Three of the bore hide shields and spears, which Bob knew to be those given him and his comrades by Chief Ruku-Ru upon their into the as warriors. The bearers carried no such war . And these had been taken from the baggage. The others handled wicked-appearing clubs studded with , such as sometimes were used in battling smaller animals.  
All six were the tallest and best formed amongst the bearers. And hastily though they had bedaubed themselves, yet the job had been thorough-going. As he looked at the grinning mask on the chest of the tallest who was to the role of leader, Bob involuntarily.
 
So noiseless had been the entry of the party into the tent that and Frank still slept soundly and Wimba, who knew the location of every object in the tent, experienced no difficulty in collecting the automatics lying close to each . Bob nodded approval. Here was something of which he had failed to take account. Good for Wimba. He wasn’t taking any chances on having his men potted before explanations could be made.
 
Then Wimba with a toe stirred first Jack and then Frank, and as they opened their eyes Bob composed his features into a glare of angry surprise in keeping with the role he had set himself to act.
 
Both newly-roused boys struggled upright, as did Bob. And beside each a with knobbed club threateningly upraised sprang to take his place. Fear written in every feature, Wimba stood in the middle of the tent, gazing from one to the other of the boys and trying to speak, but experiencing difficulty, , in emitting any sound at all. He was the picture of a man in mortal terror. And Bob almost forgot himself and the part he must play, in his delight at Wimba’s histrionic abilities.
 
As for Jack and Frank, so real did it all seem to them that there was no thought in their minds but what a terrible had befallen the party. The camp had been raided, and at the very moment when they believed themselves in friendly territory and had not considered it necessary to post guards. Wimba was a prisoner. And some ghastly fate awaited themselves. Jack and Frank both were pale. And seeing them glance about wildly, as if in search of their revolvers, Bob was pleased that Wimba’s forethought had removed the weapons from reach.
 
Before either Frank or Jack could speak, Bob took charge of the situation. Glaring as the black warrior towering above him with upraised club, who glared just as ferociously at him in return, Bob shouted to Wimba:
 
“What’s the meaning of this, Wimba?”
 
“Him Bone Crusher’s warriors, baas,” returned the latter in tones of purest terror. “Oh, baas, save Wimba.”
 
“The Bone Crusher’s men?” shouted Bob. “Why, we left their vicinity days ago.”
 
“Very angry clan,” returned Wimba. “They follow. Say white young men spoil their plans. So now they capture white young men.”
 
Bob , and casting a glance of despair toward Jack and Frank, he added in a husky voice: “This looks tough, fellows. If we’d only kept a guard.”
 
“Can’t we fight ’em.” Frank was shaky-voiced but game.
 
“I’d be the last fellow to hold back,” said Bob. “But what chance would we have? Cumbered up in these blankets and without weapons? We’d just get our heads split open.”
 
“Wh—what of father and Niellsen?” asked Jack. He was terrified and showed it. And who could blame him? Nevertheless, his thought was not for himself but his father.
 
“I’m prisoner, too, baas,” said Wimba, mournfully.
 
Jack groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Look here, Wimba,” said Bob, “ask that big chief what they intend to do with us, and when they’re going to begin.”
 
Wimba and the majestic-looking leader of the war party rapidly in the Kikuyu tongue. Then Wimba turned to Bob. There was respect in the tone with which he addressed him.
 
“Um Bone Crusher’s men say Mikalwa great fighter. Bone Crusher gone, so they want Mikalwa for chief.”
 
“What? Who’s Mikalwa? Me?”
 
Wimba nodded. And the tall leader approached Bob and bowed low before him.
 
“Fine,” shouted Bob, leaping to his feet. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll just order yo............