'
"Then he ran to his spear, snatched it from the ground and vanished
among the reeds. That was the last I saw, or am ever likely to see, of
him."
"But, Brother John, you got the flower somehow."
"Yes, Allan. About a week later when I came out of my tent one
morning, there it was standing in a narrow-mouthed, earthenware pot
filled with water. Of course I meant that he was to send me the plant,
roots and all, but I suppose he understood that I wanted a bloom. Or
perhaps he dared not send the plant. Anyhow, it is better than
nothing."
"Why did you not go into the country and get it for yourself?"
"For several reasons, Allan, of which the best is that it was
impossible. The Mazitu swear that if anyone sees that flower he is put
to death. Indeed, when they found that I had a bloom of it, they
forced me to move to the other side of the country seventy miles away.
So I thought that I would wait till I met with some companions who
would accompany me. Indeed, to be frank, Allan, it occurred to me that
you were the sort of man who would like to interview this wonderful
beast that bites off people's fingers and frightens them to death,"
and Brother John stroked his long, white beard and smiled, adding,
"Odd that we should have met so soon afterwards, isn't it?"
"Did you?" I replied, "now did you indeed? Brother John, people say
all sorts of things about you, but I have come to the conclusion that
there's nothing the matter with your wits.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41