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aim, and after two trial strokes he brought the nobbly end round with a "swish!" A bottle of square-face smashed into a thousand pieces, and there arose on the hot air the sickly scent of crude spirits. Fascinated, silent, motionless, King Karata, named not without reason "The Terrible," watched the destruction as bottle followed bottle. Then as a dim realization of the infamy filtered through his thick brain, he rose with a growl like a savage animal, and Bones turned quickly. But Bosambo was quicker. One stride brought him to the king's side. "Down, dog!" he said. "O Karata, you are very near the painted hut where dead kings lie." The king sank back and glared to and fro. All that was animal in him told of his danger; he smelt death in the mirthless grin of the white man; he smelt it as strongly under the hand of the tall native wearing the monkey-tails of chieftainship. If they would only stand away from him they would die quickly enough. Let them get out of reach, and a shout, an order, would send them bloodily to the ground with little kicks and twitches as the life ran out of them. But they stood too close, and that order of his meant his death. "O white man," he began. "Listen, black man," said Bosambo, and lapsed into his English; "hark um, you dam' black nigger--what for you speak um so?" "You shall say 'master' to me, Karata," said Bones easily, "for in my land 'white man' is evil talk."[8] [Footnote 8: In most native countries "white man" is seldom employed save as a piece of insolence. It is equivalent to the practice of referring to the natives as niggers.] "Master," said the king sullenly, "this is a strange thing--for I see that you are English and we be servants of another king. Also it is forbidden that any white--that any master should stand in my kraal without my word, and I have driven even Igselensi from my face." "That is all foolish talk, Karata," said Bones. "This is good talk: shall Karata live or shall he die? This you shall say. If you send away this palaver and say to your people that we are folk whom you desire shall live in the shadow of the king's hut, then you live. Let him say less than this, Bosambo, and you strike quickly." The king looked from face to face. Bones had his hand in the uniform jacket pocket. Bosambo balanced his killing-spear on the palm of his hand, the chief saw with the eye of an expert that the edge was razor sharp. Then he turned to t
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