LITMIR.BIZ

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the test.

      Bosambo, in his most lordly way, had ordered a big hunting, and he and his men were assembling in the village street when the king and his councillors approached.

      "Lord," said the king mildly, "I have that within me which I must tell."

      "Say on," said Bosambo.

      "Now, I love you, Bosambo," said the chief, "and the thought that I must speed you on your way – with presents – is very sad to me."

      "More sad to me," said Bosambo ominously.

      "Yet lord," said the desperate chief, "I must, for my people are very fierce with me that I keep you so long within our borders. Likewise, there is much sickness, and I fear lest you and your beautiful men also become sick, and die."

      "Only one man in all the world, chief," said Bosambo, speaking with deliberation, "has ever put such shame upon me – and, king, that man – where is he?"

      The king of the Kiko did not say, because he did not know. He could guess – oh, very well he could guess! – and Bosambo's next words justified his guesswork.

      "He is dead," said Bosambo solemnly. "I will not say how he died, lest you think I am a boastful one, or whose hand struck him down, for fear you think vainly – nor as to the manner of his dying, for that would give you sorrow!"

      "Bosambo," said the agitated chief of the Kiko, "these are evil words – "

      "I say no evil words," said Bosambo, "for I am, as you know, the brother-in-law of Sandi, and it would give him great grief. I say nothing, O little king!"

      With a lofty wave of his hand he strode away, and, gathering his men together, he marched them to the beach.

      It was in vain that the chief of the Kiko had stored food in enormous quantities and presents in each canoe, that bags of salt were evenly distributed amongst the paddlers.

      Bosambo, it is true, did not throw them back upon the shore, but he openly and visibly scorned them. The king, standing first on one foot and then on the other, in his anxiety and embarrassment, strove to give the parting something of a genial character, but Bosambo was silent, forbidding, and immensely gloomy.

      "Lord," said the chief, "when shall my heart again be gladdened at the sight of your pretty face?"

      "Who knows?" said Bosambo mysteriously. "Who can tell when I come, or my friends! For many men love me – Isisi, N'gombi, Akasava, Bongindi, and the Bush people."

      He stepped daintily into his canoe.

      "I tell you," he said, wagging a solemn forefinger, "that whatever comes to you, it is no palaver of mine; whoever steals quietly upon you in the night, it will not be Bosambo – I call all men to witness this saying."

      And with this he went.

      There was a palaver that night, where all men spoke at once, and the Kiko king did not more than bite his nails nervously. It was certain that attack would come.

      "Let us meet them boldly," said the one who had beforetime rendered such advice. "For in times of cala-cala the Kiko folk were fierce and bloody people."

      Whatever they might have been once, there was no spirit of adventure abroad then, and many voices united to call the genius who had suggested defiance a fool and worse.

      All night long the Kiko stood a nation in arms.

      Once the hooting of a bird sent them scampering to their huts with howls of fear; once a wandering buffalo came upon a quaking picket and scattered it. Night after night the fearful Kiko kept guard, sleeping as they could by day.

      They saw no enemy; the suspense was worse than the vision of armed warriors. A messenger went to Sanders about the fears and apprehensions of the people, but Sanders was callous.

      "If any people attack you, I will come with my soldiers, and for every man of you who dies, I will kill one of your enemies."

      "Lord," said the messenger, none other than the king's son, "if we are dead, we care little who lives or dies. Now, I ask you, master, to send your soldiers with me, for our people are tired and timid."

      "Be content," said Sanders, "that I have remitted your taxation – the palaver is finished."

      The messenger returned to his dismal nation – Sanders at the time was never more than a day's journey from the Kiko – and a sick and weary people sat down in despair to await the realisation of their fears.

      They might have waited throughout all eternity, for Bosambo was back in his own city, and had almost forgotten them, and Isisi and the Akasava, regarding them for some reason as Sanders' urglebes, would have no more thought of attacking them than they would have considered the possibility of attacking Sanders; and as for the N'gombi, they had had their lesson.

      Thus matters stood when the Lulungo people, who live three days beyond the Akasava, came down the river looking for loot and trouble.

      The Lulungo people are an unlovable race; "a crabbed, bitter, and a beastly people," Sanders once described them in his wrath.

      For two years the Lulungo folk had lain quiet, then, like foraging and hungry dogs, they took the river trail – six canoes daubed with mud and rushes.

      They found hospitality of a kind in the fishing villages, for the peaceable souls who lived therein fled at the first news of the visitation.

      They came past the Ochori warily keeping to midstream. Time was when the Ochori would have supplied them with all their requirements, but nowadays these men of Bosambo's snapped viciously.

      "None the less," said Gomora, titular chief of the Lulungo, to his headmen, "since we be so strong the Ochori will not oppose us – let two canoes paddle to land."

      The long boats were detached from the fleet and headed for the beach. A shower of arrows fell short of them, and they turned back.

      The Isisi country they passed, the Akasava they gave the widest of berths to, for the Lulungo folk are rather cruel than brave, better assassins than fighting men, more willing to kill coldly than in hot blood. They went lurching down the river, seizing such loot as the unprotected villages gave them.

      It was a profitless expedition.

      "Now we will go to Kiko," said Gomora; "for these people are very rich, and, moreover, they are fearful. Speak to my people, and say that there shall be no killing, for that devil Sandi hates us, and he will incite the tribes against us, as he did in the days of my father."

      They waited till night had fallen, and then, under the shadow of the river bank, they moved silently upon their prey.

      "We will frighten them," confided Gomora; "and they will give us what we ask; then we will make them swear by Iwa that they will not speak to Sandi – it will be simple."

      The Lulungo knew the Kiko folk too well, and they landed at a convenient place, making their way through the strip of forest without the display of caution which such a manoeuvre would have necessitated had it been employed against a more warlike nation.

* * * * *

      Sanders, hurrying down stream, his guns swung out and shotted for action, his armed Houssas sitting in the bow of the steamer, met two canoes, unmistakably Lulungo.

      He circled and captured them. In one was Gomora, a little weak from loss of blood, but more bewildered.

      "Lord," he said bitterly, "all this world is changed since you have come; once the Ochori were meat for me and my people, being very timorous. Then by certain magic they became fierce fighters. And now, lord, the Kiko folk, who, up and down the river, are known for their gentleness, have become like devils."

      Sanders waited, and the chief went on:

      "Last night we came to the Kiko, desiring to rest with them, and in the dark of the forest they fell upon us, with great screaming; and, behold! of ten canoes these men are all I have left, for the Kiko were waiting for our coming."

      He looked earnestly at Sanders.

      "Tell me, lord," he said, "what magic do white men use to make warriors from cowards?"

      "That is not for your

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