The village from which I had done so much hunting and where I was so profusely “fêted” had acquired great riches with the meat I had given the people. In spite of this, or, perhaps, because of this, they showed great opposition to my going. At first I paid no attention to their protests, continuing calmly my preparations for departure, weighing and marking my ivory, etc. When my loads were ready I announced my intention of leaving on the morrow. This was wrong. What I should have done was to have kept my intention entirely to myself, then suddenly to have fallen in the boys, shouldered the loads and marched off. All would then have been well.
As it was, when the morrow came the boys did not. They could not be found. I could not move my loads without them.
I found the headman, accused him of playing this mean trick, and demanded the boys. He then tried all the persuasions he could think of to get me to stay. He offered me any women I fancied. That is always the first inducement in the African mind. Slaves, food, anything I wanted if I would only stay.
I got angry and cursed him and threatened to shoot up the town. He said quietly that the king was coming and I could talk to him.
THE PALAVER WITH THE KING.
The boy in the foreground, interpreting, was nearly eaten by the natives, who pleaded, in excuse, that it was their custom to eat all of that tribe that they came across.
Meanwhile I had to wait. I was simply furious. The suspicion that they were after my ivory kept poisoning my mind. I argued with myself that they knew the value of ivory; that they knew what a lot of gin and “trade” they would get if they took my tusks to the coast. And a white man, a hunter of elephants, “done in,” what would it matter? People would say: “Serve him right,” probably. Then they wanted my rifle. They had seen it kill elephant with one shot. It had wonderful medicine. Curious how near we are to the primitive. I thought of shooting someone; I actually wished to shoot someone. But that would not have helped matters. Then sense and experience came to help me and—I laughed. As soon as I laughed they laughed. I felt master of the situation.
Where was the king? Drinking beer. Let me talk to him.
I sat down in front of my hut. In a short time the king arrived with an escort of some forty guns. He seated himself in front of a hut directly across the street from me. I wanted to shake hands with him, but I did not wish to take my rifle with me, nor did I wish to leave it behind me, as it was to play a part in the comedy I had thought out.