They did not know what a raft was, neither did they appreciate the size of a ton, but Carter demonstrated to them, and White-Man's-Trouble kept them from forgetting. The Krooboy had found a chiquot, and, from having felt chiquots across all parts of his own person many a time, was well qualified to wield such a baton of authority. Carter picked out suitable cotton woods, and the Krooboy apportioned out the cutters, and stayed beside them till their work was done.
They handspiked the logs down to the water, again having to be instructed in this most elementary piece of mechanics, laid cross-pieces at right angles, and lashed all tightly together with lianes. Then when they had built up the interstices between the logs with large pieces of tin-stone, they carried down the smaller ore in baskets till the logs were sunk to three-quarters draught.
Next they built a house on the raft and covered it with thatch, and in part of the house they piled a great store of dried fish as provision for the voyage. And all the while the ju-ju organ behind them boomed out at intervals its dismal boo-paa-bumm, bumm-paa-boo.
Now although Carter had been a trader long enough to get very African notions of the negro and his ways, still he had an Englishman's natural bias against forced labor. White-Man's-Trouble, who did not see the desirability of working if others would do it for him, openly suggested pressing what hands were required for navigation. But Carter said no. He had no money to pay them with on arrival, and the lower castes of Africans do not understand the delights of having outstanding accounts with the white man for labor performed. The Krooboy and he must struggle down the creeks and find the channel themselves.
White-Man's-Trouble sniffed and scratched himself, and said they would see. And presently when the time came for departure the usual African surprise descended upon them surely enough. Seven naked savages from the fishers' village squatted on the raft and refused to budge. Their arguments were simple. Carter was a great ju-ju man. They knew he was great, because since he came the boo-baa-bumm noises had been incessant. Moreover, these were beneficent noises, since whilst they filled the air no one had died in the village from leopard, crocodile, or alien spear. They therefore adopted him as their master.
"Oh, but look here," said Carter, "I can't do this. It means I should be a slave-holder, neither more nor less. Besides, with you seven great lumps sitting there, the raft's awash. If I take you I shall have to jettison some of my tin-stone."
But they had no further arguments. They sat placid. They had lived in cousinship with fear all their squalid lives, and here at last had arrived the strong man who could certainly protect them if he would. And they intended he should.
Carter thought for a minute, and then, "I won't have it," said he. "Trouble, drive them ashore."
White-Man's-Trouble spoke, and nothing happened. He laced into their bare backs with his chiquot, but still they did not budge. One of them, who seemed to be spokesman, merely talked to him quietly.
The Krooboy explained. "Dem bushmen very uneducate. Dey say if you no take 'em dey lib for die. Dem big black fellow there wid one ear, he say if you no take him, he walk into dem ribber an' be crocodile chop."