And this was the story of the chief, slowly put together out of these talks--

"I am Muata the chief. The kraal of my house is toward the setting sun, but the fire no longer burns on the hearth. The men-robbers fell upon the place in the early morning. The people were scattered like goats before the lion. Many were taken by the men-robbers, and many were slain; and among them my father.

"The chief's wife, my mother, fled with me into the Great Forest.

Many days she lived on roots, and the 'little people' found her in her wanderings. They took her by crooked paths far from the land of her people. Ohe!

"Through the dark woods--through the dark and terrible woods, through the mist and the rain, with much pain, she followed them as they went before her like shadows. And in the folds of her blanket she bore me on her back. It is true.

"She was straight as the palm when she fled from the kraal, and when after long journeying she set me down at the hiding-place, she was thin and bent. Thin and bent was the chief's wife, she who had maidens to wait on her.

"At the hiding-place in the forest there were people whose kraals had been burnt by the men-robbers. Outcasts they were, of many tribes, living together without a chief; but the place was fat, and they grew fat, being without spirit.

"And Muata the child played with other children and grew. He grew on the fatness of the land, and when he could walk, his playmates were the young of the jackal; his playthings were the bow and the spear.

"Ohe! Muata grew to strength like the lion's cub in the knowledge of the hunt. She, even his mother, taught him to follow the trail, showed him the leaf bruised by the foot of a man traveling, showed him the tracks of the beasts, taught him the cries of the animals.

"She rubbed the oil into his skin, set him to hurl the spear, to shaft the arrow, to hit the mark; set him to run and swim, to creep like a snake, to bound like the buck.

"So Muata grew in the ways of a hunter; and when the men of the place went on the hunt, Muata went with them--went as a hunter, and the hut of his mother had meat to spare.

"Then the chief's wife took the boy to the headmen, and the witch- doctors. They drew on his body the sign of the otter--he who is cunning and brave, who is at home on land or in the water. They made him a warrior, he who was a boy, because there was always meat in the hut of his mother.

"But his mother spoke. 'O Muata, hunter of the wild pig, take your spear and your bow, and the quiver of arrows with the iron heads.

You will hunt men.' Thus it came that Muata went alone on the war- trail. With him went his mother, who carried the pots and the sleeping-mat, she who carried nothing at her kraal.

"The trail led into the Great Forest toward the rising sun, and there were dangers between the sunrise and its setting--dangers between the setting of the sun and its rising.

"A man-ape of great stature, hairy and fierce, stood before us in the path. He lifted his brows at us, and bared his teeth. Muata was afraid, but his mother called to him softly--called to him not to run, called to him to drive this thing from her path.

"Muata notched an arrow and smote the man-ape in the neck. Yoh! He stood like a man upright, and roared. His roar was like the roar of a lion in pain. Foam came from his lips, and his eyes were fierce.

"The knees of Muata shook; his blood was like water. He was afraid, but his mother laughed and cracked her fingers. The man-ape drew near, but she stood--she the chief's wife. So Muata the boy notched an arrow, and would have loosened it, but she spoke--'Let him come still nearer, O warrior.'

"Muata grew stronger at the word. The man-ape came nearer. Three paces away he stood--and his head was above the head of Muata, his arms were like a young tree, and the chest was like the chest of two men. He opened his mouth and the arrow flew into his throat, bit deep till the point stood out behind. He clutched the shaft with his hands, rocked, and fell, and Muata, taking his spear, thrust it between the great ribs.

"Yoh! the man-ape was dead, and the chief's wife broke the great teeth from the jaw, and cut off the hairs above the eyes. She burnt them, and mixed them with his blood, for Muata to drink. Muata drank and was strong.

"So those two pa.s.sed through the forest, through the silent dark of the woods, in pain and hunger. Pa.s.sed out into the plains where there were kraals and yellow men in white coverings.

"And the chiefs wife spoke: 'Behold, it is for this I have suffered much for thee, Muata. What I have sown in sorrow and pain I will reap in your strength. Look and look again! Those are of the race who destroyed the kraals of your people. They are men-hunters, kraal-burners, slayers of children. Steal upon them where they walk idly, and for each arrow slay a man.'

"Muata waited on these men a day and a night, and when he sought his mother on the edge of the forest his quiver was empty, and the chief's wife spoke: 'Where did the arrow strike, O warrior?' And Muata answered, 'In the throat, O my mother.' And the chief's wife said again, 'It is well; but the warrior sees to it that he can recover his arrow. And your quiver is empty.' So Muata returned and recovered his arrows, for the men lay where they fell, the living having gone into the kraals in fear.

"So Muata and the chiefs wife went slowly back to the place of hiding. And because Muata had slain the man-ape and the robbers-- they who slay children--the chief's wife sought out the headmen, and spoke: 'Oh, listen! This is Muata, the son of a chief. He has slain the man-ape, and for each arrow that was in his quiver a man-robber.

It is fit that he be your chief.' But they laughed, and the chiefs wife held her peace.

"And again, after the crops were gathered, Muata went again on the war-trail alone--went to the river, followed it down the bank, and the little people led him to a kraal in the wood by the river bank-- a kraal with a high fence, the kraal of the yellow men-robbers.

Muata dived beneath the fence with a short spear in his hand. With his spear he slew the man who watched by the gate, opened the gate, and put fire to the huts. The yellow men ran, some into the forest, and there the little people found them; others fled into a canoe to cross; Muata swam after, and with his spear ripped open the bottom, so that it filled and sank.

"And again, when the place of hiding was reached, the chief's wife sought out the headmen and spoke, saying that Muata was a chief's son. They put her aside with words, saying there was no proof of this last thing he had done. But Muata whistled, and the little people came forward, saying the chiefs son had destroyed the kraal of the evil-doers. Then the headmen took counsel, and again put the chief's wife off.

"The chief's wife bowed her head, but, seeing that she was weak, and that her mind was fixed on the thing she asked for, Muata took the matter into his own hand. He bade the women prepare a big hut for his mother--he put a stick to their shoulders; and when a man sought to slay him there in the presence of them all, Muata smote the man under the arm with his spear. So they built the great hut, and women waited on the chief's wife, his mother, carried water for her, cut the wood, and built the fire.

"So Muata was chief, and year by year he led the men of the place against the yellow robbers, till the name of Muata was feared.

"The would Muata take to himself wives, and would drink beer, and grow fat; but his mother counseled with him, saying he was a boy-- saying he was only at the beginning of the path. And Muata listened, for she was wiser than all, and he set his heart on the plan she put before him to win back the land of his people.

"Thus Muata the chief was still a warrior and a hunter. He followed the spoor into the fastnesses of the woods, and trained the young of the jackal to drive the buck towards him.

"Ohe! it was ended. The evil-doers, the child-slayers, the robbers of men, sent spies into the forest, and when Muata returned from his hunting there was wailing at the kraal, and the fire was dead on the hearth. And the women cried, 'O chief, they have taken the lioness; they lured her out with tales of ill that had befallen Muata, even the young lion. So she went forth between the gates, and they, the robbers, carried her away.'

"Muata turned on his heel straightway. He sought the trail of the man-thieves. It was plain and level. It led through the forest, and by night his jackal led him on the scent. By day he followed; by night and day Muata went on the track to the river. At the river he heard news. They had gone on the river towards the setting sun.

"Muata took a canoe from the river people, and with his jackal he followed, while the sun rose and set many times, and he came to the father of rivers.

"The waters were wide, and his canoe was like a leaf carried here and there. His heart was sad, but the spirit of his mother prevailed. He followed, and a man came to him saying that the yellow men were near at hand, and sick of the sickness that shakes. Muata gathered together his strength and pushed on. Ohe! and he fell into the hands of his enemies like a child. He went among them sleeping, and when he awoke his hands and limbs were bound.

"And the enemy mocked him, saying, 'Is this Muata?' saying, 'even the ant will make him cry aloud;' and they smeared fat on him. They shook the ants over him, and they bit deep. They reviled him, they spat on him, as day by day he followed in the canoe tied to their greater canoe. They made plans about him to kill him, but the chief man said even a dog had his price. So they forebore to slay Muata, but they carried him down the father of waters to where there was a still greater canoe with wings. They put a gag into his mouth to still his voice, but in the night the jackal bit through the rope, and Muata was alone on the waters.

"Then the jackal cried suddenly, and Muata was borne out of the water, and he was fed.

"That is the story of Muata, and his heart goes out to the white men who brought him out of the darkness."

CHAPTER V

TROUBLE BREWING

That was the story of Muata!

The white boys looked and wondered. This man who had been through so many dangers could not be much older than they were. If his story were true, he had shown endurance, courage, and a force of character that set the stamp of greatness upon him as greatness would be reckoned among his kind.

Was it true that he had slain a gorilla with bow and arrow, that he warred successfully against the Arab slave-hunters? Had he subdued a band of men by sheer force of will?

The boys believed him. They did not stop to ask whether the story was probable. They formed their opinion upon the manner of the young chief--upon his grave dignity, and upon the absence of a boastful spirit.

"If his story is true," said Mr. Hume, "he owes much to his mother."

"Where is your mother?" asked Compton.

"The chief's wife is not a woman," said Muata. "And yet she is a woman. She beguiled them in the forest by pretence of great submission and fear of the woods. So they trusted her to bring firewood, believing she would not go far from the camp. But she was watching for sign of the little people. This I know, for she vanished in the woods near the river. And the yellow hunters of men knew not how she had gone; but they left word to people by the river to say to me that my mother had been carried away in a canoe."

"And what will you do now?"

"See, I am no one--a liver on kindness, a slave at the gate. But in time Muata will return to the place of hiding."