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Kingozi knew that the bird would thus continue all night long, and he tried to adjust his mind to the fact, but failed. It seemed beyond human comprehension that any living creature could keep up steadily so breathless a performance. Some of the men were chatting in low voices. Ordinarily he would not have heard them at all; now they annoyed him.
This was a great satisfaction to Kingozi, though none knew better than he how any chance gust of influence or passion could veer the wind. Still it was something to start on; and something more or less unexpected and unhoped for. M'tela himself supplied the reason in the course of one of their interminable conversations. "I am pleased to see the white man," he said.
One makes a transverse incision above the cornea " "I know, I know," interrupted Kingozi. "But the pilocarpin will give me my sight. Let us get at it." Three hours later Kingozi stepped into the open, his vision cleared. Such is often the marvellous though temporary effect of the proper remedies in this disease.
Mali-ya-bwana and the other fourteen of Kingozi's safari who were now present brought their loads up and began to pile them under Kingozi's direction. "Quickly!" called Kingozi in brisk, cheerful tones. "The water is not far, but the day is nearly gone. We must march quickly, even without loads." The import of the command began to reach the other porters.
The men spoke rarely, and then in low voices. Kingozi led the way steadily, without hurrying, but without loitering. Daylight came: the sun blazed. The country remained the same in character. Behind them the kopje dwindled in importance until it took its place with insignificant landmarks. The mountains ahead seemed no nearer.
"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.
Winkleman produced the saurian bone. And for the first time Kingozi noticed Simba hovering anxiously near. Request and blandishments had proved of no avail in getting the magic bone from Bwana Nyele. "It is all right," Kingozi reassured him. "We but use the magic for a little while. See; it has given me back my eyes." "A-a-a-a!" ejaculated Simba, deeply astonished.
"Oho!" he cried in his great voice when he had drawn near. "This is not so bad! It is Culbertson!" "I am sorry about this," said Kingozi briefly "a man of your eminence very disagreeable." Winkleman dropped heavily to the ground. "That is nothing," he waved aside the half-apology, "though it would not be bad to have the bath and change these clothes.
From the folds of her silken robe she produced a small automatic pistol which she displayed. Kingozi glanced at it indifferently. "In that case you would have to kill yourself, too; and then it would not matter to either of us." "I find you insufferable!" she cried, getting to her feet. She moved away in the direction of her camp. The faithful Nubian folded her chair and followed.
"How long will it take? I want to get on. This does not interest me. I have seen many natives." Kingozi smiled. "Two days of visit. Then perhaps a week to get potio and guides." "Impossible! I could not endure it!" "I am afraid you will have to. I know the untamed savage. He is inclined to be friendly, always. If you hurry the process, you must fight. That's the trouble with a big mob like yours.
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