“There is a price on his bead.”

“Offered by the slave-hunters?”

The shot went home.  The officers had been hand in glove with the lawless traders, but they did not want the matter bruited about by meddlesome Englishmen.  They scowled.

“He has broken the peace,” said the senior, sharply; “he has slain the servants of the State.  Am I to understand that you claim to be his master, responsible for his conduct?”

“No, m’sieur,” exclaimed the hunter, quickly, fearing he had gone too far, and shifting his ground.  “The man is a stranger; do with him as you please; but as for us, since we are here, we will, with your permission, make the place our headquarters.  We could not be in better hands.”

“You wish to wait for another steamer while your passports are visaed?”

“We will proceed in our own boat, which we would put together.”

“Ah, you have a little boat?”

“A very small boat, m’sieur, with barely room for four men.  We should be honoured to have your opinion on its qualities, and also upon our stores and their suitability.”

Venning looked at Mr. Hume with puzzled eyes.  He could not understand his callous abandonment of Muata.

“But,” he began, “we cannot——­”

“I think it is an excellent place,” said Compton, quickly; “and perhaps these gentlemen would be good enough to assist us with advice out of their great experience.”

“We should be delighted,” said Mr. Hume, politely.

The senior officer stroked his huge moustache with an air of renewed importance.

“There are two spare rooms in my little house,” murmured the junior—­ “one for the stores, the other for sleeping quarters.”

“It is understood,” said Mr. Hume, “that we pay rent, and also that we pay for the protection you may afford us.  I insist on that, messieurs.”

The senior nodded a dignified assent, but he was not quite won over, and retired to his quarters, while his junior inspected the landing of the goods, including the sections of the boat.  In the afternoon, however, after his nap, the senior succumbed to the influence of a good cigar, and condescended to sample some of the stores.  He was even pleased to crack a few jokes over the novel machinery for working the screw of the Okapi by levers, and in the evening he invited Mr. Hume to a friendly game of cards, thoughtfully including in his invitation a bottle of brandy and a box of cigars, for, said he, he wished to wash out the execrable taste of the everlasting manioc.

All the day Muata stood bound to a post in the square, the central figure of a ring of squatting natives, who chewed manioc and discussed his approaching fate with much satisfaction.

He was there, an erect, stoical figure, when the boys sought their room in the little thatched house—­a room bare of furniture, divided from the next compartment by hanging mats of native make.