In Search of the Okapi Part 10

"There is a price on his bead."

"Offered by the slave-hunters?"

The shot went home. The officers had been hand in glove with the lawless traders, but they did not want the matter bruited about by meddlesome Englishmen. They scowled.

"He has broken the peace," said the senior, sharply; "he has slain the servants of the State. Am I to understand that you claim to be his master, responsible for his conduct?"

"No, m'sieur," exclaimed the hunter, quickly, fearing he had gone too far, and shifting his ground. "The man is a stranger; do with him as you please; but as for us, since we are here, we will, with your permission, make the place our headquarters. We could not be in better hands."

"You wish to wait for another steamer while your pa.s.sports are visaed?"

"We will proceed in our own boat, which we would put together."

"Ah, you have a little boat?"

"A very small boat, m'sieur, with barely room for four men. We should be honoured to have your opinion on its qualities, and also upon our stores and their suitability."

Venning looked at Mr. Hume with puzzled eyes. He could not understand his callous abandonment of Muata.

"But," he began, "we cannot----"

"I think it is an excellent place," said Compton, quickly; "and perhaps these gentlemen would be good enough to a.s.sist us with advice out of their great experience."

"We should be delighted," said Mr. Hume, politely.

The senior officer stroked his huge moustache with an air of renewed importance.

"There are two spare rooms in my little house," murmured the junior-- "one for the stores, the other for sleeping quarters."

"It is understood," said Mr. Hume, "that we pay rent, and also that we pay for the protection you may afford us. I insist on that, messieurs."

The senior nodded a dignified a.s.sent, but he was not quite won over, and retired to his quarters, while his junior inspected the landing of the goods, including the sections of the boat. In the afternoon, however, after his nap, the senior succ.u.mbed to the influence of a good cigar, and condescended to sample some of the stores. He was even pleased to crack a few jokes over the novel machinery for working the screw of the Okapi by levers, and in the evening he invited Mr. Hume to a friendly game of cards, thoughtfully including in his invitation a bottle of brandy and a box of cigars, for, said he, he wished to wash out the execrable taste of the everlasting manioc.

All the day Muata stood bound to a post in the square, the central figure of a ring of squatting natives, who chewed manioc and discussed his approaching fate with much satisfaction.

He was there, an erect, stoical figure, when the boys sought their room in the little thatched house--a room bare of furniture, divided from the next compartment by hanging mats of native make.

"It's a beastly shame," said Venning, for about the fourth time, as he stared out at the black faces reflected in the blazing log-fires.

"What is a shame?" asked Compton, who was inspecting the part.i.tion before seeking his hammock.

"You know well enough. Not a soul stands by the chief; even his jackal bolted as soon as he jumped ash.o.r.e."

"Because Muata ordered him. He is probably watching from the dark."

"All the worse for us, then. I never thought Mr. Hume would have knuckled down so easily. Hark at him shouting over the game."

"What is the game, do you think?"

"Cards," snorted Venning, in disgust.

"So! Queer sort of part.i.tion this;" and Compton moved the mat aside.

"No need for doors, you see. Hulloa! Who are you?"

"Me Zanzibar boy, master," exclaimed a soft, oily voice.

"Then clear out."

"Me put here watch my master--see black fellows no steal."

"Oh, I see. Chuck a cake of tobacco, Venning. Here! You like that?"

"Ver good," said the boy, reaching out a yellow hand for the tobacco.

Venning crossed over and peered into the other room. "You boy," he said, "tell me, what will they do to Muata?"

The Zanzibari chuckled. "You want know, eh?"

"We don't care. One black fellow does not matter," said Compton, coolly.

"You brute!" muttered Venning, but stopped as Compton's hand gripped him.

The Zanzibari chuckled again. "What you give, eh, if cut loose that Muata?"

"What do you say?"

"You pay me? Good. In night Muata is loose. He run up river. Bymby master go along in little boat, pick Muata up, eh? What you pay?"

and the boy chuckled softly.

"Suppose I tell your white master, you rascal?"

"Wow! You tell, they kill poor Zanzibar boy."

"Then clear out," said Compton, launching a kick; "and if I see any more of you I will tell."

The boy turned sulky. "Me guard--me stay."

"You go," said Compton, "or I will call your masters, and let them deal with you."

Growling under his breath, the self-styled "guard" slunk soft-footed out of the room. Compton struck a match and looked around the apartment, then turned to Venning with a grin.

"That is the game," he whispered.

"I think I understand," Venning replied softly. "That fellow was testing you?"

Compton nodded.

"And you think Mr. Hume has not forgotten Muata?"