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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa"

Now I try catch my ma. I hear
she alive somewhere. They tell me she used keep lodging house for Bonsa
pilgrim, but steal grub, say it cat, all that sort of thing, and get run
in as thief. Afraid my ma come down very much in world, not society lady
now, shut up long way off in suburb. Still p'raps she useful so best
send her message by p'liceman, say how much I love her; say her dear
little Jeekie turn up again just to see her sweet face. Only don't know
if she swallow that or if they let her out prison unless I pay for all
she prig."

CHAPTER XIII
THE FEAST OF LITTLE BONSA
It was the night of full moon and of the great feast of the return of
Little Bonsa. Alan sat in his chamber waiting to be summoned to take
part in this ceremony and listening the while to that _Wow! Wow! Wow!_
of the death drums, whereof Jeekie had once spoken in England, which
could be clearly heard even above the perpetual boom of the cataract
tumbling down its cliff behind the town. By now he had recovered from
the fatigue of his journey and his health was good, but the same could
not be said of his spirits, for never in his life had he felt more
downhearted, not even when he was sickening for blackwater fever, or lay
in bondage in the City, expecting every morning to wake up and find his
reputation blasted.


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