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Pollock and the Porroh Man
by
‘You’re one of those infernal fools who think a black man isn’t a human being,’ he said. ‘I can’t be ill a day without you must get into some dirty scrape or other. This is the third time in a month that you have come crossways-on with a native, and this time you’re in for it with a vengance. Porroh, too! They’re down upon you enough as it is, about that idol you wrote your silly name on. And they’re the most vindictive devils on earth! You make a man ashamed of civilisation. To think you come of a decent family! If ever I cumber myself up with a vicious, stupid young lout like you again’ —
And now a quick break from the story. It should be clear that whoever published this tale did not take the time or effort to do it correctly and to check all the text.
‘Steady on, now,’ snarled Pollock, in the tone that always exasperated Waterhouse; ‘steady on.’ Now for a break from the story. Where do you think that this came from? Another site, that’s where. Sorry if you find this annoying, but you might want to find a site that does the work instead of stealing someone else’s work.
At that Waterhouse became speechless. He jumped to his feet.
‘Look here, Pollock,’ he said, after a struggle to control his breath. ‘You must go home. I won’t have you any longer. I’m ill enough as it is through you’ —
‘Keep your hair on,’ said Pollock, staring in front of him. ‘I’m ready enough to go.’
Waterhouse became calmer again. He sat down on the camp-stool. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I don’t want a row, Pollock, you know, but it’s confoundedly annoying to have one’s plans put out by this kind of thing. I’ll come to Sulyma with you, and see you safe aboard’ —
‘You needn’t,’ said Pollock. ‘I can go alone. From here.’
‘Not far,’ said Waterhouse. ‘You don’t understand this Porroh business.’
‘How should I know she belonged to a Porroh man?’ said Pollock bitterly.
‘Well, she did,’ said Waterhouse; ‘and you can’t undo the thing. Go alone, indeed! I wonder what they’d do to you. You don’t seem to understand that this Porroh hokey-pokey rules this country, is its law, religion, constitution, medicine, magic … They appoint the chiefs. The Inquisition, at it best, couldn’t hold a candle to these chaps. He will probably set Awajale, the chief here, on to us. It’s lucky our porters are Mendis. We shall have to shift this little settlement of ours … Confound you, Pollock! And, of course, you must go and miss him.’
He thought, and his thoughts seemed disagreeable. Presently he stood up and took his rifle. ‘I’d keep close for a bit, if I were you,’ he said, over his shoulder, as he went out. ‘I’m going out to see what I can find out about it.’
Pollock remained sitting in the tent, meditating. ‘I was meant for a civilised life,’ he said to himself, regretfully, as he filled his pipe. ‘The sooner I get back to London or Paris the better for me.’
His eye fell on the sealed case in which Waterhouse had put the featherless poisoned arrows they had bought in the Mendi country. ‘I wish I had hit the beggar somewhere vital,’ said Pollock viciously.
Waterhouse came back after a long interval. He was not communicative, though Pollock asked him questions enough. The Porroh man, it seems, was a prominent member of that mystical society. The village was interested, but not threatening. No doubt the witch-doctor had gone into the bush. He was a great witch-doctor. ‘Of course, he’s up to something,’ said Waterhouse, and became silent.
‘But what can he do?’ asked Pollock, unheeded.
‘I must get you out of this. There’s something brewing, or things would not be so quiet,’ said Waterhouse, after a gap of silence. Pollock wanted to know what the brew might be. ‘Dancing in a circle of skulls, said Waterhouse; ‘brewing a stink in a copper pot,’ Pollock wanted particulars. Waterhouse was vague, Pollock pressing. At last Waterhouse lost his temper. ‘How the devil should I know?’ he said to Pollock’s twentieth inquiry what the Porroh man would do. ‘He tried to kill you off-hand in the hut. Now, I fancy he will try something more elaborate. But you’ll see fast enough. I don’t want to help unnerve you. It’s probably all nonsense.’