In Desert and Wilderness/Part 2/Chapter 19
XIX
Four days later Stas stopped for a longer rest on a hill somewhat similar to Mount Linde, but smaller and narrower. That same night Saba after a hard battle killed a big male baboon, whom he attacked at a time when the baboon was playing with the remnants of a kite, the second in order of those which they had sent before starting for the ocean. Stas and Nell, taking advantage of the stay, determined to glue new ones continually, but to fly them only when the monsoon blew from the west to the east. Stas placed great reliance upon this, that even if but one of them should fall into European or Arabian hands it would undoubtedly attract extraordinary attention and would cause an expedition to be despatched expressly for their rescue. For greater certainty, besides English and French inscriptions he added Arabian, which was not difficult for him, as he knew the Arabian language perfectly.
Soon after starting from the resting-place, Kali announced that in the mountain chain, which he saw in the east, he recognized some of the peaks which surrounded Bassa-Narok; nevertheless, he was not always certain, as the mountains assumed different shapes, according to the place from which they were viewed. After crossing a small valley overgrown with cusso bushes and looking like a lake of roses, they chanced upon a hut of lone hunters. There were two negroes in it and one of them was sick, having been bitten by a thread-like worm.[1] But both were so savage and stupid and in addition so terrified by the arrival of the unexpected guests, so certain that they would be murdered, that at first it was impossible to ascertain anything from them. But a few slices of smoked meat unloosened the tongue of the one who was not only sick, but famished, as his companion doled out food to him very stingily. From him, therefore, they learned that about a day's journey away there lay straggling villages, governed by petty kings, who were independent of one another; and afterwards, beyond a steep mountain, the domain of Fumba began, extending on the west and south of the great water. When Stas heard this, a great load fell off his heart and new courage entered his soul. At any rate, they now were almost on the threshold of the land of the Wahimas.
It was difficult to foresee how their further journey would progress; nevertheless, the boy in any event could expect that it would not be harder or even longer than that terrible journey from the banks of the Nile which they had undergone, thanks to his exceptional resourcefulness, and during which he had saved Nell from destruction. He did not doubt that, thanks to Kali, the Wahimas would receive them with the greatest hospitality and would give every assistance to them. After all, he already well understood the negroes, knew how to act towards them, and was almost certain that, even without Kali, he would have been able somehow to take care of himself among them.
"Do you know," he said to Nell, "that we have passed more than one-half of the way from Fashoda, and that during the journey which is still before us we may meet very savage negroes, but now will not encounter any dervishes."
"I prefer negroes," the little maid replied.
"Yes, while you pass as a goddess. I was kidnapped from Fayûm with a little lady whose name was Nell, and now am conducting some kind of Mzimu. I shall tell my father and Mr. Rawlinson that they never should call you anything else."
Her eyes began to sparkle and smile:
"Perhaps we may see our papas in Mombasa."
"Perhaps. If it were not for that war on the shores of Bassa-Narok, we would be there sooner. Too bad that Fumba should be engaged in one at this time!"
Saying this, he nodded at Kali.
"Kali, did the sick negro hear of the war?"
"He heard. It is a big war, very big—Fumba with Samburus."
"Well, what will happen? How shall we get through the Samburu country?"
"The Samburus will run away before the great master, before the King and before Kali."
"And before you?"
"And before Kali, because Kali has a rifle which thunders and kills."
Stas began to meditate upon the part which would devolve upon him in the conflict between the Wahima and Samburu tribes and determined to conduct his affairs in such a manner as not to retard his journey. He understood that their arrival would be an entirely unexpected event which would at once assure Fumba of a superiority. Accordingly it was necessary only to make the most of a victory.
In the villages, of which the sick hunter spoke, they derived new information about the war. The reports were more and more accurate, but unfavorable for Fumba. The little travelers learned that he was conducting a defensive campaign, and that the Samburus under the command of their king, named Mamba, occupied a considerable expanse of the Wahima country and had captured a multitude of cows. The villagers said that the war was raging principally on the southern border of the great water where on a wide and high rock King Fumba's great "boma"[2] was situated.
This intelligence greatly grieved Kali, who begged Stas to cross the mountain separating them from the seat of the war as quickly as possible, assuring him, at the same time, that he would be able to find the road on which he could lead not only the horses but the King. He was already in a region which he knew well and now distinguished with great certainty peaks which were familiar to him from childhood.
Nevertheless, the passage was not easy, and if it were not for the aid of the inhabitants of the last village, won by gifts, it would have been necessary to seek another road for the King. These negroes knew better than Kali the passes leading from that side of the mountain, and after two days' arduous travel, during which great cold incommoded them during the nights, they successfully led the caravan to a depression in a crest of a mountain and from the mountain to a valley lying in the Wahima country.
Stas halted in the morning for a rest in this desolate valley, surrounded by underwood, while Kali, who begged to be allowed to scout on horseback in the direction of his father's "boma," which was about a day's distance, started that very night. Stas and Nell waited for him the whole day with the greatest uneasiness and feared that he had perished or fallen into the hands of the enemy, and when finally he appeared on a lean and panting horse, he himself was equally fatigued and so dejected that the sight of him excited pity.
He fell at once at Stas' feet and began to implore for help.
"Oh, great master," he said, "the Samburus have defeated Fumba's warriors; they killed a multitude of them and dispersed those they did not kill. They besiege Fumba in a boma on Boko Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat in the boma and will perish if the great master does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus with Mamba."
Begging thus, he embraced Stas' knees, while the latter knitted his brow and meditated deeply as to what was to be done, for in everything he was particularly concerned about Nell.
"Where," he finally asked, "are Fumba's warriors whom the Samburus dispersed?"
"Kali found them and they will be here at once."
"How many are there?"
The young negro moved the fingers of both hands and the toes of both his feet about a score of times, but it was evident that he could not indicate the exact number for the simple reason that he could not count above ten and every greater amount appeared to him as "wengi," that is, a multitude.
"Well, if they come here, place yourself at their head and go to your father's relief."
"They fear the Samburus and will not go with Kali, but with the great master they will go and kill 'wengi, wengi' of Samburu."
Stas pondered again.
"No," he finally said, "I can neither take the 'bibi' to a battle nor leave her alone, and I will not do it for anything in the world."
At this Kali rose and folding his hands began to repeat incessantly:
"Luela! Luela! Luela!"
"What is 'Luela'?" Stas asked.
"A great boma for Wahima and Samburu women," the young negro replied.
And he began to relate extraordinary things. Now Fumba and Mamba had been engaged in continual warfare with each other for a great many years. They laid waste to the plantations of each other and carried away cattle. But there was a locality on the southern shore of the lake, called Luela, at which even during the fiercest war the women of both nations assembled in the market-place with perfect safety. It was a sacred place. The war raged only between men; no defeats or victories affected the fate of the women, who in Luela, behind a clay enclosure surrounding a spacious market-place, found an absolutely safe asylum. Many of them sought shelter there during the time of hostilities, with their children and goods. Others came from even distant villages with smoked meat, beans, millet, manioc, and various other supplies. The warriors were not allowed to fight a battle within a distance of Luela which could be reached by the crowing of a rooster. They were likewise not permitted to cross the clay rampart with which the market-place was surrounded. They could only stand before the rampart and then the women would give them supplies of food attached to long bamboo poles. This was a very ancient custom and it never happened that either side violated it. The victors also were always concerned that the way of the defeated to Luela should be cut off and they did not permit them to approach the sacred place within a distance which could be reached by a rooster's crow.
"Oh, great master!" Kali begged, again embracing Stas' knees, "great master, lead 'the bibi' to Luela, and you yourself take the King, take Kali, take the rifle, take fiery snakes and rout the wicked Samburus."
Stas believed the young negro's narrative, for he had heard that in many localities in Africa war does not include women. He remembered how at one time in Port Said a certain young German missionary related that in the vicinity of the gigantic mountain, Kilima-Njaro, the immensely warlike Massai tribe sacredly observed this custom, by virtue of which the women of the contending parties walked with perfect freedom in certain market-places and were never subject to attack. The existence of this custom on the shores of Bassa-Narok greatly delighted Stas, for he could be certain that no danger threatened Nell on account of the war. He determined also to start with the little maid without delay for Luela, all the more because before the termination of the war they could not think of a further journey for which not only the aid of the Wahimas but that of the Samburus was necessary.
Accustomed to quick decisions, he already knew how he should act. To free Fumba, to rout the Samburus but not to permit a too bloody revenge, and afterwards to command peace and reconcile the belligerents, appeared to him an imperative matter not only for himself but also most beneficial for the negroes. "Thus it should be and thus it shall be!" he said to himself in his soul, and in the meantime, desiring to comfort the young negro for whom he felt sorry, he announced that he did not refuse aid.
"How far is Luela from here?" he asked.
"A half day's journey."
"Listen, then! we will convey the 'bibi' there at once, after which I shall ride on the King and drive away the Samburus from your father's boma. You shall ride with me and shall fight with them."
"Kali will kill them with the rifle!"
And passing at once from despair to joy, he began to leap, laugh, and thank Stas with as much ardor as though the victory was already achieved. But further outbursts of gratitude and mirth were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors, whom he had gathered together during his scouting expedition and whom he commanded to appear before the white master. They numbered about three hundred; they were armed with shields of hippopotamus leather, with javelins and knives. Their heads were dressed with feathers, baboon manes, and ferns. At the sight of an elephant in the service of a man, at the sight of the white faces, Saba, and the horses, they were seized by the same fear and the same amazement which had possessed the negroes in those villages through which the children previously passed. But Kali warned them in advance that they would behold the "Good Mzimu" and the mighty master "who kills lions, who killed a wobo, whom the elephant fears, who crushes rocks, lets loose fiery snakes," etc. So, instead of running away, they stood in a long row in silence, full of admiration, with the whites of their eyes glistening, uncertain whether they should kneel or fall on their faces. But at the same time they were full of faith that if these extraordinary beings would help them then the victories of the Samburus would soon end. Stas rode along the file on the elephant, just like a commander who is reviewing his army, after which he ordered Kali to repeat his promise that he would liberate Fumba, and issued an order that they should start for Luela.
Kali rode with a few warriors in advance to announce to the women of both tribes that they would have the inexpressible and unheard-of pleasure of seeing the "Good Mzimu," who would arrive on an elephant. The matter was so extraordinary that even those women who, being members of the Wahima tribe, recognized Kali as the lost heir to the throne, thought that he was jesting with them and were surprised that he wanted to jest at a time that was so heavy for the whole tribe and Fumba. When, however, after the lapse of a few hours they saw a gigantic elephant approaching the ramparts and on it a white palanquin, they fell into a frenzy of joy and received the "Good Mzimu," with such shouts and such yells that Stas at first mistook their voices for an outburst of hatred, and the more so as the unheard-of ugliness of the negresses made them look like witches.
But these were manifestations of extraordinary honor. When Nell's tent was set in a corner of the market-place under the shade of two thick trees, the Wahima and Samburu women decorated it with garlands and wreaths of flowers, after which they brought supplies of food that would have sufficed a month, not only for the divinity herself but for her retinue. The enraptured women even prostrated themselves before Mea, who, attired in rosy percale and a few strings of blue beads, as a humble servant of the Mzimu, appeared to them as a being far superior to the common negresses.
Nasibu, out of regard for his childish age, was admitted behind the rampart and at once took advantage of the gifts brought for Nell so conscientiously that after an hour his little abdomen resembled an African war drum.