A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 337 pages of information about A Yellow God.

A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 337 pages of information about A Yellow God.

Advancing to Alan two of them knelt before him, holding out the trays upon which was the food.  So they remained while he ate, like bronze statues, nor would they consent to change their posture even when he told them in their language to be pleased to go away.  On hearing themselves addressed in the Asiki language, they seemed surprised, for their faces changed a little, but go they would not.  The result was that Alan grew extremely nervous and ate and drank so rapidly that he scarcely noted what he was putting into his mouth.  Then before Jeekie, to whom the women did not kneel, had half finished his dinner, Alan rose and walked away, whereon two of the women gathered up everything, including the dishes that had been given to Jeekie, and in spite of his remonstrances carried them out of the room.

“I say, Major,” said Jeekie, “if you gobble chop so fast you go ill inside.  Poor nigger like me can’t keep up with you and sleep hungry to-night.”

“I am sorry, Jeekie,” said Alan with a little laugh, “but I can’t eat off living tables, especially when they stare at one like that.  You tell them that to-morrow we will breakfast alone.”

“Oh, yes, I tell them, Major, but I don’t know if they listen.  They mean it great compliment and only think you not like those girls and send others.”

“Look here, Jeekie,” exclaimed Alan, turning his masked face towards the two who remained, “let us come to an understanding at once.  Clear them out.  Tell them I am so holy that Little Bonsa is enough for me.  Say I can’t bear the sight of females, and that if they stop here I will sacrifice them.  Say anything you like, only get rid of them and lock the door.”

Thus adjured, Jeekie began to reason with the women, and as they treated his remarks with lofty disdain, at last seized first one and then the other by the elbows and literally ran them out of the room.

“There,” he said, “baggage gone since you make such fuss about it, though I ’spect they try to give me Bean for this job” (here he spoke not in figurative English slang, but of the Calabar bean, which is a favourite native poison).  “Well, dinner gone and girls gone, and we tired, so best go to bed.  Think we all private here now, though in Gold House never can be sure,” and he looked round him suspiciously, adding, “rummy place, Gold House, full of all sort of holes made by old fellows thousand year ago, which no one know but Bonsa priests.  Still, best risk it and take off your face so that you have decent wash,” and he began to unlace the mask on his master’s head.

Never has a City clerk dressed up for a fancy ball in the armour of a Norman knight, been more glad to get rid of his costume than was Alan of that hateful head-dress.  At length it was gone with his other garments and the much-needed wash accomplished, after which he clothed himself in a kind of linen gown which apparently had been provided for him, and lay down on one of the couches, placing his revolver by his side.

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A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.