These huts were situated in the
Soldiers' Quarter, not far from the king's house and surrounded by an
inner fence to keep them private.
None of the people spoke as we passed them, for the Mazitu are polite
by nature; also it seemed to me that they regarded us with awe
tempered by curiosity. They only stared, and occasionally those of
them who were soldiers saluted us by lifting their spears. The huts
into which we were introduced by Babemba, with whom we had grown very
friendly, were good and clean.
Here all our belongings, including the guns which we had collected
just before the slaves ran away, were placed in one of the huts over
which a Mazitu mounted guard, the donkeys being tied to the fence at a
little distance. Outside this fence stood another armed Mazitu, also
on guard.
"Are we prisoners here?" I asked of Babemba.
"The king watches over his guests," he answered enigmatically. "Have
the white lords any message for the king whom I am summoned to see
this night?"
"Yes," I answered. "Tell the king that we are the brethren of him who
more than a year ago cut a swelling from his body, whom we have
arranged to meet here.
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