Fortune favoured them, for as the Zanzibar boy approached with a message from the officers, there arose the sound of rifle-shots from the forest beyond. The people in the square shouted a reply, and presently a party of men, dressed in long white robes, appeared. They halted in the square, and the leader came on alone. He stooped to stare into the face of Muata as he passed, then approached.
"Welcome, Hassan! My people are feasting; thanks to the skill of my friend here;" and the Belgian who had come forward indicated Mr. Hume.
The Arab peered into Mr. Hume's face and salaamed, with an evil smile on his wide, thin-lipped mouth.
"I am thankful," he said in the native dialect, "for your kindness in bringing back my slave"—pointing towards Muata.
"It was a small thing," said Mr. Hume.
"But it pleases me; and when you reach my zareba, all that is mine to command is yours."
He looked at Venning, and the boy noticed that the pupils of the eyes had a white speck, which gave to them a sinister appearance.
"Good," said the Belgian. "We will have a night. Pardon me for a short time while I discuss a little matter touching the reward for Muata with my friend Hassan."
The two went off, the Arab casting a ferocious look back at the chief.
Venning tugged at the hunter's arm. "Look," he whispered.