Suddenly, amid a furious clamour of the drums, Bakahenzie, Marufa, and one other of the inner cult of the five who had not deserted, led the body of the doctors in a rush into the sacred enclosure, seized upon the startled King and hustled him to the base of the idol where, yielding to the whispered instructions of Marufa, he took the idol once more upon his shoulders and guided by Bakahenzie, walked out of the gate and through the village to the yelling and screaming of the wizards, some of whom, according to precedent, ran about screeching and rattling hut doors, pulling thatches and howling ferociously in search of any sacrilegious peeper.
As he tramped on with his load Marufa yelled in his ear that he must carry the Burden of the World no matter what happened to him, for if he let the idol fall then would he be killed upon the spot to save the sky from falling too. Wondering what this meant and where he was going, the cut of thongs upon his legs surprised him into a halt. Immediately a terrific cry went up:
“The Bearer of the World stumbles! Aie! Aieeeeeeeee!”
Despite the furious flogging the intellectual interest in this strange conception distracted his mind from the pain of the blows; also his bare back was protected by the idol and his leggings and trousers deadened the lashes. A moment more he hesitated. But he was unarmed and had voluntarily taken on the adventure, so he would see it through. As he broke into a shuffling run, for the idol fortunately was lighter than the previous one and he was a more powerful man than Kawa Kendi, another howl of joy and relief echoed throughout the village.
So along the old forest trail he travelled as fast as he could, assisted slightly by wizards’ hands as he crawled over clumps of undergrowth. The intensity of the whipping had decreased as soon as they were out of the village but throughout an occasional vicious whack testified to the presence of some devout doctor. Thus it was that the white King-God came to his throne and sat in state upon his bed to smile at the reflections of a melancholic philosopher.
So far so good, reflected Birnier, although the enforced isolation and strict curtailment of his actions had already begun to be irksome; yet to attain so difficult a goal sacrifice must be borne, he argued philosophically.