'Because you are our friend,' replied The Kid; 'I believed that you would help me.'
'How can I help you? I know nothing about your friend.'
'You can send men with me to the village of Gato Mgungu,' replied The Kid, 'while I demand the release of the old bwana.'
'What will you pay me?' asked Bobolo.
'I can pay you nothing now. When we get ivory I will pay.'
Bobolo sneered. 'I have no men to send with you,' he said. 'You come to a great chief and bring no presents; you ask him to give you warriors and you have nothing to pay for them.'
The Kid lost his temper. 'You lousy old scoundrel!' he exclaimed. 'You can't talk that way to me and get away with it. I'll give you until tomorrow morning to come to your senses.' He turned on his heel and walked down the village street, followed by his five retainers; then he heard Bobolo yelling excitedly to his men to seize him. Instantly the youth realized the predicament in which his hot temper had placed him. He thought quickly, and before the warriors had an opportunity to arrest him he turned back toward Bobolo's hut.
'And another thing,' he said as he stood again before the chief; 'I have already dispatched a messenger down river to the station telling them about this affair and my suspicions. I told them that I would be here waiting for them when they came with soldiers. If you are thinking of harming me, Bobolo, be sure that you have a good story ready, for I told them that I was particularly suspicious of you.'
He waited for no reply, but turned again and walked toward the village gate, nor was any hand raised to stay him. He grinned to himself as he passed out of the village, for he had sent no messenger, and no soldiers were coming.
As a gesture of contempt for the threats of Bobolo, The Kid made camp close to the village; but his men were not a little perturbed. Some of the villagers came out with food, and from his almost exhausted stores the white extracted enough cloth to purchase a day's rations for himself and his men. Among his callers was a girl whom he had known for some time. She was a happy, good-natured creature; and The Kid had found amusement in talking to her. In the past he had given her little presents, which pleased her simple heart, as did the extravagant compliments that The Kid amused himself by paying her.
Bring a girl presents often and tell her that she is the most beautiful girl in the village, and you may be laying the foundation for something unpleasant in the future. You may be joking, but the girl may be in earnest. This one was. That she had fallen in love with The Kid should have worked to his detriment as a punishment for his thoughtlessness, but it did not.
At dusk the girl returned, sneaking stealthily through the shadows. The Kid was startled by her abrupt appearance before his tent, where he sat smoking.
'Hello there, Nsenene!' he exclaimed. 'What brings you here?' He was suddenly impressed by the usually grave demeanor of the girl and her evident excitement.
'Hush!' cautioned the girl. 'Do not speak my name. They would kill me if they knew I had come here.'
'What's wrong?'
'Much is wrong. Bobolo is going to send men with you tomorrow. He will tell you that they are going to the village of Gato Mgungu with you, but they will not. When they get you out in the river, out of sight of the village, they will kill you and all your men and throw you to the crocodiles. Then when the white men come, they will tell them that they left you at the village of Gato Mgungu; and the white men will go and they will find no village, because it has been burned by the Utengas. There will be no one there to tell them that Bobolo lied.'
'Gato Mgungu's village burned! What became of the old bwana?'
'I know nothing about him, but he is not at the village of Gato Mgungu, because there is no village there. I think he is dead. I heard it said that the Leopard Men killed him. Bobolo is afraid of the Leopard Men because he stole their white priestess from them.'
'White priestess! What do you mean?' demanded The Kid.
'They had a white priestess. I saw her here when Bobolo brought her to be his wife, but Ubooga would not have her around and made Bobolo send her away. She was a white woman, very white, with hair the color of the moon.'
'When was this?' demanded the astonished youth.
'Three days ago, maybe four days. I do not remember.'
'Where is she now? I should like to see her.'
'You will never see her,' replied Nsenene; 'no one will ever see her.'
'Why not?'
'Because they sent her to the village of the little men.'
'You mean the Betetes?'
'Yes, the Betetes. They are eaters of men.'
'Where is their village?' asked The Kid.
'You want to go there and get the white woman?' demanded Nsenene suspiciously.
There was something in the way the girl asked the question that gave The Kid his first intimation that her interest was prompted by more than friendship for him, for there was an unquestionable tinge of jealous suspicion in her tone. He leaned forward with a finger on his lips. 'Don't tell anybody, Nsenene,' he cautioned in a whisper; 'but the white woman is my sister. I must go to her rescue. Now tell me where the village is, and next time I come I'll bring you a fine present.' If he had felt any compunction about lying to the girl, which he did not, he could easily have salved his conscience with the knowledge that he had done it in a good cause; for if there was any truth in the story of the white priestess, captive of the Betetes, then there was but one course of procedure possible for him, the only white man in the district who had knowledge of her predicament. He had thought of saying that the woman was his mother or daughter, but had compromised on sister as appearing more reasonable.
'Your sister!' exclaimed Nsenene. 'Yes, now that I remember, she looked like you. Her eyes and her nose were like yours.'
The Kid suppressed a smile. Suggestion and imagination were potent powers. 'We do look alike,' he admitted; 'but tell me, where is the village?'
As well as she could Nsenene described the location of the village of Rebega. 'I will go with you, if you will take me,' she suggested. 'I do not wish to stay here any longer. My father is going to sell me to an old man whom I do not like. I will go with you and cook for you. I will cook for you until I die.'
'I cannot take you now,' replied The Kid. 'Maybe some other time, but this time there may be fighting.'
'Some other time then,' said the girl. 'Now I must go back to the village before they close the gates.'
At the first break to dawn The Kid set out in search of the village of Rebega. He told his men that he had given up the idea of going to the village of Gato Mgungu, but that while they were here he was going to look for ivory on this side of the river. If he had told them the truth, they would not have accompanied him.
Chapter 22. In the Crucible of Danger
FOR a long time Old Timer and the girl walked on in silence. There were no more interchanges of friendly conversation. The atmosphere was frigid. Kali Bwana walked a little behind the man. Often her eyes were upon him. She was thinking seriously, but what her thoughts were she did not reveal.
When they came to a pleasant open stretch through which a small stream wound, Old Timer stopped beneath a great tree that grew upon the bank of the stream. 'We shall remain here for a while,' he said.
The girl made no comment, and he did not look at her but started at once to make camp. First he gathered dead branches of suitable size, for a shelter, cutting a few green ones to give it greater strength. These he formed into a frame-work resembling that of an Indian wicki-up, covering the whole with leafy branches and grasses.
While he worked, the girl assisted him, following his example without asking for directions. Thus they worked in silence. When the shelter was finished he gathered wood for a fire. In this work she helped him, too.
'We shall be on short rations,' he said, 'until I can make a bow and some arrows.'
This elicited no response from the girl; and he went his way, searching for suitable material for his weapon. He never went far, never out of sight of the camp; and presently he was back again with the best that he could find. With his knife he shaped a bow, rough but practical; and then he strung it with the pliable stem of a slender creeper
