They run,
they run!" and run they did indeed. "Is there anyone yonder whom you
dislike?"
"Yes, plenty," answered Babemba with emphasis, "especially that witch-
doctor who drank nearly all the holy drink."
"Very well; by-and-by I will show you how you can burn a hole in him
with this magic. No, not now, not now. For a while this mocker of the
sun is dead. Look," and dipping the glass beneath the table I produced
it back first. "You cannot see anything, can you?"
"Nothing except wood," replied Babemba, staring at the deal slip with
which it was lined.
Then I threw a dish-cloth over it and, to change the subject, offered
him another pannikin of the "holy drink" and a stool to sit on.
The old fellow perched himself very gingerly upon the stool, which was
of the folding variety, stuck the iron-tipped end of his great spear
in the ground between his knees and took hold of the pannikin. Or
rather he took hold of a pannikin and not the right one. So ridiculous
was his appearance that the light-minded Stephen, who, forgetting the
perils of the situation, had for the last minute or two been
struggling with inward laughter, clapped down his coffee on the table
and retired into the tent, where I heard him gurgling in unseemly
merriment.
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