"Yes, _bwana_," agreed the gun bearer.

Then they parted. The immediate result was five loads of _potio_ brought by safari men to "somewhere in Africa," and thence transported by Simba's men to Simba's camp. As game was thereabout abundant and undisturbed everybody was happy.

Thus pa.s.sed a week, which brought time forward to the moment when Simba, following his instructions, was to report to Kingozi at the village of M'tela. Therefore Simba set forth, taking with him, according to African custom, one of the porters as companion. He carried Kingozi's rifle, but left that belonging to Winkleman with Mali-ya-bwana.

Winkleman watched Simba go with considerable satisfaction.

Mali-ya-bwana was a man much above average African intelligence, but he had not the experience, the initiative, the _flaire_ of Simba. Nor had he Simba's magic bone. Simba took that with him. Winkleman knew nothing of the supposed virtues of that property; and in consequence entertained a respect for qualities of Simba that were not entirely inherent in that individual. He began to flatter Mali-ya-bwana; to fraternize just enough; to a.s.sume complete resignation to his plight--in short, to use just those tactics a clever man would use to lull the alertness of any bright child. Naturally he succeeded. At sundown of the second day he began to complain of the irksomeness of his bonds.

"This is foolishness, so to treat a _m'zungu_," said he. "Nothing is gained. I cannot sleep; and the skin of my wrists is sore. He who watches has only to keep the fire bright. I cannot go like smoke."

To Mali-ya-bwana, in his flattered and unsuspicious mood, this seemed reasonable. He was no such fool as to turn Winkleman loose to his own devices; but he compromised by untying the Bavarian's wrists, and doubling the thongs by which the latter's ankles were hitched to the larger timbers of the _banda_. Also he instructed the sentinel to keep the fire bright, to watch _Bwana_ Nyele, and to stop instantly any and all movements of the hands toward the feet.

The early watches pa.s.sed quietly. A second sentinel replaced the first.

Up to this time Winkleman had slept quietly. Now he began to shift position often, to twist and turn, finally to groan softly. The sentinel came to the end of the _banda_ and looked in. To him _Bwana_ Nyele raised a face so ghastly that even the half-savage porter was startled. The man's eyes seemed to have sunk into his head, deep seams to have creased his brow and jaws. Apparently Winkleman was on the point of dissolution.

"_Magi! nataka magi!_"[16] he gasped.

[Footnote 16: Water! I want water!]

The sentinel took the canteen from the peg where it hung and bent over the dying man. Instantly his throat was clasped by a pair of heavy and powerful hands.

Two minutes later Winkleman rose to his feet free. The porter's knife in his hand, he looked down on that unfortunate securely bound and gagged. Treading softly Winkleman stepped through the sleeping camp into the clear. He drew a deep breath. Then unconsciously wiping from his face the mixture of grease and ashes that had const.i.tuted his "make-up," he strode grimly away toward his own safari.

CHAPTER XXIX

WINKLEMAN'S SAFARI ARRIVES

The Leopard Woman watched the safari file down the distant hill and lose itself beneath the green plumes of the papyrus swamp. By all right she should have rejoiced. Against every probability she had succeeded.

The stars had worked for her. Though the prearranged plan had not carried in any of its details, nevertheless the sought-for result had been gained. She had herself done little to detain Kingozi; yet he had been detained; and here was Winkleman, belated but in time, to carry out triumphantly the wishes of the Imperial Government. But her heart was like lead.

After the first droop Kingozi had straightened beneath the blow, and now sat bolt upright, staring straight before him, as a king might have sat alone on his throne. Whatever was coming, he would front it serenely.

The head of the safari appeared at the foot of the slope. It seemed a trifle uncertain as to where to go next, but catching sight of Kingozi's tents, it turned up the hill. Cazi Moto's keen eyes were searching out every detail; those of the Leopard Woman had suddenly become suffused with tears.

"It is a rich safari, _bwana_," Cazi Moto reported; "many loads." His voice sharpened with surprise, but he did not raise his tones. "Simba is there," said he.

"Simba! So they caught him," muttered Kingozi. "Well, that play failed.

Do you see the white man?" he asked.

"No, _bwana_. The white man has not yet come. But Simba now sees us, and is coming."

"He is guarded?"

"No, _bwana_; he is alone."

"_Jambo, bwana_," said Simba's voice a moment later.

Something in his tone caught Kingozi's ear.

"Yes, Simba?" was all he replied.

"All has been done as you ordered, _bwana_. This is the fourteenth day, and I am here to tell you."

Kingozi caught his breath sharply.

"_Bwana_ Nyele was captured?"

"Mali-ya-bwana holds him prisoner at a certain water."

"There was no trouble?"

"None, _bwana_. All happened as you told. This magic is a very great magic," said Simba piously.

Kingozi paused.

"The safari," he suggested at last. "I am told of a safari; indeed, I can hear it. What of that? No orders were given as to a safari."

"That is true, _bwana_," explained Simba earnestly, "but this is a very great safari. It has tents and _potio_, and _chakula_[17], and blankets and beads and wire and many other things to a quant.i.ty impossible to say. And it came to my mind that _shenzis_ like these things, as do all men, and that in this _shenzi_ country my _bwana_ might make use of them; so I brought them with me for your use, _bwana_."

[Footnote 17: _Chakula_--white man's food.]

"You had no trouble bringing this great safari?" asked Kingozi.

"I used again the magic bone," replied Simba.

"Simba, you jewel!" cried Kingozi in English, "you've saved the day! I should think _shenzis_ did like these things! And oh, haven't I needed them! You old tar-baby, you!"

And Simba replied as usual to this incomprehensible gibberish with his own full stock of English:

"Yes, suh!"

"You have done well, very well," Kingozi shifted to Swahili. "I am pleased with you. For this work you shall have much _backsheeshi_--a month's wages extra, and twenty goats for your farm, and any other thing that you want most. What is it?"

Simba appeared to hesitate and boggle.

"Speak up! I am Very pleased."

"This is a very great thing I would ask," said Simba in a low voice.

"It is a great thing you have done."

"_Bwana_," cried Simba earnestly. "It is this: I would have the magic bone for my own. For it is a very great magic," he added wistfully.

Kingozi choked back an impulse to shout aloud.

"It is yours," he said gravely.