| caption: |
Chapter fourteen. Things That Go Bump in the Night. |
| caption: |
thief mistaken for a devil |
| text: |
Another apparition was certainly earthly. I was away, (114) Hozekiemba was in charge of the camp, and one night he called in the blacksmith - a skinny, impoverished man who often did odd jobs for us - to bear him company. To cheer the long evening, the smith went off to the village to fetch a pot of beer. He was on his way back with it and nearing the bungalow, when he almost collided with a dark form which rushed on him out of the night. He clutched the pot to him and ran like a deer for the lines, convinced that he had barely escaped the devil; and the fiend no doubt ran just as fast in the other direction, taking half a tin of my best white kerosine with him - the only theft ever made from the bungalow. |
