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The Essential Edgar Wallace Collection. Edgar WallaceЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Essential Edgar Wallace Collection - Edgar  Wallace


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they forgot all that he had said.

      In the meantime, up and down the river went Bones, palavers which lasted from sunrise to sunset being his portion.

      He had in his mind one vital fact, that for the honour of his race and for the credit of his administration he must bring to justice the man who slew the thing which he had found in the river. Chiefs and elders met him with scarcely concealed scorn, and waited expectantly to hear his strong, foreign language. But in this they were disappointed, for Bones spoke nothing but the language of the river, and little of it.

      He went on board the _Zaire_ on the ninth night after his discovery, dispirited and sick at heart.

      "It seems to me, Ahmet," he said to the Houssa sergeant who stood waiting silently by the table where his meagre dinner was laid, "that no man speaks the truth in this cursed land, and that they do not fear me as they fear Sandi."

      "Lord, it is so," said Ahmet; "for, as your lordship knows, Sandi was very terrible, and then, O Tibbetti, he is an older man, very wise in the ways of these people, and very cunning to see their heart. All great trees grow slowly, O my lord! and that which springs up in a night dies in a day."

      Bones pondered this for a while, then:

      "Wake me at dawn," he said. "I go back to M'fa for the last palaver, and if this palaver be a bad one, be sure you shall not see my face again upon the river."

      Bones spoke truly, his resignation, written in his sprawling hand, lay enveloped and sealed in his cabin ready for dispatch. He stopped his steamer at a village six miles from M'fa, and sent a party of Houssas to the village with a message.

      The chief was to summon all eldermen, and all men responsible to the Government, the wearers of medals and the holders of rights, all landmen and leaders of hunters, the captains of spears, and the first headmen. Even to the witch doctors he called together.

      "O soldier!" said the chief, dubiously, "what happens to me if I do not obey his commands? For my men are weary, having hunted in the forest, and my chiefs do not like long palavers concerning law."

      "That may be," said Ahmet, calmly. "But when my lord calls you to palaver you must obey, otherwise I take you, I and my strong men, to the Village of Irons, there to rest for a while to my lord's pleasure."

      So the chief sent messengers and rattled his _lokali_ to some purpose, bringing headmen and witch doctors, little and great chiefs, and spearmen of quality, to squat about the palaver house on the little hill to the east of the village.

      Bones came with an escort of four men. He walked slowly up the cut steps in the hillside and sat upon the stool to the chief's right; and no sooner had he seated himself than, without preliminary, he began to speak. And he spoke of Sanders, of his splendour and his power; of his love for all people and his land, and also M'ilitani, who these men respected because of his devilish blue eyes.

      At first he spoke slowly, because he found a difficulty in breathing, and then as he found himself, grew more and more lucid and took a larger grasp of the language.

      "Now," said he, "I come to you, being young in the service of the Government, and unworthy to tread in my lord Sandi's way. Yet I hold the laws in my two hands even as Sandi held them, for laws do not change with men, neither does the sun change whatever be the land upon which it shines. Now, I say to you and to all men, deliver to me the slayer of B'chumbiri that I may deal with him according to the law."

      There was a dead silence, and Bones waited.

      Then the silence grew into a whisper, from a whisper into a babble of suppressed talk, and finally somebody laughed. Bones stood up, for this was his supreme moment.

      "Come out to me, O killer!" he said softly, "for who am I that I can injure you? Did I not hear some voice say _g'la_, and is not _g'la_ the name of a fool? O, wise and brave men of the Akasava who sit there quietly, daring not so much as to hit a finger before one who is a fool!"

      Again the silence fell. Bones, his helmet on the back of his head, his hands thrust into his pockets, came a little way down the hill towards the semi-circle of waiting eldermen.

      "O, brave men!" he went on, "O, wonderful seeker of danger! Behold! I, _g'la_, a fool, stand before you and yet the killer of B'chumbiri sits trembling and will not rise before me, fearing my vengeance. Am I so terrible?"

      His wide open eyes were fixed upon the uncle of B'chumbiri, and the old man returned the gaze defiantly.

      "Am I so terrible?" Bones went on, gently. "Do men fear me when I walk? Or run to their huts at the sound of my puc-a-puc? Do women wring their hands when I pass?"

      Again there was a little titter, but M'gobo, the uncle of B'chumbiri, grimacing now in his rage, was not amongst the laughers.

      "Yet the brave one who slew----"

      M'gobo sprang to his feet.

      "Lord," he said harshly, "why do you put all men to shame for your sport?"

      "This is no sport, M'gobo," answered Bones quickly. "This is a palaver, a killing palaver. Was it a woman who slew B'chumbiri? so that she is not present at this palaver. Lo, then I go to hold council with women!"

      M'gobo's face was all distorted like a man stricken with paralysis.

      "Tibbetti!" he said, "I slew B'chumbiri--according to custom--and I will answer to Sandi, who is a man, and understands such palavers."

      "Think well," said Bones, deathly white, "think well, O man, before you say this."

      "I killed him, O fool," said M'gobo loudly, "though his father turned woman at the last--with these hands I cut him, using two knives----"

      "Damn you!" said Bones, and shot him dead.

      * * * * *

      Hamilton, so far convalescent that he could smoke a cigarette, heard the account without interruption.

      "So there you are, sir," said Bones at the side. "An' I felt like a jolly old murderer, but, dear old officer, what was I to do?"

      Still Hamilton said nothing, and Bones shifted uncomfortably.

      "For goodness gracious sake don't sit there like a bally old owl," he said, fretfully. "Was I wrong?"

      Hamilton smiled.

      "You're a jolly old commissioner, sir," he mimicked, "and for two pins I'd mention you in dispatches."

      Bones examined the piping of his khaki jacket and extracted the pins.

      CHAPTER XII

      THE MAN WHO DID NOT SLEEP

      No doubt whatever but that Lieutenant Tibbetts of the Houssas had a pretty taste for romance. It led him to exercise certain latent powers of imagination and to garnish his voluminous correspondence with details of happenings which had no very solid foundation in fact.

      On one occasion he had called down the heavy sarcasm of his superior officer by a reference to lions--a reference which Hamilton's sister had seen and, in the innocence of her heart, had referred to in a letter to her brother.

      Whereupon Bones swore to himself that he would carefully avoid corresponding with any person who might have the remotest acquaintance with the remotest of Hamilton's relatives.

      Every mail night Captain Hamilton underwent a cross-examination which at once baffled and annoyed him.

      Picture a great room, the walls of varnished match-boarding, the bare floor covered in patches by skins. There are twelve windows covered with fine mesh wire and looking out to the broad verandah which runs round the bungalow. The furniture is mainly wicker work, a table or two bearing framed photographs (one has been cleared for the huge gramophone


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