Witch-Doctors Part 16

The mind of Bak.u.ma was occupied by percepts of the charms of Zalu Zako; particularly as memorised on that afternoon by the river when the effect of the love charm had begun to work. These memories, as sweet as they would have been to any maid, were shot with gay colours by the words of the wizard; for he had a.s.sured her that with the toe-nail and hair to work magic upon, Zalu Zako would be bewitched by her charms for all time. And she had obtained them! She could have gotten the goat, not a skinny goat as described under the inhibiting influence of a wild hope that the wizard would relent. Her cousin, smarting under the reproaches of her husband, had such a goat, fat as goats in Wongolo go, and she was eager to exchange it or anything for an infallible charm against sterility. Bak.u.ma feared to part with the charm, yet the matter was pressing; immediately she was the wife of Zalu Zako she would be in a position to purchase all the charms in the village.

But difficult to obtain as they were, for as everybody knows no man leaves portions of himself around that may fall into the hands of an enemy to work magic upon, least of all a rich man, "half divine," she had obtained some nail parings and one hair. With that charm against sterility, the only thing of value Bak.u.ma possessed, had she bribed a concubine of Zalu Zako's household to steal the ingredients required from the hut thatch where they had been hidden after the official shaving and paring following the ceremony of his father, pending their removal to the sacred precincts of the temple.

Above her pa.s.sion for Zalu Zako was her natural feminine appreciation of a good match. The Son of the Snake was far better from a woman's point of view than union with a successful wizard. In the event of the death of the King-G.o.d, Kawa Kendi, the wives of his son and successor, although denied to him, were accorded special privileges; and upon his demise these royal wives retained their home upon the hill which had become his tomb.

Moreover, as Bak.u.ma knew well, now that Zalu Zako was heir-apparent, he must choose the princ.i.p.al wife who would for her life remain paramount in the household, avoiding the dread of every ageing woman that her husband would take unto him another wife younger and more supple.

The one mosquito in paradise was the fear that as soon as her uncle, her father's brother to whom she belonged by inheritance, learned the august personage who desired her, he would raise the price to a prohibitive figure; for he was mean as well as stupid and lazy, wherefore he had few goods, and although Zalu Zako was a rich man she knew that any man save a fool loves to drive a good bargain if only to prove his astuteness.

Therefore was another imperative necessity to procure every means of magic and charm to fan the flame of her lover's desires.

Yet always flashed a bright-hued lizard in the sun of her joy when she imagined herself installed as the chief wife in the household of Zalu Zako, an una.s.sailable position as long as she had one male child; the practical mistress of his first two wives as well as the retinue of slaves.

Bazila, the younger wife, Bak.u.ma knew well; the favourite and haughty, covered with the most expensive amulets against every ill and black magic, she was overfond of sneering at young girls of the hut thatch whose charms had not yet netted a victim.

"Ehh!" gasped Bak.u.ma and flashed her teeth as she rolled the warm leaves around the sticky mess, "then will the scent of my body be more bitter than the flower of the fish-faced cactus!"

And so through the night did Bak.u.ma nibble at antic.i.p.atory joys as she lay upon her reed mat on the slightly raised dais of the floor which was her bed, watching the smoke of the fire in the middle of the hut lose itself in the shadows of the roof, and listening in the hope of hearing some voice of the spirits whom Marufa was to invoke on her behalf. Save for the occasional bleating of a goat and once the harsh scream of the Baroto bird, which made her heart contract, for it is a bad omen, the night was still. However, at the hour of the monkey Bak.u.ma arose to replenish the fire. As the western star was melting in the warm green she left the compound. On the outskirts of the village the tall figure of MYalu appeared from the shadows of the plantation.

"Greeting, daughter of Bakala," said he, his eyes greedily devouring her.

"Greeting, O Chief!" returned Bak.u.ma, as she politely stepped to one side to avoid standing on the vague shadow of the chief.

"The fawn seeks the pastures early," remarked MYalu.

"Before the breath of the sun the gra.s.s is sweeter," retorted Bak.u.ma, edging away.

"Aye," remarked MYalu, with a hungry glint in his eyes, "thou art eager to slake thy thirst? But in the valley will no buck walk this day!"

"Ehh!" gasped Bak.u.ma, recollecting instantly the omen of the Baroto bird heard that night. "What meanest thou?"

"Maybe the soul of him hath wandered and been caught in a trap or maybe--"

He paused to watch her closely-"maybe an enemy hath made magic upon the parts of him."

"Ehh!" Bak.u.ma started nervously.

MYalu smiled and touched her upon the shoulder.

"Thy flesh is cooler than the dew."

"Nay, nay, O Chief, thou hast not tied my girdle," she protested, as she backed away from him, her eyes wide like a terrified deer's.

"Nay, but will I untie it soon," he retorted.

But as he stepped towards her she turned and fled. As MYalu watched her running as swiftly as a pookoo into the plantation he grinned and called out: "Even now is the cooling draught steaming in the breath of the Unmentionable One! But the goblet shall hold a sweeter draught for me!"

"Aie! Aie-e!" wailed Bak.u.ma, her heart beating furiously, "what devil hath bewitched me! O, that father of many goats hath betrayed me! Aie! Aie-e!

O, the cry of the Baroto bird! Aie! Aie-e!"

And when Bak.u.ma, distraught with terror by the menace that she had only procured the nail paring and hair to give her lover into the hands of the false magician who, of course, had been bought by MYalu, arrived at the "pastures" by the river, as MYalu had foretold, no buck walked there.

The sun spilled blue shadows on the village from the sacred hill where another scene was being enacted, and it was not as imagined by the amorous MYalu.

In the council house, which was within the outer fence and before the sacred enclosure, was in progress a meeting of the doctors. In the door of the enclosure squatted Kawa Kendi, with Kingata Mata in attendance tending the royal fires. Before him, in front of their fellows, were seated Bakahenzie and Marufa in full dress of green feathers and the scarlet plume. The left side of the idol, which was so set that the shadow never fell upon the entrance to the compound, was gilded by the sun; the mouth grinned in one corner, one eye was closed in shadow, seemingly like a prodigious wink.

To the thrumming of the sacred band Bakahenzie was rocking himself to and fro mumbling incantations. Kawa Kendi squatted immobile, but the others swayed and grunted softly in rhythm. Then on a sudden did Bakahenzie lift up his head and cry in a great voice. The drums ceased and the body of witch-doctors remained motionless, expectant. Bakahenzie dropped his head and began to chant:

"Behold! I have heard the voice of the trees Crying softly by night!

Lo! the soul of the plant is in labour!

As a woman with child!

Behold! is she not to break forth?

For she crieth for aid.

Unless she be heard the infant will slip!

The fruit will not be!

The plants will not break!

The milk will be sour!

The beer will be green!

Women will not bear!

Our spears will be blunt!

Our magic will wane!

And He will be wroth!"

"Eh! Ah! ... Eh! Ah! ... Eh! Ah! ... Eh! Ah! ... Eh! Ah! ..."

grunted the chorus of the doctors. Then chanted Marufa:

"Lo! I have slept and been that which I must!

Preying swiftly by night!

Behold! I have bloodied my fangs in the throat Of a mighty bull eland!

Blood succoured the earth and upsprang a plant!

Which panted for blood!

The sap of the plant is the soul of the tree!

Take heed to the thirst Of Him who first was!

Who l.u.s.ts for a maid!

Full breasted, soft thighed!

Supple, bow arched!

Clean blooded and strong!

Whose name is forbid!

Whose name is a sin!"

"Who hath stolen the name?" screamed Bakahenzie, leaping to his feet. "Who is she that hath stolen the name?"

"Eh! Ahh! ... Eh! Ahh! ... Eh! Ahh! ... Eh! Ahh! ... Eh! Ahh! ..."

As the drums throbbed swifter Bakahenzie began to shuffle in a stooping posture as if he were snuffing a trail. To the continuous grunting he continued this dance for fully a quarter of an hour. Then stopping abruptly in front of the king he screamed:

"Let her be bidden To come to the feast!

Let her be oiled!

Let her be shaved!

Let her come dancing!

Let her be joyful!

Let her be decked!