“Nevertheless his múti is great—greater than that of Qubani—in its way.”
“In its way—ah! ah! in its way,” they hummed.
“Talking of Qubani,” replied Lamont. “Now that is an isanusi. I would fain see one like that. But—I suppose he does not live here, son of Gudhlusa.”
“But he is here, Nkose.”
“That is good news, and I have a gift for him. When we have eaten, I will talk with him. When we have eaten, I say.”
The youth grinned, and, taking the hint, walked off, presently to return with some more roasted mealies and tywala.
“You had a good night of it, Father,” said Lamont as they sat discussing this fare. “By Jove! you slept through it all like a humming-top.”
“I believe I did. I was very tired. And you—did you sleep well?”
“Until a whacking big tarantula woke me up by promenading over my ear. I couldn’t get to sleep again all at once after that.”
“That was very unpleasant. Did you kill it?”