Chimbolo winced as though he had been stung when Marizano’s name was mentioned, and a dark frown contracted his brows when he told the Manganja men that he was Chimbolo, and that he was even then in search of Marunga and her little boy.
When all this had been explained to Harold Seadrift he told the men that it was a pity to waste time in travelling such a long way to see their chief, who could not, even if he wished, bewitch the guns of the Ajawa, and advised them to turn back and guide him and his men to the place where the attack had been made on the Manganja, so that a search might be made in the bush for those of the people who had escaped.
This was agreed to, and the whole party proceeded on their way with increased speed, Chimbolo and Harold hoping they might yet find that Marunga had escaped, and Disco earnestly desiring that they might only fall in with the Ajawa and have a brush with them, in which case he assured the negroes he would show them a way of bewitching their guns that would beat their chief’s bewitchment all to sticks and stivers!
The village in which Marunga had dwelt was soon reached. It was, as they had been told by their new friends, a heap of still smouldering ashes; but it was not altogether destitute of signs of life. A dog was observed to slink away into the bush as they approached.
The moment Chimbolo observed it he darted into the bush after it.
“Hallo!” exclaimed Disco in surprise; “that nigger seems to have took a sudden fancy to the cur?—Eh, Antonio, wot’s the reason of that, think ’ee?”
“Dunno; s’pose where dog be mans be?”
“Ah! or womans,” suggested Disco.
“Or womans,” assented Antonio.
Just then they heard Chimbolo’s shout, which was instantly followed by a succession of female shrieks. These latter were repeated several times, and sounded as though the fugitives were scattering.