Witch-Doctors | Page 9

the coolest portion of the screened verandah. On the table beside him was a tall glass, a decanter of cognac and a box of cigars; and suspended from the roof swung a canvas bag of water with a syphon attachment. A gape fly, which somehow had gotten through the screen, hit the lieutenant's forehead, fell on to the book and whirred up against the wire.
"Ach, Gott verdammt!" exclaimed zu Pfeiffer irritably and shouted: "Ho, Bakunja--la." Instantly appeared the tall negro in white. "You son of a god! Look at that!"
Bakunjala looked, leaped, and caught the fly in his hand.
"Ow!" he exclaimed as the hornet stung him.
"Ach, you woman of shame, catch it instantly!"
Without hesitation Bakunjala made another grab, and clutching the fly tightly, made to open the screen door.
"Halt!" commanded the lieutenant.
Bakunjala obeyed.
Zu Pfeiffer regarded the man standing with the wasp sting buried in his palm with a slight smile of amusement.
"It hurts?" he inquired amiably.
"Indio, Bwana!" asserted Bakunjala.
"Good! Now stop there."
Motionless remained the negro. Zu Pfeiffer leisurely selected a fresh cigar, lighted it, stoked it, and inhaling smoke stroked his left moustache.
"It still hurts?"
"Indio, Bwana!" said Bakunjala with a high note in his voice.
"Splendid!" assured the lieutenant: and after a full minute added: "Now you may go. And remember if you are frightened of a fly's pain again I will give you twenty lashes."
"Indio, Bwana," answered Bakunjala humbly and departed swiftly with the hornet in his clenched fist. Zu Pfeiffer smiled, again stared reflectively at the violet shadows creeping lazily across the square, sipped some brandy and picking up his book, began to read.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}
"Excellence!"
Zu Pfeiffer frowned and looked round. Outside the screen stood Sergeant Schultz at the salute. Zu Pfeiffer nodded.
"Well?"
"Excellence," said the sergeant at attention, "the Englishman is here."
"Ach, tell him to go----" The lieutenant drew out his gold chronometer. "It is my bath time. I cannot see him."
"Ja, Excellence."
"Wait." Zu Pfeiffer withdrew his legs and rose. "Ach, tell the fool to come over here and wait till I have had my bath."
"Excellence!" agreed the sergeant and saluting, marched away. Zu Pfeiffer entered the bungalow. Across the square came Birnier with the sergeant who ushered him into the screened portion of the verandah.
"His Excellence gom bresently," said the sergeant and left him.
Birnier put his Tirai hat on the table, and seeing no other, sat in the Bombay chair; looked about him; idly examined the brand on the box of cigars and smiled. "Makes himself mighty comfortable," he remarked to himself. "Pity he appears such a boor." He glanced at the book on the armchair. Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie von Prof. Dr. Paul Deussen. "And a philosopher, eh!" Having little German he turned away and lighted his pipe. After a while he began to fidget, wondering how long he was to be kept waiting. "Damn the fellow!" he muttered and picked up one of the books on the table, Les Ba-Rongas, par A. Junod, opened it at random and began to read.
The shadows of one bungalow reached the verandah on the opposite side of the square. And still he read on, the dead pipe in his hand. Just as the twilight was snuffed out like a candle, a sharp step heralded the arrival of the lieutenant. Birnier rose, the book in his hand.
"Good evening, sir!"
"Good evening," responded zu Pfeiffer, who was in an undress uniform of white. "What is it that you require?"
"Well," said Birnier, "first of all I must apologise for using your chair and reading your book. Most interesting, by the way."
"That is nothing," said zu Pfeiffer as Bakunjala came in with a lamp and a chair. "Please to be seated."
"Thank you."
Birnier took the small chair and the lieutenant the Bombay.
"I--er I--am sorry that I disturbed you this morning," began Birnier diffidently. "But I did not know----"
"That is nothing. It was the fault of the sentry. He should not have allowed you to pass."
"Regarding my application for the licence, Herr Lieutenant?"
"I regret," said zu Pfeiffer coldly, using a cigar cutter, "that I am unable to grant you the licence you ask."
"You cannot grant me a trading or shooting licence?"
"I regret, no."
Birnier stared.
"May I inquire why I am refused?"
"You may. We do not wish undesirables in the country."
"Undesirables!" Birnier's lips tightened. "I am afraid that I do not understand you." The lieutenant was engaged in carefully stoking his cigar. "Will you kindly afford me a reason for--for such an insulting remark?"
Zu Pfeiffer blew smoke luxuriously. Birnier stared for a moment, stuck his pipe in his mouth and bit the stem; removed it and snapped:
"You can have no adequate reason for such action.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} If you intend to continue this ridiculous farce I shall be compelled to make a complaint through Washington."
"Washington?" Zu Pfeiffer removed one leg from the chair-rest and the cigar from his mouth. "You are