They exchanged greetings, not very cordially on either side. They were not particularly fond of the chief, whom Oakley defined as "a cruel brute, who'd cut our throats as soon as look at us, if he dared." Moreover, they were vexed that he should appear on the scene when he did, for they had received more than one hint from Kumbelwa that the Inswani looked with considerable suspicion on their collecting propensities. None but _abatagati_, or evilly disposed sorcerers, went about collecting insects and plants, it was argued--of course to work witchcraft with--and they had deemed it wise to refrain. Their position was quite risky enough without doing anything to add to its complications, and now here was one of the most influential men in the nation--and toward themselves the most hostile--entering just in time to find them capturing one of the ugliest and most vicious specimens of the insect world. What could they want with such save for purposes of witchcraft? "The King, the Great Great One, has a word unto ye two," began Dumaliso. They nodded assent. "With the firearms we have taken from the slave-hunting dogs many of the King's warriors might be armed. His `word' is that ye shall teach them to shoot, beginning with myself." "What do you think of the idea, Oakley?" said Haviland, when he had translated this to his companion, who was himself picking up a moderate knowledge of the tongue. "Seems reasonable. You see, it isn't like arming them against our own countrymen, because they'll never see any of them, and to arm them against the slave-hunters is all right. We'd better agree." "I think so too." Whereupon, turning to the chief, they expressed their willingness to organise a corps of sharpshooters among the more promising of the Inswani. "That is well," said Dumaliso, rising. "And now, O strangers, if you would see the end of this dog Mushad, the time is at hand." "Tell him we don't want to see it, Haviland. Brute as Mushad is, I don't want to see him tortured. It makes me sick." Haviland at first made no reply. He seemed to be thinking. "We will go, Oakley," he said at last. "I have got an idea or saving the poor brute from torture, at any rate."