It howled and gibbered and flung itself against the bars, and Bosambo viewed its transports with interest.
"Lord," he said, "this only I ask you: that you take this ki-chu shortly from here. Also, you shall not show it to Sandi lest he be jealous that we send away from our country so rare a thing."
"But," protested Mr. Hold to the interpreter, "you tell the chief that Mr. Sanders just wants me to catch the ki-chu—say, Bosambo, you savee, Sandi wantee see dem ki-chu?"
They were sitting before the chief's hut on the ninth day of the American's visit. The calm of evening lay on the city, and save for the unhappy noises of the captive no sound broke the Sabbath stillness of the closing day.
Bosambo was sitting at his ease, a bundle of English banknotes suspended by a cord about his neck, and the peace of heaven in his heart.
He had opened his mouth to explain the idiosyncrasies of the Commissioner when——
"Whiff—snick!"
Something flicked past Big Ben's nose—something that buried its head in the straw of the hut with a soft swish!
He saw the quivering arrow, heard the shrill call of alarm and the dribbling roll of a skin-covered drum.
Then a hand like steel grasped his arm and flung him headlong into the hut, for Sakola's headman had come in person to avenge certain indignities and the city of the Ochori was surrounded by twenty thousand bushmen.