In Desert and Wilderness/Part 2/Chapter 17

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In Desert and Wilderness (1917)
by Henryk Sienkiewicz, translated by Max Drezmal
Chapter 17
Henryk Sienkiewicz4196002In Desert and Wilderness — Chapter 171917Max Drezmal


XVII

On the fifth day Stas rode with Nell on the King, for they had chanced upon a wide belt of acacias, growing so densely that the horses could move only on a path beaten down by the elephant. The hour was early, the morning radiant and dewy. The children conversed about the journey and the fact that each day brought them nearer to the ocean and to their fathers, for whom both continually longed. This, from the moment of their abduction from Fayûm, was the inexhaustible subject of all their conversations, which always moved them to tears. And they incessantly repeated in a circle that their papas thought that they already were dead and both were grieving and in spite of hope were despatching Arabs to Khartûm for news while they were now far away, not only from Khartûm but from Fashoda, and after five days would be still farther until finally they would reach the ocean, or perhaps before that time, some kind of place from which they could send despatches. The only person in the whole caravan who knew what still awaited them was Stas;—Nell, on the other hand, was most profoundly convinced that there was nothing in the world which "Stes" could not accomplish and she was quite certain that he would conduct her to the coast. So many times, anticipating events, she pictured to herself in her little head what would happen when the first news of them arrived and, chirping like a little bird, related it to Stas. "Our papas are sitting," she said, "in Port Said and weeping, when in comes a boy with a despatch. What is it? My papa or your papa opens it and looks at the signatures and reads 'Stas and Nell.' Then they will rejoice! Then they will start up to prepare to meet us! Then there will be joy in the whole house and our papas will rejoice and everybody will rejoice and they will praise you and they will come and I shall hug tightly papa's neck, and after that we shall always be together—and—"

And it ended in this: that her chin commenced to quiver, the beautiful eyes changed into two fountains, and in the end she leaned her head on Stas' arm and wept from sorrow, longing, and joy at the thought of the future meeting. And Stas, allowing his imagination to roam into the future, divined that his father would be proud of him; that he would say to him: "You behaved as became a Pole;" and intense emotion possessed him and in his heart was bred a longing, ardor, and courage as inflexible as steel. "I must," he said to himself, "rescue Nell. I must live to see that moment." And at such moments it seemed to him that there were no dangers which he was not able to overcome nor obstacles which he could not surmount.

But it was yet far to the final victory. In the meantime they were making their way through the acacia grove. The long thorns of these trees even made white marks upon the King's hide. Finally the grove became thinner and across the branches of the scattered trees could be seen in the distance a green jungle. Stas, notwithstanding that the heat was very oppressive, slipped out of the palanquin and sat on the elephant's neck to see whether there were any herds of antelopes or zebras within view, for he wished to replenish his supply of meat.

In fact, on the right side he espied a herd of ariels, composed of a few head, and among them two ostriches, but when they passed the last clump of trees and the elephant turned to the left, a different sight struck the eyes of the boy. At the distance of about a third of a mile he observed a large manioc field and at the border of the field between ten and twenty black forms apparently engaged at work in the field.

"Negroes!" he exclaimed, turning to Nell.

And his heart began to beat violently. For a while, he hesitated as to whether he should turn back and hide again in the acacias, but it occurred to him that, sooner or later, he would have to meet the natives in populated districts and enter into relations with them, and that the fate of the whole traveling party might depend upon how those relations were formed; so, after brief reflection, he guided the elephant towards the field.

At the same moment Kali approached and, pointing his hand at a clump of trees, said:

"Great master! That is a negro village and there are women working at the manioc. Shall I ride to them?"

"We will ride together," Stas answered, "and then you shall tell them that we come as friends."

"I know what to tell them, master," exclaimed the young negro with great self-assurance.

And turning the horses towards the workers, he placed the palms of his hands around his lips and began to shout:

"Yambo, he yambo sana!"

At this sound, the women engaged in hoeing the manioc field started up suddenly and stood as if thunderstruck, but this lasted only the twinkling of an eye, for afterwards, flinging away in alarm the hoes and baskets, they began to run away, screaming, to the trees amidst which the village was concealed.

The little travelers approached slowly and calmly. In the thicket resounded the yelling of some hundred voices, after which silence fell. It was interrupted finally by the hollow but loud rumble of a drum, which did not cease even for a moment.

It was evidently a signal of the warriors for battle, for three hundred of them suddenly emerged from the thicket. All stood in a long row before the village. Stas stopped the King at the distance of one hundred paces and began to gaze at them. The sun illuminated their well-shaped forms, wide breasts, and powerful arms. They were armed with bows and spears. Around their thighs some had short skirts of heath, and some of monkey skin. Their heads were adorned with ostrich and parrot feathers, or great scalps torn off baboons' skulls. They appeared warlike and threatening, but they stood motionless and in silence, for their amazement was simply unbounded and subdued the desire for fighting. All eyes were fastened upon the King, on the white palanquin, and the white man sitting on his neck.

Nevertheless, an elephant was not an unknown animal to them. On the contrary, they continually live in dread of elephants, whole herds of which destroy at night their manioc fields as well as banana and doom-palm plantations. As the spears and arrows do not pierce the elephant's hide, the poor negroes fight the depredators with the help of fire, with the aid of cries imitating a cockerel's crow, by digging pits, and constructing traps made of the trunks of trees. But that an elephant should become slave of man and permit one to sit on his neck was something which none of them ever saw before, and it never entered into the mind of any of them that anything like that was possible. So the spectacle which was presented to them passed so far beyond their understanding and imagination that they did not know what to do: whether to fight or to run where their eyes should lead them, though it would result in leaving them to the caprice of fate.

So in uncertainty, alarm, and amazement they only whispered to each other:

"Oh, mother! What creatures are these which have come to us, and what awaits us at their hands?"

But at this Kali, having ridden within a spear's throw of them, stood up in the stirrups and began to shout:

"People! people! Listen to the voice of Kali, the son of Fumba, the mighty king of the Wahimas on the shores of Bassa-Narok. Oh listen, listen, and if you understand his speech, pay heed to each word that he utters."

"We understand," rang the answer of three hundred mouths.

"Let your king stand forth; let him tell his name and let him open his ears and lips that he may hear better."

"M'Rua! M'Rua!" numerous voices began to cry.

M'Rua stepped in front of the ranks, but not more than three paces. He was a negro, already old, tall and powerfully built, but evidently did not suffer from too much courage, as the calves of his legs quivered so that he had to implant the edge of a spear in the ground and support himself on the shaft in order to stand on his legs.

After his example, the other warriors also drove the spears into the ground in sign that they wanted to hear peaceably the words of the arrival.

And Kali again raised his voice.

"M'Rua, and you, M'Rua's men, you heard that to you speaks the son of the king of the Wahimas, whose cows cover as thickly the mountains around the Bassa-Narok as the ants cover the body of a slain giraffe. And what says Kali, the son of the king of Wahima? Lo, he announces to you the great and happy tidings that there comes to your village the 'Good Mzimu.'"

After which he yelled still louder:

"That is so! The Good Mzimu! Ooo!"

In the stillness which ensued could be perceived the great sensation which Kali's words created. The wave of warriors surged back and forth, for some, impelled by curiosity, advanced a few paces, while others retreated in fear. M'Rua supported himself with both hands on the spear—and for some time the hollow silence continued. Only after a while a murmur passed through the ranks and individual voices began to repeat "Mzimu! Mzimu!" and here and there resounded shouts of "Yancig! Yancig!" expressive at the same time of homage and welcome.

But Kali's voice again predominated over the murmurs and shouts:

"Look and rejoice! Lo, the 'Good Mzimu' sits there in that white hut on the back of the great elephant and the great elephant obeys her as a slave obeys a master and like a child its mother! Oh, neither your fathers nor you have seen anything like that."

"We have not seen! Yancig! Yancig!"

And the eyes of all warriors were directed at the "hut," or rather at the palanquin.

And Kali, who during the religious instructions on Mount Linde had learned that faith moves mountains, was deeply convinced that the prayer of the little white "bibi" could procure everything from God; so he spoke thus further and in perfect sincerity:

"Listen! Listen! The 'Good Mzimu' is riding on an elephant in the direction in which the sun rises, beyond the mountains out of the waters; there the 'Good Mzimu' will tell the Great Spirit to send you clouds, and those clouds during a drought will water with rain your millet, your manioc, your bananas, and the grass in the jungle, in order that you may have plenty to eat and that your cows shall have good fodder and shall give thick and fat milk. Do you want to have plenty of food and milk—oh, men?"

"He! We do, we do!"

"And the 'Good Mzimu' will tell the Great Spirit to send to you the wind, which will blow away from your village that sickness which changes the body into a honey-comb. Do you want him to blow it away—oh, men?"

"He! Let him blow it away!"

"And the Great Spirit at the prayer of the 'Good Mzimu' will protect you from attacks and slavery and from depredations in your fields and from the lion and from the panther and from the snake and from the locust—"

"Let her do that."

"So, listen yet and look who sits before the hut between the ears of the terrible elephant. Lo, there sits bwana kubwa, the great and mighty white master, whom the elephant fears!"

"He!"

"Who has thunder-bolts in his hand and kills with it bad men—"

"He!"

"Who kills lions—"

"He!"

"Who lets loose fiery snakes—"

"He!"

"Who crushes rocks—"

"He!"

"Who, however, will do you no harm, if you will honor the 'Good Mzimu.'"

"Yancig! Yancig!"

"And if you will bring to him an abundance of dry flour from bananas, eggs of chickens, fresh milk, and honey."

"Yancig! Yancig!"

"So approach and fall on your faces before the 'Good Mzimu!'"

M'Rua and his warriors started and, not ceasing to "yancig" for a moment, advanced between ten and twenty paces, but they approached cautiously, for a superstitious fear of the "Mzimu" and downright terror before the elephant impeded their steps. The sight of Saba startled them anew as they mistook him for a "wobo," that is, a big, yellowish-brown leopard, which lives in that region as well as in Southern Abyssinia, and whom the natives fear more than a lion, for it prefers human flesh above all other, and with unheard-of daring attacks even armed men. They quieted, however, seeing that the little obese negro held the terrible "wobo" on a rope. But they were acquiring a still greater idea of the power of the "Good Mzimu," as well as of the white master, and, staring now at the elephant then at Saba, they whispered to each other: "If they bewitched even the 'wobo' who in the world can oppose them?" But the most solemn moment did not come until Stas, turning to Nell, first bowed profoundly and afterwards drew aside the curtain-like walls of the palanquin and exhibited to the eyes of the crowd the "Good Mzimu." M'Rua and all the warriors fell on their faces so that their bodies formed a long, living deck. Not one of them dared to move, and fear prevailed in all hearts all the more when the King, either at Stas' order or of his own volition, raised his trunk and began to trumpet strongly; and after his example Saba emitted the deepest bass of which he was capable. Then from all breasts issued, resembling entreating groans, "Aka! Aka! Aka!" and this continued until Kali again addressed them.

"Oh, M'Rua, and you, children of M'Rua! You have paid homage to the 'Good Mzimu'; therefore rise, gaze, and fill your eyes, for whoever does that gains the blessing of the Great Spirit. Drive away, also, fear from your breasts and bellies and know that wherever the 'Good Mzimu' sojourns, human blood cannot be shed."

At these words, and particularly as a result of the announcement that in the presence of the "Good Mzimu" no one can meet death, M'Rua rose, and after him the other warriors, and began to gaze, bashfully but eagerly at the kind divinity. Indeed, they would have to acknowledge, if Kali again should ask them about it, that neither their fathers nor they ever had beheld anything like it. For their eyes were accustomed to monstrous figures of idols, made of wood and shaggy cocoanuts, and now there appeared before them on an elephant's back a bright divinity, gentle, sweet, and smiling, resembling a white bird, and at the same time a white flower. So, too, their fears passed away, their breasts breathed freely; their thick lips began to grin and their hands were involuntarily stretched out towards the charming phenomenon.

"Oh! Yancig! Yancig! Yancig!"

Nevertheless, Stas, who was watching everything with the closest possible attention, observed that one of the negroes, wearing a pointed cap of rats' skin, slunk away from the ranks immediately after Kali's last words and, crawling like a snake in the grass, turned to an isolated hut standing apart, beyond the enclosure, but surrounded likewise by a high stockade bound by climbing plants.

In the meantime the "Good Mzimu," though greatly embarrassed by the role of a divinity, at Stas' request stretched out her little hand and began to greet the negroes. The black warriors watched with joy in their eyes each movement of that little hand, firmly believing it possessed powerful "charms," which would protect them and secure them against a multitude of disasters. Some, striking their breasts and hips, said: "Oh, mother, now it will be well—for us and our cows." M'Rua, now entirely emboldened, drew near the elephant and prostrated himself once more before the "Good Mzimu" and after that, bowing to Stas, spoke in the following manner:

"Would the great master, who leads the white divinity on the elephant, be pleased to eat a small piece of M'Rua, and would he consent that M'Rua should eat a small piece of him, in order that they should become brothers, among whom there is no falsehood and treachery?"

Kali at once translated these words, but perceiving from Stas' countenance that he did not have the slightest desire to eat a small piece of M'Rua, turned to the old negro and said:

"Oh, M'Rua! Do you really think that the white master, whom the elephant fears, who holds thunderbolts in his hands, who kills lions, to whom the 'wobo' wags its tail, who lets loose fiery snakes and crushes rocks, could form a blood brotherhood with a mere king? Reflect, oh, M'Rua, whether the Great Spirit would not punish you for your audacity, and whether it is not enough of glory for you if you eat a small piece of Kali, the son of Fumba, the ruler of the Wahimas, and if Kali, the son of Fumba, eats a small piece of you?"

"Are you not a slave?" M'Rua asked.

"The great master did not seize Kali, neither did he buy him; he only saved his life; therefore Kali is conducting the 'Good Mzimu' and the master to the country of the Wahimas in order that the Wahimas and Fumba should pay honors to them and give them great gifts."

"Let it be as you say and let M'Rua eat a small piece of Kali and Kali a small piece of M'Rua."

"Let it be so," repeated the warriors.

"Where is the fetish-man?" the king asked.

"Where is the fetish-man? Where is the fetish-man? Where is Kamba?" numerous voices began to call.

Then something occurred which might change entirely the state of affairs, embroil the friendly relations, and make the negroes enemies of the newly arrived guests. From the hut standing apart and surrounded by a separate stockade, there suddenly resounded an infernal din. It was like the roar of a lion, like thunder, like the rumbling of a drum, like the laughter of a hyena, the howling of a wolf, and like the shrill creaking of rusty iron hinges. The King hearing these dreadful sounds, began to trumpet, Saba barked, the donkey, on which Nasibu sat, brayed. The warriors leaped as if scalded, and pulled the spears out of the ground. Confusion ensued. Stas' ears were assailed by the uneasy shouts of: "Our Mzimu! Our Mzimu!" The esteem and favor, with which they looked at the arrivals, vanished in one moment. The eyes of the savages began to cast suspicious and hostile glances. Threatening murmurs began to rise among the crowd and the horrible noise in the isolated hut increased more and more.

Kali was terrified and, approaching Stas quickly, said in a voice broken with emotion:

"Master! the fetish-man has awakened the wicked Mzimu, who fears that he will lose gifts and is roaring in a rage. Master, quiet the fetish-man and the wicked Mzimu with great gifts, for otherwise these men will turn against us."

"Quiet them?" Stas asked.

And suddenly he was possessed by anger at the perversity and greed of the fetish-man; and the unexpected danger roused him to the bottom of his soul. His swarthy face assumed the same expression which it had when he shot Gebhr, Chamis, and the Bedouins. His eyes glittered ominously; his lips were compressed and his cheeks paled.

"Ah! I'll quiet them!" he said.

And without any reflection he drove the elephant towards the hut.

Kali, not desiring to remain alone among the negroes, ran after him. From the breasts of the savage warriors there came a shout—it was not known whether of alarm or of rage, but, before they recovered their wits, the stockade under the pressure of the elephant's head crashed and tumbled; after that the clay walls of the hut crumbled and amid dust the roof flew up in the air; and after a while M'Rua and his men saw the black trunk raised high and at the end of the trunk the fetish-man, Kamba.

And Stas, observing on the floor a big drum made of the hollowed trunk of a tree with monkey skin stretched over it, ordered Kali to hand it to him and, returning, stopped directly among the amazed warriors.

"Men!" he said in a loud voice, "it is not your Mzimu who roars; it is this rogue who makes the noise on the drum to wheedle gifts out of you, and whom you fear like children!"

Saying this, he seized the rope drawn through the dried-up skin of the drum and began to twirl it around with all his strength. The same sounds which had previously so startled the negroes resounded now, and even more shrilly, as they were not muffled by the walls of the hut.

"Oh, how stupid are M'Rua and his children!" shouted Kali.

Stas gave the drum back to Kali while the latter began to make a noise with it with such zeal that for a while a word could not be heard. When finally he had enough, he flung the drum at M'Rua's feet.

"This is your Mzimu," he exclaimed, with great laughter.

After which he began with the usual negro exuberance of words to address the warriors; at which he was not at all sparing of jeers at them and at M'Rua. He declared to them, pointing at Kamba, that "that thief in the cap made of rat's skin" cheated them through many rainy and dry seasons and they fed him on beans, flesh of kids, and honey. Is there another king and nation as stupid in the world? They believed in the power of the old deceiver and in his charms, and look now, how that great fetish-man hangs from the elephant's trunk and is crying "Aka!" to arouse the pity of the white master. Where is his power? Where are his charms? Why does not any wicked Mzimu roar in his defense? Ah! What is this, their Mzimu? A clout of monkey skin and piece of wood hollowed through decay which the elephant will tread to pieces. Among the Wahimas, neither the women nor the children would be afraid of such a Mzimu, and M'Rua and his men fear him. There is only one genuine Mzimu and one really great and powerful master. Let them pay honors to them; let them bring as many gifts as they possibly can, as otherwise calamities, of which they hitherto have not heard, will befall them.

For the negroes even these words were unnecessary as the fetish-man, together with his wicked Mzimu, appeared so vastly weaker than the new divinity and the white master, that it sufficed most fully to make them desert him and load him with contempt. So they commenced anew to "yancig" with even greater humility and haste. But as they were angry at themselves because they had allowed Kamba to cheat them for so many years, they wanted, by all means, to kill him. M'Rua himself begged Stas to allow him to bind and keep him until he could devise a sufficiently cruel death. Nell, however, was determined to spare his life, and as Kali had announced that wherever the "Good Mzimu" sojourns human blood cannot be shed, Stas consented only to the expulsion of the hapless fetish-man from the village.

Kamba, who expected that he would die in the most ingeniously devised tortures, fell on his face before the "Good Mzimu" and, blubbering, thanked her for saving his life. From beyond the stockade women and children poured, for the news of the arrival of the extraordinary guests had already spread over the whole village, and the desire to see the white Mzimu overcame their terror. Stas and Nell for the first time saw a settlement of real savages, which even the Arabs had not succeeded in reaching. The dress of these negroes consisted only of heath or skins tied around their hips; all were tattooed. Men as well as women had perforated ears, and in the opening, chunks of wood or bone so big that the expanded lobes reached the shoulders. In the lower lips they carried "peleles," that is, wooden or bony rings as large as saucers. The more distinguished warriors and their wives had around their throats collars of iron or brass wire so high and stiff that they could barely move their heads.

They apparently belonged to the Shilluk tribe, which extends far into the east, for Kali and Mea understood their speech excellently and Stas partly. They did not have, however, limbs as long as their kindred living on the overflowing banks of the Nile; they were broader in the shoulders, not so tall, and generally less like wading birds. The children looked like fleas and, not being yet disfigured by "peleles," were, without comparison, better looking than the older people.

The women, having first from a distance sated their eyes with looking at the "Good Mzimu," began to vie with the warriors in bringing gifts to her, consisting of kids, chickens, eggs, black beans, and beer brewed of millet. This continued until Stas stopped the afflux of supplies; as he paid for them liberally with beads and colored percale, and Nell distributed between ten and twenty looking-glasses inherited from Linde, immense joy reigned in the whole village; and around the tent, in which the little travelers sought shelter, shouts, happy and full of enthusiasm, continually resounded. After that, the warriors performed a war-dance in honor of the guests and fought a sham battle, and finally they proceeded to form a blood brotherhood between Kali and M'Rua.

Owing to the absence of Kamba, who for this ceremony was usually indispensable, his place was taken by an old negro sufficiently conversant with the adjuration. The latter, having killed a kid and extracted its liver, divided it into fair-sized morsels; after which he began to turn a kind of spinning-wheel with his hand and foot and, gazing now at Kali and then at M'Rua, addressed them in a solemn voice:

"Kali, son of Fumba, do you desire to eat a piece of M'Rua, the son of M'Kuli, and you, M'Rua, son of M'Kuli, do you desire to eat a piece of Kali, the son of Fumba?"

"We do," announced the future brethren.

"Do you desire that the heart of Kali should be the heart of M'Rua and the heart of M'Rua the heart of Kali?"

"We do."

"And the hands and the spears and the cows?"

"And the cows!"

"And everything which each one possesses and will possess?"

"And what he possesses and will possess."

"And that there should not be between you falsehood, nor treachery, nor hatred?"

"Nor hatred!"

"And that one shall not pilfer from the other?"

"Never!"

"And that you shall be brethren?"

"Yes!"

The wheel turned more and more rapidly. The warriors, gathered around, watched its revolutions with ever-increasing interest.

"Ao!" exclaimed the aged negro, "if one of you deceives the other by lies, if he betrays him, if he steals from him, if he poisons him, may he be accursed!"

"May he be accursed!" repeated all the warriors.

"And if he is a liar and is plotting treason, let him not swallow the blood of his brother, and let him spit it out before our eyes."

"Oh, before our eyes!"

"And let him die!"

"Let him die!"

"Let him be torn to pieces by a wobo!"

"Wobo!"

"Or a lion!"

"Or a lion!"

"May he be trampled upon by an elephant and a rhinoceros and a buffalo!"

"Oh—and a buffalo!" repeated the chorus.

"May he be bit by a snake!"

"Snake!"

"And may his tongue become black!"

"Black!"

"And his eyes sink to the back of his head!"

"To the back of his head!"

"And may he walk on his heels upward!"

"Ha! on his heels upward!"

Not only Stas but Kali bit his lips in order not to burst out laughing. In the meantime adjurations were repeated, more and more horrible, and the wheel kept spinning so quickly that the eyes could not keep pace with its whirl. This continued until the old negro entirely lost his strength and breath.

Then he squatted on the ground, and for some time nodded his head in both directions in silence. After a while, however, he rose and taking a knife, cut with it the skin at Kali's shoulder and smearing a piece of kid's liver with his blood, shoved it into M'Rua's mouth; the other piece smeared in the king's blood he shoved into Kali's mouth. Both swallowed so quickly that their wind-pipes began to play, and their eyes bulged out; after which they grabbed hold of hands in sign of loyal and everlasting friendship.

The warriors on the other hand began to shout with glee:

"Both swallowed; neither spat it out; therefore they are sincere and there is no treachery between them."

And Stas in his soul thanked Kali that he had acted as his proxy at this ceremony, for he felt that at the swallowing of "a piece" of M'Rua he undoubtedly would have given proof of insincerity and treachery.

From that moment, however, the little travelers were not threatened on the part of the savages with deceit or any unexpected attacks; on the contrary they were treated with a hospitality and an esteem almost god-like. This esteem increased when Stas, after making an observation on a barometer, a great heritage from Linde, predicted rain, and when rain fell that very same day quite copiously, as though the massica[1] desired to shake off the rest of its supplies upon the earth, the negroes were convinced that this downpour was the gift of the "Good Mzimu" and their gratitude to Nell was unbounded. Stas joked with her about this, saying that since she had become a negro divinity he would proceed alone on his further journey and leave her in M'Rua's village, where the negroes would erect for her a chapel of ivory, and would bring beans and bananas to her.

But Nell had no uncertainty, and, standing on her little toes, whispered in his ear, according to her custom, only four words: "You won't leave me!" After which she began to leap from joy, saying that since the negroes were so kind, the whole journey to the ocean would be easy and quick. This happened in front of the tent and in the presence of the crowd, so old M'Rua, seeing a jumping Mzimu, began at once to leap as high as he could with his crooked shanks in the conviction that through that act he gave proof of his piety. In emulation of their superior "the ministers" started to leap, and after them the warriors, and later the women and children; in a word, the whole village for some time was jumping as if all had lost their wits.

This example given by the divinity amused Stas so much that he lay down and roared with laughter. Nevertheless, during the night-time he rendered to the pious king and his subjects a real and enduring service, for when the elephants made depredations upon their banana field he drove towards them on the King and shot a few rockets among the herd. The panic caused by the "fiery snakes" surpassed even his expectation. The huge beasts, seized by a frenzy of terror, filled the jungle with a roar and the noise of hoofs, and, escaping blindly, tumbled down and trampled upon one another. The mighty King chased after his flying companions with extraordinary alacrity, not sparing blows of his trunk and tusks. After such a night one could be certain that not an elephant would appear in the banana and doom-palm plantations belonging to the village of old M'Rua.

In the village great joy also reigned, and the negroes passed the whole night in dancing and drinking beer of millet and palm wine. Kali learned from them, however, many important things; it appeared that some of them had heard of some great water lying east and surrounded by mountains. For Stas this was proof that the lake, of which no mention was made in the geography which he had studied, actually existed; also, that going in the direction which they had selected, they would finally encounter the Wahima people. Inferring from the fact that Mea's and Kali's speech differed very little from M'Rua's speech, he came to the conclusion that the name of "Wahima" was in all probability the designation of a locality, and that the peoples living on the shores of "Bassa-Narok" belonged to the great Shilluk tribe, which begins on the Nile and extends, it is not known how far, to the east.


  1. The spring rainy season, which had just passed.