ambo," said the man who limped, "N'gori the chief, my father,
has sent me, for he desires your friendship and help; also your loving
countenance at his great feast."

"Oh, oh!" said Bosambo, drily, "what king's feast is this?"

"Lord," rejoined the other, "it is no king's feast, but a great dance of
rejoicing, for our crops are very plentiful, and our goats have
multiplied more than a man can count; therefore my father said: Go you
to Bosambo of the Ochori, he who was once my enemy and now indeed my
friend. And say to him 'Come into my city, that I may honour you.'"

Bosambo thought.

"How can your lord and father feast so many as I would bring?" he asked
thoughtfully, as he sat, chin on palm, pondering the invitation, "for I
have a thousand spearmen, all young men and fond of food."

M'fosa's face fell.

"Yet, Lord Bosambo," said he, "if you come without your spearmen, but
with your counsellors only----"

Bosambo looked at the limper, through half-closed eyes. "I carry spears
to a Dance of Rejoicing," he said significantly, "else I would not Dance
or Rejoice."

M'fosa showed his teeth, and his eyes were filled with hateful fires. He
left the Ochori with bad grace, and was lucky to leave it at all, for
certain men of the country, whom he had put to torture (having captured
them fishing in unauthorized waters), would have rushed him but for
Bosambo's presence.

His other invitation was more successful. Hamilton of the Houssas was at
the Isisi city when the deputation called upon him.

"Here's a chance for you, Bones," he said.

Lieutenant Tibbetts had spent a vain day, fishing in the river with a
rod and line, and was sprawling under a deck-chair under the awning of
the bridge.

"Would you like to be the guest of honour at N'gori's little
thanksgiving service?"

Bones sat up.

"Shall I have to make a speech?" he asked cautiously.

"You may have to respond for the ladies," said Hamilton. "No, my dear
chap, all you will have to do will be to sit round and look clever."

Bones thought awhile.

"I'll bet you're putting me on to a rotten job," he accused, "but I'll
go."

"I wish you would," said Hamilton, seriously. "I can't get the hang of
M'fosa's mind, ever since you treated him with such leniency."

"If you're goin' to dig up the grisly past, dear old sir," said a
reproachful Bones, "if you insist recalling events which I hoped, sir,
were hidden in oblivion, I'm going to bed."

He got up, this l