“Would the Great Man, who leads the white godhead on the elephant, like to eat a piece of M’Rua and would he agree to let M’Rua eat a piece of him, so that we shall be brothers, between whom there is no deceit or treason?”
Kali immediately interpreted these words, but as he saw by Stasch’s face that the latter had no inclination to taste a “piece” of M’Rua, he turned to the negro and said:
“Oh, M’Rua! Do you really think that the white man, who is so powerful that the elephant fears him, who has the thunder within his grasp, who kills lions, before whom wobo wags his tail, who commands fiery snakes to rise up into the sky, and who shatters rocks—do you think that he can pledge blood brotherhood with any king he may happen to meet? But rather think whether the Great Spirit will not punish you for being so presumptuous and whether it will not be honor enough for you to eat a piece of Kali, the son of Fumba, the ruler of the Wa-hima, and Kali, son of Fumba, to eat a piece of you.”
“The Great Man neither stole nor bought Kali, but only saved his life; that is why Kali leads the good Msimu and the man into the land of the Wa-hima, so that the Wa-hima and Fumba can show them respect and bring them many presents.”
“Let it be as you say, and M’Rua shall eat a piece of Kali, and Kali a piece of M’Rua!”
“Where is the sorcerer? Where is the sorcerer? Where is Kamba?” at once cried many voices.
Then something happened that might have completely changed the situation, clouded the friendly relations, and converted the negroes into the enemies of their newly arrived guests. From the hut which stood apart, surrounded by a special fence, there suddenly came an infernal noise. It was like the roar of a lion, the clap of thunder, the blast of trumpets, the laugh of a hyena, the howl of a wolf, and the terrible squeak of rusty hinges. When King heard these awful sounds he began to roar, Saba began to bark, and the donkey, on which Nasibu sat, to cry out “J-a!” The warriors sprang up as if drenched with boiling water and tore their spears out of the ground. Terrible confusion ensued. The disturbing cries of “Our Msimu! Our Msimu!” reached Stasch’s ears, and the respect and good-will with which the negroes had looked upon the newcomers disappeared in an instant. The savages began to throw suspicious and hostile glances around. Amongst the crowd a threatening noise was heard and the awful din in the lonely hut increased more and more.