“And we can bite,” I said haughtily, though how we were to bite or do anything else effectual with nothing but a Union Jack, I did not in the least know.
“What is that thing?” asked Bausi, pointing to the flag.
“That which shadows the whole earth,” I answered proudly, a remark that seemed to impress him, although he did not at all understand it, for he ordered a soldier to hold a palm leaf umbrella over him to prevent it from shadowing him.
“And that,” he asked again, pointing to the music box, “which is not alive and yet makes a noise?”
“That sings the war-song of our people,” I said. “We sent it to you as a present and you returned it. Why do you return our presents, O Bausi?”
Then of a sudden this potentate grew furious.
“Why do you come here, white men,” he asked, “uninvited and against the law of my land, where only one white man is welcome, my brother Dogeetah, who cured me of sickness with a knife? I know who you are. You are dealers in men. You come here to steal my people and sell them into slavery. You had many slaves with you on the borders of my country, but you sent them away. You shall die, you shall die, you who call yourselves lions, and the painted rag which you say shadows the world, shall rot with your bones. As for that box which sings a war-song, I will smash it; it shall not bewitch me as your magic shield bewitched my great doctor, Imbozwi, burning off his hair.”
Then springing up with wonderful agility for one so fat, he knocked the musical box from Hans’s head, so that it fell to the ground and after a little whirring grew silent.
“That is right,” squeaked Imbozwi. “Trample on their magic, O Elephant. Kill them, O Black One; burn them as they burned my hair.”
Now things were, I felt, very serious, for already Bausi was looking about him as though to order his soldiers to make an end of us. So I said in desperation: