“We see the sinking moon,” answered the spokesman of the party.
“It is so. Now tell me, can any mortal man put out that moon before her hour of setting, and bring the curtain of black night down upon the land?”
The chief laughed a little at the question. “No, my lord, that no man can do. The moon is stronger than man who looks on her, nor can she vary in her courses.”
“Ye say so. Yet I tell you that tomorrow night, about two hours before midnight, we will cause the moon to be eaten up for a space of an hour and half an hour. Yes, deep darkness shall cover the earth, and it shall be for a sign that Ignosi is indeed king of the Kukuanas. If we do this thing, will ye be satisfied?”
“Yea, my lords,” answered the old chief with a smile, which was reflected on the faces of his companions; “if ye do this thing, we will be satisfied indeed.”
“It shall be done; we three, Incubu, Bougwan, and Macumazahn, have said it, and it shall be done. Dost thou hear, Infadoos?”
“I hear, my lord, but it is a wonderful thing that ye promise, to put out the moon, the mother of the world, when she is at her full.”
“Yet shall we do it, Infadoos.”
“It is well, my lords. Today, two hours after sunset, Twala will send for my lords to witness the girls dance, and one hour after the dance begins the girl whom Twala thinks the fairest shall be killed by Scragga, the king’s son, as a sacrifice to the Silent Ones, who sit and keep watch by the mountains yonder,” and he pointed towards the three strange-looking peaks where Solomon’s road was supposed to end. “Then let my lords darken the moon, and save the maiden’s life, and the people will believe indeed.”
“Ay,” said the old chief, still smiling a little, “the people will believe indeed.”
“Two miles from Loo,” went on Infadoos, “there is a hill curved like a new moon, a stronghold, where my regiment, and three other regiments which these chiefs command, are stationed. This morning we will make a plan whereby two or three other regiments may be moved there also. Then, if in truth my lords can darken the moon, in the darkness I will take my lords by the hand and lead them out of Loo to this place, where they shall be safe, and thence we can make war upon Twala the king.”
“It is good,” said I. “Let leave us to sleep awhile and to make ready our magic.”
Infadoos rose, and, having saluted us, departed with the chiefs.
“My friends,” said Ignosi, so soon as they were gone, “can ye do this wonderful thing, or were ye speaking empty words to the captains?”
“We believe that we can do it, Umbopa—Ignosi, I mean.”
“It is strange,” he answered, “and had ye not been Englishmen I would not have believed it; but I have learned that English ‘gentlemen’ tell no lies. If we live through the matter, be sure that I will repay you.”
“Ignosi,” said Sir Henry, “promise me one thing.”
“I will promise, Incubu, my friend, even before I hear it,” answered the big man with a smile. “What is it?”
“This: that if ever you come to be king of this people you will do away with the smelling out of wizards such as we saw last night; and that the killing of men without trial shall no longer take place in the land.”
Ignosi thought for a moment after I had translated this request, and then answered—
“The ways of black people are not as the ways of white men, Incubu, nor do we value life so highly. Yet I will promise. If it be in my power to hold them back, the witch-finders shall hunt no more, nor shall any man die the death without trial or judgment.”
“That’s a bargain, then,” said Sir Henry; “and now let us get a little rest.”
Thoroughly wearied out, we were soon sound asleep, and slept till Ignosi woke us about eleven o’clock. Then we rose, washed, and ate a hearty breakfast. After that we went outside the hut and walked about, amusing ourselves with examining the structure of the Kukuana huts and observing the customs of the women.
“I hope that eclipse will come off,” said Sir Henry presently.
“If it does not it will soon be all up with us,” I answered mournfully; “for so sure as we are living men some of those chiefs will tell the whole story to the king, and then there will be another sort of eclipse, and one that we shall certainly not like.”
Returning to the hut we ate some dinner, and passed the rest of the day in receiving visits of ceremony and curiosity. At length the sun set, and we enjoyed a couple of hours of such quiet as our melancholy forebodings would allow to us. Finally, about half-past eight, a messenger came from Twala to bid us to the great annual “dance of girls” which was about to be celebrated.
Hastily we put on the chain shirts that the king had sent us, and taking our rifles and ammunition with us, so as to have them handy in case we had to fly, as suggested by Infadoos, we started boldly enough, though with inward fear and trembling. The great space in front of the king’s kraal bore a very
