Unless, indeed, he had floated over them in a time of
great flood.
A couple of minutes or so of paddling brought us to the further shore
which, as I think I have said, was only about two hundred yards from
the mouth of the cave. The bow of the canoe grated on the bank,
disturbing a huge crocodile that vanished into the depths with an
angry plunge.
"Land, white lords, land," said Komba with the utmost politeness, "and
go, visit the god who doubtless is waiting for you. And now, as we
shall meet no more--farewell. You are wise and I am foolish, yet
hearken to my counsel. If ever you should return to the Earth again,
be advised by me. Cling to your own god if you have one, and do not
meddle with those of other peoples. Again farewell."
The advice was excellent, but at that moment I felt a hate for Komba
which was really superhuman. To me even the Motombo seemed an angel of
light as compared with him. If wishes could have killed, our farewell
would indeed have been complete.
Then, admonished by the spear points of the Pongo, we landed in the
slimy mud.
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