Thereupon Gaudian set about questioning me, and his questions were very thorough. I knew just enough and no more to get through, but I think I came out with credit. You see I have a capacious memory, and in my time I had met scores of hunters and pioneers and listened to their yarns, so I could pretend to knowledge of a place even when I hadn’t been there. Besides, I had once been on the point of undertaking a job up Tanganyika way, and I had got up that country-side pretty accurately.
“You say that with our help you can make trouble for the British on the three borders?” Gaudian asked at length.
“I can spread the fire if some one else will kindle it,” I said.
“But there are thousands of tribes with no affinities.”
“They are all African. You can bear me out. All African peoples are alike in one thing—they can go mad, and the madness of one infects the others. The English know this well enough.”
“Where would you start the fire?” he asked.
“Where the fuel is dryest. Up in the North among the Mussulman peoples. But there you must help me. I know nothing about Islam, and I gather that you do.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because of what you have done already,” I answered.
Stumm had translated all this time, and had given the sense of my words very fairly. But with my last answer he took liberties. What he gave was: “Because the Dutchman thinks that we have some big card in dealing with the Moslem world.” Then, lowering his voice and raising his eyebrows, he said some word like “Ühnmantl”.