Part 28 (1/2)
”Death and the torments of hell to follow,” said Abiboo, as embittered by the loss of his tarbosh, which had cost him five francs in the French territory
Sanders put up his rifle when he saw the prisoner He held an informal court in the shattered deck cabin
”Did you shoot at me?” he asked
”I did, master,” said the man
”Why?”
”Because,” the prisoner replied, ”you are a devil and exercise witchcraft”
Sanders was puzzled a little
”In what particular section of the devil department have I been busy?” he asked in the vernacular
The prisoner was gazing at him steadily
”Master,” he replied, ”it is not s It is said to me, 'kill'-and I kill”
Sanders wasted no more time in vain questions The ain down streail
Midway between B'Fani and Lakaloli he ca-up place Here there were dead trees for the chopping, and he put his men to replenish his stock of fuel
He was annoyed, not because a man had attempted to take his life, nor even because his neat little cabin foras a litter of splinters and broken glass where the potleg had struck, but because he nosed trouble where he thought all was peace and harmony
He had control of some sixteen distinct and separate nations, each isolated and separated froe They were distinct, not as the French are from the Italian, but as the Slav is frolish caainst people There were battles, s, and wholesale crucifixions, but the British changed all that There was peace in the land
Sanders selected with care a long, thin cigar from his case, nibbled at the end and lit it
The prisoner sat on the steel deck of the Zaire near the -iron to a staple, and did not seem depressed to any extent When Sanders made his appearance, a caan his inquisition
”How do they call you, my man?”
”Bofabi of Isisi”
”Who told you to kill et”
”A man or a woman?”