The People of the Mist by H. Rider Haggard (christmas read aloud .txt) 📗

sacrifice which kept down the population to its low level, made the power of the priests absolute, and their wealth greater than that of all the other inhabitants of the country put together, for they chose the victims that had offended against Jâl or against the mother-goddess, and confiscated their possessions to “the service of the temple.” Thus the great herds of half-wild cattle which the travellers had seen on the plains belonged to the priests, and the priests took a fourth of the produce of every man’s field and garden—that is, when they did not take it all, and his life with it.

Twice in every year great festivals were held in the temple of Jâl, at the beginning of the spring season and in the autumn after the ingathering of the crops. At each of these festivals many victims were offered in sacrifice, some upon the stone and some by being hurled into the boiling pool beneath the statue, there to be consumed by the Snake or swept down the secret course of the underground river. The feast celebrated in the spring was sacred to Jâl, and that in the autumn to the mother-goddess. But there was this difference between them—that at the spring ceremony female victims only were sacrificed to Jâl to propitiate him and to avert his evil influence, while at the autumn celebration males alone were offered up to the mother-goddess in gratitude for her gifts of plenty. Also criminals were occasionally thrown to the Snake that his hunger might be satisfied. The priests had other rites, Olfan added, and these they would have an opportunity of witnessing if the spring festival, which should be celebrated on the second day from that date, were held according to custom.

“It shall not be celebrated,” said Juanna, almost fiercely.

Then Leonard, who had hitherto listened in silence, asked a question through Juanna. “How is it,” he said, “that Nam and his fellows, being already in absolute power, were so willing to accept the gods Jâl and Aca when they appeared in person, seeing that henceforth they must obey, not rule?”

“For two reasons, lord,” Olfan answered; “first, because the gods are gods, and their servants know them; and secondly, because Nam has of late stood in danger of losing his authority. Of all the chief priests that have been told of, Nam is the most cruel and the most greedy. For three years he has doubled the tale of sacrifices, and though the people love these sights of death, they murmur, for none know upon whom the knife shall fall. Therefore he was glad to greet the gods come back, since he thought that they would confirm his power, and set him higher than he sat before. Now he is astonished because they proclaim peace and will have none of the sacrifice of men, for Nam does not love such gentle gods.”

“Yet he shall obey them,” said Otter, speaking for the first time by the mouth of Juanna, who all this while was acting as interpreter, “or drink his own medicine, for I myself will sacrifice him to myself.”

When Juanna had translated the dwarf’s bloodthirsty threat, Olfan bowed his head meekly and smiled; clearly the prospect of Nam’s removal did not cause him unmixed grief. It was curious to see this stately warrior chief humbling his pride before the misshapen, knob-nosed Kaffir.

“Say, Olfan,” asked Leonard, “who cut from the rock the great statue on which we sat last night, and what is that reptile we saw when the woman was thrown into the pool of troubled waters?”

“Ask the Water-dweller of the water-dweller, the Snake of the snake, and the Dwarf of his image,” answered Olfan, nodding towards Otter. “How can I, who am but a man, tell of such things, lord? I only know that the statue was fashioned in the far past, when we, who are now but a remnant, were a great people; and as for the Snake, he has always lived there in his holy place. Our grandfather’s grandfathers knew him, and since that day he has not changed.”

“Interesting fact in natural history,” said Leonard; “I wish I could get him home alive to the Zoological Gardens.”

Then he asked another question. “Tell me, Olfan, what became of the red stones yesterday, and of him who offended in offering them to the god yonder?”

“The most of them were cast into the pit of waters, lord, there to be hidden for ever. There were three hide sacks full.”

“Oh, heavens!” groaned Leonard when Juanna had translated this. “Otter, you have something to answer for!”

“But the choicest,” went on Olfan, “were put in a smaller bag, and tied about the neck of the man who had sinned. There were not many, but among them were the largest stones, that until yesterday shone in the eyes of the idol, stones blue and red together. Also, there was that stone, shaped like a human heart, which hitherto has been worn by the high priest on the days of sacrifice, and with it the image of the Dwarf fashioned from a single gem, and that of the Water-dweller cut from the great blue stone, and other smaller ones chosen because of their beauty and also because they have been known for long in the land. For although many of these pebbles are found where the priests dig for them, but few are large and perfect, and the art of shaping them is lost.”

“And what became of the man?” Leonard asked, speaking as quietly as he could, for his excitement was great.

“Nay, I do not know,” answered Olfan. “I only know that he was let down with ropes into the home of the Snake, and that he gained that holy place, for it was told to me that he dragged rope after him, perhaps as he fled before the Snake.

“Now it was promised to the man that when he had laid the bag of stones in the place of the Snake, for the Snake to guard for ever, his sins would be purged, and, if it pleased the Water-dweller to spare him, that he should be drawn up again. Thus Nam swore to him, but he did not keep his oath, for when the man had entered the cave he bade those who held the ropes to cast them loose, and I know not what happened to him, but doubtless he is food for the Snake. None who look upon that holy place may live to see the sun again.”

“I only hope that the brute did not swallow the rubies as well as their bearer,” said Leonard to Juanna; “not that there is much chance of our getting them, anyway.”

Then Olfan went, nor did he return till the afternoon, when he announced that Nam and his two principal priests waited without to speak with them. Juanna ordered that they should be admitted, and presently they came in. Their air was humble, and their heads were bowed; but Leonard saw fury gleaming in their sombre eyes, and was not deceived by this mask of humility.

“We come, O ye gods,” said Nam, addressing Juanna and Otter, who sat side by side on the throne-like chairs: “we come to ask your will, for ye have laid down a new law which we do not understand. On the third day from now is the feast of Jâl, and fifty women are made ready to be offered to Jâl that his wrath may be appeased with their blood, and that he may number their spirits among his servants, and withhold his anger from the People of the Mist, giving them a good season. This has been the custom of the land for many a generation, and whenever that custom was broken then the sun has not shone, nor the corn grown, nor have the cattle and the goats multiplied after their kind. But now, O ye gods, ye have proclaimed a new law, and I, who am yet your servant, come hither to ask your will. How shall the feast go, and what sacrifice shall be offered unto you?”

“The feast shall go thus,” answered Juanna. “Ye shall offer us a sacrifice indeed; to each of us shall ye offer an ox and a goat, and the ox and the goat shall be given to the Snake to feed him, but not the flesh of men; moreover, the feast shall be held at noon and not in the night-time.”

“An ox and a goat—to each an ox and a goat!” said Nam humbly, but in a voice of bitterest sarcasm. “As ye will so let it be, O ye gentle-hearted gods. And the festival shall be held at noon, and not in the night season as of old. As ye will, O ye kind gods. Your word is my law, O Aca, and O Jâl;” and bowing to the ground the aged man withdrew himself, followed by his satellites.

“That devilish priest makes my flesh creep,” said Juanna, when she had translated his words.

“Oh! Baas, Baas,” echoed Otter, “why did you not shoot him while you might? Now he will surely live to throw us to the Snake.”

As he spoke Soa advanced from behind the thrones where she had taken refuge when Nam entered.

“It is not well for a dog who gives himself out as a god to threaten the life of one whom he has tricked,” said she meaningly. “Perchance the hour shall come when the true god will avenge himself on the false, and by the hand of his faithful servant, whom you would do to death, you base-born dwarf.” And before anyone could answer she left the chamber, casting a malevolent look at Otter as she went.

“That servant of yours makes my flesh creep, Juanna,” said Leonard. “One thing is clear enough, we must not allow her to overhear any more of our plans; she knows a great deal too much already.”

“I cannot understand what has happened to Soa,” said Juanna; “she seems so changed.”

“You made that remark before, Juanna; but for my part I don’t think she is changed. The sight of her amiable parent has developed her hidden virtues, that is all.”