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"Yet I have seen an army of the nation of which those 'devil-worshippers' are sprung, armed only with spears and shields, eat up a force three times as large as our own and infinitely better armed, I being one of the few who escaped. And 'The People of the Spider' cannot, from all accounts, be inferior to the stock whence they came." Lutali shrugs his shoulders again.
Our people are not satisfied, El Khanac, and they fear that ill may come of it." "A magnificent and comfortable hypocrisy that," said Laurence, in English. "Such combination of soul-saving and slave-selling is unique." Then, in Swahili, "But what do they want, Lutali?" "They want to set right the error of yesterday."
Those Wangoni brutes are never happy unless killing." "That is inevitable and is the law of life, which is always hard. And, as Lutali would say, who may fight against his destiny? Not that I mean to say we embarked in this business from motives of philanthropy, friend Holmes; I only cite the argument as one to quiet that singularly inconvenient conscience of yours.
"Lick the earth at the feet of the Great North Wind, whose blast kills!" But immediately Lutali staggered to his feet, and the hell blast of hate and fury which shone from his eyes was perfectly demoniacal. "There is but one God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God!" he roared. "Am I to prostrate myself before an infidel dog the chief dog of a pack of dogs? This for the scum!"
He had reckoned himself the sole survivor of the massacre. Yet now in this helpless and ill-treated prisoner he recognized no less a personage than Lutali. His body and limbs slashed with many spear-wounds his clothing cut to ribbons his half-starved and filthy aspect as he was hustled forward into the king's presence, the Arab would have looked a pitiable object enough but for one thing.
Lutali, in common with the rest, is in far too ugly a mood, after yesterday, to be fooled with needlessly. Besides, all that sentiment is simply thrown away. These people, remember, are atrocious brutes, who eat their own fathers and mothers. It is positively a work of charity to enslave them.
But Lutali shrugged his shoulders, and his hawk-like features scarce moved. Then he said: "Who may think to strive against the hand of Allah and that of his Prophet? Yon foul dogs, even they so great is the mercy of Allah even they might have been turned into good Moslemia, even as other such have been before them. Yet we we have left them to wallow in the mire of their cannibal abominations.
But if his words are few his deeds are many, and the name of Lutali which, however, he makes no secret is not his real name is known and feared at least as far and as thoroughly as that of the chief of the slavers himself. For the latter, one glance at him is sufficient to show that if ever man was born to rule with firm but judicious hand such a gang of bloodthirsty freebooters it is this one.
But now, with a deafening, vibrating roar the Ba-gcatya, massing suddenly, hurl fully one-half of their force upon the point directed by Lutali. They surge up the slope in one dense charge of lightning swiftness. Bullets are hailed upon them. They waver not.
But in Hazon's piercing eyes there was a glow in which the lust of combat, despair of success, and the most indomitable resolve were about equally intermingled. The countenance of Lutali betrayed no change whatever. The bulk of the slave-hunters were scowling and eager; but the miserable slaves, realizing that massacre awaited them, were moaning and trembling with fear.
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