“Not as long as I can carry a gun,” answers Obianga.
By this time they are standing up and looking hard at each other. But Makuba would not think of striking a man in a mission boat. He therefore becomes diplomatic. Suddenly in a tone altogether different he says:
“Obianga, the trouble with you is that you are just a bush man; you don’t know anything about civilization. On every big ocean-steamer there is a captain, and every man on board, no matter what tribe he belongs to, obeys the captain.”
Obianga becomes instantly curious and asks: “Is he rich!”
“Yes,” says Makuba, “he gets big pay, and so do I get big pay.”
“How much do you get, Makuba?”
“How much do you think?”
Obianga thinks, as well as he knows how, his countenance distorted with the effort, and at length answers reflectively: “Two dollars a mouth.”—He himself gets a dollar and a half.
A broad smile engages Makuba’s features as he slowly answers: “Five dollars a month.”