“Nay. He offered two bags of gold and ten guns to any who would guide him thither, but unfortunately neither myself nor any of my followers knew its whereabouts.”
“Why did this tou bab (European) desire to discover it?” I asked.
“He did not reveal. I told him that within the rock was the place of torment prepared for unbelievers, but my words only increased his curiosity and anxiety to find it,” and the thick-lipped headman grinned.
“Then thou canst give me absolutely no information,” I observed, disappointedly. “Hast thou, in the course of thy many journeys afar, learned nothing of its existence beyond what the wise men and story-tellers relate?”
“Since I left Masaka I have, in truth, learned one thing,” he answered, his capacious mouth still full of food.
“What is it? Tell me,” I cried.
Ngalyema hesitated for a moment, then answered,—
“Three moons ago, during a raid upon one of the villages of the Wambutti pigmies, three days’ march into the forest from Ipoto, one of the dwarfs of the woods who fell into our hands told me he knew the whereabouts of the rock, and that it was far away, many, many days’ journey in the forest, and quite inaccessible.”
“In which direction?”
“I know not,” the headman answered. “The dwarf had been wounded by a gunshot, and pleaded for the release of his wife. I kept him while I settled a dispute which had arisen about some ivory we had discovered in the settlement, intending to question him further, but when I returned to where I had left him he was dead.”