Just as Barega reached his place a man came dashing up the village from the northern gate, never pausing till he stood before the chief. It was one of the principal scouts. In breathless haste he stated that he had learned that a strong Arab force was advancing through the forest. It was bent on some great enterprise, for the caravan included thousands of slaves, carrying all the paraphernalia of a camp and large stores of provisions. It was by this time only twelve marches away, and was coming steadily in the direction of the village. The news went through the assembly in an instant, and silenced every tongue. The medicine-man straightened himself, and with something of his former assurance proclaimed that the white man was accountable, and that unless he were expelled or slain the village would fall an easy prey to the enemy. He evidently welcomed the diversion, and was preparing for a long harangue, when Tom, advancing, stilled the gathering murmurs with an imperious gesture.
"Chief," he said, "heed not what the medicine-man says. It is a trial of strength between our magic to-day; if his medicine proves the stronger, turn me out or slay me; but if mine, then I promise you I will not leave you till we have made a good account with your Arab foes. I know the Arabs; I have fought them; I have been a prisoner among them and escaped; I saved you from them. Is it a bargain?"
Loud shouts of assent broke from the whole company, and the chief, with a dignified inclination of the head, said: "It shall be so." Then, amid breathless silence, the trial of strength commenced.
Tom had resolved from the outset that he would make no attempt to persuade the natives that Mabruki's medicine was mere vanity and hollowness. Superstitions generations old could not be banished in a night. His object was to show, not that the medicine did not exist, but that it was poor medicine, quite unworthy of an important village, and not to be compared with the medicine he himself had at command. He began with a short speech in which he recited the history of the affair up to the present, finding it rather difficult to get on without the interpreting aid of Mbutu, who was not at hand. He laid stress on the strange disaster that had befallen the primest cattle, and reminded the people how the medicine-man had professed to discover that he was the cause, if not the agent, of the death of the bulls. If this accusation was merely the outcome of spite and hatred, the Bahima would know how much reliance to place on it. If, however, it were really due to the operation of Mabruki's magic--here Tom turned swiftly toward the medicine-man, and cried: "We shall see what faith can be placed on the words of an ignoramus like this. Bahima and Bairo, look!"