"Bad cess to you, you young varmint!" exclaimed Barney, waking with a start. "What do you say at all?"
"Ba-lofúndú bao ya! Boloko!"
"Be jabers if I know what you'd be meaning. Off! Run! Nando! And it's pitch dark it is."
The boy scampered, Pat still at his heels. The dog had evidently been impressed by Samba's warnings, for he ran silently, without growl or bark. They came to the spot where Nando lay, beneath a spreading acacia. Samba shook him without ceremony.
"Ba-lofúndú bao ya!" he cried. "Betsua! Betsua!"[[1]]
Nando growled and bade him be off; but when the boy poured his story with eager excitement into the big negro's sleepy ears, Nando at last bestirred himself, and hurried to Mr. Martindale's tent, bidding Samba remain at hand.
"Samba him uncle, berrah bad man, come to fight," said Nando breathlessly when Jack came to the door of the tent. "Bad man go round round, hide in trees, come like leopard. Massa gone 'sleep: massa him men all lib for big sleep; Boloko shoot; one, two, massa dead all same."
"What, what!" said Mr. Martindale, flinging off his rug. "Another alarm, eh?" He pressed the button of an electric torch and threw a bright light on the scene.
"An attack in force this time, uncle," said Jack. "Some black fellows are coming to surprise us in the rear."
"How many are the villains?" said Mr. Martindale, pulling on his trousers.