There would have been bloodshed had not Mr. Hume, with surprising quietness, flung himself forward and seized the chief round the waist.

Compton, cool and ready, wrenched the bar away; and, seeing this, the natives plucked up spirit, calling on the white man to throw the “black dog” to the crocodiles, which had been attracted by the blood of their wounded fellow, still beating the water in his flurry.

Venning, however, stepped between with his rifle, and the uproar ceased once more.

“Now,” said Mr. Hume, holding the chief by his arm, “what does this mean?  What harm have those men done you?”

“My father has the lion’s grip.  Mawoh!  Muata was a babe in his arms.”

“That may be, but it is no answer.”

“What harm!  Did not my father hear the jackal give tongue?”

“I heard; and those jackals there”—­indicating the watching group—­ “yelped at me, so that I flung one into the water.  But—­what then?  Do you seek to slay when your beast howls?”

“My father does not know, then.”

“I want to know, for it seems to me you were all mad together.”

“Ohe! it is the madness that slays.  Ask of those mudfish there for news of the man who stood behind them to slay Muata, who had the gun aimed to shoot when Muata leapt into the water.  Ask them, and they will lie.”

“What manner of man was this?”

“One of those who hound me in the canoe—­even one of the man-hunters who seized my mother.”

Mr. Hume looked at the boys.  “Did either of you see an Arab on board?  Muata says a man was about to fire at him when he sprang overboard.”

“I thought he fell,” said Compton.  “I saw no one with a gun.”

“Nor I,” said Venning; “but the Arab may have gone below.”

Mr. Hume hailed the captain.  “My man said an attempt was made on his life.  Have you taken an Arab onboard?”

“I have some mad English on board,” said the captain, gruffly; “and I will see they do not stay on longer than I can help.”

“As to that we will see.”

The captain nodded his head and signaled full speed ahead, turning his back on the Englishman.

“I think we can manage the lot,” said Compton, coolly.

Mr. Hume laughed.  “Perhaps so; but it would be very awkward to be detained at the next station as prisoners, or to be sent back.  We must let the matter slide.”

“Shall we search the ship, sir?”

Mr. Hume shook his head.  “Suppose we found some suspicious passenger.  What then?  There was no actual attempt on Muata, and we have only his word; besides”—­and he glanced at the angry captain—­ “there is no need to look for trouble—­it will come.”

He was right.  At the next station, reached within a few hours, the captain lodged a complaint to the authorities in the persons of the Belgian officials, who were evidently charmed with the opportunity of teaching the Englishmen a lesson.