"I think so," said Sanders dully, and fumbled for his revolver.
It was half drawn, his thumb on the hammer, when a rifle banged in the bushes and the woman fell forward without a word.
Ahmid, the Houssa, was ever a bad shot.
"I believe," said Sanders, later, "that you took your rifle to kill me, being under the influence of M'Lino, so I will make no bad report against you."
"Master," said the Houssa simply, "I know nothing of the matter."
"That I can well believe," said Sanders, and gave the order to march.
CHAPTER XI.
THE WITCH-DOCTOR.
Nothing surprised Sanders except the ignorance of the average stay-at-home Briton on all matters pertaining to the savage peoples of Africa. Queer things happened in the "black patch"—so the coast officials called Sanders' territory—miraculous, mysterious things, but Sanders was never surprised. He had dealings with folks who believed in ghosts and personal devils, and he sympathised with them, realising that it is very difficult to ascribe all the evils of life to human agencies.