unpleasant scene was in progress.

To a small tree that grew there was tied a man, whom from the fashion
of his hair Alan knew to belong to the Coast negroes, while two great
fellows, evidently of another tribe, flogged him unmercifully with hide
whips.

"Ah!" exclaimed Jeekie, "that the kettle I hear sing. Think you better
taken him off the fire, my Lord, or he boil over. Also his brothers no
seem to like that music," and he pointed to a number of other men who
were standing round watching the scene with sullen dissatisfaction.

"A matter of camp discipline," muttered Aylward. "This man has disobeyed
orders."

By now Jeekie was shouting something to the natives in an unknown
tongue, which they seemed to understand well enough. At any rate the
flogging ceased, the two fellows who were inflicting it slunk away, and
the other men ran towards them, shouting back as they came.

"All right, Major. You please stop here one minute with my Lord, late
Bart. of Bloody Hand. Some of these chaps friends of mine, I meet them
Old Calabar while we get ready to march last rains. Now I have little
talk with them and find out thing or two."

Aylward began to bluster about interference with his servants and so
forth. Jeekie turned on him with a very ugly grin, and showing his white
teeth, as was his fashion when he grew fierce.

"Beg pardon, Right Honourable Lord," he said, or rather snarled, "you