rly
certain it was a monkey's; but he ate no more from that particular bowl.
The tribe he was with were not above suspicion of cannibalism, and
though their hospitality was lavish, it was by no means guaranteed as
to quality.

The head-man noticed his action, and put a smiling question: "You no
like dem climb-climb chop? Tooth him plenty sore?"

"No," said Kettle, "my teeth are all in good working order, daddy,
thanks. But now you mention it, the monkey is a bit tough. Not been
stewed long enough, perhaps."

The head-man gave an order, and presently a woman at the cooking fire
outside brought another calabash into the hut, and set it at the little
sailor's feet. The head-man examined and explained: "Dem's dug chop,
too-plenty-much fine. You fit?"

"I fit," said Kettle; "that'll suit me down to the ground, daddy. Stewed
duck is just the thing I like, and palm-oil sauce isn't half bad when
you're used to it. I'll recommend your pub to my friends, old one-eye,
when I get home."

He dipped his digits into the stew, and drew forth a doubtful limb. He
regarded it with a twitching nose and critical eye.

"Thundering heavy-boned duck this, of yours, daddy."

"Me no savvy?" said his host questioningly.

"I say dem dug he got big bone. He no fit for fly. He no say
quack-quack."

"Oh, I savvy plenty," said the one-eyed man, smiling. "Dem not
quack-quack dug, dem bow-wow dug. You see him bow-wow dis morning. You
hit him with foot, so."

"Ugh," said Kettle, "dog stew, is it? Yes, I know the animal, if you say
he's the one I kicked. I had watched the brute eating garbage about the
village for half an hour, and then when he wanted to chew my leg, I hit
him. Ugh, daddy, don't you bring on these delicacies quite so sudden, or
I shall forget my table manners. African scavenger dog! And I saw him
make his morning meal. Here, Missis, for Heaven's sake take this
dish away."

The glistening black woman stepped forward, but the head-man stopped
her. There was some mistake here. He had killed the best dog in the
village for Captain Kettle's meal, and his guest for some fastidious
reason refused to eat. He pointed angrily to the figured bowl. "Dug
chop," said he. "Too-much-good. You chop him." This rejection of
excellent food was a distinct slur on his menage, and he was working
himself up into passion. "You chop dem dug chop one-time," he repeated.

The situation was growing strained, and might well culminate in
fisticuffs. Bu