"Ah!" roared Winkleman with satisfaction. "I thought I would your interest catch! But it is true; and in the central Congo."
"But that would throw the prehistoric Libyan and Hamitic migrations farther to the west than----"
"Pre-cisely!" interrupted Winkleman.
"What sort of people were they? Did they show Hamitic characteristics particularly? or did they incline to the typical prognathous, short-legged, stealopygous type of the Bushmen?"
But Winkleman reverted abruptly to his narrative.
"That is a long discussion to make. It will wait. But just as I get these people where I can put them beneath my observation, so, there comes an ober-lieutenant with foolishness in the way of guns and uniform and askaris and that nonsense; and my little people run into the forest and are no more to be seen."
"Hard luck!" commented Kingozi feelingly.
"Is it not so? This ober-lieutenant is a fool. He knows nothing. Dumkopf! All he knows is to give me a letter from the Kaiserliche dumkopf at Dar-es-salaam. I read it. It tells me I must come here, to this place, with speed, and get the military aid of this M'tela and so forth with many details. It was another foolishness. I know this type of people well. There is nothing new to be learned. They are of the usual types. It is foolishness to come here. But it is an order, so I come, and I do my best. But now I am a prisoner, while I might be with the little people in the Congo. I talk much."
"I fancy we are going to have a good deal to talk about," interjected Kingozi.
"Ach! that is true! That is what I said--that I am glad this is Culbertson who catches me. Yes! We must talk!"