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

"A Yellow God: an Idol of Africa"

"
"It's very odd, Jeekie," replied Alan, "but so do I."
"Well, Major, 'spect she thinking of us, specially of you, and just
throw what she think at us, like boy throw stones at bird what fly away
out of cage. Asika do all that, you know, she not quite human, full of
plenty Bonsa devil, from gen'ration to gen'rations, amen! P'raps she
just find out something what make her mad."
"What could she find out after all this time, Jeekie?"
"Oh, don't know. How I know? Jeekie can't guess. Find out you marry Miss
Barbara, p'raps. Very sick that she lose you for this time, p'raps. Kill
herself that she keep near you, p'raps, while she wait till you come
round again, p'raps. Asika can do all these things if she like, Major."
"Stuff and rubbish," answered Alan uneasily, for Jeekie's suggestions
were most uncomfortable, "I believe in none of your West Coast
superstitions."
"Quite right, Major, nor don't I. Only you 'member, Major, what she show
us there in Treasure-place--Mr. Haswell being buried, eh? Miss Barbara
in tent, eh? t'other job what hasn't come off yet, eh? Oh! my golly!
Major, just you look behind you and say you see nothing, please," and
the eyes of Jeekie grew large as Maltese oranges, while with chattering
teeth he pointed over the bulwark of the vessel.


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