After this a kind of blind rage seized him and I thought he was going to kill Hans, who was of the same opinion, for he ran away. Next he staggered about, shaking his fists, cursing and shouting, till presently he fell of a heap and lay face downwards, beating his head against the ground and groaning.
Now I went to him because I must.
He saw me coming and sat up.
That's a pretty story, Quatermain, which this little yellow monkey has been gibbering at me. Man, do you understand what he says? He says that all those half-blood children of mine are dead, murdered by savages from over the Zambesi, yes, and eaten, too, with their mothers. Do you take the point? Eaten like lambs. Those fires your man saw last night were the fires on which they were cooked, my little so-and-so and so-and-so,
and he mentioned half a dozen different names. Yes, cooked, Quatermain. And that isn't all of it, they have taken Inez too. They didn't eat her, but they have dragged her off a captive for God knows what reason. I couldn't understand. The whole ship's crew is gone, except the captain absent on leave and the first officer, Thomaso, who deserted with some Lascar stokers, and left the women and children to their fate. My God, I'm going mad. I'm going mad! If you have any mercy in you, give me something to drink.
All right,
I said, I will. Sit here and wait a minute.
Then I went to the waggon and poured out a stiff tot of spirits into which I put an amazing dose of bromide from a little medicine chest I always carry with me, and thirty drops of chlorodyne on the top of it. All of this compound I mixed up with a little water and took it to him in a tin cup so that he could not see the colour.
He drank it at a gulp and throwing the pannikin aside, sat down on the veld, groaning while the company watched him at a respectful distance, for Hans had joined the others and his tale had spread like fire in drought-parched grass.
In a few minutes the drugs began to take effect upon Robertson's tortured nerves, for he rose and said quietly,
What now?
Vengeance, or rather justice,
I answered.
Yes,
he exclaimed, vengeance. I swear that I will be avenged, or die—or both.
