"It needed two ropes to draw him up from the gully," said Mboyo. "I am strong, but though I had four men to help me it was hard work. He must be a very great chief."
"And the other must be a great chief too. Did not Samba say that Lokolobolo gave him his last bottle of devil water?"
"But the big man is hurt. It is the leg. It is not so bad as Ikola's; but Ikola was shot. They have put him in Barnio's hut; the other chief is with Lokolobolo. It is good that the white chiefs have come. Now Lokolobolo will sweep Elobela down the hillside, even as a straw in the storm."
"But what of the smoke-boat that Samba says is coming with the white men in white, and the black men in cloth the colour of straw, and things on their heads the colour of fire? Will Lokolobolo be able to beat them too?"
"Lokolobolo is able to beat all Bula Matadi; and he has the other white men to help. Never fear! Lokolobolo will beat them all. We shall see. There he is, coming out of his hut with the white chief. Lokolobolo wanda!"[[1]]
"You must be a proud man to-day, Mr. Challoner," said the stranger.
"I am too anxious to be proud," said Jack with a smile. "I haven't the heart to stop them shouting and making a noise, but it's a pity to disturb our enemy in the camp down yonder. I shall have to go and make a speech to them, I suppose; it is more in your line than mine, Mr. Arlington. Luckily I'm not sufficiently fluent in their language to be long-winded."
They went together into the midst of the throng.
When within three marches of Ilombekabasi Jack's party had stumbled upon a wretched encampment in the forest which proved to contain two white men and three negroes. Samba came upon them first, and, startled to find white men at this spot, he was cocking his rifle, supposing them to be State officers, when one of them called to him in a Congo dialect not to shoot; he was an Inglesa. When Jack came up he found that the taller of the two men, the one who had spoken, a huge fellow with a great black beard, was a missionary named Dathan, the other being the Honourable George Arlington, with whose name Jack was familiar. Mr. Arlington was a man of mark. After a brilliant career at Cambridge he had entered Parliament, and became an Under-Secretary of State at a younger age than almost any one before him. When his party was out of office he took the opportunity of travelling in many quarters of the globe, to study at first hand the great problems which more and more demand the attention of British statesmen. Now, in his fortieth year, he was recognized as an authority on the subjects which he had so specially made his own. He had come out to make a personal study of the Congo question, and in order to secure freedom of observation had decided to enter Congo territory, not from Boma, whence he would be shadowed throughout by officials, but from British territory through Uganda. In Unyoro he had met his old college chum Frank Dathan, now a missionary engaged on a tour of inspection of his Society's work in Central Africa. Dathan, having completed his task in Uganda, was to make his way into the Congo State and visit several mission stations there. The two friends thereupon arranged to travel together.
Mr. Arlington being anxious to see a little of what was an almost unexplored part of Africa, they chose as their route the northern fringe of the great forest. But they got into difficulties when they entered country which, though not yet "administered," or "exploited," was nominally Free State territory. At the sight of white men the natives they met with one accord took to the woods. The result was that the travellers were once or twice nearly starved; many of their carriers deserted with their loads; and they both suffered a good deal from exposure and privation. To crown their misfortunes, Dathan fell with a loose rock one day when he was climbing down a steep bank to get water, and broke his leg. Arlington tried without success to set the bone, and was hurrying on in the hope of finding a Free State outpost and a doctor when Jack came upon them.