"Arms of precision! The Frenchman had better take care. If any of our Government fellows catch him at that game, they'll shoot him first and inquire into him afterwards."
"Well, what he's going to do in the matter, I don't exactly know. You see, the beggar had Kallee's ear, and to tell you the plain truth he had me deported. Kallee said that if he laid hands on me again, he would have my skin off, and stuff it with straw, and stick it in the road that leads to Malla-Nulla as a warning to the next Englishman that came along that it would be more healthy to keep inside his own marches."
Slade laughed. "I bet you footed it away."
"What the devil else could I do? And here am I, no forwarder with O'Neill and Craven's job than I was the day I tramped out of Malla-Nulla. I did say 'Rubber' to the King, and he did hear out my tale. He said it was good palaver, and set on a couple of hundred slaves there and then with matchets to clear bush and plant rubber vines to grow revenue for himself. But he sells no land to Englishmen, and I guess if another of the breed comes up yet awhile, Kallee'll plant him. By the way, Slade, have you been in touch with the bush telegraph?"
"Oh, I heard that the usual vague rows and horribles were going on in Okky City, but I didn't pay much attention to that. I did hear, too, that Cappie Image and the M'poso helped a red-headed man, who I suppose was that young Carter of yours, in some sort of a row at presumably Malla-Nulla. I took the trouble to go into the dates; the news must have travelled here in thirty hours, and we're a good two hundred miles from the Coast. It is a bit marvellous. I wonder how the deuce the niggers do it. Some sort of ju-ju, I suppose, but I never met a white man yet who understood the trick."
"Did you hear anything about a white woman stirring things up?"
"Certainly, I did, and concluded it was Laura. I left her in charge at Smooth River, you know, and she's grown into a jolly capable girl, let me tell you, old man, when she cares to spread herself. What are you twiddling about your eyeglass for? Why don't you say out what you mean? Oh, I see. White. By gad, I'd never thought of that. Even a bush telegraph, which is always liable to mistake in detail, would never blunder into calling my little girl white. By gad, Smith, what a damnable thing that 'sins of the fathers' law is. If I were a man that ever looked so much as half a day ahead, I believe I should go mad at the thought of what will become of Laura in the future. You're a tough old ruffian with no cares and you could never understand what that kiddie is to me."
"No use crying over a marriage that's over. Everybody that knows her will do his best for Laura, and if any man tried hanky-panky tricks with her he'd probably die one of the local deaths of Africa in very quick time. But about this white woman. I heard about her, too. There was a big tom-toming far away in the bush one night, ten minutes after the sun went out, and my boys listened hard and then set up a fine chatter. It was long enough before I could make anything out of them, but at last I heard something about 'a white mammy' that set me thinking. I got the idea at first that someone, probably the Okky-men, had been knocking a she-missionary on the head, and that made me cock up my ears. You know when a trader or a man in one of the services gets scuppered out here, the pious people at home say it's his own brutal fault and the poor African is quite right in what he does. But when it's a missionary, the Exeter Hall crew insist on war."
Slade put up the usual Coaster's wish for the future of Exeter Hall.
"Quite so," said Swizzle-Stick Smith. He got up and limped across to the doorway and stood there for a minute puffing pale blue smoke into the dazzle of sunshine. Then he came back again and once more sat on the earthen floor with his back against a bale. "The boys out there, both yours and mine, are still harping on the same subject."