He lit a cigar and lay back in the canoe. Jack turned flat on his face and watched the launch. It was soon clear that Nando's plan was impossible. The launch was a swift one: it came on with increased speed, and when within hailing distance a voice in French called peremptorily upon the canoe to stop.
"Nando, stop paddling," said Mr. Martindale, leisurely turning round on his seat. "Answer their hail, Jack."
"Who are you?" shouted Jack in English.
The foreigner in the bow of the launch was somewhat taken aback. He had thought to do the questioning, not to be questioned. But he replied stiffly—
"I am Monsieur Elbel, of de Société Cosmopolite du Commerce du Congo."
The launch was now within a few yards of the canoe. Monsieur Elbel was a short thick-set man with reddish hair, and a thick red moustache that stuck out rigidly a couple of inches on each side of his nose. He wore a white topee and white trousers, but his coat was blue, with brass buttons, and gold lace at the shoulders. All but himself on deck were negroes.
Mr. Martindale ordered the paddlers to bring the canoe round, so that he might face the Belgian. Then, still seated, he blew out a cloud of smoke and said—
"Well, I don't know you, Mr. Elbel, and if the work in Banonga yonder is due to you I don't wish to. Paddle ahead, Nando."
The crew looked somewhat awestruck, but obediently dropped their paddles into the stream. Monsieur Elbel's cheeks had turned a fiery red several shades deeper than his hair, and the veins upon his forehead swelled. The canoe sped past him while he was still endeavouring to collect himself. Suddenly a tall negro at his side threw out his hand, exclaiming: "Ok'ok'ok'oka!"[[2]]
The Belgian looked in the direction pointed out, and the negro followed up his exclamation with a rapid excited sentence. Monsieur Elbel at once sent the launch in pursuit of the canoe, ran her alongside, and cried: