“Case of good-bye, Major. Sometimes they
chop off nut, sometimes they spiflicate in gold tub,
sometimes priest-man make hole in what white doctor
call diagram—and shake hands with
heart.—All matter of taste, Major, just
as Asika please. If she like victim or they old
friends, chop off head; if she not like him—do
worse things.”
More than satisfied with his information Alan went
to bed. For hour after hour that night he lay
tossing and turning, haunted by the recollections
of the dreadful sights that he had seen and of the
horrible Asika, horrible and half-naked, glaring at
him amorously through the crystal eyes of Little Bonsa.
When at last he fell asleep it was to dream that he
was alone in the water with the god which pursued
him as a shark pursues a shipwrecked sailor. Never
did he experience a nightmare that was half so awful.
Only one thing could be more awful, the reality itself.
THE MOTHER OF JEEKIE
“Jeekie,” said Alan next morning, “I
tell you again that I have had enough of this place,
I want to get out.”
“Yes, Major, that just what mouse say when he
finish cheese in trap, but missus come along, call
him ‘Pretty, pretty,’ and drown him all
the same,” and he nodded in the direction of
the Asika’s house.
“Jeekie, it has got to be done—do
you hear me? I had rather die trying to get away
than stop here till the next two months are up.
If I am here on the night of the next full moon but
one, I shall shoot that Asika and then shoot myself,
and you must take your chance. Do you understand?”
“Understand that foolish game and poor lookout
for Jeekie, Major, but can’t think of any plan.”
Then he rubbed his big nose reflectively and added,
“Fahni and his people your slaves now, ’spose
we have talk with him. I tell priests to bring
him along when they come with breakfast. Leave
it to me, Major.”
Alan did leave it to him, with the result that after
long argument the priests consented or obtained permission
to produce Fahni and his followers, and a little while
after the great men arrived looking very dejected,
and saluted Alan humbly. Bidding the rest of them
be seated, he called Fahni to the end of the room
and asked him through Jeekie if he and his men did
not wish to return home.
“Indeed we do, white lord,” answered the
old chief, “but how can we? The Asika has
a grudge against our tribe and but for you would have
killed every one of us last night. We are snared
and must stop here till we die.”
“Would not your people help you if they knew,
Fahni?”
“Yes, lord, I think so. But how can I tell
them who doubtless believe us dead? Nor can I
send a messenger, for this place is guarded and he
would be killed at once. We came here for your
sake because you had Little Bonsa, a god that is known
in the east and the west, in the north and the south,
and because you saved me from the lion, and here, alas!
we must perish.”
