Next morning, as soon as it was light, he was taken out of the hut, his arms were unbound, and he was given a bunch of bananas, which he ate ravenously, surrounded by a chattering, grinning crowd of villagers, men, women, and children, who watched him curiously, making what he felt to be very personal remarks. He looked around for his companion in misfortune, but could not see him. He made signs that he was thirsty, and a girl brought him a gourd of a sweetish-bitter liquor, which he drained at a draught, and felt so silly that he wondered if he was drunk. Then there was a great shouting, and the men went away. On their departure the women drew nearer, touched his clothes and his bandolier and ran back giggling, pointed to his fair skin where his shirt was open at the neck, whereat he blushed and they shrieked. One sportive damsel tugged at the leather watch-chain attached to his belt, and screamed when his silver watch came out of its fob. He thought with a kind of fuddled amusement that he might impress them by letting them hear it tick, and when one came and tried to pull his hair, he held the watch to her ear, and she fled away screeching. What was going on? he wondered. There was a great stirring in the village. A man passed, and John saw that his face was hideously daubed with white, and his head surrounded with the skin of some animal. He carried a spear. Others similarly attired and armed came by. He got up to watch them more closely, and the spectators fell back and made a wide circle about him. Beyond them, in the centre of the village, men were thronging together. It flashed upon him in a moment: they were forming a war-party. The Swahili had come to enlist their aid. What inducements he had held out could only be guessed. Probably he had told them that a white man with great treasure was at their mercy. "Poor old Charley!" thought John: "it’ll be a miracle if he isn’t overwhelmed." For one mad moment he thought of making a dash to the gate, only to realize that he would never reach it alive. He groaned aloud, and the wretched little urchins around mocked him, booing with vast enjoyment. Then he saw the Swahili approaching with the chief in all his war-paint. They stood opposite him, talking loud and fast, with many gesticulations. They were growing angry: what were they disputing about? The Swahili pointed in the direction of the fort: the chief shook his head and shouted. Could they be discussing whether to take him with them or leave him behind? With all his heart he hoped they would decide for the former course: he might perhaps escape from them when they approached the fort. But no: presently the Swahili sullenly gave way: John guessed that he felt that numbers were against him. What was his fate to be? Was he to be held as a hostage for the due fulfilment of promises held out? He could not tell. It was clear that he was to be left in the village.