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"I will see to it, Ngonyama;" and Muata went down with his band to the village once again, chanting the deep-chested song of victory. The jackal, who had accompanied Muata on the new trail, remained with his white friends. He was thin, he was famished, and he sat with his left front paw lifted.
I should not like to know of it myself, for the things you have would make one of us rich." With a little packet of food, his Ghoorka knife, and his jackal, Muata entered the dug-out, and landed again on the clearing. They waved their hands to him, and then turned their attention to the old Arab, who was sipping a cup of coffee with every sign of satisfaction.
Then the headmen took counsel, and again put the chief's wife off. "The chief's wife bowed her head, but, seeing that she was weak, and that her mind was fixed on the thing she asked for, Muata took the matter into his own hand.
We thought you would have worked in well with us; but I see you are a man of a crooked mind." "Softly, my father," said the chief, quietly. "Is it wise that a chief should listen to the counsel of strangers without taking thought for his people?" "We saved the chief's life." "The chiefs life is his own" Muata snapped his fingers "but the secret of the hiding-place is the life of the people.
Venning reached for his glasses, and far back over the shining lake he saw little black specks emerging, as it were, out of the forest. "Canoes," he said; "a great many." If they did not find the outlet soon they would be sighted. Muata and his mother spoke a few words rapidly, and then he signalled to the crew to enter the reeds.
Muata, the black one, hangs on their trail, and when the time has come he will spring. Wow! They are fools to come up by that path." He went back deep in thought, and made up his mind to see the wise woman again. So he passed down into the valley, crossed the river to the new village built on a small flat-topped hill, and found the chief's mother sitting before his hut.
"If we had only brought an air-gun for I suppose we cannot fire." "Look at those fat geese in a row," said Compton. "What a stew they would make. Just one shot, sir." "It won't do," said Mr. Hume. "A single shot would raise noise enough to wake the seven sleepers." "There is another way," said Muata. "What way?" "A line such as you used for fish see."
The entire population was kept hard at it for a week, and when the work was done, there was a grand ceremony over the wedding of Muata; and then one morning they awoke to find a low grey canopy drawn over the valley, from which fell a steady drizzle of rain.
He ceased from pulling, and, after a despairing look, crouched down. "We will talk," said Muata, courteously, poising the paddle in his hand. "How is your venerable mother?" "She has a wonderful dish of fish and manioc for her son's guests. You will do her the favour to eat of that dish," said the stranger, humbly. "And is your venerable mother's kraal up the river?"
Hume rolled back his sleeves, and there were red marks from wrist to shoulder. "And that was done only by the scouts on the tree I attempted to climb. Muata says they have put whole villages to flight." "Eweh," said the chief, "and even the elephant will turn from their path, else would they get into his ears, his trunk, and to the soft parts between his legs, biting each a little piece of skin.
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