“It was quite dark when we again stood outside Yoraka’s palatial hut, hesitating before we entered. Then, seeing no way out of it, we entered that home of licentiousness. All the hanging coco-nut-oil lamps were ablaze as we stood there once more in the presence of Yoraka, the native girls all staring at us. I think that I preferred the sight of them to the drunken ribaldry of that British heathen. There was something terrible in his gaze as he looked up at us. I saw the domineering gaze of savagery staring from those cold, blue, British eyes. All the inherent might of my own race—the might that had overthrown nation after nation, conquered the world, making all the primitive tribes suppliant at her Imperial Feet—seemed to shine forth in the terrible glare of that red-bearded Britisher as he stared at us with sober eyes! By the dim light of the oil-lamps I discerned the tattoo that marked his massive chest and shoulders. It seemed impossible that he was a white man at all, so villainous did he look. Then he commenced to ask a thousand questions as to what we wanted with him. We told him we didn’t want anything of him. Deny came to the rescue like a brick, for Yoraka was getting fierce; he handed him the remainder of his rum. In a moment the man seemed to forget his suspicions; he smacked his lips, looked up, and gripped Deny’s hand. After that he drank more toddy. He was soon drivelling drunk again. I shall never forget that night if I live to be a thousand years old. As the tribal girls waited on him, he roared forth disgusting songs—putting words of his own to them—and at each loathsome epithet spat up in the faces of the frightened harem-women. Looking up into my face he chuckled and roared out uproariously, making remarks about civilized life.
“‘Go back ter your ole Queen on the Thames! He! he! I’d giver ’er——
“‘Ugh! Ugh! who’ thater girl? She belonger you? I eater better girler than that on toast! Savvy?’
“Still I did not gather the terrible import of his remarks as he looked up, drivelling spittle from betel-nut between his clenched black teeth, and pinched pretty Sanga’s soft arms!
“‘Comer way! Comer way! Master, don’t your know?’ whispered little Sanga, inclining her curly head sideways as she slightly lifted her pretty eyes, giving me a meaning look.
“But still Deny stared and I stared, as Yoraka grovelled on his belly and made loathsome remarks to the women around him. Once more he sought Deny’s conversation, and plied him with that vile toddy stuff. The night was far advanced when the great climax came. Yoraka was poking Deny in the ribs, and Deny was nudging Yoraka. The savage Britisher’s brain had once more become reminiscent, for he was shouting and yelling disgusting ribaldry about his memories of London, Fleet Street, the Strand, and Marble Arch. Then he seemed to become breathless through his own obscenity. He drivelled at the mouth, his head swaying like an imbecile as he lurched forward on his stomach. Then, leaning forward, he took hold of Sanga’s little robe, looked with some terrible meaning into her eyes, took hold of her arm’s soft, semi-white flesh between his thumb and forefinger—and pinched it deliciously!
“His hideous mouth was emitting spittle from between the gaps of his filthy betel-nut-blackened teeth. I distinctly saw him give a fiendish, hungry leer at the girl as he stroked her leg and said something very unguardedly about ‘Long pig!’ and chuckled ‘Kai! kai! I eater nicer girler!’ He was looking up into Deny’s astonished face as he said that. Then he lifted his drunken eyes to my comrade and said, ‘You giver girler me? I make you great chief here!’
“‘Heavens!’ gasped Deny, as he looked at me. ‘Why, he’s a cannibal!’
“Before I knew, or even realized the terror of the whole business, Deny had expressed his horror of that fiend’s remarks in a most forcible way. It all looked like some unreal picture of horror as Yoraka crouched there, grovelling on his stomach, the rows of coco-nut-oil lamps sending a ghastly, unreal glare over his face and on the barbarian furniture, boxes, ornamental matting, calabashes, and human skulls that hung on the walls. He was paralyzed!—as though he’d had a stroke and had died with his mouth and eyes still half-open with astonishment. The native girls, who had been bringing in platters of cooked yams and gourds of toddy, stood transfixed, like wonderful life-like statues of terra-cotta hue, so still did they all stand there in the dim light, some with arms still outstretched, one leg placed forward, one arm uplifted, their eyes glassy, petrified with astonishment—so sudden was the onslaught!
“That representative of a British criminal in savage ‘state,’ rolled his eyes thrice; he seemed to strive to believe his own senses; his mouth was wide open with astonishment and pain, revealing his sharp, dirty teeth, as crash! a second blow knocked them down his throat!