“Why not? It’s as good a place as any. I’ll ask Tongwana.”
He called to the old chief, who was seated on the ground among a small group a little way off. Tongwana came forward, and saluted Thornhill, and there was a lot of talk and banter.
“I have not seen thee since the day of the ‘king of serpents’ my father,” the latter was saying.
“Whau! that was a great day, and a great snake,” chuckled the old man.
“So that’s the big chief?” commented Evelyn. “He doesn’t look particularly dignified.”
“He’s very old,” explained Elvesdon. “But whatever he looks he’s all right. He and Zavula are the best men in authority we’ve got.” Then turning again to the old chief, “What has become of Zavula, my father? Three times have I sent for him, and it is said that he is lying sick.”
“I had not heard that, Nkose. But I am growing old. The young men toss the news about from one to the other; but we old ones—au! It is good night.”
“It’s rather a rum thing, Thornhill, but I’m not quite easy in my mind about old Zavula. He came to the office to tell me a very queer story the last time I saw him, and every time I ask after him they say he is sick.”
“H’m!” said Thornhill, drily.
“He’s such a straight old chap too. Now I think we can shut up shop—you ladies would like tea, I know, before the fun begins.”