"You're predisposed in his favour. Naturally. Well, keep an open mind. Don't be in a hurry to decide. That's an old man's advice. I'm nearly seventy, my lad, and the older I get the more I learn. With people, now--there's the man who falls on the neck of the first comer, and wishes he hadn't. There's the man who stiffens his back and freezes, and then finds that he's lost his chance of making a friend. Don't be like either: 'prove all things'--and men--'and hold fast to that which is good.' H'm! I'm beginning to preach: sure sign of dotage.--You haven't seen a view like that before."
It was indeed a new and an enchanting experience to Tom Willoughby, this voyage on the vast lake, or inland sea, that stretches for four hundred miles in the heart of equatorial Africa. Looking eastward to the nearer shore, he beheld a high bank richly clad with forest jungle, fringed and festooned with lovely creepers and climbing plants. Below, the blue waters, tossed by a south-east breeze, broke high upon a wilderness of rugged rocks; above, masses of cloud raced across the green heights, revealing now and then patches of bare brown rock, now and then the misty tops of distant mountains. The coastline was variegated with headlands, creeks, and bays; southward could be discerned the bold mountainous promontory of Kungwe. Here and there Arab dhows with their triangular sails and the low log canoes of native fishermen hugged the shore; and birds with brilliant plumage glittered and flashed as they darted in and out among the foliage or swooped down upon the surface in search of food.
Tom feasted his eyes on these novel scenes until a bugle summoned the passengers to luncheon. He would have found it a slow meal but for his new friend. They were placed side by side at some distance from the captain, the intervening seats being occupied by the Germans. The planters talked shop among themselves, and Tom was amused at the obsequious gratitude they showed to Major von Rudenheim, the newly arrived German officer, when he dispensed them a word now and then, as a man throws a bone to a dog. The major had the place of honour next the captain, whose bearing towards him was scarcely less deferential. Through the meal the two Englishmen were almost ignored by the rest. Afterwards, however, when the planters had returned to their cards and Major von Rudenheim and Mr. Barkworth had both disappeared, Captain Goltermann came up to Tom where he sat alone on deck.
"Fine country, Mr. Villoughby," he said pleasantly. "I hope you like zis trip."
"Thanks, captain, it's quite charming; but I'm not what we call a tripper."
"So! It is business, not pleasure, zat bring you? But zere shall be pleasure and business, I zink. If I can assist you----"
"Thanks again. I expect Mr. Reinecke to meet me at Bismarckburg."
"Mr. Reinecke! He is great friend of mine. You are lucky to go to him--as pupil, perhaps?"
It seemed to Tom that the amiable captain was trying to pump him, and he smiled inwardly.
"I daresay I could learn a good deal from Mr. Reinecke," he said, guardedly, but with great amiability.