“Indeed, and is this elephant always the same?”

“I cannot tell you, but for many generations it has been the same, for it is known by its size and by the fact that one of its tusks is twisted downwards.”

“Well,” I remarked, “all this proves nothing, since elephants certainly live for at least two hundred years, and perhaps much longer.  Also, after they become ‘rogues’ they acquire every kind of wicked and unnatural habit, as to which I could tell you lots of stories.  Have you seen this elephant?”

“No, Macumazana,” he answered with a shiver.  “If I had seen it should I have been alive to-day?  Yet I fear I am fated to see it ere long, not alone,” and again he shivered, looking at me in a very suggestive manner.

At this moment our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two Black Kendahs who brought us our breakfast of porridge and a boiled fowl, and stood there while we ate it.  For my part I was not sorry, as I had learned all I wanted to know of the theological opinions and practice of the land, and had come to the conclusion that the terrible devil-god of the Black Kendah was merely a rogue elephant of unusual size and ferocity, which under other circumstances it would have given me the greatest pleasure to try to shoot.

When we had finished eating, that is soon, for neither of our appetites was good that morning, we walked out of the house into the surrounding compound and visited the camelmen in their hut.  Here we found them squatted on the ground looking very depressed indeed.  When I asked them what was the matter they replied, “Nothing,” except that they were men about to die and life was pleasant.  Also they had wives and children whom they would never see again.

Having tried to cheer them up to the best of my ability, which I fear I did without conviction, for in my heart I agreed with their view of the case, we returned to the guest-house and mounted the stair which led to the flat roof.  Hence we saw that some curious ceremony was in progress in the centre of the market-place.  At that distance we could not make out the details, for I forgot to say that my glasses had been stolen with the pistol and knife, probably because they were supposed to be lethal weapons or instruments of magic.

A rough altar had been erected, on which a fire burned.  Behind it the king, Simba, was seated on a stool with various councillors about him.  In front of the altar was a stout wooden table, on which lay what looked like the body of a goat or a sheep.  A fantastically dressed man, assisted by other men, appeared to be engaged in inspecting the inside of this animal with, we gathered, unsatisfactory results, for presently he raised his arms and uttered a loud wail.  Then the creature’s viscera were removed from it and thrown upon the fire, while the rest of the carcass was carried off.

I asked Marut what he thought they were doing.  He replied dejectedly: