Bones of the River - Edgar Wallace [43]
“When the young she-leopard claws,” said the woman, giving him her mystery, “must you wait for the scratches to heal and then go forth and be clawed again?”
“My answer to your riddle is this,” said Fobolo, who had solved such enigmas before, “that it is better that the leopard should die that he will claw no more.”
This clawing leopard was a popular illustration in a land where the favour of men is shown by a ring of brass, and their displeasure is scored deeply on the shoulders of their women.
Whilst Fobolo went into his house, the woman wandered along the beach. And she came at last to a compound on the wooded promontory where there were many dogs. And two at least she recognised.
She went back to the beach before Fobolo’s hut, and after a while he came to her empty-handed.
“Woman,” he said, “this is in my mind. That little leopards may die and nobody shall speak. But if the leopard be great, then shall everybody speak and say, ‘Last night this leopard was alive: today he is dead,’ and then Sandi will come and there will be a palaver and perhaps a woman who talks, and Fobolo’s hut will be fire and he will be a ghost in the trees. Therefore, go back to your leopard and let him scratch.”
Shamelessly he retained the present she had brought him.
The wife of the king went home sick with fright, and that night when her husband returned she told him a lie.
“Lord, this day I went fishing through the River-that-the-N’gombi-found, and there I saw Fobolo with many dogs. And of these there were two which were like the fat man dog Cheepi that you loved.”
It was the very worst luck for all concerned that Bosambo, paramount chief of the Ochori, should have taken into his head the idea of paying a state visit to the Isisi king at that particular moment. N’Kema, with two war canoes, had put out from his beach en route to recover his stolen dogs, when Bosambo’s flotilla swept into sight round the bend of the river. With Bosambo were fifty excellent spearsmen, for the chief of the Ochori was by no means certain that the invitation which the Isisi had extended to him was purely disinterested.
At the sight of Bosambo’s painted canoes, N’Kema and his fellows stopped paddling, for Bosambo was notoriously a creature of Sandi, and it was essential for N’Kema’s peace of mind that his affair with the dog-stealer should be settled without publicity.
He had hoped that the canoes would pass, but Bosambo was a man with very keen eyesight.
“I see you, N’Kema,” he boomed as his canoe drew alongside the others. “Is there war or peace in this land, that you go out with your young spearsmen?”
“Bosambo, I came out to meet you, for, as you know, the people of the Akasava love you. And besides, I am going to the Great Lake to fish.”
“It seems to me,” said Bosambo, “that I see many shields at the bottom of your canoes. Now, tell me this, N’Kema: do men fish with shields?”
Whereupon Mr N’Kema, who lacked the natural gift of lying, spoke frankly of the outrage which had been committed, and of his desire to execute summary justice upon the robber.
“I will see this Fobolo,” said Bosambo instantly. “And be sure, N’Kema, that justice will be done. For, as you know, we men of the Ochori do not eat dogs; therefore it is certain that we shall return all we find.”
N’Kema knew this to be true. For some extraordinary reason, to the Southern Ochori people dog meat was taboo.
“But, Bosambo,” he protested, “how may you know which are my beautiful dogs if I am not there to call them by loving words, and tell you that this is mine and this is not mine?”
“And if you say that all are yours,” said Bosambo, “how do I know that you speak the truth? N’Kema, I will go alone and hold a palaver, and in the end word of this matter will be sent to Sandi, who judges all, like God.”
Bosambo, who had an amazing knowledge of the country, found the Little River without difficulty, and at the noon hour, when Fobolo was asleep in the shadow of his hut, Bosambo came to him and there was a long palaver, which could