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Simba, get me the hand irons and the leg irons. Guard this man. To-morrow we will look into it." He turned away without waiting to see his commands carried out. "I've got a beastly headache," he remarked to Bibi-ya-chui. "This affair this whole affair will keep. Cazi Moto, I want two men with guns my men to stand by my tent, one in front, one in the rear."
And, parenthetically, from that moment Bibi-ya-chui the Leopard Woman was the name by which she was known among the children of the sun. She did not greet him in any way, but turned her head to address commands. "Bring a chair for the bwana; bring cigarettes; bring balauri lime juice " Kingozi found himself established comfortably.
Kingozi faced it bravely; but such a fact requires adjustment, and in these hours of waiting the adjustments were being made. Only once or twice did Bibi-ya-chui utter the thoughts that continually possessed her. "It seems so foolish!" she complained to him. "You are making yourself blind for always; and you are going to be a prisoner for long!
As a matter of fact, Kingozi knew that he had done everything possible. If Simba & Co. succeeded, then there was no immediate hurry; if they failed, hurry would be useless. Bibi-ya-chui noticed the absence of two such prominent members of the safari as Simba and Mali-ya-bwana, of course, but readily accepted Kingozi's explanation that he had sent them "as messengers."
"But this man is an artist!" murmured Bibi-ya-chui. "He understands effect! This is stage managed!" The sultani approached without haste. He stopped squarely before Kingozi's chair. The latter did not rise. The two men stared into each other's eyes for a full minute, without embarrassment, without contest, without defiance. Then the black man spoke. "Jambo, bwana," he rumbled in a deep voice.
"The Bwana M'Kubwa , bwana." "Have they no message?" "They say no message, bwana." "Take them and give them food, and see that they have a place in one of the tents." "Yes, bwana." "And send Bibi-ya-chui to me." The Leopard Woman sent word that she was bathing, but would come shortly. Kingozi sat fingering the letter, which he could not read. It was long and thick.
He wore a number of anklets and armlets of polished wire, a broad beaded collar, heavy earrings, and a sumptuous robe of softened goatskins embroidered with beads and cowrie shells. As he strode his anklets clashed softly. His girt was free, and he walked with authority. Altogether an impressive figure. "The sultani is a fine-looking man," observed Bibi-ya-chui. "I suppose the others are slaves."
"What!" exclaimed Kingozi sharply. "Why did you not start men for them when you first awakened?" She smiled at him ruefully. "I tried. But they said they were very tired from yesterday. They would not go." "Simba!" called Kingozi. "Suh!" "Bring the headman of Bibi-ya-chui. Is he that mop-headed blighter?" he asked her. "Who? Oh, the Nubian, Chake. No; he is just a faithful creature near myself.
In one of these bottles is the medicine that will cure me, and in one of them is the medicine that will make me blind forever. I do not know which it is; and I cannot read the barua because I cannot see it. And Bibi-ya-chui cannot read it. So you must be my eyes. Take a stick, and make on the ground marks exactly like those on the barua. Make them deep, so that I may feel them with my hands."
She did not resist, but stood looking down at him waiting. He struggled for an appearance of calm. "Who are you?" he asked unsteadily. "You have never told me." "You have named me Bibi-ya-chui the Woman of the Leopards." She was smiling faintly, looking down at him through half-closed eyes. "But who are you? You are not English." "My name: you have given it. Let that suffice. Me I am Hungarian."
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