At length we finished our simple meal--when you are very hungry it
takes a long time to fill oneself with squashy pumpkin, which is why I
suppose ruminants and other grazing animals always seem to be eating--
and washed it down with water in preference to the sticky-looking milk
which we left to the natives.
"Allan," said Brother John to me in a low voice as we lit our pipes,
"that man who stood with his back to us in front of the gridiron was
the Kalubi. Against the firelight I saw the gap in his hand where I
cut away the finger."
"Well, if we want to get any further, you must cultivate him," I
answered. "But the question is, shall we get further than--that grid?
I believe we have been trapped here to be eaten."
Before Brother John could reply, Komba arrived, and after inquiring
whether our appetites had been good, intimated that the Kalubi and
head men were ready to receive us. So off we went with the exception
of Jerry, whom we left to watch our things, taking with us the
presents we had prepared.
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