Poison! It was unheard-of. The beasts would not of their own accord eat anything poisonous, and who should want to poison them?
"Perhaps someone has a grudge against you and the kasegara."
Against him, the katikiro! It was impossible. Wasn't he a friend to everyone, never bad-tempered, never greedy, never in anybody's way? The kasegara--oh! there might well be a grudge against him, for he thought a great deal too much of himself, talked a great deal too volubly at the village palavers, and had yet to learn that he was inferior to the katikiro after all.
"No doubt," said Tom, inwardly amused at the whole affair. "Some enemy of the kasegara, then, has paid him out by poisoning two of his cattle, and got rid of one of yours too, by mistake. All cats are gray in the dark, you know."
This explanation somewhat consoled the katikiro, when a Bahima equivalent for the proverb had been found; and then, with Mbutu's assistance, he engaged in animated conversation with Tom about the prime minister of the Great White King, whom he was very eager to emulate.
The death of the cattle passed from Tom's mind, but two days later the whole camp was in an uproar at the discovery that no fewer than six other oxen had died in the same mysterious way. Tom, as he went with Mbutu for his daily walk round the village, was surprised to find that the people looked much less pleasantly on him than usual. The change was shown in more than looks. He beckoned to a handsome little boy of four, a special favourite of his, and the child was running to him when he was checked by a sharp call from his mother, who sent him howling into her hut.
"This looks as though we're outstaying our welcome, Mbutu," said Tom. "Perhaps we had better arrange to start in a couple of days, when the chief gets back from the hunt. I think I'm strong enough to manage the journey if we don't have to hurry."
That night, soon after Mbutu had settled to sleep in his usual place just inside the doorway of his master's hut, he felt the stealthy touch of a hand upon his shoulder. He sprang up, wide awake in an instant. It was the katikiro's voice that spoke to him, and asked him to come out for a little conversation. Surprised at his choosing such a time, Mbutu followed him to the hut in which he had for the time taken up his abode, and there, in low tones, Msala explained the mystery of the villagers' changed attitude.
It was due to the medicine-man, he said. That individual had been for some time doing all he could to stir up the people against the white man, but had met with little success, so confident were they that their chief would never have made a friend of a man likely to harm them. But the loss of the cattle had now given Mabruki a strong leverage. He had gone about among the villagers, declaring that the Buchwezi, the spirits of their ancestors, had revealed to him most positively that the white man was the cause of all their recent losses. The katikiro scouted the suggestion, and had determined to show his friendliness towards Tom by acquainting him with the origin of the hostile movement. He advised Mbutu to lose no time in getting his master away from the village, for if the infatuation got a thorough hold of the people, even the protection of the chief would be quite unable to save their lives.
Mbutu returned to the hut in a state of unconquerable nervousness. After a sleepless night, he gave his master the information he had received.