"A slip of the tongue, old chap. Of course I'm with you, all along the line. How are we going to set about it, then?"
"Don't know yet. That's what we've got to decide before we go to bed to-night. One thing's certain, we must make up our minds quickly, start soon, and hurry like the very dickens, for if there's any truth in this tale of a fort, we must collar our rifles and ammunition before they get to it, or we're done. That's the first thing: to get our rifles back."
"That's a large order. How many did they take?"
"Four and a shot-gun. If they're the same lot we dealt with before they'll have about a dozen now. I know we don't stand the ghost of a chance of recovering them in a fight; that's absurd; but I rather think if we put our heads together we can find some way of diddling them."
"If it's a matter of brains I'm conceited enough to believe we have the odds, but there's a lot to consider besides. We shall have to take a safari to carry provisions, and a pretty big one if we're going to bluff them. They won't bolt as they did before. Well, where will you get your safari from?"
"The village. What are you smiling at? Snakes, I forgot they've run off with all my "trade." I've nothing to pay porters with. That's bad. Still, the chief has known us some time, and perhaps he'll trust us. I'll see, first thing in the morning."
"Who will you leave in charge of the farm? Not the Bengali?"
"Rather not. He may be a very Nimrod in the Sunderbunds, but he's a funk-stick here. No; Coja's a better man."
"But you'll want him to interpret."
"'M. Afraid I shall. I can rub along pretty well with Swahili by this time, but we may come across a tribe who don't know it, and that would certainly be awkward. Well, Coja must come with us, then."