ing beginning get angry. He say white men not to
stay. They got what he promised, now they go. I know King--know this
people well! You get away quick. He think you want be King here! You got
the papers--all you want, eh?"

"Not quite, Sam," Trent answered. "There's an Englishman, Captain
Francis, on his way here up the Coast, going on to Walgetta Fort. He
must be here to-morrow. I want him to see the King's signature. If he's
a witness these niggers can never back out of the concession. They're
slippery devils. Another chap may come on with more rum and they'll
forget us and give him the right to work the mines too. See!"

"I see," Sam answered; "but him not safe to wait. You believe me. I
know these tam niggers. They take two days get drunk, then get devils,
four--raving mad. They drunk now. Kill any one to-morrow--perhaps you.
Kill you certain to-morrow night. You listen now!"

Trent stood up in the shadow of the overhanging roof. Every now and then
came a wild, shrill cry from the lower end of the village. Some one was
beating a frightful, cracked drum which they had got from a trader. The
tumult was certainly increasing. Trent swore softly, and then looked
irresolutely over his shoulder to where Monty was sleeping.

"If the worst comes we shall never get away quickly," he muttered. "That
old carcase can scarcely drag himself along."

Sam looked at him with cunning eyes.

"He not fit only die," he said softly. "He very old, very sick man, you
leave him here! I see to him."

Trent turned away in sick disgust.

"We'll be off to-morrow, Sam," he said shortly. "I say! I'm beastly
hungry. What's in that pot?"

Sam spread out the palms of his hands.

"He all right, I see him cooked," he declared. "He two rabbits and one
monkey."

Trent took out a plate and helped himself.

"All right," he said. "Be off now. We'll go to-morrow before these
towsly-headed beauties are awake."

Sam nodded and waddled off. Trent threw a biscuit and hit his companion
on the cheek.

"Here, wake up, Monty!" he exclaimed. "Supper's come from the royal
kitchen. Bring your plate and tuck in!"

Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly towards where the pot stood
simmering upon the ground.

"I'm not hungry, Trent," he said, "but I am very thirsty, very thirsty
indeed. My throat is all parched. I am most uncomfortable. Really
I think your behaviour with regard to the brandy is most unkind and
ungenerous; I shall be ill, I know I