_They_ never get home to tea
anyway--stay and dine with Ogula."
"Stop chattering, Jeekie, and untie this infernal mask, I am almost
choked," broke in Alan in a hollow voice.
"Not say 'infernal mask,' Major, say 'face of angel.' Little Bonsa woman
and like it better, also true, if on this occasion only, for she save
our skins," said Jeekie as he unknotted the thongs and reverently
replaced the fetish in its tin box. "My!" he added, contemplating his
master's perspiring countenance, "you blush like garden carrot; well,
gold hot wear in afternoon sun beneath Tropic of Cancer. Now we walk
on quietly and I tell you all I arrange for night's lodging and future
progress of joint expedition."
So gathering together what remained of their few possessions, they
started leisurely down the slope towards the island, and as they went
Jeekie explained all that had happened, since Ogula was not one of the
African languages with which Alan was acquainted and he had only been
able to understand a word here and there.
"Look," said Jeekie when he had finished, and turning, he pointed to the
cannibals who were driving the few survivors of the dwarfs before them
to the spot where their canoes were beached.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184