Part 18 (2/2)
But at that time the particular brew was nearly exhausted, so that temperance was happily the order of the day.
Having no hops in those regions, they are unable to prevent fermentation, and are therefore obliged to drink up a whole brewing as quickly as possible after it is made.
”Man, why don't ye wash yer face?” said Disco to the little fiddler as he replenished his calabash; ”it's awful dirty.”
Jumbo laughed, of course, and the small musician, not understanding what was said, followed suit out of sympathy.
”Wash him's face!” cried Antonio, laughing, ”him would as soon cut off him's head. Manganja nevair wash. Ah me! You laugh if you hear de womans ask me yesterday--`Why you wash?' dey say, `our men nevair do.'
Ho! ho! dey looks like it too.”
”I'm sure that cannot be said of Kambira or any of his chief men,” said Harold.
”Perhaps not,” retorted Antonio, ”but some of 'um nevair wash. Once 'pon a time one man of dis tribe foller a party me was with. Not go way for all we tell 'um. We said we shoot 'um. No matter, hims foller still. At last we say, `You scoun'rel, we _wash_ you!' Ho! how hims run! Jist like zebra wid lion at 'um's tail. Nevair see 'um after dat--nevair more!”
”Wot a most monstrous ugly feller that is sittin' opposite Kambira, on the other side o' the fire--the feller with the half-shaved head,” said Disco in an undertone to Harold during a temporary pause in eating.
”A well-made man, however,” replied Harold.--”I say, Disco,” he added, with a peculiar smile, ”you think yourself rather a good-looking fellow, don't you, now?”
The worthy seaman, who was indeed an exceptionally good-looking tar, modestly replied--”Well now, as you have put it so plump I don't mind if I do confess that I've had some wild suspicions o' that sort now and then.”
”Then you may dismiss your suspicions now, for I can a.s.sure you that you are regarded in this land as a very monster of ugliness,” said Harold, laughing.
”In the estimation of n.i.g.g.e.rs your garments are hideous; your legs they think elephantine, your red beard frightful, and your blue eyes savage--_savage_! think of that.”
”Well, well,” retorted Disco, ”your own eyes are as blue as mine, an' I don't suppose the n.i.g.g.e.rs think more of a yaller beard than a red one.”
”Too true, Disco; we are both ill-favoured fellows here, whatever we may be elsewhere; however, as we don't intend to take Manganja wives it won't matter much. But what think you of our plan, now that Kambira is ready to fall in with it?”
”It seems a good one. When do we start?”
”To-morrow,” said Harold.
”Wery good,” replied Disco, ”I'm agreeable.”
The morrow came, and with the early light all the people turned out to witness the departure of the hunters. Scouts had been previously sent out in all directions to make sure that no enemies or slave-traders were at that time in their immediate neighbourhood, and a strong force of the best warriors was left to guard the village.
Of Harold's band, two half-castes, Jose and Oliveira, volunteered to stay in camp with the guard, and two, Songolo and Mabruki, the freemen of Quillimane, remained in the village to recruit their health, which had failed. Chimbolo likewise remained, the wounds on his back not having healed sufficiently to admit of the hard labour of hunting. All the rest accompanied the hunters, and of these the three Makololo men, Jumbo, Zombo, and Masiko, were incomparably the best and bravest. Of course the volatile Antonio also went, being indispensable.
On setting out--each man with his sleeping-mat on his back and his little wooden pillow hung at his neck,--there was a great deal of shouting and ho-ho-ing and well-wis.h.i.+ng on the part of those who remained behind, but above all the noise there arose a shrill cry of intense and agonising despair. This proceeded from the small windpipe of little Obo, who had not until the last moment made the appalling discovery that Kambira was going away without him!
There was something very touching in the cry of the urchin, and something which brought vividly to the minds of the Englishmen the infantine community of their own land. There was the same sudden gaze of horror on realising the true position of affairs,--the same sharp shriek and frantic struggle to escape from the grasp of those who held him back from following his father,--the same loud cry of agony on finding that his efforts were vain, and then, the wide-open mouth, the close-shut eyes, and the awful, prolonged silence--suggestive of fits-- that betokens the concentration of mind, heart, and lungs into that tremendous roar of unutterable significance which appears to be the safety-valve of the human family, black and white, at that tender period of life.
Poor Obo! his sobs continued to burst out with steam-engine power, and his eyes to pour cataracts of tears into Yohama's sympathetic bosom, long after the hunting party had left the hills behind them, and advanced into the almost impenetrable jungles of the low grounds.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
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