"Why!" she repeated, astonished. "But it is "why not!" Listen! Have you thought? Winkleman is now but a week"s march from M"tela. And here, where we stand, it is perhaps twenty days, perhaps more. Winkleman would arrive nearly two weeks ahead of you. Tell me, how long would it take you to win M"tela"s friendship so it would not be shaken?"
Kingozi"s face lit with a grim smile.
"A week," he promised confidently.
"You see! And Herr Winkleman is equal to you; you have said so yourself. Is not it so?"
"It"s so, all right."
"Then--you see?"
"I see."
"Then we shall go back to the doctor. Oh, do you not see it is for that I am glad--truly, truly! You must believe me that!"
"I believe you," said Kingozi. "Nevertheless, I do not think I shall go back."
"But that is madness. You cannot arrive in time. And it is to lose your eyes all for nothing, for a foolish idea that you do your duty!"
Kingozi shook his head. She wrung her hands in despair.
"Oh, I know that look of you!" she cried. "You see only down your narrow lane!"
CHAPTER XXIII
THE COUNCIL OF WAR
That evening Kingozi called to him Cazi Moto, Simba, and Mali-ya-bwana.
He commanded them to build a little fire, and when the light from the leaping flames had penetrated his dull vision, he told them to sit down before him. Thus they knew that a serious council was intended. They squatted on their heels below the white man in his chair, and looked up at him with bright, devoted eyes.
"Listen," he said. "The matter is this: the _Inglishee_ are at war with the _Duyche_. Over from the Congo comes a _Duyche_ known as _Bwana_ Nyele.[14] It is his business to reach this _shenzi_ king, M"tela, and persuade M"tela to fight on the side of the _Duyche_. It is our business to reach M"tela and persuade him to fight on the side of the _Inglishee_. Is that understood?"
[Footnote 14: _Bwana_ Nyele--the master with the mane, i.e., beard or hair.]
"It is understood, _bwana_" said they.
"But this _Duyche, Bwana_ Nyele, is only one week"s march from M"tela; and he undoubtedly has many gifts for M"tela and the Kabilagani. And we are many days" safari distant, and I am blind and cannot hurry." he three uttered little clucks of sympathy and interest.
"But for all that we may win. You three men are my eyes and my right hand. I have a plan, and this is what you must do: Cazi Moto must stay with me to be headman of safari, and to be my eyes when we come to M"tela"s land. You Simba, and you Mali-ya-bwana, must go with six of the best men to where _Bwana_ Nyele is marching. These two strange _shenzis_ will guide you. Then when you are near the safari of _Bwana_ Nyele you must arrange so that these _shenzis_ can have no talk with any of the safari of _Bwana_ Nyele. That is understood?"
"Yes, _bwana_," said Simba. "Do we kill these _shenzis?_"
"No, do not kill them. Tie them fast."
"Yes, _bwana_, and then?"
"This is the most difficult. You must get hold of _Bwana_ Nyele, and you must tie him fast also, and keep him from his safari. He is a _m"zungu_[15], yes--but he is a _Duyche_, and my enemy, and these things are right, because I command it."
[Footnote 15: _M"zungu_--white man.]
"Yes, _bwana_."
"Then you must keep _Bwana_ Nyele and these two _shenzis_ close in camp, hidden where their safari cannot find them. And after two weeks you must send two men to M"tela"s to find me, and to tell me where you are hidden. Now is all that understood? You, Simba, tell me what you are to do."
"Mali-ya-bwana, myself, six men and these _shenzis_ travel to where the safari of _Bwana_ Nyele marches. When we are near that safari we tie up the two _shenzis_. Then we get _Bwana_ Nyele and tie him up in a secret camp. Then after two weeks we send two men to tell the _bwana_ where we are. But, _bwana_, how do we get _Bwana_ Nyele?"
"That I will tell you soon. One thing you forgot: you must reach the _Duyche_ before he gets into M"tela"s country. This means travel night and day--fast travel. Can this be done?"
"We shall pick good men, _bwana_, runners of the Wakamba. We shall do our best."
"Good. Each man four days" _potio_, and what biltong he can use. Simba, take my small rifle and fifty cartridges. Take some snuff, beads, and wire--only a little--to trade for _potio_ if you meet with other people. Understood?"
"Yes, _bwana_."
"Cazi Moto," he directed, "bring me the small box of wood from my _sandoko_."
He slid the cover off this box when it was delivered into his hands, fumbled a moment, and held up an object.
"What is this?" he asked.
"It is a bone, _bwana_."
"Yes, it is a bone; but it is more. It is a magic. With this you will take _Bwana_ Nyele."
He could sense the stir of interest in the three men before him.
"Listen carefully. This is what you must do. When you have come near to this safari, you must follow it until it has put down its loads and is just about to make camp. Not a rest period on the road; not after camp is made--just at the moment when the men begin to untie the loads, when they begin to pitch the tents. That is the magic time. Understand?"
"Yes, _bwana_," they chorused breathlessly.
"Simba must be ready. He must take off his clothes, and he must oil his body and paint it, and put on the ornaments of a _shenzi_ of this country. For that purpose he must take with him the necklace, the armlets, anklets, and belt that I traded for with the _shenzis_, and which Cazi Moto will get from my tent. Do you know the style of painting of these _shenzis_ of the plains, Simba?"
"Yes, _bwana_."
"It is important that you make yourself a _shenzi_. This magic is a bad magic otherwise. Then at the moment I have named, Simba as a _shenzi_ will take this magic bone and hold it out to _Bwana_ Nyele saying nothing. _Bwana_ Nyele will say words, perhaps in Swahili which Simba will understand; perhaps in some other language which he will not understand. Simba must point thus; and then must start in that direction. _Bwana_ Nyele will follow a few steps. Then Simba will say: "Many more, _bwana_, over there only a little distance."" Kingozi uttered this last sentence in atrocious Swahili. "You must say it in just that way, like a _shenzi_. Say it."
Simba repeated the words and accent.
"Yes, that is it. Then say nothing more, no matter what he asks; and do not let him touch the magic bone. Point. He will follow you; and when he has followed out of sight of the safari you will all seize him and tie him fast. The rest is as I have commanded."
"How does _bwana_ know how these things will happen thus?" breathed Simba in awestricken tones.
"It is a magic," replied Kingozi gravely.
Over and over he drilled them until the details were thoroughly understood. Then he dismissed them and leaned back with a sigh. The plan was simple, but ought to work. At the moment of making camp Winkleman would be less apt than at any other time to take with him an escort--especially if his interest or cupidity were aroused--for every one would be exceedingly busy. And no fear about the interest and cupidity! The "magic" bone Kingozi had confided to Simba was a fragment of a Pleistocene fossil. Kingozi himself valued it highly, but he hoped and expected to get it back. It made excellent bait, which no scientist could resist. Of course there might be a second white man with Winkleman, but from the reported size of the latter"s safari he thought not. All in all, Kingozi had great reliance in his magic.