Mutela was the native name for Van Vorst.
"Oh yes! He came two or three days ago."
"Are we on the right road?"
"Certainly. The camp is but a little way beyond us. I will lead you to it. You have heavy loads."
"Ah! Mutela is a man of riches. He has many pots, and many bottles, and very many coats for his back. And guns too; see, here is his elephant rifle. Mutela is a great hunter; a great man of war."
"True, he is a great man of war. Yesterday he killed a woman in the fort of the Inglesa. I saw it. I laughed; we all laughed; it was so funny! But who is in the litter?"
"A white officer. Oh yes! He is as great a man of war as Mutela. But he is sick; white men so easily turn sick! And he sleeps, although it is a rough road."
"Aha! It is a pity he is sick. Mutela will be sorry. Mutela is going to kill all the men in the Inglesa's fort. Lokolobolo they call him. Aha! we shall see how strong he is! See, there is the camp yonder through the trees."
When the party were still within some yards of the gate, the scout gave a hail. It was answered by a negro whose face appeared just above the stockade. By the time the leading men reached the gate it had been thrown open by one of Elbel's European subordinates, and a crowd of negro soldiers and hangers-on was collected to witness the entrance of the white officer and Mutela's baggage.
Lepoko, who had led the file, deposited his bundle just inside the gate and burst into a roar of laughter, holding his sides and bending his body in uncontrollable mirth. He was soon surrounded by a crowd of negroes, to whom he began to relate a very funny story; how Ekokoli, the daring Ekokoli, had mounted a crocodile's back just below the rapids, and had a splendid ride. The comical story set the throng laughing in chorus, and they begged to hear it again. Meanwhile, the rest of the carriers had filed in with their burdens, the litter had been set down, and the white officer, though so sick, stepped out quite briskly to greet the Belgian, whose attention was divided between the laughing negroes and his guest. At the same time the four bearers drew out from the litter a rifle apiece—for a sick man rifles surely made an uncomfortable couch!—and also half a dozen objects which to a man of Ilombekabasi would have looked suspiciously like fire-balls. From the packages which lay near the gate each of the other carriers with a single pull abstracted a Mauser or an Albini; while the two men who had staggered along at the end of the line under the weight of a clumsy heavy bundle dropped it in the gateway with a thud that suggested the fall of a rock rather than a carrier's ordinary load. It lay against the gate, preventing it from being closed.