up in stinking death, and until Ewa M'faba himself went out,
nothing but ill-fortune should come to the N'gombi-Isisi.

Thus M'bisibi predicted, and the word went up and down the river, for
the prophet was old and accounted wise even by Bosambo of the Ochori.

It came to Hamilton quickly enough, and he had sent Bones post-haste to
await the advent of any unfortunate youngster who was tactless enough to
put in an appearance at such an inauspicious moment as would fulfil the
prediction of M'bisibi.

And Bones had gone to the wrong village, and that in the face of his
steersman's and his sergeant's protest that he was going wrong.
Fortunately, by reliable account, no child had been born in the village,
and the prediction was unfulfilled.

"Otherwise," said Hamilton, "its young life would have been on your
head."

"Yes, sir," said Bones.

"I didn't tell you there were two villages called Inkau," Hamilton
confessed, "because I didn't realize you were chump enough to go to the
wrong one."

"No, sir," agreed Bones, patiently.

"Naturally," said Hamilton, "I thought the idea of saving the lives of
innocent babes would have been sufficient incentive."

"Naturally, sir," said Bones, with forced geniality.

"I've come to one conclusion about you, Bones," said Hamilton.

"Yes, sir," said Bones, "that I'm an ass, sir, I think?"

Hamilton nodded--it was too hot to speak.

"It was an interestin' conclusion," said Bones, thoughtfully, "not
without originality--when it first occurred to you, but as a conclusion,
if you will pardon my criticism, sir, if you will forgive me for
suggestin' as much--in callin' me an ass, sir: apart from its bein'
contrary to the spirit an' letter of the Army Act--God Save the
King!--it's a bit low, sir." And he left his superior officer without
another word. For three days they sat at breakfast, tiffin and dinner,
and neither said more than:

"May I pass you the bread, sir?"

"Thank you, sir; have you the salt, sir?"

Hamilton was so busy a man that he might have forgotten the feud, but
for the insistence of Bones, who never lost an opportunity of reminding
his No. 1 that he was mortally hurt.

One night, dinner had reached the stage where two young officers of
Houssas sat primly side by side on the verandah sipping their coffee.
Neither spoke, and the seance might have ended with the conventional
"Good night" and that punctilious salute which Bones invariably gave,
and which Hamilton