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Brown nodded.
"Well, we are not going to try that," cried Mark. "Here, you go and fetch the two blacks. You are quite good friends now."
Brown nodded, hurried off, and returned in a few minutes with the pair he had sought, who came up with their eyes hard at work gazing searchingly from one to the other and looking as if they expected to be called to account for some misdoing.
"They think you are going to bully them, Mark," whispered Dean. "Tell them it is all right."
Mark, who was seated upon an ancient block of stone that had fallen from the wall, sprang to his feet so suddenly that the pigmy took flight on the instant, and Mak was following him, when Mark sprang to him and caught him by the arm.
"What are you going to do, stupid?" he cried. "I wasn't going to hit you. It's all right. Sit down. Here--_pious_--_cooey_!" he cried.
"_Pig, tchig, tchig, tchig, tchig_!" cried Dean; and the dwarf turned to glance back as he ran.
"Tell him it's all right, Mak. We want to talk to you," said Mark.
"There sit down, and he will come."
The big black hesitated a moment, and then slowly squatted.
"I say, Dean, a guilty conscience needs no accuser! Look at him in front. He's been having something since breakfast. Pig! Pig! Mak, call him."
The Ulaka looked doubtingly at the speaker, and then gave utterance to a low, soft call which made the pigmy cease running and stop as if in doubt. Mak called again, and the little fellow turned, to stand watching him, when Mak called once more and he came slowly back, Mark talking to him the while as if he were a little child that he wanted to encourage, and smiling as he held out his hand, in which after a little more hesitation and searching gazing in Mark's eyes, he laid his own.
What followed was for the main part in pantomime, first one and then another of the English party trying to make the Illaka understand what had happened and what was required of them, a good quarter of an hour being expended over this, with the black staring at them stolidly the whole time, till Mark gave up in disgust and disappointment.
"It's no use," he said. "They can't understand a word we have said, or make out one of our signs."
"Oh, I don't know, sir," said Buck.
"But he seems so stupid," cried Mark.
"That's his way, sir," said Dan. "He can do better than that. You a'n't seen so much of him as we have. What do you say, messmate Brown?"
"Not stupid, sir," said Brown drily; and he pointed to the pigmy, who had been crouching in the sand, nursing his bow, and slowly polishing the handle of his spear. "Pig Illaka," said the horse keeper; and he pointed at the little fellow, who looked up at him quickly and then began to polish his spear handle more energetically with a handful of very fine sand.
Mak uttered a low grunt, sprang up with flashing eyes, looked sharply round at the party, and then as if quite transformed, he sprang at the dwarf and gave him a quick light flip upon the shoulder with his open hand.
"I thought so, gentlemen. He's been sucking it in all along. Now then, you shall see what you shall see," said Buck.
The minute before the pigmy had squatted in front of them deliberately polishing his spear handle, but as if suddenly inspired by his big companion's burst of energy, he sprang up, strung his bow, placed the nock of an arrow upon the twisted sinew which held his weapon in a state of tension, and then bending forward he stood watching the movements of Mak, who stuck his spear into the earth, and then after fixing the pigmy with a fierce look, began to crawl slowly and cautiously in and out amongst the bushes as if trying to steal a march upon the camp.
He kept this up till he was quite hidden from the eyes of those who watched his movements, and then suddenly burst into sight again, maintaining his body bent nearly double as if intending to keep himself hidden from anyone at the camp, and ran swiftly back, to stop short, almost touching the two boys.
"Well," said Dean softly, "I don't see much in this."
"Wait a bit," whispered his cousin. "I think I do. There! See?"
And now it was as if the white party were non-existent and Mak were playing his part solely for the pigmy's amus.e.m.e.nt, for he stepped lightly up to him as if he were carrying something in his hands, which he was holding out for him to see. Then making believe to thump one end of it down and holding it with one hand, he began to dance round it, grinning with delight, stooping down from time to time to kiss it, and hug it to his breast, and ending by making belief to load it. Then dropping on one knee, he drew trigger, uttered a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n to simulate a report, and then crouching behind a block of stone he went through the loading movements again, advanced, retreated, advanced again, shading his eyes with one hand, and then dropped flat on his chest and crawled out of sight behind a heap of stones.
"Well, has he done?" said Dean, in a whisper.
Mark held up his hand, and directly after the black reappeared from quite another direction, raising himself slowly from behind another block of stone, resting an imaginary rifle upon the top, before taking aim again and firing, dropping out of sight, but only to reappear once more and repeat his tactics, after which he sprang up, waving the fancied weapon and went through what was meant for a dance of triumph over the death of an enemy.
This ended as it were one part of his performance, but it was only to be followed directly after by the careful handling and petting of the rifle, which he bore now in his arms to where the pigmy was still watching his every movement and looking more excited than the big black, as he leaned forward, his face full of animation and his eyes sparkling, while Mak seemed to be expatiating in silence upon all the merits of the wonderful weapon that he had secured.
He pointed here and pointed there, and then seemed to be laying it upon a stone and drawing back to admire it, stepping backward for some distance, approaching it again, patting it from end to end, and then going back to the pigmy, to touch him on the back and point at the top of the stone.
This done, he took hold of his little black companion's spear, stuck it up in the sand, smiling at it with contempt, and then toppled it over with a kick, before s.n.a.t.c.hing the pigmy's bow and arrow, pointing at them with his face screwed up in token of disgust, before throwing these with similar expressions of contempt to that with which he had treated the spear, some little distance away upon the ground.
Then he paused to rest his cheek upon his left hand and stood gazing with a ridiculous look of sublime satisfaction at the top of the stone with its suppositious rifle, towards which he advanced upon the tips of his toes, pretended to lift it off, and bore it once more to the pigmy, laid it before him and knelt down to begin talking to him in a low, smothered tone.
It was evident that the difference of their dialect was sufficient to make the pigmy reply from time to time with eager questions, which made his companion repeat himself with some show of annoyance, frowning angrily, till the pigmy nodded his head quickly, showing that he grasped his companion's meaning.
This lasted pretty well ten minutes, after which the pigmy picked up his weapons, Mak repossessed himself of his spear, and then turning to those who had been intently watching him all through, he gave them a heavy nod and then marched off without a word.
"Well, ought we to clap our hands?" said Mark.
"No, don't," said Dean. "Look there; Pig's going off too;" for the little fellow took a couple of steps towards him, nodded his head, and then followed Mak.
"I say, all of you, what does this mean--that Mak has been trying to show little Pig that the rifle has been stolen, and that he is going to try and find it and get it back?" said Mark.
"I don't know enough about these people to say, sir," replied Buck.
"Sometimes I seemed to make out that that was what it meant; at other times it looked as if he was only making a fool of himself, just capering about like a dancing doll in a show. What do you say, Dan?"
"Same as you do, messmate. I just got a bit here and there."
"That's right," said Brown, with one of his usual sighs. "He has been telling Pig, as you call him, that a rifle has been stolen, and that they have got to get it back."
"Do you feel sure he means that?" asked Mark.
"Quite," said Brown confidently, "and we shan't see them again till they have got it."
"Then you think they will get it?"
Brown shook his head, and was silent for a few moments.
"If they get it we shall see them again; if they don't, we shan't."
"Ashamed to show their faces eh, messmate?" asked Dan.
"No--the others too much for them."
"Then we may be sending them to their death. Here, I don't like this, Dean. I am sure father would rather that we lost the rifle. Here, let's call them back. Come on!"
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
A TERRIBLE SLIP.