As soon as she was gone the congregation, if I may call it so, leaving their seats, swarmed down into the outer court of the temple through its eastern gate, which was now opened. Here the priests proceeded to distribute among them the offerings taken from the altar, giving a grain of corn to each of the men to eat and a flower to each of the women, which flower she kissed and hid in the bosom of her robe.
Evidently it was a kind of sacrament.
Ragnall lifted himself a little upon his hands and knees, and I saw that his eyes glowed and his face was very pale.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Demand that those people give me back my wife, whom they have stolen.
Don't try to stop me, Quatermain, I mean what I say.""But, but," I stammered, "they never will and we are but three unarmed men."Hans lifted up his little yellow face between us.
"Baas," he hissed, "I have a thought. The Lord Baas wishes to get the lady dressed like a bird as to her head and like one for burial as to her body, who is, he says, his wife. But for us to take her from among so many is impossible. Now what did that old witch-doctor Har?t declare just now? He declared, speaking for his fetish, that by our help alone the White Kendah can resist the hosts of the Black Kendah and that no harm must be done to us if the White Kendah would continue to live. So it seems, Baas, that we have something to sell which the White Kendah must buy, namely our help against the Black Kendah, for if we will not fight for them, they believe that they cannot conquer their enemies and kill the devil Jana. Well now, supposing that the Baas says that our price is the white woman dressed like a bird, to be delivered over to us when we have defeated the Black Kendah and killed Jana--after which they will have no more use for her. And supposing that the Baas says that if they refuse to pay that price we will burn all our powder and cartridges so that the rifles are no use? Is there not a path to walk on here?""Perhaps," I answered. "Something of the sort was working in my mind but I had no time to think it out."Turning, I explained the idea to Ragnall, adding:
"I pray you not to be rash. If you are, not only may we be killed, which does not so much matter, but it is very probable that even if they spare us they will put an end to your wife rather than suffer one whom they look upon as holy and who is necessary to their faith in its last struggle to be separated from her charge of the Child."This was a fortunate argument of mine and one which went home.
"To lose her now would be more than I could bear," he muttered.
"Then will you promise to let me try to manage this affair and not to interfere with me and show violence?"He hesitated a moment and answered:
"Yes, I promise, for you two are cleverer than I am and--I cannot trust my judgment.""Good," I said, assuming an air of confidence which I did not feel.
"Now we will go down to call upon Har?t and his friends. I want to have a closer look at that temple."So behind our screen of bushes we wriggled back a little distance till we knew that the slope of the ground would hide us when we stood up.
Then as quickly as we could we made our way eastwards for something over a quarter of a mile and after this turned to the north. As Iexpected, beyond the ring of the crater we found ourselves on the rising, tree-clad bosom of the mountain and, threading our path through the cedars, came presently to that track or roadway which led to the eastern gate of the amphitheatre. This road we followed unseen until presently the gateway appeared before us. We walked through it without attracting any attention, perhaps because all the people were either talking together, or praying, or perhaps because like themselves we were wrapped in white robes. At the mouth of the tunnel we stopped and I called out in a loud voice:
"The white lords and their servant have come to visit Har?t, as he invited them to do. Bring us, we pray you, into the presence of Har?t."Everyone wheeled round and stared at us standing there in the shadow of the gateway tunnel, for the sun behind us was still low. My word, how they did stare! A voice cried:
"Kill them! Kill these strangers who desecrate our temple.""What!" I answered. "Would you kill those to whom your high-priest has given safe-conduct; those moreover by whose help alone, as your Oracle has just declared, you can hope to slay Jana and destroy his hosts?""How do they know that?" shouted another voice. "They are magicians!""Yes," I remarked, "all magic does not dwell in the hearts of the White Kendah. If you doubt it, go to look at the Watcher in the Cave whom your Oracle told you is dead. You will find that it did not lie."As I spoke a man rushed through the gates, his white rob streaming on the wind, shouting as he emerged from the tunnel:
"O Priests and Priestesses of the Child, the ancient serpent is dead.
I whose office it is to feed the serpent on the day of the new moon have found him dead in his house.""You hear," I interpolated calmly. "The Father of Snakes is dead. If you want to know how, I will tell you. We looked on it and it died."They might have answered that poor Savage also looked on it with the result that /he/ died, but luckily it did not occur to them to do so.
On the contrary, they just stood still and stared at us like a flock of startled sheep.
Presently the sheep parted and the shepherd in the shape of Har?t appeared looking, I reflected, the very picture of Abraham softened by a touch of the melancholia of Job, that is, as I have always imagined those patriarchs. He bowed to us with his usual Oriental courtesy, and we bowed back to him. Hans' bow, I may explain, was of the most peculiar nature, more like a /skulpat/, as the Boers call a land-tortoise, drawing its wrinkled head into its shell and putting it out again than anything else. Then Har?t remarked in his peculiar English, which I suppose the White Kendah took for some tongue known only to magicians:
