He went on board the Zaire that night and lay awake listening to the castanets of the dancing women—the Kiko made merry to celebrate the triumph of their diplomacy.
Sanders left next day for the Isisi, having no doubt in his mind that the news of his concession had preceded him. So it proved, for at Lukalili no sooner had he taken his place in the speech-house than the chief opened the proceedings.
"Lord Sandi," he began, "we are poor men, and our people cry out against taxation. Now, lord, we have thought largely on this matter, and this say the people: 'If your lordship would remit one-half our taxes we should be happy, for this puc-a-puc'——"
Sanders waved him down.
"Chiefs and people," he said, "I am patient, because I love you. But talk to me more about taxation and about puc-a-pucs, and I will find a new chief for me, and you will wish that you had never been born."
After that Sanders had no further trouble.
He came to the Ochori, and found Bosambo, wholly engrossed with his new baby, but ripe for action.
"Bosambo," said the Commissioner, after he had gingerly held the new-comer and bestowed his natal present, "I have a story to tell you."
He told his story, and Bosambo found it vastly entertaining.
Five days later, when Sanders was on his way home, Bosambo with ten picked men for paddlers, came sweeping up the river, and beached at Kiko city.