all, as he admitted with
a smile, zu Pfeiffer's system of native psychology had been based on the
same fundamental principles as his own except that he had not reckoned
with the unknown quantity, the equal intelligence working against him and
able to discount his moves, plus heavier artillery in the form of an
emotional broadside, the possibility of which rather naturally had never
occurred to him.

An item which worried Birnier was that he had no means, and could hope for
none apparently, of discovering whether and to what extent his orders
through the phonograph had been carried out regarding the treatment of the
white men. Their fate at the hands of the Wongolo, particularly after the
merciless massacres inflicted by zu Pfeiffer, would scarcely bear
imagining. From the fact of the instant and apparently easy success of the
assault on the forts, he did not doubt that zu Pfeiffer, who had been
foolish enough to be lured into dividing his forces, was doomed to defeat.
In this instance he would not have any of the advantages of his triumphal
entry into the country; would not be able to accomplish a surprise attack,
and the weakening of the native moral by massacre and the downfall of the
idol; in fact he had these very forces against him: for the success of
their first venture, their overwhelming numbers in the forest, the
exaltation of fanaticism excited by the restoration of their tribal god,
practically tacked a label of suicide upon his military actions.

During that day Bakahenzie, evidently too busy with the duties of his
office, did not come near to him. But that evening, in order to ensure as
far as possible obedience to his orders through the mouth of the oracle,
Birnier caused Mungongo to chant further instructions into the phonograph
commanding that the Son-of-the-Earthquake was to be brought alive to
receive judgment from the Unmentionable One through the Incarnation, the
son of the Lord-of-many-Lands. Whether this would work or not Birnier of
course could not know. Already had he discovered that nobody could control
the complicated machinery of the native tabu any more than any one
statesman could manage always any vast political machine; indeed he, as
many others, might more than conceivably be ground up by the gargantuan
engine with whose starting lever he had played. All he could do had been
done; nothing remained but to adopt Marufa's favourite maxim: "wait and
see."

In the evening Mungongo, who had