I feel----"

"Eat the cake," I answered. "And why do you wish to kill us? Be so good
as to tell me the truth now, or I shall read it in the magic shield
which portrays the inside as well as the out," and lifting the cloth I
stared at the glass.

"If you can read my thoughts, white lord, why trouble me to tell them?"
asked Babemba sensibly enough, his mouth full of biscuit. "Still, as
that bright thing may lie, I will set them out. Bausi, king of our
people, has sent me to kill you, because news has reached him that you
are great slave dealers who come hither with guns to capture the Mazitus
and take them away to the Black Water to be sold and sent across it
in big canoes that move of themselves. Of this he has been warned by
messengers from the Arab men. Moreover, we know that it is true, for
last night you had with you many slaves who, seeing our spears, ran away
not an hour ago."

Now I stared hard at the looking-glass and answered coolly:

"This magic shield tells a somewhat different story. It says that your
king, Bausi, for whom by the way we have many things as presents, told
you to lead us to him with honour, that we might talk over matters with
him."

The shot was a good one. Babemba grew confused.

"It is true," he stammered, "that--I mean, the king left it to my
judgment. I will consult the witch-doctor."

"If he left it to your judgment, the matter is settled," I said, "since
certainly, being so great a noble, you would never try to murder those
of whose holy drink you have just partaken. Indeed if you did so," I
added in a cold voice, "you would not live long yourself. One secret
word and that drink will turn to _mwavi_ of the worst sort inside of
you."

"Oh! yes, white lord, it is settled," exclaimed Babemba, "it is settled.
Do not trouble the secret word. I will lead you to the king and you
shall talk with him. By my head and my father's spirit you are safe from
me. Still, with your leave, I will call the great doctor, Imbozwi,
and ratify the agreement in his presence, and also show him the magic
shield."

So Imbozwi was sent for, Jerry taking the message. Presently he arrived.
He was a villainous-looking person of uncertain age, humpbacked like
the picture of Punch, wizened and squint-eyed. His costume was of
the ordinary witch-doctor type being set off with snake skins, fish
bladders, baboon's teeth and little bags of medicine. To add to his
charms a broad strip of pigment, red ochre probabl