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He continued this and similar performances for so long a time that we were getting weary of witnessing them, when suddenly a person rose from a couch at the further end of the room, whom we rightly supposed to be King Quagomolo. "Sit down, your majesty, sit down," exclaimed the doctor. "I'll soon say what's the matter with you." The king obeyed.
This answer was anything but satisfactory. We had accordingly, as before, to shrug our shoulders and submit for the present, not intending, however, much longer to comply with the fancies of the sable monarch. Day after day passed by, and still King Quagomolo made some excuse for not allowing us to proceed on our journey.
King Quagomolo, as he calls himself, is evidently afraid of him, or he would not have given me and our traps up so easily." "We, however, must try and get away," observed Harry; "we may be jolly enough, as Charley says, just now, but we shall soon get weary of the life."
"Me tinkee king no trust him," answered Aboh. "What! not trust an officer in the navy, and two other English gentlemen," exclaimed Charley indignantly. "Tell him then, that one of us will remain with him, while the other two, with a sufficient guard, go back, and say that we will return as soon as possible." "But 'spose King Quagomolo no let go," suggested Aboh.
The principal person of the crowd was a savage-looking fellow, about as ugly as King Quagomolo, and dressed much in the same fashion. His majesty, although so ugly, did not appear to have any evil intentions regarding us, but was evidently satisfied at having got us into his power.
The old grandfather tumbled not under the table, but at full length on the ground; King Sanga Tanga cried out that it was time to commence dancing, and he himself starting up, set the example, and the crowd forming a circle, he performed a series of eccentric evolutions, similar to those exhibited on a previous occasion by his brother monarch King Quagomolo; when at last, overcome by his exertions, he sank down on the ground close to the royal portion of the circle, the bride and bridegroom springing up went through a like performance.
Before lying down to sleep, we consulted Aboh on the subject. "Berry bad, berry bad," he answered, shaking his head, which he always did when he found a knotty point difficult to unravel. "Me say de King Sanga Tanga me go get odder white man and him goods. Suppose let me go, what say King Quagomolo? when him come, cut off him head me tinkee."
We feared that King Quagomolo was not likely to set him at liberty, nor was it probable that he would deliver up our knapsacks, even should we send for them, for though he had hitherto behaved honestly towards us, we could scarcely expect that he would withstand the temptation of appropriating their contents under the uncertainty of our fate.
It was six or seven years old, and, being in a healthy condition, by the evening appeared no worse. At the end of three days, as lock-jaw had not set in, and the wounds looked healthy, we assured the king of our belief that his son would in time get well. Quagomolo and his wife both appeared very grateful.
As far as I could judge, no vital part had been touched, and I told Aboh to say to the mother, that if she would let us doctor it we would do so, as I had hopes of its recovery. Having washed it then and there in cold water, we stopped the blood, bound up the wounds, and gave it to the mother to carry back. Quagomolo was, we found, especially fond of the child.
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