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--The Political Situation--First Steps--A Problem--Prospecting for Sulphur--Herr Schwab on His Travels--Made in Germany

The chief was buried at nightfall. A long framework of banana-stalks was constructed, on which his body was placed. It was then covered with several layers of bark-cloth provided by his wives, who had smeared their faces with kaolin, and taken off their necklaces, armlets, and other articles of adornment, exhibiting, besides these outward signs of mourning, a very real grief. Tom had a vague idea that at a chief's death his wives were slain and buried with him, and was greatly relieved to find that this was not the custom among the Bahima. A deep hole was dug beneath the hut, and there, after the recital of a sort of liturgy by the medicine-man, who had emerged from his retirement into a position of some importance again, Barega was consigned to his last home amid wailing and lamentation.

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

"And surely the Free State officials ought to look after them," he thought. "I suppose they are too remote to have done anything hitherto. I wonder whether Uncle Jack could get me some work under their government, so that I could do something systematically towards the freeing of the slaves? Englishmen have been thus employed, I know. There was Captain Hinde, and Captain Burrows; I am sure I have read something about their work. I'd rather be in the service of our own Government, 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 back to Glasgow if I can help it, though, if I am to be an engineer, I suppose I couldn't learn my trade better anywhere else. I wonder who their new chief will be, by the by? Murasi is, of course, out of the question, and Mwonga, the other brother, is at present too young, though he'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 all very well in a fight, but he hasn't a particle of moral courage, and I'm afraid, if it came to a tussle between him and the medicine-man, he'd be nowhere. Well, they must fight it out among themselves."

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

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

"Do they, indeed? Well, Mbutu, tell them I'll be out in a minute or two. I suppose they'll proceed to elect a new chief to-day," he resumed, 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 in savage 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 new chief."

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

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

"Don't believe Uncle Jack would know me from a chimpanzee," he said with a laugh. "What with this wretched down upon my cheeks, and my long mane, and my patched old toggery, I'm more like one of those begging fakirs 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 other leading men of the village were grouped with Mwonga, the chief's younger brother, in their midst, shifting from one foot to the other in a sort of nervous excitement. The instant they saw Tom they threw themselves flat on their faces in a line, and began to crawl towards him.

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

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

"For goodness sake tell them to get up and behave as reasonable creatures. That's the sort of thing they do to their fetishes; I'm not a 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, under his breath, for the katikiro had crawled up to him and clasped his knees.

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

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

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

"O Kuboko," he said, "Barega is dead, a chief brave as a lion, mighty in war, a great hunter, a fearless slayer of elephants. Now we, his people, have no chief; we have lost our father and mother; we have none to lead us in fight or guide us in peace, none to judge us or to do us right. Murasi is unstable as water; he is at this moment mingling his tears with museru. Mwonga here is but a boy; brave--let no man say he is not brave,--but many moons must pass before he can slay elephants and rule men like his brother Barega. Know, O Kuboko, that by the custom of the Bahima we should wait a long moon before we choose our chief; the days of mourning are not yet over; the fresh museru is not brewed. But we 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 will fight against us, and what can we do against them without a chief? Why will they come? They will come because they must. If they submit like dogs to a whipping, will they not be dogs for ever-more? What black man will fear them? They will be mocked at, flouted, kicked and spurned; the black man will hunt them. They must come back to prove that they are lions and no dogs. And when they come, what are we, O Kuboko? We have no fire-sticks; we have no strong magic; our medicine-man is but hollow, a tinkler like his own bell. What are we without thee, O Kuboko? Who was it dug the ditch around our village? Who was it made the fireballs? Who built the wonderful thrower that flung stones a thousand 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 great chief, and thou, O Kuboko, thou didst save even Barega. Thou art mightier than Barega and ten thousand other chiefs; thou alone canst defend us against the mighty host soon to come upon us; thou hast the magic of the white men, the strong arm of all the children of the Great White King. Thou, O Kuboko, art our chief. We all say it. We have talked; 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 things about me, but it can't be, my friend. I am really deeply touched by your confidence, but I feel that I ought to lose no time now in rejoining my own people. You are mourning your dead chief, and my friends, you must remember, are mourning me, no doubt, as dead."

Kuboko need not think of that, said the katikiro eagerly; messengers should be despatched at once to the ends of the earth to explain. If he would not be their chief, would he not at least stay with them for a short time? Surely he would not desert them in their need--before he had 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 the forest, they numbered thousands upon thousands of men. The Bahima were grateful for what Kuboko had already done for them, but what good was it all 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 to face the Arabs without his help? It seemed a breach of faith, a desertion. For he felt in his heart that they were right, that the Arabs would certainly return to exact a terrible vengeance, and that without the stimulus of his leadership the Bahima would infallibly be crushed. Tom was the last person to overestimate his value, but he saw clearly that although there was plenty of courage among the Bahima, and a great fund of the qualities that make for self-sacrifice, there was little military aptitude of the higher sort. They would have little or no chance against such practised campaigners as the Arabs and their allies. Yet who was he to match himself against the Arabs? He had had little military training; he was intended for a civilian career; would it not be presumptuous in him to suppose that, if the Arabs returned in their might, he could, with such rough material as he had alone at his disposal, attempt to cope with them? Then he remembered that for generations past he had soldiers among his ancestors; was it some hereditary bent that accounted for his success in the village hitherto? He had been successful. Why should he not be successful again? Why should he not use the powers he had in a service with which his countrymen had so long been identified? In any case--and this clinched his resolve--the Bahima with him would more nearly match the Arabs than without him. Was it not then his duty to remain?

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

"Msala," he said at length, "I will stay. Wait," he added, hushing them with his hand as they began to shout in the fulness of their delight, "I will stay on two conditions. The first is: That I simply hold office in the 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 I consider your village safe from attack I must be free to give up my power, and return to my own people." ("Ntugamba! ntugamba!") "On those conditions I will stay with you, and, with God's help, we will strike such a blow at your enemies as shall destroy their power once and for ever."

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

"In Mwonga's name, then, I ask you to retain your offices. Mwonga, my friend, I will be your brother as I was Barega's, and I will do my best to uphold your dignity as chief. But I must have a free hand. I am older than you; I have seen more than you. You know what I have been able to do for your people, and you must make them understand that all that 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 know all 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 and interest at the scene. When the interview had closed with the usual ceremonial grunts, the katikiro, swelling with a new importance, turned and made an oration to the crowd. Hearing that Kuboko was to remain as regent, they skipped and pranced about like mad things, striking up a chorus, "Okubokokuru omwami! Okubokokuru omwami!" (Strong i' th' arm is chief), which they repeated, men, women, and children, a thousand times over, 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 a zest that showed how thoroughly he enjoyed himself. Funeral rites and the inauguration of a new chief on the same day made a novel experience for him, and he meant to drink the fullest possible delight. The funeral proceedings were despatched first. The whole population assembled in a triple ring, and large pots of museru were passed round. All the drums in the village were carried into the centre and grouped about the great king-drum--a huge thing of tapering wood, nearly as high as a man, decorated with fetish-grass and intricate designs, the drum-head secured by stout thongs of ox-hide. A dancing party of warriors, with shields, spears, and full war-paint, marched into the ring, and, the katikiro giving the word, the chief drummer banged his drum 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 a circle, and then the lugubrious strain was taken up and repeated in chorus 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 warriors sprang up several feet in the air, and all the time the pots of museru went round. Tom was sorry to see that his leading officials were becoming intoxicated, and perceived that one of his tasks would be to inculcate habits of sobriety; at present he felt that he could hardly interfere with a good grace. After this had gone on for some time, the katikiro, more sober than the rest of the magnates, put a stop to the funeral dance, and announced the ceremonial election of a chief. No time was lost in this, the programme being cut and dried. Mwonga was hailed by acclamation, and took his place on a mat of bark-cloth, where he received the obeisance of all the principal men in turn. Tom thought it well to set a good example, and greeted the chief with specially-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 is the man of big medicine," and so on, reciting a tremendous list of the new regent's virtues.

When he had ended, rather for want of breath than lack of matter, the whole company sat down to smoke the ceremonial pipe. A long banana-stalk, with large ivory bowl filled with native tobacco, was handed to the new chief. Tom wondered if every individual was to smoke the 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 an operation. Mwonga lit the tobacco at a glowing brazier, took a few puffs, and passed it to Tom, who, after copying him, handed it to the katikiro. Tom found it hard to retain his gravity as he watched the spectacle. Every man was evidently on his mettle; when his turn came he expanded his lungs with surprising vigour to their greatest extent, and filled mouth, nose, and eyes with the powerful fumes till he coughed violently and the tears ran down his cheeks. His neighbour eagerly held out both hands to receive the pipe, anxious to lose none of his share, and followed the example. The solemn look on their impassive faces, as though they were performing some awful and mysterious rite, quite overcame Tom, who joined in the chorus of coughing in order to smother his laughter. When the smoking was finished, torches were lit, a new dance was begun; flutes piped, lyres jangled, drums were thumped, and the revelry was kept up far into the night.

Everyone wore a more or less dejected look next morning, and Tom took the opportunity to walk about the neighbourhood, attended by Mbutu, for the sake of having what he called a "good solid think". Now that he had definitely cast in his lot for a time with the Bahima, he was not inclined to let the grass grow under his feet. First of all he reviewed the situation. He saw no reason to doubt the people's conviction that the Arabs would return in great strength. He had but a small force of fighting-men under his control, quite inadequate to cope with even such a force as had met his uncle. From all accounts he might expect to have to deal with a host of some eight hundred Arabs, armed with rifles--not the surest of marksmen, perhaps, but formidable by reason of the moral effect of firearms, at any rate. In addition, there were probably thousands of irregulars with them, man for man, no doubt, equal in quality to his own troops. Against this huge number what availed his five or six hundred?

He thought of making an appeal to the Free State authorities, whose interest it must surely be to stamp out the Arab pests. But Boma, their capital, and, indeed, all of their regular stations, were so far away that months must pass before a properly-equipped force could reach him, even if the authorities cared to undertake the campaign. When he left England the papers were full of references to the financial difficulties of the Congo Free State, which, if all that rumour said was true, did not possess the means to cope with the small risings that constantly recurred in different parts of the country.

The Arabs, for their part, as Tom learnt afterwards, were careful not to fall foul of the Free State authorities unless they were directly attacked, as in the case of the ill-fated column cut up by Tom's captors months before. They had already suffered severely, and knew that they existed in a measure on sufferance; for which reason they now confined their depredations to remote districts in which the supremacy of the Free State was merely nominal, and where they were comparatively safe from molestation. News of their nefarious raids did indeed filter through to Europe, but merely as intertribal fights. The Free State officials were probably in no uncertainty as to the real nature of these events, but inasmuch as the Arabs were the means of forwarding a considerable quantity of ivory and rubber to the trading centres, their methods were not too deeply investigated, if they were not actually winked at.

All this Tom only learnt in course of time; but he knew and suspected enough already to be convinced that the only hope of dealing a successful 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 whose interests lay in making common cause against the common enemy. Here another difficulty faced him at once. As had been shown by the reply given to one of the messengers sent out during the siege, a combination of African chiefs was no easy thing to effect. They were all jealous of one another; suspicious of being led into a trap; unwilling to put themselves at the orders of any one chief in supreme command. Yet no other course would meet the case, and Tom resolved to make the attempt, hoping that a European, who had already won their respect, might succeed where an African would almost certainly fail. The news of Barega's great victory, and the fame of his own share in it, would spread, within a few days, far and wide through the country; indeed, the contingents which had come into the village for protection were already beginning to scatter 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 chiefs within thirty miles, asking them to attend a grand palaver with me. And as I suppose they'll be madly jealous if I ask them outright to come into this village, we shall have to fix on neutral ground for the meeting. I'll go and consult my friend the katikiro."

Msala cordially agreed with the plan proposed, and messengers were at once selected for the mission. Four of the neighbouring chiefs were invited to repair, on the eighth day, to a hill some five miles distant from Mwonga's village, each bringing seven of his principal men, there to meet Kuboko, as representing Mwonga, with an equal number. At the same time two runners, in accordance with Msala's promise, were sent eastwards, to make the best of their way towards the Nyanza, and to inform any white men they might meet of the presence of Kuboko in their village. Tom found it quite impossible to get them to pronounce his name, and there was not a scrap of paper in the place; but he worked his surname on a piece of linen, with the aid of clumsy wooden needles borrowed from one of Barega's widows, and gave that to one of the couriers.

Having a week to spend before the grand palaver, Tom, with his usual energy, adopted measures to improve the military efficiency of the force. This he knew would be a matter of time and patience, and it was important to begin at once. His first care, naturally, was to strengthen their moral. He singled out the men who had distinguished themselves in the recent fighting, and had also shown general evidence of intelligence and aptitude, and these he placed in command of companies of a hundred men each. He selected a hundred to act as a body-guard to himself and the chief, and six of them, in addition to the katikiro, formed a sort of staff. There was great eagerness among the warriors to be enrolled among this special corps, and Tom decided to make enrolment in it a reward for good service. He drilled the men with particular care, and was gratified by the readiness with which they obeyed him, the exact attention they paid to all his instructions, and the quickness they showed in carrying them out.

On the second day after the defeat of the Arabs, Tom ordered the rescued slaves to be paraded before him, and offered them the alternatives of immediate freedom, in which case they would have to shift for themselves, and enrolment in the military force. They were delighted at the chance of fighting their late masters, and nine-tenths of them joyfully accepted the offer of service. A man who has been a slave, indeed, is usually very loth to accept absolute freedom, for he has become so accustomed to dependence as to lose all will-power, and the loss of a master means the loss of the means of living. The slaves were a very mixed lot, almost every tribe for a hundred miles round being represented among them--tall men and short men, cannibals and vegetarians; but Tom hoped that a little regular training and the memory of their past sufferings would induce a kind of esprit de corps, and that 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 own people, but by combined tact and firmness he succeeded in preventing any serious squabbles.

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

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

From the outset he had to face a difficulty in the want of firearms and ammunition. As a result of their recent victory the Bahima had become possessors of some two hundred rifles and muskets; but even with these they would make but a poor show against the hundreds of well-armed Arabs whom they might have to encounter. Besides, the ammunition recovered from the water was insignificant. There were a few unspoilt kegs of powder, and a few cases of cartridges for the rifles, but they were barely sufficient to provide eighty rounds a man. Further, as only a few of his troops had ever handled a gun of any kind, there would scarcely be more than enough ammunition to give the learners sufficient musketry practice. Tom was appalled, when he began to instruct them, at the waste due to their timidity, and to their tendency to use their weapons as playthings. Yet, with two hundred serviceable weapons, it seemed a pity that they should be useless, and he wondered whether by some means or other a further supply of at least powder might not be obtained.

On the third day after the despatch of the messengers, it occurred to him that it might be possible to manufacture some powder. From his earliest years he had been fond of "messing", as unappreciative seniors put it, from the making of toffee to the more or less successful manufacture of fireworks. He had picked up at odd times also, owing to this scientific curiosity, a certain working acquaintance with various industrial processes not directly connected with marine engineering, and knew that the constituents of gunpowder may be easily prepared from the raw material. But there was the rub; the absence of any one of the constituents would render the others useless. In the Congo Forest, with its hundreds of thousands of square miles of dense woodland, extending over a space as large as France and Spain together, there would be no lack of wood for charcoal; saltpetre he had found in considerable quantities within a mile from the village; but in addition to these a supply of sulphur was needed, and where was he to look for that?

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

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

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

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

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

The road for nearly half the distance was fairly easy, but it then became very rugged, and progress was slow and laborious. Tom found many traces of game, and in one place, approaching down wind, the party disturbed a large herd of elephants. Tom resisted the impulse to pursue them, although it cost him an effort, and pressed forward towards the peak, which was visible as a truncated cone of no great height, for the most part bare, but showing here and there patches of scrub and belts of forest growth. The party had started early in the day, but it was nearing sunset when they arrived within climbing distance of the peak, and Tom decided to camp for the night and begin prospecting next morning. Making an early start, he was on the slopes of the mountain not long after dawn, and then began a toilsome search for traces of sulphur in workable form. He felt sure that thousands of tons of the desired substance lay around him, but unless he could find it in the free state, or at least mechanically mixed with earth, with the rough-and-ready appliances he could devise on the spot it would be quite beyond his reach.

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

After several disappointments he at last came upon undoubted traces of sulphur from the combustion of a quantity of earth obtained very close to the crater. He wished to make another trial, but it was growing late, and his men implored him not to remain on the mountain after nightfall. His magic might suffice for the day, but nothing could preserve them from the wrath of Irungo if he found them within his gates during the hours of darkness. Their terror was so extreme that Tom reluctantly withdrew to the site of the previous night's camp; but at the first streak of daylight he roused his men, who were feeling the effects of their unaccustomed labours, and after breakfast led them back to the spot at which the only promising find of the previous day had been made. Removing nearly half a ton of earth, he made the experiment this time on a larger scale, and when the mass had burned for some two hours he was delighted to find a considerable quantity of crude sulphur in the little cavity beneath the pile. He had used up a large amount of wood in the process, for there was not sufficient sulphur in the ore materially to assist the process of combustion, but there was fortunately no lack of fuel within a few hundred yards of the place from which the ore was taken, and by nightfall Tom was in possession of some lumps of a dirty-brown substance which, when refined, might yield half their weight of pure sulphur. When darkness fell he piled up an unusually large heap of the ore, left a fire smouldering above it, and was rewarded in the morning with a correspondingly large quantity of crude sulphur in the receiver.

"This is glorious!" he said to Mbutu. "We have a good many pounds of stuff now; the next thing is to see if sufficiently pure sulphur can be refined from it to make powder. We can't do that here, at any rate; and besides, to-morrow is the day fixed for our grand palaver, so I think we must be content for the present with what we have, and come again if we find it successful. One thing is certain," his unspoken thought continued, "there's enough sulphur on this mountain to make powder for all the army corps in the world, and if only there were means of transit it might pay someone to lease it from the Congo Government. For all I know, in fact, I may be trespassing; but I fancy the authorities won't mind 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 they reached it, Mbutu all at once drew his master's attention to a fresh trail crossing their path from the east. There were the clear marks of men's feet, and also of small hoofs, which Mbutu declared were the hoof-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 and donkeys? You don't understand? Well, never mind. But I do hope that our affairs are not to be complicated by entirely unnecessary Europeans."

As he approached, he discerned unmistakeable signs of excitement in the village. Those of the people who were not engaged in their regular occupations were crowding towards the centre; and, looking over their heads from his higher position, Tom saw a smaller group, composed of the katikiro and some other of the principal men, gathered about a tall broad figure in white clothes and white topee, whose back at the moment was towards the gate by which Tom had entered. With him were several tall natives whose dress distinguished them as strangers, and at one point four well-laden donkeys were tethered, the object of great interest to all the urchins of the place.

"Hullo!" said Tom to himself, "this is very curious. There's decidedly a commercial 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 of casually at Mombasa or Kisumu, though I wonder what brings him to these remote parts. He's well armed; those rifles look uncommonly like Mausers. And there's a revolver in his belt. This is interesting."

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

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

Now at this time Kuboko presented a wholly different appearance from the Tom Burnaby of a few months before. His face and neck were scorched to a deep brick-red, save where they were covered with nearly five months' growth of hair. His form had filled out somewhat after he recovered from his illness. His clothes were indescribable. On his head, to keep off 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 than usually solemn Arab, and altogether he was not far wrong in his belief that not one of his friends would at first sight have recognized him. Consequently, when the respectful greetings of the katikiro and his friends at length apprised Herr Schwab that someone of importance had arrived, 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. Having addressed 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 having been unable to come to any conclusion about him, he turned to the native follower who was acting as interpreter, and through him asked whom he had the honour of addressing. Tom signed to Mbutu, who at once explained that it was, indeed, a great honour, since Kuboko was the acting chief of the village, which contained some two thousand five hundred souls, the biggest village between Tanganyika and the Nile. The German at once expressed his high consideration for his friend Kuboko--he thought he might call him his friend?--and he would be most happy if he could do some business with him. Perhaps his friend Kuboko knew a little English, for if he did, their intercourse would, he thought, be much facilitated.

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

"Fery goot, my friend," said the German. "I am fery glad. Now, I represent, vat you call stand for, ze great export house of Schlagintwert in Düsseldorf, and I can sell you anyzink--yes, anyzink at all, from Sheffield cutlery to Scotch visky. Yes, ve make in Düsseldorf a particularly goot brant of real old Scotch visky. Ve make also Birmingham screws, and Paisley sread; ve make Cumberland lead pencils and, vat you vill like ze best of all, Manchester soft goots--all made in Germany, my friend, and our terms are fipercentforcash. I say cash, but I mean to say, of course, ivory, or rubber, or anyzink else of vorth. Now, not often hafe I ze pleasure to meet 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 of pin-packetts, and I shall trust to take your essteemed orders for anyzink--anyzink vatefer, fipercentforcash, zanking you in an-ti-ci-pa-tion."

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

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

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

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

"Don't you remember Tom Burnaby, on board the Peninsular, and your kind 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 your oncle--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 call gorilla, Mr. Burnaby."

"Just what I thought myself," rejoined Tom with a laugh. "I'm getting acclimatized! But I haven't quite forgotten civilized ways, and I'm uncommonly glad to see you. It's I don't know how long since I spoke to a European, and if you'll come along to my hut I'll give you some Bass's ale or Devonshire cider (brewed in Mwonga, as we call this village), and anything else you like to order--prime Scotch beef, you know, and Southdown mutton; or Frankfort Bratwurst, eh? and we can have a comfortable 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. The katikiro has never seen a pin in his life, I fancy."

"Oh, but indeed he has! I hafe showed him a packett. He vas fery delighted. 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 hundert ten."

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

"No doubt at all; I could not do it so quick; but my house vill not be particular 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 his waist-cloth! No, I am very sorry, but I really must forbid the transaction. Between ourselves, Msala is a bit of a wag, and as likely as not he would make pin-cushions of all his dearest friends and get me into no end of hot water. No; cancel that order, and we'll see if we can do business in some other of your innumerable articles."

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

"I can't promise you real lager from München, or real Bass from Stuttgart," said Tom, laughing; "but you'll find our marwa very like cider, and we can supply plenty of that--say two and a half per cent for cash."

"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!"