It was a big bull, he went on, and there would be much meat for every one. The prone figures twisted over on to their knees and clapped their hands softly in token of gratitude.
After he had taken them, he continued, to the meat at dawn, work would start on the rafts, ready to leave the bay in the afternoon.
He began to speak lower, but his voice did not falter. Bwana Dick, he said, was missing. He feared something had befallen him. His words were received, it seemed to Norah, in complete apathy. The goings on of the strange white man were no concern of the people.
The Bwana, said Archie, had started towards the northern arm of the bay, looking for fish. He had not returned. Archie paused, but the natives listened in a detached silence.
Shortly before dark, he continued, he had heard a sound like a cry. It came from the beach. He looked at the natives, but no one made a sound. He bade Matao inquire if any of them had heard it. Matao saluted and whispering started. Archie waited awhile before he finished his tale.
He had gone, he said at last, in the direction of the cry, and had found Dick's footprints in the sand ... and the spoor of a crocodile. He stopped speaking.
The natives were in eager discussion. They were interested, thought Norah, in this version of Dick's death, not as a tragedy but as a sort of sporting event between a man and a crocodile. Then her heart stood still. Their unfailing interest in game of all sorts would draw them next morning, however indifferent to Dick's fate, to the beach to see the spoor and trace the struggle. And they would find smooth shingle: not a mark to confirm the story. Why, oh! why had Archie not consulted her? She could have devised a story less vulnerable than that.
The whispering ceased as a native rose, helping himself up by his spear struck into the ground. With quick gesture he told his story, starting, as natives do, with happenings of days before. How Bwana A-ri-shy had brought them in canoes across the lake; how Bwana Dick-i had come by night; of the migration to the bay and the trees they had felled.
Archie listened imperturbably to the rambling statement. At last the man came to the point. He had been sent by Matao to soak some lushishi in the margin of the lake. While he did so he heard a shout.
'Who shouted?' asked Archie quickly.