THE RADIO STOLEN
Chief Ungaba’s party promised to be like several other similar
functions to which the boys and Mr. Hampton had been bidden as
guests by other friendly chiefs. For when they arrived, they found
the select two dozen guests of the chief already seated in a circle
around a huge iron cauldron filled with foaming, milky, African
beer, while farther off in the village square blazed a number of
fires around which the village proletariat were gathered to eat the
meat of the rhino and drink their home brewed liquor.
Places were made for Mr. Hampton and the boys in the circle about
Chief Ungaba’s select cauldron. And each was provided with a pliant
length of hollow cane. Every guest had such a “straw,” and these
they dipped into the cauldron at frequent intervals, sucking through
them great mouthsful of beer.
Let it be said at once, so that there may be no misconception, that
Mr. Hampton, Niellsen and the boys did not indulge. Too well they
knew that outright refusal would wound the feelings of the chief
deeply, and would bring down upon their heads such a weight of
displeasure that their stay in the region undoubtedly would be only
shortlived. Therefore, they accepted the straws and even rested them
in the cauldron, but without drinking.
This deception, however, was not discovered. For already the party
had been in progress more than an hour, and the guests were becoming
uproarious and were little likely to pay much attention to the white
visitors.
At frequent intervals one or other of the guests would leap to his
feet and begin to dance around the circle, lifting his knees high
and prancing. More and more often the performer of the moment would
not confine himself to dancing, but would also burst into song.
A wild scene it made, as the light of the cooking fires in the
square played ruddily on the mud walls of the huts nearby and the
thatched roofs circular and running up to a peak from which
projected the long center pole of the dwelling. And for a time the
boys found this picture of primitive men indulging in a celebration
rather fascinating.
But before long the dancers and singers became so wild in their
bearing that it became evident they would soon descend into a
bestial orgy, and the boys found it difficult to keep their disgust
from showing on their faces. Presently Mr. Hampton whispered to
Jack, who sat nearest him, and who in turn passed the word to the
others, that he considered it time to withdraw. Which they did
without further ado, making their way out of the circle without
attracting the attention of the Kavirondos.
As they passed Chief Ungaba, however, Mr. Hampton paused to converse
with him, and the chief got unsteadily to his feet. When informed
that the whites planned to leave at an early hour the next morning,
he displayed sincere regret. And after finding his pleas that they
remain with him a while longer prove of no avail, he promised to be
on hand to see them depart.
As they returned to their tent, Mr. Hampton commented sorrowfully
upon the failure of civilization to penetrate the wilds and break
down bestial customs by providing the natives with better things.
“Some day, of course, it will come,” he said, as they reached the
boys’ tent, “but as yet civilization has not gone very far into the
African wilds.”
Saying goodnight, he and Niellsen passed on toward their own tent,
a-gleam in the moonlight a short distance beyond, while the boys
lifted the flap and went in, Jack who led first shooting the rays of
his pocket flashlight inside—a precaution which they never failed to
observe when entering a dark tent in order to discover whether
snakes had taken possession in their absence.
No snakes were to be seen. But as the rays of the flashlight passed
over the various objects of the interior, Jack uttered a cry of
dismay.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Frank, at his shoulder.
Disappearing into the tent without replying, Jack found and lighted
a lantern. Then he turned to his two comrades who had pressed after
him, and swinging the lantern so that its rays fell into the corner
where their little radio station had been set up, he pointed.
“Gone,” he said.
“Gone,” echoed Bob and Frank, as with one voice, in a tone of
stupefaction.
It was true. Where their radio set had stood was now nothing but
bare space.
For a moment or two, all three boys were too bewildered to speak.
All they could do was to stare.
Then Bob became energized, and sprang for the tent flap.
“Where are you going?” demanded Frank.
“To tell Mr. Hampton,” Bob replied.
“Let’s see what else is missing first. Evidently there’s been a
thief here.”
Bob turned back and helped in the rapid inspection of the tent. None
of their possessions was missing except the radio.
“Funny a Negro should take that,” mused Jack, as they looked at each
other in growing puzzlement. “Most of them who have seen us use it
look on it as a white man’s magic and wouldn’t touch it with a
ten-foot pole.”
“I’ll say it’s funny,” said Bob darkly. “Do you know what I think?”
“No. What?”
Bob looked around and lowering his voice drew his two comrades
toward him while he whispered: “Mabele.”
Jack looked at him in stupefaction. But Frank’s alert eyes displayed
complete understanding, and he nodded emphatically.
“That’s it. Remember what your father said, Jack, when he discovered
Mabele at least had been in a position to overhear us discussing Mr.
Ransome and the trouble amongst the natives in that Mountains of the
Moon region, whether he actually had heard anything or not?”
“That’s right,” said Jack. And now his glance grew worried. “Let’s
tell father at once.”
“You tell him,” said Bob. “I’ll go over to the bearers’ camp and see
whether Mabele is around.”
“You aren’t afraid?”
“Huh.” Bob tapped his ever-ready automatic. “Besides, we mustn’t
lose any time on this. My opinion is that the beggar’s decamped. If
he has, we’ll want to pick up his trail as soon as possible.”
“But what in the world would he steal the radio for?” asked Frank.
“I don’t know,” said Bob. “But we can puzzle over that later. The
first thing is to find out if our suspicions that it was he are
correct.”
“You’re right, Bob,” said Frank. “And I’ll go with you, for on a job
of this kind two are better than one. Jack in the meantime can carry
word to his father and Niellsen.”