"That god, Baas, is an elephant" (here I started again), "a very bad
elephant to which human sacrifice is offered. I think, Baas, that it is
the devil wearing the shape of an elephant, at least that is what she
said. Now the sultan is a worshipper of the god that dwells in the
elephant Jana" (here I positively whistled) "and so are most of the
people, indeed all those among them who are black. For once far away
in the beginning the Kendah were two peoples, but the lighter-coloured
people who worshipped the Child came down from the north and conquered
the black people, bringing the Child with them, or so I understood her,
Baas, thousands and thousands of years ago when the world was young.
Since then they have flowed on side by side like two streams in the same
channel, never mixing, for each keeps its own colour. Only, she said,
that stream which comes from the north grows weaker and that from the
south more strong."

"Then why does not the strong swallow up the weak?"

"Because the weak are still the pure and the wise, Baas, or so the old
vrouw declared. Because they worship the good while the others worship
the devil, and as your father the Predikant used to say, Good is the
cock which always wins the fight at the last, Baas. Yes, when he seems
to be dead he gets up again and kicks the devil in the stomach and
stands on him and crows, Baas. Also these northern folk are mighty
magicians. Through their Child-fetish they give rain and fat seasons and
keep away sickness, whereas Jana gives only evil gifts that have to do
with cruelty and war and so forth. Lastly, the priests who rule through
the Child have the secrets of wealth and ancient knowledge, whereas the
sultan and his followers have only the might of the spear. This was the
song which the old woman sang to me, Baas."