SOME MODERN GLADIATORS
him in spirit-land; for the mob was unusually demonstrative.
"‘Keep near me and walk slow,' cautioned Tib. 'Any show of fear means the emergency ward.' Then he mopped his brow and motioned for the chief to lead us to some shade. It was coolly done, and some lone corpuscle of our host's tainted blood began to admire the old fellow's nerve, as was evinced by the swift gleam of his green eyes. It was fleeting, but we both caught it, and Tib murmured over his resolute shoulder: 'We've got him puzzled a bit. Wouldn't he make an elegant wild boy! I'd almost prefer him in a cage to a white leopard.'
"I remarked I would prefer him at the bottom of the Bango, well surrounded by his subjects, and then the assembly turned and began making away from the lake. We walked beside the chief, although he scowled and motioned for us to fall in behind. Tib pretended not to understand the hint and we kept our places in the chorus. When we came to a boggy spot and had to jump it Tib never hesitated to rest his plump hand on Feeney's shoulder for support. And the chief's rage at this familiarity was intense to witness, sir. He simply stopped and dashed his axe into a tree and let out a series of yelps you could have heard in Uganda.
"‘I'll chasten his proud spirit,' grinned Tib.
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