Black Canaan | Page 8

night
when Saul Stark beats the ju-ju drum and shrieks the black incantation
to the gods that crawl on their bellies in the swamp."
"What is he doing here? The black folk were quiet until he came."
Her red lips curled disdainfully. "Those black dogs? They are his slaves.
If they disobey he kills them, or puts them in the swamp. For long we
have looked for a place to begin our rule. We have chosen Canaan. You
whites must go. And since we know that white people can never be
driven away from their land, we must kill you all."
It was my turn to laugh, grimly.
"They tried that, back in '05."
"They did not have Saul Stark to lead them, then," she answered
calmly.
"Well, suppose they won? Do you think that would be the end of it?
Other white men would come into Canaan and kill them all."
"They would have to cross water," she answered. "We can defend the
rivers and creeks. Saul Stark will have many servants in the swamps to
do his bidding. He will be king of black Canaan. No one can cross the
waters to come against him. He will rule his tribe, as his fathers ruled
their tribes in the Ancient Land."
"Mad as a loon!" I muttered. Then curiosity impelled me to ask: "Who
is this fool? What are you to him?"

"He is the son of a Kongo witch-finder, and he is the greatest voodoo
priest out of the Ancient Land," she answered, laughing at me again. "I?
You shall leant who I am, tonight in the swamp, in the House of
Damballah."
"Yes?" I grunted. "What's to prevent me from taking you into
Grimesville with me? You know the answers to questions I'd like to
ask."
Her laughter was like the slash of a velvet whip.
"You drag me to the village of the whites? Not all death and hell could
keep me from the Dance of the Skull, tonight in the House of
Damballah. You are my captive, already." She laughed derisively as I
started and glared into the shadows about me. "No one is hiding there. I
am alone, and you are the strongest man in Canaan. Even Saul Stark
fears you, for he sent me with three men to kill you before you could
reach the village. Yet you are my captive. I have but to beckon,
so"--she crooked a contemptuous finger--"and you will follow to the
fires of Damballah and the knives of the torturers."
I laughed at her, but my mirth rang hollow. I could not deny the
incredible magnetism of this brown enchantress; it fascinated and
impelled, drawing me toward her, beating at my will power. I could not
fail to recognize it any more than I could fail to recognize the peril in
the ju-ju hut.
My agitation was apparent to her, for her eyes flashed with unholy
triumph.
"Black men are fools, all but Saul Stark," she laughed. "White men are
fools, too. I am the daughter of a white man, who lived in the but of a
black king and mated with his daughters. I know the strength of white
men, and their weakness. I failed last night when I met you in the
woods, but now I cannot fail!" Savage exultation thrummed in her
voice. "By the blood in your veins I have snared you. The knife of the
man you killed scratched your handseven drops of blood that fell on the
pine needles have given me your soul! I took that blood, and Saul Stark

gave me the man who ran away. Saul Stark hates cowards. With his hot,
quivering heart, and seven drops of your blood, Kirby Buckner, deep in
the swamps I have made such magic as none but the Bride of
Damballah can make. Already you feel its urge! Oh, you are strong!
The man you fought with the knife died less than an hour later. But you
cannot fight me. Your blood makes you my slave. I have put a
conjurment upon you."
By heaven, it was not mere madness she was mouthing! Hypnotism,
magic, call it what you will, I felt its onslaught on my brain and will-a
blind, senseless impulse that seemed to be rushing me against my will
to the brink of some nameless abyss.
"I have made a charm you cannot resist!" she cried. "When I call you,
you will come! Into the deep swamps you will follow me. You will see
the Dance of the Skull and you will see the doom of a poor fool who
sought to betray Saul Stark-who dreamed he could resist the Call of
Damballah when it came. Into the swamp he goes tonight, with Tunk
Bixby and the other four fools who opposed