"Berrah nice place, sah," said Nando cheerfully. "Chief him missis buried dah."
The travellers approached with curiosity. Inside the shed they saw a small image, roughly carved in semblance of a human figure, set upright in the ground. At one side lay two or three wicker baskets, at the other a bottle; in front a big iron spoon stuck out of the soil, and all around were strewed hundreds of small beads. Nando explained that these had been the property of the deceased lady.
"And is she buried under them?" asked Mr. Martindale, stepping back a pace.
"Bit of her, sah."
"What do you mean—a bit of her?"
"All dey find, sah. Bula Matadi come, make big bobbery; bang! chief him missis lib for[[1]] dead, sah. Bad man cut up, put in pot, only little bit left, sah."
Mr. Martindale shivered, then waxed indignant.
"I don't believe it," he declared stoutly. "Such things aren't done in these days. There are no cannibals in these days—eh, Jack?"
"I hope not, uncle. But are we near Banonga, Nando?"
"Small small, sah, den Banonga."