“Ow!” he exclaimed as the hornet stung him.
“Ach, you woman of shame, catch it instantly!”
Without hesitation Bakunjala made another grab, and clutching the fly tightly, made to open the screen door.
“Halt!” commanded the lieutenant.
Bakunjala obeyed.
Zu Pfeiffer regarded the man standing with the wasp sting buried in his palm with a slight smile of amusement.
“It hurts?” he inquired amiably.
“Indio, Bwana!” asserted Bakunjala.
“Good! Now stop there.”
Motionless remained the negro. Zu Pfeiffer leisurely selected a fresh cigar, lighted it, stoked it, and inhaling smoke stroked his left moustache.