“No, they’re dancing around us,” said Tom.
“That’s it!” exclaimed Mr. Anderson. “I have it! Why didn’t I think of it before? The natives are welcoming us!”
“Welcoming us?” repeated Ned.
“Yes,” went on the missionary seeker. “They are doing a dance in our honor, and they have even called out the witch-doctors to do us homage.”
“That’s right,” agreed Mr. Durban, who was listening to the chanting of the natives dressed in animal skins. “They take us for spirits from another land, and are making us welcome here. Listen, I’ll see if I can make out what else they are saying.”
The character of the shouts and chants changed abruptly, and the dancing increased in fervor, even the children throwing themselves wildly about. The witch-doctors ran around like so many maniacs, and it looked as much like an American Indian war dance as anything else.
“I’ve got it!” shouted Mr. Durban, for he had to call loudly to be heard above the din. “They are asking us to make it rain. It seems there has been a dry spell here, and their own rain-makers and witch-doctors haven’t been able to get a drop out of the sky. Now, they take it that we have come to help them. They think we are going to bring rain.”
“And if we don’t, what will happen?” asked Tom.
“Maybe they won’t be quite so glad to see us,” was the answer.
“Well, if they don’t mean war, we might as well put up our weapons,” suggested Mr. Anderson. “If they’re going to be friendly, so much the better, and if it should happen to rain while we’re here, they’d think we brought it, and we could have almost anything we wanted. Perhaps they have a store of ivory hidden away, Mr. Durban. Some of these tribes do.”