Red Strangers

by Elspeth Huxley

  Yet there were no spears, no arrows; nothing but a noise.

  Another crack sounded and something kicked a little spurt of dust out of the ground at Muthengi’s feet. He looked down, and there was nothing there. Something invisible and deadly was trying to kill him from the air.

  Terror clutched at his bowels in a fearful grip and seemed to wrench them from his body. For a moment his legs were paralysed and his feet seemed pegged to the ground. With a yell of panic his warriors leapt into the air like grasshoppers and flung themselves in a wild wave of flying heels, skins and feathers into the shelter of the forest.

  Muthengi stood erect and held his heels to the ground with the last dregs of willpower, waiting for the crackle that somehow killed. None came. He turned and walked slowly across the pasture after his fleeing warriors, the spear steady in his hand. Behind him nine dead and seven wounded lay still upon the blood-soaked grass.

  8

  THAT night the council of war decided upon submission.

  “ He kills us with fire at a distance,” an njama said. “ He slays without weapons, out of the air. How can we fight against a noise ?”

  “ He has a magic more powerful than anything we know,” another said. “ It is something so strong that Irumu, the greatest mundu-mugu in the land, has no antidote. It is best to submit, or we shall all be killed.”

  “ It is better that he should take our cattle than our lives,” a third agreed. “ Then he will go, and we will raid Kutu’s and Karuri’s again to replenish our herds.”

  “ If we submit at once he will return quickly to his own country,” a fourth said, “ and leave us again in peace. Men go far to capture wealth, but what man fails to return to his home when he has found it ?”

  Muthengi sat in silence, his face like a dark cloud over the sun. His council was against him; he alone urged war and derided admission of defeat. Nduini was sent in his stead to lead the deputation of surrender. Muthengi sat all day in his father’s homestead refusing to eat or to speak, his eyes on the ground and rage deep in his heart.

  Two days later the stranger departed, taking with him no cattle or goats. He told Nduini that twenty young men must go at once to Tetu, at the foot of Nyeri hill, to dig a ditch.

  The whole performance was so mystifying that no one could put forward an explanation. For a day the senior elders’ council discussed it. How could a man conquer an enemy and take no cattle ? The very lack of purpose in such an action made them uneasy. The wisest course, it was decided, was to send the warriors to Tetu, although it was feared that they would never return. Besides, the seven who were wounded in the fight had been taken there, and their relatives wished to find out what had become of them.

  So twenty warriors were selected to go. None wanted to, for they were afraid, but they could not disobey the council. Muthengi refused sullenly to lead them and Nduini was appointed in his place. To everyone’s surprise, Matu, who had proved reluctant and self-effacing as a warrior, volunteered. Before they went Irumu blessed them with mukenya sprigs and beer and gave them especially potent charms.

  The warriors were away for two months. Their relations knew that they were still alive, for at intervals scouts were sent to Tetu and reported that the young men were digging together in a ditch with peculiar implements of iron belonging to the stranger.

  The twenty youths returned in good health, but as mystified as ever. Each carried in his hand two round and shining objects, made of metal, presented to him by the stranger. They were clearly some form of magic, but the stranger had not explained from what evil they gave protection. Irumu was unable to make any suggestions; he had never seen such things before. A few wore them in leather pouches around their necks; some buried them under the hut in case their use should be made clear later; but most threw them away in the bush, thinking them useless and possibly charged with danger.

  “This stranger asked us, by means of his interpreter, who was the ruler of our district,” Nduini said. “We told him: no one man, but the generation called Mwangi rules the country. The stranger asked again: who among these elders is the greatest ? We replied: none, but Irumu the mundu-mugu is full of wisdom and president of the senior elders’ council; and Muthengi, son of Waseru, is our leader in war.

  “The stranger told us : ‘Say to Irumu and to Muthengi that I wish to see them here. I do not ask them to dig a ditch, but to talk. If they come in peace they shall become rulers and rich men, but if they lead the warriors against me again, as they did before, I will kill them all by burning them at a distance so that none remains alive.”

  “How can this madman talk as if his warriors had conquered us ?” Muthengi asked hotly. “What is it to him who rules the country ? And why does he not take our cattle and goats, and then go ?”

  “He does not say,” Nduini answered, “but he is certainly mad.”

  Irumu said: “It would be best to go to him, or he will come again with his magic. Perhaps he waits for the harvest, and then he will return to his own country.”

  9

  WHEN Muthengi received the message he said nothing, but went silently to his hut. He rubbed fat and ochre on his limbs and painted his legs with chalk. He tied Colobus skin ruffs to his ankles and rattles to his thighs; he put on an apron of serval skins and tied monkey tails to his elbows, and wound strings of beads and cowrie shells around his chest. He arranged his hair with great care in ochred plaits and three pigtails, and surmounted it with his ostrich-feather head-dress. On his hip he strapped his red-sheathed sword and in his hands he took his spear, his club and his big white-faced shield with its red and black design. In full battle attire, and with no attendants, he strode alone along the path to Tetu.

  There he saw a strange sight before him. At the foot of Nyeri hill was a level place, and here rows of huts had been built as if by a man with a fantastic number of wives. A little way off, under some trees, stood a big house of poles and grass, but with four angles, and a pole jutting out of its thatched roof. A piece of coloured cloth was tied on to the pole. All around the flat space and the houses was a big ditch, as deep as a man was tall.

  He crossed it by a bridge of planks and walked directly to the big house of angles where he knew the red stranger would be. At the door a man stood before him and spoke words which he did not understand, but he paid no attention and walked on through a door which required no stooping to pass. There were holes in the walls which let in much light, and there was no fire.

  He saw the stranger opposite in the attitude which had been described to him, with a flat board between his body and the floor. His face was pale as if from leprosy and his nose sharp like an axe; it seemed that he wore a piece of smooth black skin over his head.

  “You summoned me,” Muthengi said. “ I have come.”

  He stood still, filling the room, spear and shield in hand.

  The stranger rose to his feet and for a moment the narrow, light eyes of one stared into the hate-filled eyes of the other across the room. Then the stranger shouted an order and a man came running.

  “Who are you, warrior ?” this man asked. “What do you want with the white-skinned ruler ?”

  “This man sent for me,” Muthengi answered. “I am the son of Waseru. I am here.”

  Through the interpreter the stranger asked: “Do you not know that it is forbidden to come with spears and swords into this place ?”

  Muthengi answered: “How can it be forbidden for warriors to carry weapons ? And who should forbid them but I, their leader ? But tell the stranger that he need not be afraid; I shall not kill him.”

  The stranger laughed at this, and questioned Muthengi about the number of his warriors and other things. Then he said :

  “I have come in peace and not in war; nor shall I take away your cattle and goats. I have come to govern the country with justice on behalf of my leader, who is a very great ruler indeed and has conquered many people besides you. I therefore say: if you will keep peace between your warriors and me, I will make you a lead
er in your own country and you shall help me to rule. But if you resist, then I shall bring followers who kill as you saw your warriors killed, and there will be much bloodshed and suffering, and you yourself will be captured and sent far away from your own people to live alone in poverty. Which, then, shall it be between us: peace or war ?”

  Muthengi did not answer. He did not know what to say. He had come to talk of the number of cattle that were to be seized, but this man spoke of rule and justice and things which had nothing to do with the matter at all.

  The stranger gave an order and two tall men came from behind and seized his arms roughly. He did not struggle, although his heart leapt within him like a prisoned bird. They took him to a hut, thrust him inside and barred the door; and they took away his spear, sword and shield. Anger choked him with such bitterness that he sat upon the floor and shook all over; a red cloak enveloped his eyes and a noise of thunder drummed in his ears.

  10

  TOWARDS evening the interpreter came into the hut with a smouldering log and kindled the fire. He greeted the prisoner with friendliness, but Muthengi would not speak. Presently he cooked maize in an open pot and roasted bananas in the ashes, but Muthengi would not eat.

  “Why are you angry ?” the interpreter asked. “This stranger has not come here to take your cattle or your goats. He comes in peace, and will protect your people from the Masai.”

  “What protection do we need ?” Muthengi demanded. “Is not that the daily business of my warriors ? And when did we send for help from strangers ?”

  “You did not send for them, but they have come,” the interpreter said. “There are very many of them, and their power is great. They will not go away, for I have seen them come across the water and I understand their ways. If you do what they tell you, they will reward you well with position and with riches, but if you fight you will be killed. Only a fool would hesitate in his decision.”

  “I do not understand what he says,” Muthengi continued. “He talks of ruling the country. How can one man rule a country? Now it is ruled by the generation Mwangi, to whom the generation Mairia told the secrets of power; and after them the generation Muirungu will rule.”

  “He will see that justice is done,” the Swahili said. “He is a very wise judge.”

  “Justice is done by the council of elders and by the council of aramati, the old men,” Muthengi said. “It has always been so, and their wisdom is never in doubt. Did they not learn the law from their predecessors, who were in turn taught to govern by their fathers ? What does he, a stranger, know of justice ?

  Has he no justice in his own country, that he comes to seek ours ?”

  “He knows a better justice than that of your councils,” the interpreter replied, growing a little impatient. “He knows also of a new God, who is very powerful; and he can cure men who are sick.”

  “There is no God more powerful than God, who dwells on Kerinyagga,” Muthengi answered, “and who can cure sickness except a mundu-mugu ?”

  The interpreter picked a roast banana out of the ashes and handed it to Muthengi without answering. “Many strange things exist in this ruler’s country,” he continued. “His people have laid two ropes of iron side by side from the edge of Wyaki’s country to that great water of which you know nothing, because you are an ignorant savage; it is from beyond this water that his people come. They travel on the iron ropes in something which I cannot describe, but it snorts like a rhino, and it runs so quickly that it can travel in a night and a day a distance which it will take a man three months to walk.”

  “That I do not believe,” Muthengi said.

  “It is true, nevertheless. If you are wise you will make friends with these strangers. Be warned by the fate of Wyaki, who fought them, and has been taken away to a distant country; and another man, whose mother was an Athi, has been put into his place by these strangers.”

  “They could not do that,” Muthengi said. “I am the leader of the warriors, and no one but the council of war could elect another in my place. I think that you tell me many lies. No doubt this man will soon return to his own people and leave our country alone.”

  “You are a fool, then. He will stay.”

  “Why ?” Muthengi demanded. “Has he then no country of his own ? Why does he not return to it when he has taken our cattle and goats, as the Masai do ?”

  “I do not know,” the interpreter said.

  All next day Muthengi waited in the hut, while his anger slowly mounted. To treat him in such a manner was as gross an insult as could be offered to a warrior, a young man called a piece of God. Towards evening he was taken out, but when he asked for his spear and shield they were refused. Anger came over him until his limbs shook as they did when he was ready to fight. Seeing this, his captors pushed him back into the hut and left him, alone and impotent in the dark.

  That night the interpreter came again to share his hut, and spoke of the same things: of the power of the strangers and of the wisdom of becoming their friend.

  By the time he was fetched again on the next afternoon Muthengi was weak with hunger and grief. His rage had fled, leaving only a cold pain in his heart. He was led again before the stranger, and saw the interpreter standing by his side. After the stranger had spoken, the Swahili said:

  “This man repeats again the things I have already told you. If you will do as he says you will be sent back at once to your homestead and become like a chief njama to this ruler, who will consult you on all matters to do with the country. Also, because of your importance, you will acquire many cattle and become rich. What is your answer ? Is it war or peace ?”

  Muthengi looked at the stranger’s sharp, graceless face, which he could not read, and at the big warriors; and when he thought of all that the interpreter had said a feeling of hopeless entanglement weighed him down. He was like a mole struggling helplessly in a trap. The red stranger had a magic that was too strong.

  “It is peace,” he said. “I do not know how this has happened, but I will do as he says.”

  At a word of command the warriors dropped his arms, and the stranger stepped forward and took his hand.

  “Now there is peace between you,” the interpreter said.

  BOOK II: MATU

  1902—1919

  CHAPTER I

  Tribute

  1

  FOR two seasons Irumu’s magic bound the stranger’s feet so that they could not return; but then, one morning, he came again. With him were many young men carrying loads. People were amazed to see warriors behaving like women; surely, they exclaimed, these men must be ashamed to bend their backs under loads and lean their foreheads against leather straps.

  The stranger sent for Muthengi and for the elders who carried the mungirima staffs of the senior council. Through the Swahili interpreter he said:

  “Now you must know that all fighting is finished, either between you and me or between you and the Masai. I have come to promise you peace, which is my gift to you, and justice; but in return for this I demand a tribute. Therefore each married man amongst you must give me one rupee for each woman in his homestead.”

  The elders, to whom the word was strange, asked : “What is a rupee ?”

  “It is the round metal object which was given by this stranger to those who dug the ditch at Tetu,” the interpreter said.

  “How can we give this person such things ?” the elders asked. “Only those who went to Tetu received them, and since they appeared to serve no purpose, most of them have been thrown away.”

  “That is very foolish,” the interpreter replied. “Do you not know that such things can be exchanged for food and goats ?”

  “It is you who are foolish,” the elders rejoined, “to think that any man would exchange a good goat for such objects. Can you eat them, or use them for ornament ? Perhaps, however, our smiths could learn to make them, and then we could give them to the strangers.”

  “That is not allowed,” the interpreter said. “You talk like ignorant men; bec
ause you have never travelled, you think that the world ends at the Sagana river. If you took these rupees to Maranga, or beyond to a new place called by the Masai word Nairobi, you would be able to exchange them for food and skins. However, that is beside the point. Those who received these objects when they dug the ditch at Tetu are now to give them back. Those who do not possess any must take one goat each to Tetu, and give it to the servants of this stranger.”

  2

  AT this a tremor of alarm passed through the group and the elders spoke to each other in low tones. Now, it seemed, the dreaded confiscation of stock was to begin. They withdrew at once to continue the discussion in private; but Muthengi was ordered to remain.

  “Between you and the stranger a pact has been made,” the interpreter said. “You are to obey him, and he will give you protection. Now he has decided to make you into a ruler, greater than anyone else on these ridges. All shall obey your orders. If anyone fails to do so, you are to come to Tetu, and if the stranger is satisfied that you have spoken the truth he will send his warriors to enforce your word. But if you lie to him your power will be taken away and you will become dishonoured and poor.”

  Muthengi kept his eyes on the ground and said nothing. Deep thoughts were stirring in his mind. He knew that what the interpreter had said was quite impossible. Only in matters of war would warriors obey the orders of the warriors’ leader, just as in matters of law people obeyed the senior elders’ council, in matters of land the muramati of their clan, and in matters of magic the mundu-mugu. He knew, too, that no man of his generation could presume to rule, since all were still ignorant as children of law and custom. The suggestion that the elders, to whom one of his age-grade must pay the deepest respect, would obey a young man of the warrior class was too fantastic for consideration. It was clear, however, that this stranger was an ignorant and stupid man who understood none of these things. Since, as the proverb said, the fool roasts bananas for others to eat, it might be that something profitable would emerge from all this talk of friendship and ruling.