veral persons at the spot. "They can't do us any
harm," he said, and brought the glasses to bear on the canoe. "The
chap appears to be in a stew about something, from the way he
glances over his shoulder."

They sailed down towards the lonely paddler, who was soon alongside
--thanks to an extraordinary agility. He appeared to be greatly
pleased at the meeting, grinned continuously, and at once prepared
to get aboard the Okapi.

Mr. Hume, however, kept him off with a "not so fast" and a hand
against his breast.

"Talk to him, Muata. Ask him what he wants, who he is, and all the
rest."

Muata stepped into the canoe, caught up the paddle, and sat down to
palaver. A line was made fast to the canoe, and it drifted astern of
the Okapi, which kept on her course.

The canoe-man's grin faded away, and his eyes rolled as Muata
ordered him to sit. He seemed to be a river tribesman, with only a
loin-cloth on.

"Don't eat him, chief," sang out Compton; for Muata had a very ugly
look on his face as he eyed the stranger.

The man himself seemed to think there was cause for this plea on his
behalf, for, to the amazement of all, he responded in broken
English--

"Oh yeh-es, he eatee me. Poah black man come to white master for
heiup, not to wild black man."

"By Jove, he talks English! Let the poor beggar come aboard, sir."

"He's all right where he is," said Mr. Hume.

The man did not think so, and began hauling on the rope, when Mr.
Hume drew his knife and made as if he would cut the canoe loose. He
ceased from pulling, and, after a despairing look, crouched down.

"We will talk," said Muata, courteously, poising the paddle in his
hand. "How is your venerable mother?"

"She has a wonderful dish of fish and manioc for her son's guests.
You will do her the favour to eat of that dish," said the stranger,
humbly.

"And is your venerable mother's kraal up the river?"

"A sun's march distant, by a garden of bananas. Also there is a fat
goat."

"And what does her excellent son so far from the village?"

"There were tales of bad men," said the stranger, plucking up
spirit, "and these tales drew me away, for the price offered for
their capture was great, and my fetish told me where they were
hid."

"And the little son was greedy? He kept this word of his fetish from
the honourable ears of his mother, so that he would have the price
to himself, eh?"

"Truly a great chief," murmured the boatman, with reverence. "It wa