“How?”
“Leave that to me. I will find a way.”
Before Ibrahim could ask again what plan had formulated itself in the madcap’s brain, M’Kamba, the deputy chief, came forward, and this time standing erect, said:
“We will all drink araki now.”
Ibrahim knew enough of the marriage customs of the African tribes to realize that the espousal of the girls was to take place at once, and that the drinking of the powerful araki was the outward symbol of the marriage.
“It is all over with us,” sighed Ibrahim.
“I don’t think so. Who has any araki?”
“M’Kamba must have, or he would not have suggested it.”
“Then let him bring the bottles here, and the girls shall drink first.”
“You are a mystery, Max. What do you intend doing?”