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"That alone could have accomplished your mission properly. You might have known I would make you go back, too. Or perhaps you thought you could command your own men in spite of me?" "Perhaps," she said unexpectedly. He raised his voice: "Cazi Moto!" The chastened headman came running. "To-morrow," Kingozi told him, "the men go on half potio. There will be plenty of meat but only half potio."

There was plenty of game, the days passed pleasantly, the evenings were delightful. A moonbeam flashed in his brain showing him vistas He firmly shut the window! Certainly if Bibi-ya-chui harboured any active desire to drive Kingozi into leaving her to her own devices, she concealed it well. Occasionally in the evening, when he stared into the distance, she twisted herself to look at him.

Then, without comment, he glided out to reverse all his arrangements. Left alone Kingozi lay on his back and bent his will power to getting control of the situation. He was blind. At first the mere thought sent so numbing a chill through all his faculties that he needed the utmost of his fortitude to prevent an insensate and aimless panic. Gradually he gained control of this.

M'tela was a great lord, a lord of many spears, his hand was heavy, he took what he desired, his warriors were fierce and cruel and could not be gainsaid. Told under the breath, with furtive glances to right and to left. And not far: a three days' journey. Kingozi translated this into terms of safari travel and made it about eight days.

My head is in rather a whirl. It was Winkleman right along, was it?" She laughed excitedly. "Oh, such a game! Of course it was Winkleman. Did you think me one to be sent to savage kings?" "It didn't seem credible," muttered Kingozi. "It is a humiliating question, but seems inevitable were you actually sent out by your officials merely to delay me?" "So that Winkleman might arrive first surely."

She was certainly taking some chances hiking around thus in the dark. Perhaps some aged or weak lion had not been permitted a share of that rhinoceros. And again she was taking chances pushing out blindly with over a hundred men into the aridity of the desert. Kingozi contemplated this thought for some time. Then, making up his mind, he arose and began to dress.

The supposed savage experienced a growing excitement over the task he had undertaken. All his training had taught him to respect the white man, as such; and now he was called upon to abduct forcibly one of the sacred breed and such a specimen! Only Simba's undoubted force of character, and the veneration his long association with Kingozi had inculcated, sustained him.

"The form of their defence. They shoot between the logs of the palisade down the narrow lane. If they fought only with spears, the lane would be shorter, and it would be defended on the flank." "Why don't they defend it on the flank also, even with arrows?" asked the Leopard Woman shrewdly. "'It is not the custom," wearily quoted Kingozi in the vernacular. "Don't ask me why a savage does things.

"It is this: I would have the magic bone for my own. For it is a very great magic," he added wistfully. Kingozi choked back an impulse to shout aloud. "It is yours," he said gravely. "Oh, bwana! bwana!" choked Simba. "Assanti! assanti sana!" His sob was echoed at Kingozi's elbow. "Oh," cried the Leopard Woman, "I know I should be sorry that this has come this way! But I'm not; I am glad!"

And in that he voiced the philosophy of this human relation. The porters had done their job: not one inch beyond it would they go. The white woman had brought them here: it was now her shauri to get them out. "You see!" cried the Leopard Woman bitterly. "What can you do with such idiots!" Kingozi directed toward her his slow smile. "Yes, I see.