The People of the River | Page 6

big things, for I am a
chief of great possessions, and you are a little chief, yet this time I will
wager my all."
"M'laka of the Isisi," responded Bosambo slowly, "I also am a great
chief and a relative by marriage to Sandi. Also I am a God-man
speaking white men's talk and knowing of Santa Antonio, Marki, Luki,
the blessed Timothi, and similar magics. Now this shall be the wager; if
you find a red ball you shall find a slave whose name is Bosambo of
the Ochori, but if you lose the red one you shall lose your country."
"May the sickness mango come to me if I do not speak the truth,"
swore M'laka, "but to all this I agree."
He stretched out his hand and touched the cup.
"It is here!" he shouted and lifted the cover.
There was no red ball.
M'laka was on his feet breathing quickly through his nose.
He opened his mouth to speak, but there was no need, for an Ochori
runner came panting through the street with news; before he could
reach the hut where his overlord sat and tell it, the head of Sanders'
column emerged from the forest path.
It is said that "the smell of blood carries farther than a man can see." It
had been a tactical error to kill one of Sanders' spies.
The Commissioner was stained and soiled and he was unshaven, for the
call of war had brought him by forced marches through the worst forest
path in the world.

Into the open strode the column, line after line of blue-coated Houssas,
bare-legged, sandal-footed, scarlet-headed, spreading out as smoke
spreads when it comes from a narrow barrel. Forming in two straggling
lines, it felt its way cautiously forward, for the Ochori city might hold
an enemy.
Bosambo guessed the meaning of the demonstration and hurried
forward to meet the Commissioner. At a word from Sanders the lines
halted, and midway between the city and the wood they met--Bosambo
and his master.
"Lord," said Bosambo conventionally, "all that I have is yours."
"It seems that you have your life, which is more than I expected," said
Sanders. "I know that M'laka, chief of the Lesser Isisi, is sheltering in
your village. You shall deliver this man to me for judgment."
"M'laka, I know," said Bosambo, carefully, "and he shall be delivered;
but when you speak of the chief of the Lesser Isisi you speak of me, for
I won all his lands by a certain game."
"We will talk of that later," said Sanders.
He led his men to the city, posting them on its four sides, then he
followed Bosambo to where M'laka and his headman awaited his
coming--for the guest of a chief does not come out to welcome other
guests.
"M'laka," said Sanders, "there are two ways with chiefs who kill the
servants of Government. One is a high and short way, as you know."
M'laka's eyes sought a possible tree, and he shivered.
"The other way," said Sanders, "is long and tiresome, and that is the
way for you. You shall sit down in the Village of Irons for my King's
pleasure."
"Master, how long?" asked M'laka in a shaky voice.

"Whilst you live," said Sanders.
M'laka accepted what was tantamount to penal servitude for life
philosophically--for there are worse things.
"Lord," he said, "you have always hated me. Also you have favoured
other chiefs and oppressed me. Me, you deny all privilege; yet to
Bosambo, your uncle----"
Sanders drew a long breath.
"----you give many favours, such as guns."
"If my word had not been given," said Sanders coldly, "I should hang
you, M'laka, for you are the father of liars and the son of liars. What
guns have I given Bosambo?"
"Lord, that is for you to see," said M'laka and jerked his head to the
terrifying tripod.
Sanders walked towards the instrument.
"Bosambo," he said, with a catch in his voice, "I have in mind three
white men who came to see the moon."
"Lord, that is so," said Bosambo cheerfully; "they were mad, and they
looked at the moon through this thing; also at stars."
He pointed to the innocent telescope. "And this they lost?" said
Sanders.
Bosambo nodded.
"It was lost by them and found by an Ochori man who brought it to
me," said Bosambo. "Lord, I have not hidden it, but placed it here
where all men can see it."
Sanders scanned the horizon. To the right of the forest was a broad strip
of marshland, beyond, blurred blue in the morning sunlight rose the

little hill that marks the city of the Lesser Isisi.
He stooped down to the telescope and focused it upon the hill. At its
foot was a cluster of dark