Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XV

  Arms and the Man

  A Deputation--An Unexpected Honour--Msala Improves the Occasion--ThePolitical Situation--First Steps--A Problem--Prospecting forSulphur--Herr Schwab on His Travels--Made in Germany

  The chief was buried at nightfall. A long framework of banana-stalkswas constructed, on which his body was placed. It was then covered withseveral layers of bark-cloth provided by his wives, who had smearedtheir faces with kaolin, and taken off their necklaces, armlets, andother articles of adornment, exhibiting, besides these outward signs ofmourning, a very real grief. Tom had a vague idea that at a chief'sdeath his wives were slain and buried with him, and was greatly relievedto find that this was not the custom among the Bahima. A deep hole wasdug beneath the hut, and there, after the recital of a sort of liturgyby the medicine-man, who had emerged from his retirement into a positionof some importance again, Barega was consigned to his last home amidwailing and lamentation.

  Returning sadly to his hut, Tom lay awake thinking of many things. Histask, he supposed, was now done. The villagers would elect anotherchief, and things would go on as before. He himself would be free toreturn to his own kind and kin, whose interests he resolved to enlist onbehalf of the people.

  "And surely the Free State officials ought to look after them," hethought. "I suppose they are too remote to have done anything hitherto.I wonder whether Uncle Jack could get me some work under theirgovernment, so that I could do something systematically towards thefreeing of the slaves? Englishmen have been thus employed, I know.There was Captain Hinde, and Captain Burrows; I am sure I have readsomething about their work. I'd rather be in the service of our ownGovernment, of course, but I suppose there's no chance of that whatever.Well, it isn't much use speculating after all. I don't want to go backto Glasgow if I can help it, though, if I am to be an engineer, Isuppose I couldn't learn my trade better anywhere else. I wonder whotheir new chief will be, by the by? Murasi is, of course, out of thequestion, and Mwonga, the other brother, is at present too young, thoughhe's a fine, handsome, intelligent lad, and will turn out well some day.The katikiro--really I am quite fond of that amusing old boy--is allvery well in a fight, but he hasn't a particle of moral courage, and I'mafraid, if it came to a tussle between him and the medicine-man, he'd benowhere. Well, they must fight it out among themselves."

  Next morning, before he was up, Mbutu came to him in a state ofconsiderable excitement.

  "Sah," he said, "katikiro outside; kasegara outside; all big menoutside; want see sah, bad want."

  "Do they, indeed? Well, Mbutu, tell them I'll be out in a minute ortwo. I suppose they'll proceed to elect a new chief to-day," heresumed, when Mbutu returned.

  "No, sah, no chief yet; wait one moon; great big cry fust."

  "Dear me! I shouldn't have thought there'd be official mourning insavage Africa! So they keep it up for a month, eh?"

  "Yes, sah. Brudders, sons, cousins, all people come drink museru, sah;knock big drum, little drum; sing, dance all night, sah; den make newchief."

  "I should like to see that; but we can't wait a month; we must be offback to the Nyanza in a day or two."

  All this time Tom had been taking his morning tub and donning hisclothes.

  "Don't believe Uncle Jack would know me from a chimpanzee," he said witha laugh. "What with this wretched down upon my cheeks, and my longmane, and my patched old toggery, I'm more like one of those beggingfakirs in India he has told me about than anything else I ever heard of.Well, now to see what my friend Msala wants."

  He went out of the hut. The katikiro, the kasegara, and all the otherleading men of the village were grouped with Mwonga, the chief's youngerbrother, in their midst, shifting from one foot to the other in a sortof nervous excitement. The instant they saw Tom they threw themselvesflat on their faces in a line, and began to crawl towards him.

  "What on earth's the meaning of this?" ejaculated Tom, aghast. "Andwhat are you grinning at?" he added, turning to Mbutu, whose face wasbeaming with delight.

  "Neyanzi-ge! Neyanzi-ge!" cried Mbutu, clapping his hands. "I praisetoo much, sah. I fank too much."

  "For goodness sake tell them to get up and behave as reasonablecreatures. That's the sort of thing they do to their fetishes; I'm nota fetish. 'Pon my word, it's too silly even to laugh at. Up, Msala;don't grovel there. Confound you, leave my knees alone," he added, underhis breath, for the katikiro had crawled up to him and clasped hisknees.

  Mbutu made the crawlers understand that Kuboko would be seriouslyannoyed if they did not stand on their feet, and they got up, one byone, with manifest reluctance.

  "Now," said Tom, "just explain in a sensible way what all thisperformance means."

  The katikiro looked at his companions as though asking their permissionto speak; then, leading Mwonga by the hand, he stepped forward.

  "O Kuboko," he said, "Barega is dead, a chief brave as a lion, mighty inwar, a great hunter, a fearless slayer of elephants. Now we, hispeople, have no chief; we have lost our father and mother; we have noneto lead us in fight or guide us in peace, none to judge us or to do usright. Murasi is unstable as water; he is at this moment mingling histears with museru. Mwonga here is but a boy; brave--let no man say heis not brave,--but many moons must pass before he can slay elephants andrule men like his brother Barega. Know, O Kuboko, that by the custom ofthe Bahima we should wait a long moon before we choose our chief; thedays of mourning are not yet over; the fresh museru is not brewed. Butwe dare not wait. The Arabs are gone, those that were left of them;thou, O Kuboko, knowest why and how they went; but they will come again;they will bring their friends in number as the seed of millet, and willfight against us, and what can we do against them without a chief? Whywill they come? They will come because they must. If they submit likedogs to a whipping, will they not be dogs for ever-more? What black manwill fear them? They will be mocked at, flouted, kicked and spurned;the black man will hunt them. They must come back to prove that theyare lions and no dogs. And when they come, what are we, O Kuboko? Wehave no fire-sticks; we have no strong magic; our medicine-man is buthollow, a tinkler like his own bell. What are we without thee, OKuboko? Who was it dug the ditch around our village? Who was it madethe fireballs? Who built the wonderful thrower that flung stones athousand miles? Who made the water run like a water-spout from the sky,and saved us and ours from death and chains? Thou it was, O Kuboko;thou didst these things, and more. Barega, yes, Barega was a greatchief, and thou, O Kuboko, thou didst save even Barega. Thou artmightier than Barega and ten thousand other chiefs; thou alone canstdefend us against the mighty host soon to come upon us; thou hast themagic of the white men, the strong arm of all the children of the GreatWhite King. Thou, O Kuboko, art our chief. We all say it. We havetalked; we have spoken to the spirits of our fathers and our fathers'fathers, and they all say Kuboko is our chief."

  "It's very kind of you, Msala, and you've said uncommonly nice thingsabout me, but it can't be, my friend. I am really deeply touched byyour confidence, but I feel that I ought to lose no time now inrejoining my own people. You are mourning your dead chief, and myfriends, you must remember, are mourning me, no doubt, as dead."

  Kuboko need not think of that, said the katikiro eagerly; messengersshould be despatched at once to the ends of the earth to explain. If hewould not be their chief, would he not at least stay with them for ashort time? Surely he would not desert them in their need--before hehad taught them the way to fight the Arabs.

  "Do you really think the Arabs will come back?"

  Yes, there was no doubt of it; and in their fastnesses, far beyond theforest, they numbered thousands upon thousands of men. The Bahima weregrateful for what Kuboko had already done for them, but what good was itall if they were left to be the prey of a still more numerous host,thirsting for revenge?

  Tom mused. It was a case for serious thought. Could he leave them toface the Arabs without his
help? It seemed a breach of faith, adesertion. For he felt in his heart that they were right, that theArabs would certainly return to exact a terrible vengeance, and thatwithout the stimulus of his leadership the Bahima would infallibly becrushed. Tom was the last person to overestimate his value, but he sawclearly that although there was plenty of courage among the Bahima, anda great fund of the qualities that make for self-sacrifice, there waslittle military aptitude of the higher sort. They would have little orno chance against such practised campaigners as the Arabs and theirallies. Yet who was he to match himself against the Arabs? He had hadlittle military training; he was intended for a civilian career; wouldit not be presumptuous in him to suppose that, if the Arabs returned intheir might, he could, with such rough material as he had alone at hisdisposal, attempt to cope with them? Then he remembered that forgenerations past he had soldiers among his ancestors; was it somehereditary bent that accounted for his success in the village hitherto?He had been successful. Why should he not be successful again? Whyshould he not use the powers he had in a service with which hiscountrymen had so long been identified? In any case--and this clinchedhis resolve--the Bahima with him would more nearly match the Arabs thanwithout him. Was it not then his duty to remain?

  He stood for some moments longer looking across the village at thedistant horizon, tapping his foot on the ground, wondering, thinking.The silent negroes watched him anxiously; Mbutu's eager eyes wereriveted to his master's face.

  "Msala," he said at length, "I will stay. Wait," he added, hushing themwith his hand as they began to shout in the fulness of their delight, "Iwill stay on two conditions. The first is: That I simply hold office inthe name of Mwonga here, who will be your chief when I am gone."("Ntugamba! We say it," cried the men.) "The second is: That when Iconsider your village safe from attack I must be free to give up mypower, and return to my own people." ("Ntugamba! ntugamba!") "On thoseconditions I will stay with you, and, with God's help, we will strikesuch a blow at your enemies as shall destroy their power once and forever."

  The gravity of Tom's tone impressed the Bahima; even the volublekatikiro's voice was silenced. Tom went on:

  "In Mwonga's name, then, I ask you to retain your offices. Mwonga, myfriend, I will be your brother as I was Barega's, and I will do my bestto uphold your dignity as chief. But I must have a free hand. I amolder than you; I have seen more than you. You know what I have beenable to do for your people, and you must make them understand that allthat I do is done in your name, and for their good. Is it well?"

  "It is well," cried the negroes.

  "Then you will see, Msala, that things are done in due form. You knowall about that; I leave it with you."

  The shouts of the officials had drawn a great crowd of villagers around,who stood at a respectful distance, looking with intense curiosity andinterest at the scene. When the interview had closed with the usualceremonial grunts, the katikiro, swelling with a new importance, turnedand made an oration to the crowd. Hearing that Kuboko was to remain asregent, they skipped and pranced about like mad things, striking up achorus, "Okubokokuru omwami! Okubokokuru omwami!" (Strong i' th' arm ischief), which they repeated, men, women, and children, a thousand timesover, with an enthusiasm at which Tom could not help being touched.

  That was a field-day for the katikiro! He went about his work with azest that showed how thoroughly he enjoyed himself. Funeral rites andthe inauguration of a new chief on the same day made a novel experiencefor him, and he meant to drink the fullest possible delight. Thefuneral proceedings were despatched first. The whole populationassembled in a triple ring, and large pots of museru were passed round.All the drums in the village were carried into the centre and groupedabout the great king-drum--a huge thing of tapering wood, nearly as highas a man, decorated with fetish-grass and intricate designs, thedrum-head secured by stout thongs of ox-hide. A dancing party ofwarriors, with shields, spears, and full war-paint, marched into thering, and, the katikiro giving the word, the chief drummer banged hisdrum and began a solo:

  "Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! Kanwete nga imamba bweyaweta" (Let me plunge like a lung-fish when it plunges) "Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!"

  At the same time the warriors began a slow dance, going round in acircle, and then the lugubrious strain was taken up and repeated inchorus by the whole assembly:

  "Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! Kanwete nga imamba bweyaweta Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!"

  All the drums joined in the fray, the dance quickened, the warriorssprang up several feet in the air, and all the time the pots of museruwent round. Tom was sorry to see that his leading officials werebecoming intoxicated, and perceived that one of his tasks would be toinculcate habits of sobriety; at present he felt that he could hardlyinterfere with a good grace. After this had gone on for some time, thekatikiro, more sober than the rest of the magnates, put a stop to thefuneral dance, and announced the ceremonial election of a chief. Notime was lost in this, the programme being cut and dried. Mwonga washailed by acclamation, and took his place on a mat of bark-cloth, wherehe received the obeisance of all the principal men in turn. Tom thoughtit well to set a good example, and greeted the chief withspecially-marked respect. Then he had to take his place beside Mwonga,and as the people came up in a long line the katikiro introduced him:"This is your brother; this is your friend; this is Okubokokuru; this isthe man of big medicine," and so on, reciting a tremendous list of thenew regent's virtues.

  When he had ended, rather for want of breath than lack of matter, thewhole company sat down to smoke the ceremonial pipe. A longbanana-stalk, with large ivory bowl filled with native tobacco, washanded to the new chief. Tom wondered if every individual was to smokethe pipe through, in which case the ceremony would have lasted a month.But he soon saw that that would have been too laborious and painful anoperation. Mwonga lit the tobacco at a glowing brazier, took a fewpuffs, and passed it to Tom, who, after copying him, handed it to thekatikiro. Tom found it hard to retain his gravity as he watched thespectacle. Every man was evidently on his mettle; when his turn came heexpanded his lungs with surprising vigour to their greatest extent, andfilled mouth, nose, and eyes with the powerful fumes till he coughedviolently and the tears ran down his cheeks. His neighbour eagerly heldout both hands to receive the pipe, anxious to lose none of his share,and followed the example. The solemn look on their impassive faces, asthough they were performing some awful and mysterious rite, quiteovercame Tom, who joined in the chorus of coughing in order to smotherhis laughter. When the smoking was finished, torches were lit, a newdance was begun; flutes piped, lyres jangled, drums were thumped, andthe revelry was kept up far into the night.

  Everyone wore a more or less dejected look next morning, and Tom tookthe opportunity to walk about the neighbourhood, attended by Mbutu, forthe sake of having what he called a "good solid think". Now that he haddefinitely cast in his lot for a time with the Bahima, he was notinclined to let the grass grow under his feet. First of all he reviewedthe situation. He saw no reason to doubt the people's conviction thatthe Arabs would return in great strength. He had but a small force offighting-men under his control, quite inadequate to cope with even sucha force as had met his uncle. From all accounts he might expect to haveto deal with a host of some eight hundred Arabs, armed with rifles--notthe surest of marksmen, perhaps, but formidable by reason of the moraleffect of firearms, at any rate. In addition, there were probablythousands of irregulars with them, man for man, no doubt, equal inquality to his own troops. Against this huge number what availed hisfive or six hundred?

  He thought of making an appeal to the Free State authorities, whoseinterest it must surely be to stamp out the Arab pests. But Boma, theircapital, and, indeed, all of their regular stations, were so far awaythat months must pass before a properly-equipped force could reach him,even if the authorities cared to undertake the campaign. When he leftEngland the papers were full of references to the financial difficultiesof the Congo Free State, which
, if all that rumour said was true, didnot possess the means to cope with the small risings that constantlyrecurred in different parts of the country.

  The Arabs, for their part, as Tom learnt afterwards, were careful not tofall foul of the Free State authorities unless they were directlyattacked, as in the case of the ill-fated column cut up by Tom's captorsmonths before. They had already suffered severely, and knew that theyexisted in a measure on sufferance; for which reason they now confinedtheir depredations to remote districts in which the supremacy of theFree State was merely nominal, and where they were comparatively safefrom molestation. News of their nefarious raids did indeed filterthrough to Europe, but merely as intertribal fights. The Free Stateofficials were probably in no uncertainty as to the real nature of theseevents, but inasmuch as the Arabs were the means of forwarding aconsiderable quantity of ivory and rubber to the trading centres, theirmethods were not too deeply investigated, if they were not actuallywinked at.

  All this Tom only learnt in course of time; but he knew and suspectedenough already to be convinced that the only hope of dealing asuccessful blow at the raiders lay in using the material ready to hand.Mwonga's people were too few in number to cope with the Arabs unaided;but there must be many villages in the surrounding country whoseinterests lay in making common cause against the common enemy. Hereanother difficulty faced him at once. As had been shown by the replygiven to one of the messengers sent out during the siege, a combinationof African chiefs was no easy thing to effect. They were all jealous ofone another; suspicious of being led into a trap; unwilling to putthemselves at the orders of any one chief in supreme command. Yet noother course would meet the case, and Tom resolved to make the attempt,hoping that a European, who had already won their respect, might succeedwhere an African would almost certainly fail. The news of Barega'sgreat victory, and the fame of his own share in it, would spread, withina few days, far and wide through the country; indeed, the contingentswhich had come into the village for protection were already beginning toscatter to their several homes. "A few days for the leaven to work,"thought Tom, "and then I'll send out messengers to several of the chiefswithin thirty miles, asking them to attend a grand palaver with me. Andas I suppose they'll be madly jealous if I ask them outright to comeinto this village, we shall have to fix on neutral ground for themeeting. I'll go and consult my friend the katikiro."

  Msala cordially agreed with the plan proposed, and messengers were atonce selected for the mission. Four of the neighbouring chiefs wereinvited to repair, on the eighth day, to a hill some five miles distantfrom Mwonga's village, each bringing seven of his principal men, thereto meet Kuboko, as representing Mwonga, with an equal number. At thesame time two runners, in accordance with Msala's promise, were senteastwards, to make the best of their way towards the Nyanza, and toinform any white men they might meet of the presence of Kuboko in theirvillage. Tom found it quite impossible to get them to pronounce hisname, and there was not a scrap of paper in the place; but he worked hissurname on a piece of linen, with the aid of clumsy wooden needlesborrowed from one of Barega's widows, and gave that to one of thecouriers.

  Having a week to spend before the grand palaver, Tom, with his usualenergy, adopted measures to improve the military efficiency of theforce. This he knew would be a matter of time and patience, and it wasimportant to begin at once. His first care, naturally, was tostrengthen their _moral_. He singled out the men who had distinguishedthemselves in the recent fighting, and had also shown general evidenceof intelligence and aptitude, and these he placed in command ofcompanies of a hundred men each. He selected a hundred to act as abody-guard to himself and the chief, and six of them, in addition to thekatikiro, formed a sort of staff. There was great eagerness among thewarriors to be enrolled among this special corps, and Tom decided tomake enrolment in it a reward for good service. He drilled the men withparticular care, and was gratified by the readiness with which theyobeyed him, the exact attention they paid to all his instructions, andthe quickness they showed in carrying them out.

  On the second day after the defeat of the Arabs, Tom ordered the rescuedslaves to be paraded before him, and offered them the alternatives ofimmediate freedom, in which case they would have to shift forthemselves, and enrolment in the military force. They were delighted atthe chance of fighting their late masters, and nine-tenths of themjoyfully accepted the offer of service. A man who has been a slave,indeed, is usually very loth to accept absolute freedom, for he hasbecome so accustomed to dependence as to lose all will-power, and theloss of a master means the loss of the means of living. The slaves werea very mixed lot, almost every tribe for a hundred miles round beingrepresented among them--tall men and short men, cannibals andvegetarians; but Tom hoped that a little regular training and the memoryof their past sufferings would induce a kind of _esprit de corps_, andthat in course of time they would prove a useful addition to the force.He had to contend with symptoms of jealousy and dislike among his ownpeople, but by combined tact and firmness he succeeded in preventing anyserious squabbles.

  In Barega's time private quarrels among the people had been settled withthe knife, and public offences purged by means of various ordealsinvented by the medicine-man. To put a stop to such rough-and-readymethods, Tom appointed a court, consisting of the chief officials andhimself, to hear complaints and try cases, meeting three times a week inthe compound of his hut. The African is very ready to experiment, andis especially delighted with anything in the way of ceremonial where hehas a chance to exhibit his oratorical power. He is also quick toappreciate true justice, so that Tom found his court a success, ifsomewhat trying to his patience because of its long-windedness.Mabruki, however, deeply resented his deposition from the office of lordchief-justice, and added this to the heavy grudge he already boreKuboko.

  With five hundred and fifty warriors and about two hundred and fiftyfreed slaves, Tom found himself in command of an effective force ofeight hundred men, excluding boys under sixteen, who were drafted into acadet corps, the nucleus of which already existed in the late chief'smutuma or "boys' brigade". Four hours every day were devoted toteaching the troops the elements of drill--just sufficient to give themcohesion and enable them to perform the simpler evolutions. Two hourswere given to special drill--the throwing up of breastworks, forinstance, for protection from rifle fire. It was, he thought, hisspecial good fortune that the sergeant-major who instructed the cadetcorps at school had taken the keenest interest in his profession, andhad given the cadets under his charge a real liking for their work. Tomsaw that only by superior discipline could he hope to counterbalance thesuperior armament and greater numbers of the Arabs.

  From the outset he had to face a difficulty in the want of firearms andammunition. As a result of their recent victory the Bahima had becomepossessors of some two hundred rifles and muskets; but even with thesethey would make but a poor show against the hundreds of well-armed Arabswhom they might have to encounter. Besides, the ammunition recoveredfrom the water was insignificant. There were a few unspoilt kegs ofpowder, and a few cases of cartridges for the rifles, but they werebarely sufficient to provide eighty rounds a man. Further, as only afew of his troops had ever handled a gun of any kind, there wouldscarcely be more than enough ammunition to give the learners sufficientmusketry practice. Tom was appalled, when he began to instruct them, atthe waste due to their timidity, and to their tendency to use theirweapons as playthings. Yet, with two hundred serviceable weapons, itseemed a pity that they should be useless, and he wondered whether bysome means or other a further supply of at least powder might not beobtained.

  On the third day after the despatch of the messengers, it occurred tohim that it might be possible to manufacture some powder. From hisearliest years he had been fond of "messing", as unappreciative seniorsput it, from the making of toffee to the more or less successfulmanufacture of fireworks. He had picked up at odd times also, owing tothis scientific curiosity, a certain working acquaintance with variousindustrial pr
ocesses not directly connected with marine engineering, andknew that the constituents of gunpowder may be easily prepared from theraw material. But there was the rub; the absence of any one of theconstituents would render the others useless. In the Congo Forest, withits hundreds of thousands of square miles of dense woodland, extendingover a space as large as France and Spain together, there would be nolack of wood for charcoal; saltpetre he had found in considerablequantities within a mile from the village; but in addition to these asupply of sulphur was needed, and where was he to look for that?

  While thinking over the problem he remembered that during his illness hehad been entertained by the katikiro with a long story of a malignantspirit inhabiting a certain mountain some six hours' march to thesouth-east of the village. As a boy the katikiro could remember thisterrible being bursting forth in a large sheet of flame from the bowelsof the mountain, with a horrible rumbling sound that shook the solidearth for miles around, casting immense rocks miles up into the air,engulfing the surrounding country in a cloud of smoke and fire, andturning the streams into rivers of boiling mud. Many villages with alltheir inhabitants had been utterly destroyed; even in Barega's theshower of cinders from the sky set fire to several of the huts. Foryears afterwards the mountain gave off dense clouds of smoke; but thesegradually ceased, and the evil spirit had since then been quiet.Nevertheless nobody from Barega's or any of the neighbouring villageshad ventured to approach the mountain since these fearful happenings.

  Remembering this, Tom guessed that the scene of this eruption, which wasapparently an isolated peak, was connected with the great CentralAfrican volcanic system extending from Lake Kivu to the Semliki. On hismarch from Lake Mazingo on the track of his uncle's expedition he hadpassed over ground that was evidently of volcanic origin; and hesurmised that this part of Central Africa had at some time or other beenthe scene of enormous volcanic activities. The important fact now,however, was that a volcano known to have been active was in hisimmediate neighbourhood. He knew that sulphurous fumes were thrown offfrom volcanoes; was there any chance of finding sulphur itself in anyworkable form on the slope of this adjacent mountain? It was worthtrying, and he resolved to make a careful examination of the ground.

  Next day, then, accompanied by Mbutu, half a dozen hunters to procuregame, and twenty steady Bairo armed with picks and shovels, he set outwith this object. He had some difficulty at first in overcoming thesuperstitious fears of his followers. Mbutu interpreted theirobjections, which, recited by their spokesman in fear and trembling andmuch grovelling on the earth, were quite unintelligible to Tom.

  "This man say him berrah poor; him no can buy charms. Evil spirit plentytoo much strong, him burn up black man in big fire; hot mud drown blackman; smoke choke black man. Sah no afraid, no, no; him white man, bigmedicine; black man him no medicine, afraid too much too much."

  Remembering the proverbial pill to cure the earthquake, Tom solemnlyhanded to each of his followers an empty cartridge-case, which heexplained was the strongest magic he possessed against the spirit of themountain. The device gave him some qualms; but he remembered that Dr.Arbuthnot himself, the great eighteenth-century physician, had practisedsimilar innocent deceptions on noble lords, and he felt that in thiscase the end justified the means.

  The road for nearly half the distance was fairly easy, but it thenbecame very rugged, and progress was slow and laborious. Tom found manytraces of game, and in one place, approaching down wind, the partydisturbed a large herd of elephants. Tom resisted the impulse to pursuethem, although it cost him an effort, and pressed forward towards thepeak, which was visible as a truncated cone of no great height, for themost part bare, but showing here and there patches of scrub and belts offorest growth. The party had started early in the day, but it wasnearing sunset when they arrived within climbing distance of the peak,and Tom decided to camp for the night and begin prospecting nextmorning. Making an early start, he was on the slopes of the mountainnot long after dawn, and then began a toilsome search for traces ofsulphur in workable form. He felt sure that thousands of tons of thedesired substance lay around him, but unless he could find it in thefree state, or at least mechanically mixed with earth, with therough-and-ready appliances he could devise on the spot it would be quitebeyond his reach.

  His first step was to build a fire on the slopes of the mountain, andplace two men in charge of it, with instructions to pile on a plentifulsupply of fuel. Then, dividing his men into squads of four, he made aseries of excavations in various spots simultaneously, going from one toanother to examine the earth that was dug up. Several times he thoughthe had discovered the object of his quest, and a number of basketfuls ofearth were carried to the improvised furnace. There the ore was heapedinto a pile and ignited from the top, in the hope that the heat abovewould melt any sulphur that might be contained in the lower part of themass, and cause it to run down into the specially-prepared cavity at thebottom. This process was a wasteful one, but it had the merit ofsimplicity, and Tom knew that if only a sufficient quantity ofsulphur-bearing earth could be obtained it would serve his purpose.

  After several disappointments he at last came upon undoubted traces ofsulphur from the combustion of a quantity of earth obtained very closeto the crater. He wished to make another trial, but it was growinglate, and his men implored him not to remain on the mountain afternightfall. His magic might suffice for the day, but nothing couldpreserve them from the wrath of Irungo if he found them within his gatesduring the hours of darkness. Their terror was so extreme that Tomreluctantly withdrew to the site of the previous night's camp; but atthe first streak of daylight he roused his men, who were feeling theeffects of their unaccustomed labours, and after breakfast led them backto the spot at which the only promising find of the previous day hadbeen made. Removing nearly half a ton of earth, he made the experimentthis time on a larger scale, and when the mass had burned for some twohours he was delighted to find a considerable quantity of crude sulphurin the little cavity beneath the pile. He had used up a large amount ofwood in the process, for there was not sufficient sulphur in the orematerially to assist the process of combustion, but there wasfortunately no lack of fuel within a few hundred yards of the place fromwhich the ore was taken, and by nightfall Tom was in possession of somelumps of a dirty-brown substance which, when refined, might yield halftheir weight of pure sulphur. When darkness fell he piled up anunusually large heap of the ore, left a fire smouldering above it, andwas rewarded in the morning with a correspondingly large quantity ofcrude sulphur in the receiver.

  "This is glorious!" he said to Mbutu. "We have a good many pounds ofstuff now; the next thing is to see if sufficiently pure sulphur can berefined from it to make powder. We can't do that here, at any rate; andbesides, to-morrow is the day fixed for our grand palaver, so I think wemust be content for the present with what we have, and come again if wefind it successful. One thing is certain," his unspoken thoughtcontinued, "there's enough sulphur on this mountain to make powder forall the army corps in the world, and if only there were means of transitit might pay someone to lease it from the Congo Government. For all Iknow, in fact, I may be trespassing; but I fancy the authorities won'tmind much if they hear about it and know what I am doing it for.--Well,my men, now for home. We have got what I wanted, and, as you see,haven't been molested by Irungo. You won't mind coming again, eh?"

  They returned to the village with their load. A mile before theyreached it, Mbutu all at once drew his master's attention to a freshtrail crossing their path from the east. There were the clear marks ofmen's feet, and also of small hoofs, which Mbutu declared were thehoof-marks of donkeys.

  "It looks as though a caravan of some sort were making for our village,"said Tom. "Surely it cannot be Arabs?"

  "No, sah; white man, sah. Donkeys; must be white man. Oh yes!"

  "You don't mean to imply any close relationship between white men anddonkeys? You don't understand? Well, never mind. But I do hope thatour affairs are not to be
complicated by entirely unnecessaryEuropeans."

  As he approached, he discerned unmistakeable signs of excitement in thevillage. Those of the people who were not engaged in their regularoccupations were crowding towards the centre; and, looking over theirheads from his higher position, Tom saw a smaller group, composed of thekatikiro and some other of the principal men, gathered about a tallbroad figure in white clothes and white topee, whose back at the momentwas towards the gate by which Tom had entered. With him were severaltall natives whose dress distinguished them as strangers, and at onepoint four well-laden donkeys were tethered, the object of greatinterest to all the urchins of the place.

  "Hullo!" said Tom to himself, "this is very curious. There's decidedly acommercial look about that fellow, and I seem to know his back, too.Who in the world can it be? Some trader, perhaps, I caught sight ofcasually at Mombasa or Kisumu, though I wonder what brings him to theseremote parts. He's well armed; those rifles look uncommonly likeMausers. And there's a revolver in his belt. This is interesting."

  Ordering his party to dispose of their loads and place the sulphur inthe courtyard of his hut, he approached quietly, and entered thechattering crowd by a gap opened for him. In the centre of the crowd thestranger stood in a clear space, two leather cases open on the ground infront of him.

  "By Jove!" Tom said to himself, as he came within a yard of thestranger, who had not as yet perceived him, "I'm hanged if it isn'tSchwab, gold spectacles and all! He's diligent in business, if ever aman was. Fancy trapesing out here with a caravan! Wonder what he'strying to gammon the katikiro into buying! I declare he's whipped outhis note-book and is actually entering orders. I must look into this!"

  Now at this time Kuboko presented a wholly different appearance from theTom Burnaby of a few months before. His face and neck were scorched to adeep brick-red, save where they were covered with nearly five months'growth of hair. His form had filled out somewhat after he recoveredfrom his illness. His clothes were indescribable. On his head, to keepoff the sun's rays, he wore a calico head-dress of his own invention.He might have passed for a particularly fine and rather less thanusually solemn Arab, and altogether he was not far wrong in his beliefthat not one of his friends would at first sight have recognized him.Consequently, when the respectful greetings of the katikiro and hisfriends at length apprised Herr Schwab that someone of importance hadarrived, he turned and saw what he supposed to be a handsome young Arab,whose presence in a Bahima village was sufficiently surprising.

  Tom could not resist the temptation to have a little fun. Havingaddressed a few authoritative words in their own tongue to the Bahima,he salaamed to the German, and stood as though awaiting an explanation.Schwab meanwhile had been taking stock of the supposed Arab, and havingbeen unable to come to any conclusion about him, he turned to the nativefollower who was acting as interpreter, and through him asked whom hehad the honour of addressing. Tom signed to Mbutu, who at onceexplained that it was, indeed, a great honour, since Kuboko was theacting chief of the village, which contained some two thousand fivehundred souls, the biggest village between Tanganyika and the Nile. TheGerman at once expressed his high consideration for his friendKuboko--he thought he might call him his friend?--and he would be mosthappy if he could do some business with him. Perhaps his friend Kubokoknew a little English, for if he did, their intercourse would, hethought, be much facilitated.

  "Yes," said Tom slowly, "I do know English a little; it will be good tospeak English; business are business."

  "Fery goot, my friend," said the German. "I am fery glad. Now, Irepresent, vat you call stand for, ze great export house ofSchlagintwert in Duesseldorf, and I can sell you anyzink--yes, anyzinkat all, from Sheffield cutlery to Scotch visky. Yes, ve make inDuesseldorf a particularly goot brant of real old Scotch visky. Ve makealso Birmingham screws, and Paisley sread; ve make Cumberland leadpencils and, vat you vill like ze best of all, Manchester softgoots--all made in Germany, my friend, and our terms arefipercentforcash. I say cash, but I mean to say, of course, ivory, orrubber, or anyzink else of vorth. Now, not often hafe I ze pleasure tomeet a zhentleman vat speak English in zese parts, and I am fery glad,fery glad indeed. I hafe just booked ze goot black man for vun gross ofpin-packetts, and I shall trust to take your essteemed orders foranyzink--anyzink vatefer, fipercentforcash, zanking you inan-ti-ci-pa-tion."

  Tom could stand it no longer. Smothering a laugh, he clapped a hand onthe astonished German's shoulder, and said:

  "Pig-iron? What about pig-iron, Herr Schwab?"

  "Ach! meine Guete!" exclaimed Schwab, his broad face one startled noteof interrogation, "who ze----who zen are you?"

  He mopped his face with a red handkerchief, still holding hispocket-book open in the other hand.

  "Don't you remember Tom Burnaby, on board the _Peninsular_, and yourkind offer of any number of tons of pig-iron?"

  "Goot heafens!"

  "And I saw you at Kisumu, don't you know."

  "Oh, I do know! yes; I do know indeed; and you vent after youroncle--vat you call vild-goose hunt. But, but--pardon me, Mr. Burnaby,you hafe taken my breass avay quite. You are like a--vat you callgorilla, Mr. Burnaby."

  "Just what I thought myself," rejoined Tom with a laugh. "I'm gettingacclimatized! But I haven't quite forgotten civilized ways, and I'muncommonly glad to see you. It's I don't know how long since I spoke toa European, and if you'll come along to my hut I'll give you some Bass'sale or Devonshire cider (brewed in Mwonga, as we call this village), andanything else you like to order--prime Scotch beef, you know, andSouthdown mutton; or Frankfort _Bratwurst_, eh? and we can have acomfortable talk and clear up a few inexplicables. But, first of all,my dear Herr Schwab, I must ask you to cancel that order for pins. Thekatikiro has never seen a pin in his life, I fancy."

  "Oh, but indeed he has! I hafe showed him a packett. He vas ferydelighted. He gafe me order for vun gross, spot-price:fipercentforcash."

  "And how many pins in a packet, may I ask?"

  "Hundert, or, because my packetts are particularly fine, perhaps hundertten."

  "Ah! and a gross is twelve dozen, I believe, according to Cocker. Wellnow, that will make--let me see--fifteen thousand eight hundred andforty pins. Is that right?"

  "No doubt at all; I could not do it so quick; but my house vill not beparticular about vun score or two. Say sixteen tousand pins, Mr.Burnaby, and all zat big lot for vun tusk of ivory!"

  "And what do you think my katikiro will do with sixteen thousand pins?You really are too funny, Herr Schwab. Look at the extent of hiswaist-cloth! No, I am very sorry, but I really must forbid thetransaction. Between ourselves, Msala is a bit of a wag, and as likelyas not he would make pin-cushions of all his dearest friends and get meinto no end of hot water. No; cancel that order, and we'll see if wecan do business in some other of your innumerable articles."

  "Fery vell, Mr. Burnaby; now zat is a promise--vat you call vun deal, isit not? Fery vell. But I am amazed. I am indeed ass-tounded, to findmy young friend chief of a natife village. It is vonderful, it isincr-redible! I hafe not yet recofered from ze stroke. I vould indeedlike some lager beer, lager beer from Muenchen; it vould help mecon-sid-er-ably to vat you call digest ze vonderful information."

  "I can't promise you real lager from Muenchen, or real Bass fromStuttgart," said Tom, laughing; "but you'll find our marwa very likecider, and we can supply plenty of that--say two and a half per cent forcash."

  "Ah! Now you laugh at me! You are vat you call sly dog, eh? Hoch,zen! Vun glass of marwa, and zen egsplain ze position. Vonderful!Vonderful!"