h flew unerringly from his how. At his side was a young lad,
younger by three years than Master Selim is; he was tall, straight, and
slender as one of the light assegais he threw so dexterously and quickly
into the crowds who were pressing onward towards the King. Kisesa
himself was with us, and on seeing the matchless spirit and bearing of
the boy, he shouted, `Kill Mostana, but save the boy. Fifty cloths to
him who brings me Kalulu alive.' I am a Mrori, and I loved that boy for
his bravery the first time I saw him, and I determined to save him, if
possible for Kisesa and at the same time get the fifty cloths. A shield
belonging to one of Mostana's men lay on the ground; I snatched it up,
and defending my body with it, I cried out to Kalulu in Kirori that I
was his friend and wished to save him. The boy, surprised for a moment,
desisted, but seeing me advance hurriedly towards him, and fearing that
I only wished to do him harm, he hurled another light spear at me. So
true was the boy's aim, he hit the centre of the shield and pinned my
hand to it, and at the same moment I saw his father fall across the
threshold of his house. I heard the boy give one wild shriek, and then
saw him disappear inside; but darting forward, heedless of the pain in
my arm, I arrived at the door of the house, only in time, however, to
see him escape by another door, that led outside of the royal quarters.
I saw him take a hasty look, and, as if the coast was clear and no
danger to be apprehended, shoot off like an arrow, and the head-dress of
fish-eagle feathers he wore streamed behind him straight, so swift were
his feet. I permitted him to spring to the palisade, but before he
could well clear himself of its tall posts I laid hold of his feet; but
not for long, however. As the fiery lad clung with one hand, he used
the other in threatening to strike me, and the spears of the Warori are
sometimes dangerous. When I released him, quicker than the black
leopard of the jungles of Kawendi, or the ever-jumping monkey of Sowa,
he sprang over the posts, and picking himself up, he raced away for
liberty as if for life. But I am a Mrori too, and I am not to be
outdone by a boy, even though he were sired by Mostana; so snatching the
assegai, which hitherto had pinned my hand to the shield, I tossed the
shield over to the other side, and sprang after it myself. It did not
take long for me to catch the fugitive; he had just entered the belt of