Tom spent the rest of that day in seclusion. He was making medicine, was Mbutu's invariable answer to enquiries. The white man was making medicine!--the word flew round the village, and even the most sceptical began to believe there was something in it. Just before sunset Tom sent for the katikiro, who had been bursting with curiosity to know what was going on in his own hut. Darkness fell, and the stars appeared, and yet he remained with Tom. The chief, in the hut adjoining, once or twice fancied he heard the sounds of stifled laughter. Unable to contain himself, he went quietly to Tom's hut, and crept in before Mbutu had time to interpose. Tom was standing in the middle, with arms akimbo, smiling down at the katikiro, who was sitting on the floor fairly shaking with half-suppressed merriment. He got up rather sheepishly when he saw his chief looking grimly at him, and sidled out of the hut. Tom turned to the chief and said cheerfully:
"I was only finishing my medicine-making, chief. Everything is ready now."
"Ah, um! Are you quite sure that your medicine will be stronger than Mabruki's? If not, I would urge you to flee at once; I will send trusty men with you. For if Mabruki prevails to-morrow my people will claim a terrible revenge."
"Don't be alarmed, chief. I will answer for my medicine. I hope your sleep won't be disturbed; as for me, I have been working hard, and want a good night's rest."
Very early next morning the villagers began to assemble on the site of the previous day's ceremony. Time does not exist for the negro; sunrise and sundown are his only periods, and the people were quite content to squat in a circle through all the long hot day. The crowd was larger than ever; all the boys and girls had been brought to see the show. Villagers, even, from outlying parts had come in, the news having spread with that wonderful speed which is one of the most striking phenomena in African life. Nor were the tongues of the people tied by any feeling of solemnity; on the previous day they might have been compared to the congregation in a cathedral, to-day they were like the spectators at a circus.
Sunset was the time fixed for the trial of strength. As the sun disappeared the officials came from their huts, the katikiro apparently relishing his recollection of the previous night's amusement, and failing lamentably to maintain the dignity of his office. The medicine-man was brought in; he had wisely laid aside his flummery, and looked more ghastly than ever in his coating of kaolin. The chief entered the ring, with his drummers and tusk-bearers, followed by Tom, and a score of torch-bearers ranged themselves around.