove the cleft the precipice jutted out at aconsiderable angle, rendering any attempt to reach it from aboveimpossible. There were, however, traces of a narrow ledge along the faceof the cliff, running from the desired spot for some distance parallelwith the ground, and then sweeping gently downwards to a point somefifty feet above the surface, where it suddenly ceased. Tom resolved toattempt the ascent, and not all the entreaties of Mbutu could turn himfrom his purpose. Armed with an improvised alpenstock, and agrappling-hook to aid him in clinging to the face of the cliff, hereached the ledge with some difficulty, owing to the loose nature of thesoil. But once on the ledge his progress was more rapid, and in lessthan half an hour from the start he found himself at the entrance of anextensive cavern in the side of the cliff. The opening was, for themost part, hidden from view by a large mass of loose rock that hadfallen from the roof. The slope of the cavern led upward, and althoughhe soon found himself in darkness, Tom was surprised to find that theair was quite pure. At the expense of his shins, he groped his wayupwards, disturbing on the way innumerable bats and birds, whichcannoned against him in a panic rush for the open air. After some thirtyyards of toilsome progress he came to a sudden stop, discovering as hedid so the reason why the cavern had none of the vault-like stuffinesswhich he associated with many similar adventures at home. Through acleft in the rock ahead filtered a thin beam of light, but there was nopassage even for Tom's lithe frame, wasted though it was by a month'sillness. Tom was curious to know at what point of the cliff he hadarrived, and, returning to the opening of the cavern, he made signs toMbutu to betake himself to the hill overhead.

  Again retracing his steps, Tom thrust his alpenstock through the narrowopening, and shouted to attract Mbutu's attention, to the completediscomfiture of the bolder spirits among the feathered inmates of thecavern, which had clung to their homes throughout this alarming episode.Mbutu's quick ears easily caught the signal, and he had no difficulty indiscovering the cleft, which proved to be only a few feet from thestockade. Tom then returned by the road he had come, well satisfied withthis little adventure, which came as a welcome break in his enforcedidleness.

  A day or two after this, Tom said to Mbutu:

  "The people here are exceedingly kind, and I have learnt a great dealthat is extremely interesting; but we can't stay here for ever. Ishould think in another week I'll be strong enough to make tracks, eh?"

  "Sure nuff, sah. Nyanza ober dar;" he pointed almost due east; "chiefsend men too; help sah 'long."

  "As a sort of escort, you mean, for I don't want to be carried again. Ishan't forget that time in the forest, Mbutu, nor how much I owe to you.I feel years older, somehow; and, by the by, d'you think there's such athing as a razor in the village? I can't see myself, having nolooking-glass, but I feel that during that illness my face has got atrifle downy."

  "No razor, sah; Bahima pluck hair out. Muzema-wa-taba do it for sah."

  "That's the chief's pipe-lighter, isn't it? No, thanks! let himcontinue lighting his master's pipe. Talking of that, since everybodysmokes here, women included, I feel rather out of it without a pipe too;but really their tobacco is so--well, so intensely aromatic that I don'tcare to risk it. How that medicine-man scowls at me, by the way."Mabruki had just passed them. "I am extremely sorry to have been theunconscious means of upsetting his apple-cart; and I wish he'd seereason and make friends."

  "No like medicine-man," said Mbutu hurriedly, looking over his shoulderat the strange figure departing.

  "I wonder what he does in those little fetish-huts all round thevillage," added Tom. "Come now, d'you think he'd be pleased if I askedhim for one of those wooden charms I've seen him gibbering over?"

  "Nebber, nebber, sah," returned the boy earnestly. "Sah white man; nowant dem things; sah laugh inside."

  "Oh, it was only to please the man!--Here's our friend Msala coming. Iwonder why the light of his countenance is gone for once."

  The katikiro did indeed look unusually grave as he came up. In answerto Mbutu's enquiry, the regular formula "Is it well?" he replied that itwas certainly not well, for he had just discovered that one of his bestoxen, as well as two of the kasegara's, had died mysteriously during thenight. He could not account for it; they had shown no signs of sickness,and none of the other animals were affected. The devil Magaso hadhitherto confined his attentions to bananas; it seemed strange if he hadsuddenly become a destroyer of oxen. One of his Bairo herdsmen, saidthe katikiro, suggested that Muhoko, another evil spirit, had paid aflying visit to the village; but this suggestion he treated with scorn;he couldn't imagine a Bairo devil having the impudence to interfere withBahima property. Altogether, the usually genial official was decidedlyupset.

  "Perhaps they've got poison somehow," said Tom.

  Poison! It was unheard-of. The beasts would not of their own accordeat anything poisonous, and who should want to poison them?

  "Perhaps someone has a grudge against you and the kasegara."

  Against him, the katikiro! It was impossible. Wasn't he a friend toeveryone, never bad-tempered, never greedy, never in anybody's way? Thekasegara--oh! there might well be a grudge against him, for he thought agreat deal too much of himself, talked a great deal too volubly at thevillage palavers, and had yet to learn that he was inferior to thekatikiro after all.

  "No doubt," said Tom, inwardly amused at the whole affair. "Some enemyof the kasegara, then, has paid him out by poisoning two of his cattle,and got rid of one of yours too, by mistake. All cats are gray in thedark, you know."

  This explanation somewhat consoled the katikiro, when a Bahimaequivalent for the proverb had been found; and then, with Mbutu'sassistance, he engaged in animated conversation with Tom about the primeminister of the Great White King, whom he was very eager to emulate.

  The death of the cattle passed from Tom's mind, but two days later thewhole camp was in an uproar at the discovery that no fewer than sixother oxen had died in the same mysterious way. Tom, as he went withMbutu for his daily walk round the village, was surprised to find thatthe people looked much less pleasantly on him than usual. The changewas shown in more than looks. He beckoned to a handsome little boy offour, a special favourite of his, and the child was running to him whenhe was checked by a sharp call from his mother, who sent him howlinginto her hut.

  "This looks as though we're outstaying our welcome, Mbutu," said Tom."Perhaps we had better arrange to start in a couple of days, when thechief gets back from the hunt. I think I'm strong enough to manage thejourney if we don't have to hurry."

  That night, soon after Mbutu had settled to sleep in his usual placejust inside the doorway of his master's hut, he felt the stealthy touchof a hand upon his shoulder. He sprang up, wide awake in an instant.It was the katikiro's voice that spoke to him, and asked him to come outfor a little conversation. Surprised at his choosing such a time, Mbutufollowed him to the hut in which he had for the time taken up his abode,and there, in low tones, Msala explained the mystery of the villagers'changed attitude.

  It was due to the medicine-man, he said. That individual had been forsome time doing all he could to stir up the people against the whiteman, but had met with little success, so confident were they that theirchief would never have made a friend of a man likely to harm them. Butthe loss of the cattle had now given Mabruki a strong leverage. He hadgone about among the villagers, declaring that the Buchwezi, the spiritsof their ancestors, had revealed to him most positively that the whiteman was the cause of all their recent losses. The katikiro scouted thesuggestion, and had determined to show his friendliness towards Tom byacquainting him with the origin of the hostile movement. He advisedMbutu to lose no time in getting his master away from the village, forif the infatuation got a thorough hold of the people, even theprotection of the chief would be quite unable to save their lives.

  Mbutu returned to the hut in a state of unconquerable nervousness.After a sleepless night, he gave his master the information he hadreceived.

  "What bosh!" cried To
m, laughing. "What a fool the medicine-man mustbe! I don't see what he has to gain by putting this on to me.Supposing he worked up the people to tear me to pieces, he couldn't getrid of Barega, and Murasi would be as far from being chief as ever."

  "No, no, sah," said Mbutu, "him say sah kill oxen; berrah well. Chiefsay bosh; berrah well. Black men say no bosh; chief fool; white man himmaster; bad chief; must hab nudder chief. Oh yes! dat what medicine-mansay!"

  "I see; you mean he'll hit at the chief through me. Very well; we'll beoff as soon as the chief returns; he shan't suffer loss of prestigethrough me."

  On the second day after this, early in the morning, the chief returnedfrom a hunting-expedition, in high feather at having secured severalmagnificent tusks of ivory. But his jubilation was changed to terriblewrath when he was met by the news that two of the finest of his Himabulls were dead. The Bahima are intensely proud of their cattle, andany injury to them is most bitterly resented. When Barega heard thathis own loss was only the climax of similar losses among his principalofficers, he blazed forth in fury. He threatened to chop off everybody'shead, but contented himself with summoning his household officials,along with the medicine-man and other important tribesmen, to a palaver.At this it was decided, after very little discussion, that next day agreat smelling-out ceremonial should be held. The duty of conductingthis important and mystic rite naturally fell upon Mabruki, who at oncewent off with a gleeful look of satisfaction to make the necessarypreparations. As soon as he found an opportunity, the katikiro went toTom's hut, and urged him to fly instantly. The medicine-man wouldassuredly pitch on him as the worker of this evil spell on the cattle,and nothing could then save him.

  "Why should he? What have I done to him?"

  Then, without making an explicit statement, Msala hinted that Mabrukiwas bent on the white man's destruction, and had himself poisoned theoxen to that end.

  "And you expect me to run, eh?" said Tom. "No, my friend, I'll see thisthrough. I'm not going to abscond, and let that ass bray."

  Mbutu had still sufficient superstition to be greatly alarmed at hearingthe medicine-man called an ass. But the katikiro was greatly tickledwhen the boy reluctantly interpreted the opprobrious term, and he wentaway chuckling and clacking the native word kapa between his lips withmuch enjoyment. He had no objection to other people calling Mabrukinames.

  Early next morning the adult population assembled in a huge circle atthe south end of the village, waiting for the mysterious ceremony tobegin. There was an absence of the light-hearted chatter that goes onusually in a company of negroes; they were too much awe-stricken at theoccasion. At length the principal officials took their places, and thechief, in full dress, looking very grim in his leopard-skin mantle andantelope cap, seated himself on a rough stool, a large elephant's tuskbeing held on each side of him. Then he gave the order to beat thedrums; the great wooden instruments sent forth deep-booming notes fromtheir ox-hide heads, and the medicine-man appeared.

  He cut a most extraordinary figure. His fat legs and arms were smearedwith white kaolin; he wore a belt of cowries with bunches offetish-grass dangling all round it; on his head there was a remarkablehead-dress of feathers, and his face was hidden by a fantastic grimacingmask. In one hand he carried a bell, in the other a basket. He walkedslowly into the circle, treading gingerly, like a cat on hot bricks, andhalted in the centre of the silent crowd. Then the chief ordered thekatikiro to proclaim the reason for holding the assembly. Msala made anoration lasting fully half an hour, and licked his lips and slapped histhighs in thorough enjoyment of his own eloquence. Then was the turn ofthe medicine-man. In a hollow, sepulchral, and unsteady voice he beganto recite an incantation of the abracadabra sort. As he progressed heworked himself up into a state of frenzy. Then, depositing his basketand bell on the ground, he burned a few bunches of specially-preparedgrass which sent forth a nauseating smell. Moving to the immediate leftof the chief, he began to make the circuit of the crowd, ringing hisbell as he went. Save for the dong of the bell, there was a silence asof death; the natives, from the chief downwards, kept their eyes fixedon the circulating medicine-man, and not even the bleating of a calf,which had strayed into the village and poked its nose over the shoulderof one of the women, brought the faintest shadow of a smile to theirfaces, though the animal's mild stare of wonderment almost convulsedTom. Round went Mabruki, coming nearer to the spot where Tom stood onthe right of the chief. Mbutu's knees were knocking together; he gave agasp of relief when the medicine-man passed him. Suddenly Mabrukistopped; he was opposite to Tom, three yards away. He flourished hisbell up and down frantically, but no sound came from it. A groan wentround the circle; the chief turned and gave Tom an anxious and startledlook, and Mbutu had gone gray about the lips.

  Without a word the medicine-man returned to the centre of the circle.Laying down the bell, he took up the basket and again walked round thethrong, removing the lid of the basket as he came opposite eachindividual. He arrived at Tom, who was standing now with his hands inhis pockets, looking on with a smile of amusement mingled with contempt.There, though Mabruki apparently pulled with all his strength at the lidof the basket, it refused to come off. Angry cries arose from all partsof the circle; some of the men sprang up and shook their spearsmenacingly, but the medicine-man called for silence and began a frenzieddenunciation of the white man. It was he who had destroyed themuch-prized cattle; the Buchwezi had declared it. Before him the bellwould not ring, before him the basket-lid was immovable. The spiritshad given their doom; let the white man die!

  Tom still stood with his hands in his pockets, now gazing grimly at hisdenouncer. Inclined at first to pooh-pooh the whole business, he sawthat the people were impressed by the medicine-man's harangue, and thatthe chief was troubled and perplexed. "Poor fellow!" thought Tom, "Isuppose he'll have to give in." It was of no use his merely denying thecharge, he very well knew. It was equally useless to engage in a war ofwords with Mabruki. It was a time for action, prompt and vigorous. Hisresolution was instantly taken. Almost before the last words were out ofMabruki's mouth, he stepped before the chief, bidding Mbutu accompanyhim, and asked to be allowed to speak. Then, in a clear confidentvoice, he began his first public speech, the words, unpremeditated asthey were, pouring from his lips with a fluency that surprised him andtaxed Mbutu's interpretative powers to the full.

  "I am amazed, O Barega," he said, "that you, and the mighty tribe yourule, should be swayed by an ignorant, stupid humbug like Mabruki. Lookat him, forsooth! He can't stand straight; he has been feeding hiscourage on tubs of museru till he is fuddled. He says I destroyed thecattle. Why should I, a stranger to whom you, O Barega, have shown somany kindnesses--why should I so basely return evil for your good, andbring death among those who brought me back to life? There is no sensein it. You believe your medicine-man? I don't care that for yourmedicine-man." (He walked slowly to the centre,--Mabruki, with eyesglaring through the mask, retreating before him,--and with two kickssent the bell and the basket flying among the negroes, who watched himin dumb amazement.) "I will prove to you that his medicine is nomedicine. To-morrow at sunset, do you, Barega, call your tribetogether, and I will bring medicine to match against Mabruki's. Thenshall you see whose medicine is the stronger; then shall you see that Iam a true man, and know Mabruki for the sham he is. Shall it be so?"

  A murmur of assent ran round the ring. Tom's dauntless bearing andconfident words, a little amplified perhaps in places by hisinterpreter; above all, the fact that he had kicked the magic bell andbasket without suffering instant hurt; had made their impression on thenatives. And the negro dearly loves a show. The prospect of a similarbut more novel entertainment entranced them. The medicine-man was in nocondition to offer a protest; he had seized the opportunity to takefrequent pulls at a gourd of museru, and, exhausted by his own violence,he now lay a fuddled, huddled heap on the ground. The chief,unfeignedly glad of the turn events had taken, consulted with hisofficers, and was strong
ly urged by the katikiro to agree to Tom'sproposal. The trial of strength was fixed then for the evening of thefollowing day, and the assembly broke up. Now all tongues were loosed;every incident in the strange scene was canvassed by two thousandchattering negroes. Some openly expressed their belief that thefearless white man would effectually squelch the unhappy discreditedmedicine-man, while others still had confidence in Mabruki, and expectedthat even yet the white man would smart for his impiety.

  Tom spent the rest of that day in seclusion. He was making medicine,was Mbutu's invariable answer to enquiries. The white man was makingmedicine!--the word flew round the village, and even the most scepticalbegan to believe there was something in it. Just before sunset Tom sentfor the katikiro, who had been bursting with curiosity to know what wasgoing on in his own hut. Darkness fell, and the stars appeared, and yethe remained with Tom. The chief, in the hut adjoining, once or twicefancied he heard the sounds of stifled laughter. Unable to containhimself, he went quietly to Tom's hut, and crept in before Mbutu hadtime to interpose. Tom was standing in the middle, with arms akimbo,smiling down at the katikiro, who was sitting on the floor fairlyshaking with half-suppressed merriment. He got up rather sheepishlywhen he saw his chief looking grimly at him, and sidled out of the hut.Tom turned to the chief and said cheerfully:

  "I was only finishing my medicine-making, chief. Everything is readynow."

  "Ah, um! Are you quite sure that your medicine will be stronger thanMabruki's? If not, I would urge you to flee at once; I will send trustymen with you. For if Mabruki prevails to-morrow my people will claim aterrible revenge."

  "Don't be alarmed, chief. I will answer for my medicine. I hope yoursleep won't be disturbed; as for me, I have been working hard, and wanta good night's rest."

  Very early next morning the villagers began to assemble on the site ofthe previous day's ceremony. Time does not exist for the negro; sunriseand sundown are his only periods, and the people were quite content tosquat in a circle through all the long hot day. The crowd was largerthan ever; all the boys and girls had been brought to see the show.Villagers, even, from outlying parts had come in, the news having spreadwith that wonderful speed which is one of the most striking phenomena inAfrican life. Nor were the tongues of the people tied by any feeling ofsolemnity; on the previous day they might have been compared to thecongregation in a cathedral, to-day they were like the spectators at acircus.

  Sunset was the time fixed for the trial of strength. As the sundisappeared the officials came from their huts, the katikiro apparentlyrelishing his recollection of the previous night's amusement, andfailing lamentably to maintain the dignity of his office. Themedicine-man was brought in; he had wisely laid aside his flummery, andlooked more ghastly than ever in his coating of kaolin. The chiefentered the ring, with his drummers and tusk-bearers, followed by Tom,and a score of torch-bearers ranged themselves around.

  Just as Barega reached his place a man came dashing up the village fromthe northern gate, never pausing till he stood before the chief. It wasone of the principal scouts. In breathless haste he stated that he hadlearned that a strong Arab force was advancing through the forest. Itwas bent on some great enterprise, for the caravan included thousands ofslaves, carrying all the paraphernalia of a camp and large stores ofprovisions. It was by this time only twelve marches away, and wascoming steadily in the direction of the village. The news went throughthe assembly in an instant, and silenced every tongue. The medicine-manstraightened himself, and with something of his former assuranceproclaimed that the white man was accountable, and that unless he wereexpelled or slain the village would fall an easy prey to the enemy. Heevidently welcomed the diversion, and was preparing for a long harangue,when Tom, advancing, stilled the gathering murmurs with an imperiousgesture.

  "Chief," he said, "heed not what the medicine-man says. It is a trial ofstrength between our magic to-day; if his medicine proves the stronger,turn me out or slay me; but if mine, then I promise you I will not leaveyou till we have made a good account with your Arab foes. I know theArabs; I have fought them; I have been a prisoner among them andescaped; I saved you from them. Is it a bargain?"

  Loud shouts of assent broke from the whole company, and the chief, witha dignified inclination of the head, said: "It shall be so." Then, amidbreathless silence, the trial of strength commenced.

  Tom had resolved from the outset that he would make no attempt topersuade the natives that Mabruki's medicine was mere vanity andhollowness. Superstitions generations old could not be banished in anight. His object was to show, not that the medicine did not exist, butthat it was poor medicine, quite unworthy of an important village, andnot to be compared with the medicine he himself had at command. He beganwith a short speech in which he recited the history of the affair up tothe present, finding it rather difficult to get on without theinterpreting aid of Mbutu, who was not at hand. He laid stress on thestrange disaster that had befallen the primest cattle, and reminded thepeople how the medicine-man had professed to discover that he was thecause, if not the agent, of the death of the bulls. If this accusationwas merely the outcome of spite and hatred, the Bahima would know howmuch reliance to place on it. If, however, it were really due to theoperation of Mabruki's magic--here Tom turned swiftly toward themedicine-man, and cried: "We shall see what faith can be placed on thewords of an ignoramus like this. Bahima and Bairo, look!"

  He seized the bell, which the medicine-man had placed on the basket athis feet. Mabruki stood mute and motionless with astonishment as Tom,ringing the bell with the same large gestures as his enemy, began tomarch round the circle. Before he had walked ten paces Tom found, as hehad expected, that by a simple mechanical contrivance the clapper couldbe fixed at the will of the performer, and the trick had not beendiscovered only because no one else in the village had dared to touchthe magic bell. He walked on solemnly round the circle until he came tothe place where Mabruki stood scowling, and then, though he agitated thebell with more than ordinary violence, not a sound came from it.

  Tom surprises Mabruki]

  There was for a moment a silence as of death. Then a low growl rumbledround the throng. The katikiro laughed, the chief frowned ominously, asTom, keeping a wary eye on Mabruki, flung the bell contemptuously at hisfeet. The medicine-man was livid with wrath. The scorn of his enemy,the murmurs of the spectators, the despiteful usage of his fetish, whoseterrors were now gone for ever, were too much for him. With a snarl ofrage the burly negro hurled himself at Tom, aiming a vicious blow at himwith a strangely-carved fetish staff he carried in his hand. It was thevery move Tom had intended to provoke; if only Mabruki could be goadedto attack him he was confident of the issue. His confidence appeared tobe shared by Msala, who, alone of that vast throng, seemed to be excitedrather with suppressed merriment than with any emotion of doubt or fear.The crowd gazed open-mouthed, for Mabruki was to all appearance easilyable to overpower the slim stripling opposed to him. But as the big manlurched forward Tom stepped nimbly aside and evaded the blow. BeforeMabruki could recover he found his wrist firmly grasped, and was jerkedsharply forward, his elbow being gripped as in a vice by Tom's lefthand. Then Tom brought into play a trick of Japanese wrestling he hadlearnt from a ship's engineer, who had taken advantage of visits to theisland empire to make a study of methods unrecognized and unknown inCumberland and Cornwall. The medicine-man instinctively resisted whenhe felt the forward pull. Instantly reversing his movement, Tom pushedhis opponent's elbow up with the left hand while pulling his handoutwards and downwards with the right. At the same time he placed hisleg behind his opponent's knee, and before the astonished magician couldrealize what was happening, with a sharp jerk he was thrown on to hisback, the earth seeming to shake under his seventeen stone ofcorpulence.

  The whole operation had not occupied more than a few seconds. Themedicine-man in an African village is rather feared than beloved; he hascountless ways of making his dreaded tyranny felt. When, therefore, thepeople sa
w the man whose power they had held in awe so rapidlyoverthrown, apparently without any exertion on the part of his opponent,a great shout of mocking laughter burst from them. The katikiro wasbent double with delight, and even Barega's face relaxed its habitualgravity, Mabruki, with no breath left in his unwieldy body, thoroughlycowed, was in no condition to renew the attack. He still lay upon theground as Tom explained that he had turned Mabruki's medicine upon him,and shown that white medicine had enabled himself to do what no otherman among them, not even the strongest, could have accomplished.Mabruki had brought his humiliation upon himself.

  "But this," he added, "is mere trifling. In my country we leave suchsimple things to the children. If you wish to see what the white man'smagic is like, pay heed to what I am about to do. And I warn you, besatisfied with that, lest worse befall."

  He walked slowly to the centre of the circle, where the huge king-drumwas placed. The glare of the torches lit up the hundreds of eagerfaces, all gazing at him with eyes opened to their widest. Even thekatikiro, who had shown no surprise at the previous feats, looked on nowwith an air of fearful expectancy.

  "Put out your torches!" cried Tom.

  One by one the lights were extinguished. The whole village was coveredwith the black darkness of a moonless tropical night. For half a minutethere was absolute silence; then, taking the drum-stick, Tom smote thedrum with three measured strokes.

  Boom! boom! boom!

  The hollow sounds rolled away and died in the distance. Nothing could beheard but the quick pants of the waiting crowd. A light breeze hadsprung up, grateful after the day's heat, and from far in the distancecame faintly the trumpet note of an elephant, followed by the quick barkof a hyena. Again Tom struck the drum.

  Boom! boom! boom!

  A moment later he noticed a glow in the tree-tops of a plantationthree-quarters of a mile to the west. The silent throng was stilllooking towards him, trying to pierce the darkness. The glow increasedrapidly in brightness, defining itself as a globe of fire.

  B-r-r-rrrrrrrr!

  A tremendous roll from the drum woke rumbling echoes all around.Pointing dramatically with his drum-stick into the sky, Tom cried:"Behold!"

  The crowd turned as one man. A huge blazing globe was advancing slowlytowards them out of the darkness. The effect was stupendous. For amoment the throng was inarticulate with dread. Then murmurs of feararose. Some of the women shrieked; many of the children buried theirfaces in their mothers' bosoms. Most of the men sank into theircustomary abject attitude of supplication; others were too terrified tomove, and gazed upwards in stupefaction at the advancing and ascendingball of fire. It came slowly along on the breeze, passed almostdirectly over the village, then mounted higher and higher into the skyas it drifted eastward. The crowd watched it in awe-struck silence asit grew smaller and smaller in the distance, and at last disappeared asa tiny speck on the horizon.

  A gasp of relief rose from the throng. Barega cried again for torches;by their light Mabruki could be seen shaking like an aspen, the evidenceof superior medicine having overpowered him altogether. Among thepeople there was the inevitable reaction. Their fear being removed,they turned against the medicine-man and assailed him with vehementcries of scorn. Barega sent for his executioner, and announced hisimmediate intention of having Mabruki's head. But Tom called aloud forsilence, and beckoning Mbutu, who with the torches had suddenly appearedat his side, said:

  "Barega and Barega's men," he said, "you have seen with your own eyes.You saw that with Mabruki's own bell I proved against him, if suchchildish folly can be called a proof, what he had proved against me.You saw that when he tried to fell me with his weighty fist, with a mereturn of the hand I laid him low. And now you have seen how, strikingyour own king-drum, Bugandanwe, I summoned a globe of fire from thetrees yonder, and how it sailed away out of sight with a message to themorning chamber of the sun. The trial is made; who has the strongermedicine--Mabruki or I?"

  "You, the muzungu!" shouted every creature in the throng.

  "And do you, O Barega, any longer believe that I caused the death ofyour cattle?"

  "No, no; I do not believe it. If any of my people believes it, he shallsurely die!"

  Barega glared round the circle of his trembling subjects, as if to dareany of them to confess himself a doubter.

  "No one believes it," said Tom quickly. "Now I tell you this," headded, turning to Barega; "you will lose no more cattle, my friend.Your losses are due to Mabruki's bad medicine."

  "I will have his head!" cried Barega furiously.

  "Wait, my brother. Let me plead for him. What will his death avail?It will not bring back your cattle. No, it is for the strong to showmercy. What shall be his doom? Let it be this, that he give toeveryone who has lost cattle by this strange death one bull for everybull that died, you, O chief, to choose first among his beasts. Andmark, if in the days to come any cattle die in the same way, let Mabrukigive the owner two bulls for every one that so dies. My medicine is notconcerned with cattle; but I think Mabruki has enough medicine left topreserve your cattle henceforth."

  The suggestion met with instant approval, and Mabruki himself dared notraise a protest. As he slunk shamefaced away, the assembly broke up, todiscuss the wonderful occurrences with shouting and laughter for hoursafterwards.

  Tom walked quietly back to his hut.

  "You did it very well, Mbutu," he said.

  Mbutu grinned.

  "Like it berrah much, sah," he said; "jolly good bloony bloon."

  "Yes; and we must never repeat the performance. We will not stale ourbig medicine, Mbutu."

  The explanation of the wonderful event was simplicity itself.

  When Tom had offered to pit himself against Mabruki, he had in his mindthe trick of Japanese wrestling. But that was hardly sufficient,perhaps, to impress the people, and he resolved to attempt somethingeven more startling. While thinking over the matter, he remembered howamazed he had been himself when, as a young child, he first saw aballoon. Could he make a fire-balloon? Suddenly he bethought him of aroll of Indian silk he had seen among the chief's possessions. Surelythat would provide the very material he required. He persuaded thechief to give him a few lengths from the roll, and during the time ofhis seclusion in the hut he had, with Mbutu's assistance, cut the silkinto strips, stuck them together with a natural gum obtained from treesnear, stitched the seams together, smeared the whole surface with gum tomake it air-tight, and bent a thin sapling to hold open the mouth of theballoon, with a light pan dangling from it to hold combustible materialsteeped in spirit. Mbutu had smuggled the balloon into the plantationon the previous night, while Tom was engaged in practising his wrestlingtrick on the katikiro. When the performance began with the ringing ofthe bell, Mbutu had inflated the envelope with hot air over a largecharcoal fire, and at the second drum-signal had ignited thespirit-soaked material, and let the balloon rise.

  Before Tom retired to rest that night, the katikiro came to him andhumbly begged to know how he had made fire come from the tree-tops.

  "Msala, my friend," said Tom, smiling, "that is my secret. We cannot alldo everything; too much learning, like too much museru, might turn yourhead. Be satisfied with getting your cattle replaced, and take my wordfor it that you will never lose your bulls in the same way again."

 

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