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Updated: June 24, 2025
Bring them here." The messengers were produced. "What is it you tell that my men beat you for telling lies? They must be bad lies, for it is not the custom of men to beat men for telling lies." "We tell no lies, bwana" said one of the messengers earnestly. "We tell the truth." "What is it you tell?"
They were cooking, but at the same time the two whom Winkleman recognized as leaders conferred earnestly and at great length. Had he been at their elbows he would have heard the following: "The magic of this bone is a very great magic," Simba was saying. "All happened exactly as Bwana Kingozi told us. Now is the fifth day.
Well, good luck. Cazi Moto, take Mali-ya-bwana and two askari guns, and go with Bwana Nyele to the palace of M'tela." Scarcely had the group disappeared down the forest path when Kingozi was at the tent door of the Leopard Woman. "Hodie?" he pronounced the native word of one desiring entrance. "Who is there?" she asked in Swahili. "I Culbertson." A slight pause; then her voice: "Come."
"Suh!" "Bring here the magic bone. The bwana wishes to look at it. No; it is all right. I myself tell you; no harm can come." Reluctantly Simba produced the bone, now fittingly wrapped in clean mericani cloth, and still more reluctantly undid it and handed it to Winkleman. The latter seized it and began minutely to examine it, muttering short, disconnected sentences to himself in German.
"I am pleased with you. For this work you shall have much backsheeshi a month's wages extra, and twenty goats for your farm, and any other thing that you want most. What is it?" Simba appeared to hesitate and boggle. "Speak up! I am Very pleased." "This is a very great thing I would ask," said Simba in a low voice. "It is a great thing you have done." "Bwana," cried Simba earnestly.
"We could not find Korak," replied the man, "and as our way led near my douar I have brought you here to wait and rest with my wife until my men can find your ape, or he finds you. It is better thus, little one. You will be safer with us, and you will be happier." "I am afraid, Bwana," said the girl. "In thy douar they will beat me as did The Sheik, my father. Let me go back into the jungle.
They came to a halt, raised their spears horizontally above their heads; the horns and drums redoubled their din; a mighty, concerted shout rent the air. Then abruptly fell dead silence. From the front rank a tall, impressive savage stepped forward, pacing with dignified stride. He walked directly to Kingozi's chair. "Jambo, bwana!"
Meriem was looking full into his face as she fought for freedom when there came over her a sudden recollection of a similar scene in which she had been a participant and with it full recognition of her assailant. He was the Swede Malbihn who had attacked her once before, who had shot his companion who would have saved her, and from whom she had been rescued by Bwana.
While the white man was divesting himself of his accoutrements, Cazi Moto entered bearing a galvanized pail full of hot water which he poured into the tub. He disappeared only to return with a pail of cold water to temper the first. "Bath is ready, bwana," said he, and retired, carefully tying the tent flaps behind him. Fifteen minutes later Kingozi emerged.
Bwana shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed out toward the oncoming rider. He was puzzled. Strangers were few in Central Africa. Even the blacks for a distance of many miles in every direction were well known to him. No white man came within a hundred miles that word of his coming did not reach Bwana long before the stranger.
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