CHAPTER XII
THE FIRST CURSE
The next thing I remember was feeling upon my face the sunlight thatpoured through a window-place which was protected by immovable woodenbars. For a while I lay still, reflecting as memory returned to me uponall the events of the previous day and upon my present unhappy position.Here I was a prisoner in the hands of a horde of fierce savages who hadevery reason to hate me, for though this was done in self-defence, hadI not killed a number of their people against whom personally I had noquarrel? It was true that their king had promised me safety, but whatreliance could be put upon the word of such a man? Unless somethingoccurred to save me, without doubt my days were numbered. In this wayor in that I should be murdered, which served me right for ever enteringupon such a business.
The only satisfactory point in the story was that, for the present atany rate, Ragnall and Savage had escaped, though doubtless sooner orlater fate would overtake them also. I was sure that they had escaped,since two of the camelmen with us had informed Marut that they saw themswept away surrounded by our people and quite unharmed. Now they wouldbe grieving over my death, since none survived who could tell themof our capture, unless the Black Kendah chose to do so, which was notlikely. I wondered what course they would take when Ragnall found thathis quest was vain, as of course must happen. Try to get out of thecountry, I suppose, as I prayed they might succeed in doing, though thiswas most improbable.
Then there was Hans. He of course would attempt to retrace our roadacross the desert, if he had got clear away. Having a good camel,a rifle and some ammunition, it was just possible that he might winthrough, as he never forgot a path which he had once travelled, thoughprobably in a week's time a few bones upon the desert would be all thatremained of him. Well, as he had suggested, perhaps we should soon betalking the event over in some far sphere with my father--and others.Poor old Hans!
I opened my eyes and looked about me. The first thing I noticed was thatmy double-barrelled pistol, which I had placed at full cock besideme before I went to sleep, was gone, also my large clasp-knife. Thisdiscovery did not tend to raise my spirits, since I was now quiteweaponless. Then I observed Marut seated on the floor of the hut staringstraight in front of him, and noted that at length even he had ceased tosmile, but that his lips were moving as though he were engaged in prayeror meditation.
"Marut," I said, "someone has been in this place while we were asleepand stolen my pistol and knife."
"Yes, Lord," he answered, "and my knife also. I saw them come in themiddle of the night, two men who walked softly as cats, and searchedeverything."
"Then why did you not wake me?"
"What would have been the use, Lord? If we had caught hold of the men,they would have called out and we should have been murdered at once. Itwas best to let them take the things, which after all are of no good tous here."
"The pistol might have been of some good," I replied significantly.
"Yes," he said, nodding, "but at the worst death is easy to find."
"Do you think, Marut, that we could manage to let Harut and the othersknow our plight? That smoke which I breathed in England, for instance,seemed to show me far-off things--if we could get any of it."
"The smoke was nothing, Lord, but some harmless burning powder whichclouded your mind for a minute, and enabled you to see the thoughts thatwere in _our_ minds. _We_ drew the pictures at which you looked. Alsohere there is none."
"Oh!" I said, "the old trick of suggestion; just what I imagined. Thenthere's an end of that, and as the others will think that we aredead and we cannot communicate with them, we have no hope except inourselves."
"Or the Child," suggested Marut gently.
"Look here!" I said with irritation. "After you have just told me thatyour smoke vision was a mere conjurer's trick, how do you expect meto believe in your blessed Child? Who is the Child? What is the Child,and--this is more important--what can it do? As your throat is going tobe cut shortly you may as well tell me the truth."
"Lord Macumazana, I will. Who and what the Child is I cannot say becauseI do not know. But it has been our god for thousands of years, and webelieve that our remote forefathers brought it with them when they weredriven out of Egypt at some time unknown. We have writings concerning itdone up in little rolls, but as we cannot read them they are of no useto us. It has an hereditary priesthood, of which Harut my uncle, for heis my uncle, is the head. We believe that the Child is God, or rathera symbol in which God dwells, and that it can save us in this world andthe next, for we hold that man is an immortal spirit. We believe alsothat through its Oracle--a priestess who is called Guardian of theChild--it can declare the future and bring blessings or curses upon men,especially upon our enemies. When the Oracle dies we are helplesssince the Child has no 'mouth' and our enemies prevail against us. Thishappened a long while ago, and the last Oracle having declared beforeher death that her successor was to be found in England, my uncle and Itravelled thither disguised as conjurers and made search for many years.We thought that we had found the new Oracle in the lady who married theLord Igeza, because of that mark of the new moon upon her neck. Afterour return to Africa, however, for as I have spoken of this matter I mayas well tell you all," here he stared me full in the eyes and spoke ina clear metallic voice which somehow no longer convinced me, "we foundthat we had made a mistake, for the real Oracle, a mere girl, wasdiscovered among our own people, and has now been for two yearsinstalled in her office. Without doubt the last Guardian of the Childwas wandering in her mind when she told us that story before her deathas to a woman in England, a country of which she had heard throughArabs. That is all."
"Thank you," I replied, feeling that it would be useless to show anysuspicion of his story. "Now will you be so good as to tell me who andwhat is the god, or the elephant Jana, whom you have brought me here tokill? Is the elephant a god, or is the god an elephant? In either casewhat has it to do with the Child?"
"Lord, Jana among us Kendah represents the evil in the world, as theChild represents the good. Jana is he whom the Mohammedans call Shaitanand 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 Marut, "there has been war between the Child and Jana,that is, between Good and Evil, and we know that in the end one of themmust conquer the other."
"The whole world has known that from the beginning," I interrupted. "Butwho and what is this Jana?"
"Among the Black Kendah, Lord, Jana is an elephant, or at any rate hissymbol is an elephant, a very terrible beast to which sacrifices aremade, that kills all who do not worship him if he chances to meet them.He lives farther on in the forest yonder, and the Black Kendah make useof 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, forit is known by its size and by the fact that one of its tusks is twisteddownwards."
"Well," I remarked, "all this proves nothing, since elephants certainlylive for at least two hundred years, and perhaps much longer. Also,after they become 'rogues' they acquire every kind of wicked andunnatural habit, as to which I could tell you lots of stories. Have youseen this elephant?"
"No, Macumazana," he answered with a shiver. "If I had seen it shouldI have been alive to-day? Yet I fear I am fated to see it ere long,not alone," and again he shivered, looking at me in a very suggestivemanner.
At this moment our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of twoBlack Kendahs who brought us our breakfast of porridge and a boiledfowl, and stood there while we ate it. For my part I was not sorry, asI had learned all I wanted to know of the theological opinions andpractice of the land, and had come to the conclusion that the terribledevil-god of the Black Kendah was merely a rogue elephant of unusualsize and ferocity, which under other circumstan
ces it would have givenme the greatest pleasure to try to shoot.
When we had finished eating, that is soon, for neither of our appetiteswas good that morning, we walked out of the house into the surroundingcompound and visited the camelmen in their hut. Here we found themsquatted on the ground looking very depressed indeed. When I asked themwhat was the matter they replied, "Nothing," except that they were menabout to die and life was pleasant. Also they had wives and childrenwhom they would never see again.
Having tried to cheer them up to the best of my ability, which I fear Idid without conviction, for in my heart I agreed with their view of thecase, we returned to the guest-house and mounted the stair which led tothe flat roof. Hence we saw that some curious ceremony was in progressin the centre of the market-place. At that distance we could not makeout the details, for I forgot to say that my glasses had been stolenwith the pistol and knife, probably because they were supposed to belethal weapons or instruments of magic.
A rough altar had been erected, on which a fire burned. Behind it theking, Simba, was seated on a stool with various councillors about him.In front of the altar was a stout wooden table, on which lay whatlooked like the body of a goat or a sheep. A fantastically dressed man,assisted by other men, appeared to be engaged in inspecting the insideof this animal with, we gathered, unsatisfactory results, for presentlyhe raised his arms and uttered a loud wail. Then the creature's viscerawere removed from it and thrown upon the fire, while the rest of thecarcass was carried off.
I asked Marut what he thought they were doing. He replied dejectedly:
"Consulting their Oracle; perhaps as to whether we should live or die,Macumazana."
Just then the priest in the strange, feathered attire approached theking, carrying some small object in his hand. I wondered what it couldbe, till the sound of a report reached my ears and I saw the man beginto jump round upon one leg, holding the other with both his hands at theknee and howling loudly.
"Ah!" I said, "that pistol was full cocked, and the bullet got him inthe foot."
Simba shouted out something, whereon a man picked up the pistol andthrew it into the fire, round which the others gathered to watch itburn.
"You wait," I said to Marut, and as I spoke the words the inevitablehappened.
Off went the other barrel of the pistol, which hopped out of the firewith the recoil like a living thing. But as it happened one of theassistant priests was standing in front of the mouth of that barrel, andhe also hopped once, but never again, for the heavy bullet struck himsomewhere in the body and killed him. Now there was consternation.Everyone ran away, leaving the dead man lying on the ground. Simba ledthe rout and the head-priest brought up the rear, skipping along uponone leg.
Having observed these events, which filled me with an unholy joy, wedescended into the house again as there was nothing more to see, alsobecause it occurred to me that our presence on the roof, watching theirdiscomfiture, might irritate these savages. About ten minutes later thegate of the fence round the guest-house was thrown open, and through itcame four men carrying on a stretcher the body of the priest whom thebullet had killed, which they laid down in front of our door. Thenfollowed the king with an armed guard, and after him the befeathereddiviner with his foot bound up, who supported himself upon the shouldersof two of his colleagues. This man, I now perceived, wore a hideousmask, from which projected two tusks in imitation of those of anelephant. Also there were others, as many as the space 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, pointingfirst to the dead priest, then to the diviner's wounded foot.
"It is no work of ours, King Simba," answered Marut. "It is your ownwork. You stole the magic weapon of the white lord and made it angry, sothat it has revenged itself upon you."
"It is true," said Simba, "that the tube has killed one of those whotook it away from you and wounded the other" (here was luck indeed)."But it was you who ordered it to do so, magicians. Now, hark! YesterdayI promised you safety, that no spear should pierce your hearts and noknife come near your throats, and drank the cup of peace with you. Butyou have broken the pact, working us more harm, and therefore it nolonger holds, since there are many other ways in which men can die.Listen again! This is my decree. By your magic you have taken away thelife of one of my servants and hurt another of my servants, destroyingthe middle toe of his left foot. If within three days you do not giveback the life to him who seems to be dead, and give back the toe to himwho seems to be hurt, as you well can do, then you shall join those whomyou have slain in the land of death, how I will not tell you."
Now when I heard this amazing sentence I gasped within myself, butthinking it better to keep up my role of understanding nothing of theirtalk, I preserved an immovable countenance and left Marut to answer.This, to his credit be it recorded, he did with his customary pleasantsmile.
"O King," he said, "who can bring the dead back to life? Not even theChild itself, at any rate in this world, for there is no way."
"Then, Prophet of the Child, you had better find a way, or, I repeat, Isend you to join them," he shouted, rolling his eyes.
"What did my brother, the great Prophet, promise to you but yesterday,O King, if you harmed us?" asked Marut. "Was it not that the three greatcurses should fall upon your people? Learn now that if so much as oneof us is murdered by you, these things shall swiftly come to pass. I,Marut, who am also a Prophet of the Child, have said it."
Now Simba seemed to go quite mad, so mad that I thought all was over. Hewaved his spear and danced about in front of us, till the silver chainsclanked upon his breast. He vituperated the Child and its worshippers,who, he declared, had worked evil on the Black Kendah for generations.He appealed to his god Jana to avenge these evils, "to pierce the Childwith his tusks, to tear it with his trunk, and to trample it with hisfeet," all of which the wounded diviner ably seconded through his horridmask.
There we stood before him, I leaning against the wall of the house withan air of studied nonchalance mingled with mild interest, at least thatis what I meant to do, and Marut smiling sweetly and staring at theheavens. Whilst I was wondering what exact portion of my frame wasdestined to become acquainted with that spear, of a sudden Simba gave itup. Turning to his followers, he bade them dig a hole in the corner ofour little enclosure and set the dead man in it, "with his head out sothat he may breathe," an order which they promptly executed.
Then he issued a command that we should be well fed and tended, andremarking that if the departed was not alive and healthy on the thirdmorning from that day, we should hear from him again, he and his companystalked off, except those men who were occupied with the interment.
Soon this was finished also. There sat the deceased buried to the neckwith his face looking towards the house, a most disagreeable sight.Presently, however, matters were improved in this respect by one of thesextons fetching a large earthenware pot and several smaller pots fullof food and water. The latter they set round the head, I suppose for thesustenance of the body beneath, and then placed the big vessel invertedover all, "to keep the sun off our sleeping brother," as I heard one sayto the other.
This pot looked innocent enough when all was done, like one of thosethat gardeners in England put over forced rhubarb, no more. And yet,such is the strength of the imagination, I think that on the whole Ishould have preferred the object underneath naked and unadorned. Forinstance, I have forgotten to say that the heads of those of the WhiteKendah who had fallen in the fight had been set up on poles in front ofSimba's house. They were unpleasant to contemplate, but to my mind notso unpleasant as that pot.
As a matter of fact, this precaution against injury from the sun to thelate diviner proved unnecessary, since by some strange chance fromthat moment the sun ceased to shine. Quite suddenly clouds arose whichgradually covered the whole sky and the
weather began to turn very cold,unprecedentedly so, Marut informed me, for the time of year, which, itwill be remembered, in this country was the season just before harvest.Obviously the Black Kendah thought so also, since from our seats on theroof, whither we had retreated to be as far as possible from the pot, wesaw them gathered in the market-place, staring at the sky and talking toeach other.
The day passed without any further event, except the arrival of ourmeals, for which we had no great appetite. The night came, earlier thanusual because of the clouds, and we fell asleep, or rather into a seriesof dozes. Once I thought that I heard someone stirring in the hutsbehind us, but as it was followed by silence I took no more notice. Atlength the light broke very slowly, for now the clouds were denserthan ever. Shivering with the cold, Marut and I made a visit to thecamel-drivers, who were not allowed to enter our house. On going intotheir hut we saw to our horror that only two of them remained, seatedstonily upon the floor. We asked where the third was. They replied theydid not know. In the middle of the night, they said, men had crept in,who seized, bound and gagged him, then dragged him away. As there wasnothing to be said or done, we returned to breakfast filled with horridfears.
Nothing happened that day except that some priests arrived, liftedthe earthenware pot, examined their departed colleague, who by now hadbecome an unencouraging spectacle, removed old dishes of food, arrangedmore about him, and went off. Also the clouds grew thicker and thicker,and the air more and more chilly, till, had we been in any northernlatitude, I should have said that snow was pending. From our perch onthe roof-top I observed the population of Simba Town discussing theweather with ever-increasing eagerness; also that the people who weregoing out to work in the fields wore mats over their shoulders.
Once more darkness came, and this night, notwithstanding the cold, wespent wrapped in rugs, on the roof of the house. It had occurred to usthat kidnapping would be less easy there, as we could make some sort ofa fight at the head of the stairway, or, if the worst came to the worst,dive from the parapet and break our necks. We kept watch turn and turnabout. During my watch about midnight I heard a noise going on in thehut behind us; scuffling and a stifled cry which turned my blood cold.About an hour later a fire was lighted in the centre of the market-placewhere the sheep had been sacrificed, and by the flare of it I could seepeople moving. But what they did I could not see, which was perhaps aswell.
Next morning only one of the camelmen was left. This remaining man wasnow almost crazy with fear, and could give no clear account of what hadhappened to his companion.
The poor fellow implored us to take him away to our house, as he fearedto be left alone with "the black devils." We tried to do so, but armedguards appeared mysteriously and thrust him back into his own hut.
This day was an exact repetition of the others. The same inspection ofthe deceased and renewal of his food; the same cold, clouded sky, thesame agitated conferences in the market-place.
For the third time darkness fell upon us in that horrible place. Oncemore we took refuge on the roof, but this night neither of us slept.We were too cold, too physically miserable, and too filled with mentalapprehensions. All nature seemed to be big with impending disaster. Thesky appeared to be sinking down upon the earth. The moon was hidden, yeta faint and lurid light shone now in one quarter of the horizon, now inanother. There was no wind, but the air moaned audibly. It was as thoughthe end of the world were near as, I reflected, probably might bethe case so far as we were concerned. Never, perhaps, have I felt sospiritually terrified as I was during the dreadful inaction of thatnight. Even if I had known that I was going to be executed at dawn, Ithink that by comparison I should have been light-hearted. But the worstpart of the business was that I knew nothing. I was like a man forced towalk through dense darkness among precipices, quite unable to guess whenmy journey would end in space, but enduring all the agonies of death atevery step.
About midnight again we heard that scuffle and stifled cry in the hutbehind us.
"He's gone," I whispered to Marut, wiping the cold sweat from my brow.
"Yes," answered Marut, "and very soon we shall follow him, Macumazana."
I wished that his face were visible so that I could see if he stillsmiled when he uttered those words.
An hour or so later the usual fire appeared in the marketplace, roundwhich the usual figures flitted dimly. The sight of them fascinatedme, although I did not want to look, fearing what I might see. Luckily,however, we were too far off to discern anything at night.
While these unholy ceremonies were in progress the climax came, that isso far as the weather was concerned. Of a sudden a great gale sprangup, a gale of icy wind such as in Southern Africa sometimes precedesa thunderstorm. It blew for half an hour or more, then lulled. Nowlightning flashed across the heavens, and by the glare of it weperceived that all the population of Simba Town seemed to be gathered inthe market-place. At least there were some thousands of them, talking,gesticulating, pointing at the sky.
A few minutes later there came a great crash of thunder, of which itwas impossible to locate the sound, for it rolled from everywhere. Thensuddenly something hard struck the roof by my side and rebounded, to befollowed next moment by a blow upon my shoulder which nearly knocked meflat, although I was well protected by the skin rugs.
"Down the stair!" I called. "They are stoning us," and suited the actionto the word.
Ten seconds later we were both in the room, crouched in its farthercorner, for the stones or whatever they were seemed to be following us.I struck a match, of which fortunately I had some, together with my pipeand a good pocketful of tobacco--my only solace in those days--and, asit burned up, saw first that blood was running down Marut's face,and secondly, that these stones were great lumps of ice, some of themweighing several ounces, which hopped about the floor like live things.
"Hailstorm!" remarked Marut with his accustomed smile.
"Hell storm!" I replied, "for whoever saw hail like that before?"
Then the match burnt out and conversation came to an end for the reasonthat we could no longer hear each other speak. The hail came down witha perpetual, rattling roar, that in its sum was one of the most terriblesounds to which I ever listened. And yet above it I thought that I couldcatch another, still more terrible, the wail of hundreds of people inagony. After the first few minutes I began to be afraid that the roofwould be battered in, or that the walls would crumble beneath thisperpetual fire of the musketry of heaven. But the cement was good andthe place well built.
So it came about that the house stood the tempest, which had it beenroofed with tiles or galvanized iron I am sure it would never have done,since the lumps of ice must have shattered one and pierced the otherlike paper. Indeed I have seen this happen in a bad hailstorm inNatal which killed my best horse. But even that hail was as snowflakescompared to this.
I suppose that this natural phenomenon continued for about twentyminutes, not more, during ten of which it was at its worst. Then bydegrees it ceased, the sky cleared and the moon shone out beautifully.We climbed to the roof again and looked. It was several inches deep injagged ice, while the market-place and all the country round appeared inthe bright moonlight to be buried beneath a veil of snow.
Very rapidly, as the normal temperature of that warm land reasserteditself, this snow or rather hail melted, causing a flood of water which,where there was any fall, began to rush away with a gurgling sound. Alsowe heard other sounds, such as that from the galloping hoofs of manyof the horses which had broken loose from their wrecked stables atthe north end of the market-place, where in great number they had beenkilled by the falling roofs or had kicked each other to death, and awild universal wail that rose from every quarter of the big town, inwhich quantities of the worst-built houses had collapsed. Further, lyinghere and there about the market-place we could see scores of dark shapesthat we knew to be those of men, women and children, whom those sharpmissiles hurled from heaven had caught before they could escape andslain or wounded almos
t to death. For it will be remembered that perhapsnot fewer than two thousand people were gathered on this market-place,attending the horrid midnight sacrifice and discussing the unnaturalweather when the storm burst upon them suddenly as an avalanche.
"The Child is small, yet its strength is great. Behold the first curse!"said Marut solemnly.
I stared at him, but as he chose to believe that a very unusualhailstorm was a visitation from heaven I did not think it worth whilearguing the point. Only I wondered if he really did believe this. ThenI remembered that such an event was said to have afflicted the oldEgyptians in the hour of their pride because they would not "let thepeople go." Well, these blackguardedly Black Kendah were certainly worsethan the Egyptians can ever have been; also they would not let _us_go. It was not wonderful therefore that Marut should be the victim ofphantasies on the matter.
Not until the following morning did we come to understand the fullextent of the calamity which had overtaken the Black Kendah. I think Ihave said that their crops this year were magnificent and just ripeningto harvest. From our roof on previous days we could see a great areaof them stretching to the edge of the forest. When the sun rose thatmorning this area had vanished, and the ground was covered with acarpet of green pulp. Also the forest itself appeared suddenly to haveexperienced the full effects of a northern winter. Not a leaf was leftupon the trees, which stood their pointing their naked boughs to heaven.
No one who had not seen it could imagine the devastating fury of thatstorm. For example, the head of the diviner who was buried in thecourt-yard awaiting resurrection through our magic was, it may berecalled, covered with a stout earthenware pot. Now that pot hadshattered into sherds and the head beneath was nothing but bits ofbroken bone which it would have been impossible for the very best magicto reconstruct to the likeness of a human being.
Calamity indeed stalked naked through the land.