Siskolo passed over the insult without a word.
"Lord Sandi," he said, dropping into the vernacular, for he received little encouragement to proceed in the language which was Sanders's own. "Lord Sandi, I am glad in my heart that I go to see my brother Bosambo, that I may take him by the hand. As to his treasure, I do not doubt that he has more than most men, for Bosambo is a very cunning man, as I know. I am taking him rich presents, amongst them a clock, which goes by machinery, from my own store, which could not be bought at any Coast port under three dollars, and also lengths and pieces of cloth."
Mr. Siskolo was up early in a morning of July. Mr. Siskolo in a tall hat—his frock coat carefully folded and deposited in the little deckhouse on the canoe, and even his trousers protected against the elements by a piece of cardboard box—set out on the long journey which separated him from his beloved brother.
In a country where time does not count, and where imagination plays a very small part, travelling is a pleasant though lengthy business. It was a month and three days before Siskolo came to the border of his brother's territory. He was two miles from Ochori city when he arrayed himself in the hat, the frock coat, and the trousers of civilisation that he might make an entry in a manner befitting one who was of kin to a great and wealthy prince.
Bosambo received the news of his brother's arrival with something akin to perturbation.
"If this man is indeed my brother," he said, "I am a happy man, for he owes me four dollars he borrowed cala-cala and has never repaid."
Yet he was uneasy. Relations have a trick of producing curious disorder in their hosts. This is not peculiar to any race or colour, and it was with a feeling of apprehension that Bosambo in his state dress went solemnly in procession to meet his brother.
In his eagerness Siskolo stepped out of the canoe before it was grounded, and waded ashore to greet his brother.
"You are indeed my brother—my own brother Bosambo," he said, and embraced him tenderly. "This is a glorious day to me."
"To me," said Bosambo, "the sun shines twice as bright and the little birds sing very loudly, and I feel so glad, that I could dance. Now tell me, Siskolo," he went on, striking a more practical note, "why did you come all this way to see me? For I am a poor man, and have nothing to give you."