He delivered his stock breathlessly.
"Fine!" said Mr. Hold, awestricken and dazed.
He felt at home in the procession which marched in stately manner towards the chief's hut; it was as near a circus parade as made no difference.
Over a dinner of fish he outlined the object of his search and the reason for his presence.
It was a laborious business, necessitating the employment of the despised and frightened interpreter until the words "ki-chu" were mentioned, whereupon Bosambo brightened up.
"Sah," interrupted Bosambo, "I savee al dem talk; I make 'um English one time good."
"Fine," said Mr. Hold gratefully, "I get you, Steve."
"You lookum ki-chu," continued Bosambo, "you no find 'um; I see 'um; I am God-man—Christian; I savee Johnny Baptist; Peter cut 'um head off—dam' bad man; I savee Hell an' all dem fine fellers."
"Tell him——" began Big Ben.
"I spik English same like white man!" said the indignant Bosambo. "You no lib for make dem feller talky talk—I savee dem ki-chu."