“Oh! no,” I replied cheerfully, “plenty are worse off.”

“Then, Mr. Quatermain, it must be because they cannot feel.  Did you ever have a father whom you loved?”

“Yes, Miss Inez.  He is dead, but he was a very good man, a kind of saint.  Ask my servant, the little Hottentot Hans; he will tell you about him.”

“Ah! a very good man.  Well, as you may have guessed, mine is not, though there is much good in him, for he has a kind heart, and a big brain.  But the drink and those women down there, they ruin him,” and she wrung her hands.

“Why don’t you go away?” I blurted out.

“Because it is my duty to stop.  That is what my religion teaches me, although of it I know little except through books, who have seen no priest for years except one who was a missionary, a Baptist, I think, who told me that my faith was false and would lead me to hell.  Yes, not understanding how I lived, he said that, who did not know that hell is here.  No, I cannot go, who hopes always that still God and the Saints will show me how to save my father, even though it be with my blood.  And now I have said too much to you who are quite a stranger.  Yet, I do not know why, I feel that you will not betray me, and what is more, that you will help me if you can, since you are not one of those who drink, or——­” and she waved her hand towards the huts.

“I have my faults, Miss Inez,” I answered.

“Yes, no doubt, else you would be a saint, not a man, and even the saints had their faults, or so I seem to remember, and became saints by repentance and conquering them.  Still, I am sure that you will help me if you can.”

Then with a sudden flash of her dark eyes that said more than all her words, she turned and left me.

Here’s a pretty kettle of fish, thought I to myself as I strolled back to the waggon to see how things were going on there, and how to get the live fish out of the kettle before they boil or spoil is more than I know.  I wonder why fate is always finding me such jobs to do.

Even as I thought thus a voice in my heart seemed to echo that poor girl’s words—­because it is your duty—­and to add others to them—­woe betide him who neglects his duty.  I was appointed to try to hook a few fish out of the vast kettle of human woe, and therefore I must go on hooking.  Meanwhile this particular problem seemed beyond me.  Perhaps Fate would help, I reflected.  As a matter of fact, in the end Fate did, if Fate is the right word to use in this connection.

CHAPTER VI

THE SEA-COW HUNT

Now it had been my intention to push forward across the river at once, but here luck, or our old friend, Fate, was against me.  To begin with several of Umslopogaas’ men fell sick with a kind of stomach trouble, arising no doubt from something they had eaten.  This, however, was not their view, or that of Umslopogaas himself.  It happened that one of these men, Goroko by name, who practised as a witch-doctor in his lighter moments, naturally suspected that a spell had been cast upon them, for such people see magic in everything.