“Phew! lions, eh?” exclaimed Grosvenor. “I say, Maitland, this is good news, eh, what? I am longing for the chance to have a pot at a lion. All right, Jantje; you tell them that we will kill the lions for them with the greatest of pleasure. We’ll outspan at once and set about the business forthwith. That will be the right thing to do, I suppose, Dick, won’t it?”
“Yes, certainly,” answered Dick, “by all means. But before we think of tackling those lions I must see that poor beggar who was mauled. Two days ago! By Jove, I dread to think of what the state of his wounds must be in this hot weather, that is, if he is still alive. Just ask them, Jantje, whether the boy who was mauled is still living, or whether the lions killed him?”
The question was put, and Jantje duly interpreted the reply.
“Yes, sar, de boy he still alive, but most drefful sick, dhese people say.”
“Good!” exclaimed Dick, dismounting from his horse. “Then say to them that I am a great doctor, and that I intend to save the poor fellow’s life if I can. I want one of them to carry my medicine chest for me, and to take me to the injured man’s hut. Then you had better take the wagon down and outspan near the river, where the grass is good, but where our oxen are not likely to get among the mealies, and then come to me, for I shall probably need you to interpret for me.”
The first part of this speech being interpreted to the little crowd of natives, one of them at once stepped forward, expressing himself as willing to carry the medicine chest and act as guide, while another volunteered to point out a suitable and convenient spot upon which to outspan, the others forthwith breaking into a song of thanksgiving in which they announced to all and sundry that this was their lucky day, inasmuch as that the white ’mlungus were not only going to make well again their brother who was nigh unto death, but were also going to utterly root out and destroy those cunning beasts who refused to come out into the open and face their assagais. Grosvenor announced his intention of accompanying Dick, and five minutes later the pair, with their sable guide leading the way and carrying the medicine chest, were en route for the village, Dick carrying his case of surgical instruments under his arm. Their rifles they left with the wagon, deeming it unnecessary to cumber themselves with superfluous weapons in face of the fact that the villagers were obviously quite friendly disposed to white men, indeed they were still too close to civilisation to anticipate anything else.
As they neared the village the “boy” who preceded them began to shout the great news that the white men were coming to make whole the injured man, and the occupants of the huts, to the number of about two hundred men, women, and children, swarmed out to gaze upon the strangers. The guide, who was inclined to put on airs, upon the strength of being the bearer of the white men’s muti, would fain have made the most of the occasion by pausing in the centre of the village and haranguing his fellows, but Dick nipped the intention ruthlessly in the bud by repeating several times, in an imperative tone of voice, the word hamba (go), and presently the procession—for every occupant of the village formed up and followed the trio—came to a halt in front of one of the huts.
As the bearer of the medicine chest pushed his burden in through the low, narrow entrance of the hut, and dropped on hands and knees in order to follow it, Dick turned and, perceiving a disposition on the part of the crowd to gather close about the entrance, and so exclude what little light and air might otherwise make its way in, took an assagai from the hand of an astonished native, and, holding it by the blade, waved the press back with the butt end of the weapon. Then, still waving the butt end, he described on the ground the arc of a circle of some twelve feet radius from the hut entrance, and, returning the weapon to its owner, pointed to the mark on the ground, and, addressing the curiosity-ridden mob, said impressively in English:
“Now, good people, please have the goodness to keep carefully outside that line, and oblige yours truly!”
There was not one of those odoriferous, dark-skinned Kafirs who comprehended a word of English, but Dick’s actions and the tones of his voice were so expressive that his meaning was almost as distinctly understood as though he had spoken in the language of the tribe. He saw at once that this was so, and that his wishes would be obeyed, and signing to Grosvenor to precede him, forthwith passed into the hut.