"Where is the old chief, your father?" he asked.
"Master," said M'Kovo earnestly, "I will not lie to you. My father has taken his warriors into the forest, and I fear that he will do evil."
And he told a story which was long and circumstantial, of the sudden flaming up of an old man's rages and animosities.
Sanders listened patiently.
An unwavering instinct, which he had developed to a point where it rose superior to reason, told him that the man was lying. Nor was his faith in his own judgment shaken when M'Kovo produced his elder men and witnesses to his sire's sudden fit of depravity.
But Sanders was a cunning man and full of guile.
He dropped his hand of a sudden upon the other's shoulder.
"M'Kovo," he said mildly, "it seems that your chief and father is no longer worthy. Therefore you shall dwell in the chief's hut. Yet first you shall bring me the chief Hikilari, and you shall bring him unhurt and he shall have his eyes. Bring him quickly, M'Kovo."
"Lord," said M'Kovo sullenly, "he will not come, and how may I force him, for he has many warriors with him?"
Sanders thought the matter out.