"And this man, lord?" asked the Houssa, pointing to the last of the would-be assassins.
Sanders walked to the man.
"Tell me," he said, "how many were you who waited to kill me?"
"Five, lord," said the man.
"Five?" said Sanders, "but I found only four bodies."
It was at that instant that the fifth man fired from the bank.
* * * * *
The Grasshopper, towing forty war canoes of the Ochori, came round a bend of the great river and fell into an ambuscade.
The Ochori were a brave people, but unused to the demoralising effect of firearms, however badly and wildly aimed.
Bosambo from the stern of the little steamer yelled directions to his panic-stricken fleet without effect. They turned and fled, paddling for their lives the way they had come. Jim essayed a turning movement in the literal sense, and struck a submerged log. The ill-fated Grasshopper went down steadily by the bow, and in a last desperate effort ran for the shore under a hail of bullets. They leapt to land, four men—Bosambo's fighting headman was the fourth—and, shooting down immediate opposition, made for the bush.