Bosambo replied in Arabic.

“Ho, Bosambo!” said Abdul. “Do you know me?”

“Sheik,” said Bosambo, “I would know you in hell, for you are the man whose head my master desires.”

“Bosambo,” said Abdul calmly, “your head is more valuable, so they say, for the Liberians will put it upon a pole, and pay me riches for my enterprise.”

Bosambo laughed softly. “Let the palaver finish,” he said, “I am ready to go.”

They brought him to the river again, tied him to a pole, and laid him in the bottom of a canoe, Arachi guarding him.

Bosambo, looking up, saw the borrower squatting on guard.

“Arachi,” he said, “if you untie my hands, it shall go easy with you.”

“If I untie your hands,” said Arachi frankly, “I am both a fool and a dead man, and neither of these conditions is desirable.”

“To every man,” quoth Bosambo, “there is an easy kill somewhere, and, if he misses this, all kills are difficult.” [The native equivalent for “opportunity knocks,” etc.–E.W.]

Four big canoes composed the water-way caravan. Abdul was in the largest with his soldiers, and led the van. They moved quickly down the tiny stream, which broadened as it neared the river. Then Abdul’s headman suddenly gasped. “Look!” he whispered.

The slaver turned his head. Behind them, paddling leisurely, came four canoes, and each was filled with armed men.

“Quickly,” said Abdul, and the paddlers stroked furiously, then stopped. Ahead was the Zaire, a trim, white steamer, alive with Houssas.

“It is God’s will,” said Abdul. “These things are ordained.”

He said no more until he stood before Sanders, and the Commissioner was not especially communicative.

“What will you do with me?” asked Abdul.

“I will tell you when I have seen your stores,” said Sanders. “If I find rifles such as the foolish Lobolo people buy, I shall hang you according to law.”

The Arab looked at the shaking Arachi. The borrower’s knees wobbled fearfully. “I see,” said Abdul thoughtfully, “that this man whom I made rich has betrayed me.”

If he had hurried or moved jerkily Sanders would have prevented the act; but the Arab searched calmly in the fold of his bournous as though seeking a cigarette. His hand came out, and with it a curved knife. Then he struck quickly, and Arachi went blubbering to the deck, a dying man.

“Borrower,” said the Arab, and he spoke from the centre of six Houssas who were chaining him, so that he was hidden from the sobbing figure on the floor, “I think you have borrowed that which you can at last repay. For it is written in the Sura of the Djinn that from him who takes a life, let his life be taken, that he may make full repayment.”

Bosambo Of The River (1914)

CHAPTER II

THE TAX RESISTERS

Sanders took nothing for granted when he accounted for native peoples. These tribes of his possessed an infinite capacity for unexpectedness–therein lay at once their danger and their charm. For one could neither despair at their sin nor grow too confidently elated at their virtue, knowing that the sun which went down on the naughtiness of the one and the dovelike placidity of the other, might rise on the smouldering sacrificial fires in the streets of the blessed village, and reveal the folk of the incorrigible sitting at the doors of their huts, dust on head, hands outspread in an agony of penitence.

Yet it seemed that the people of Kiko were models of deportment, thrift, and intelligence, and that the gods had given them beautiful natures.

Kiko, a district of the Lower Isisi, is separated from all other tribes and people by the Kiko on the one side, the Isisi River on the other, and on the third by clumps of forest land set at irregular intervals in the Great Marsh. Kiko proper stretches from the marsh to the tongue of land at the confluence of the Kiko and Isisi, in the shape of an irregular triangle.

To the eastward, across the Kiko River, are the unruly N’gombi tribes; to the westward, on the farther bank of the big river, are the Akasava; and the Kiko people enjoy an immunity from sudden attack, which is due in part to its geographical position, and in part to the remorseless activities of Mr. Commissioner Sanders.

Once upon a time a king of the N’gombi called his headmen and chiefs together to a great palaver. “It seems to me,” he said, “that we are children. For our crops have failed because of the floods, and the thieving Ochori have driven the game into their own country. Now, across the river are the Kiko people, and they have reaped an oat harvest; also, there is game in plenty. Must we sit and starve whilst the Kiko swell with food?”

A fair question, though the facts were not exactly stated, for the N’gombi were lazy, and had sown late; also the game was in their forest for the searching, but, as the saying is, “The N’gombi hunts from his bed and seeks only cooked meats.”

One night the N’gombi stole across the river and fell upon Kiko city, establishing themselves masters of the country. There was a great palaver, which was attended by the chief and headman of the Kiko.

“Henceforward,” said the N’gombi king–Tigilini was his name–“you are as slaves to my people, and if you are gentle and good and work in the fields you shall have one-half of all you produce, for I am a just man, and very merciful. But if you rebel, I will take you for my sport.”

Lest any misunderstanding should exist, he took the first malcontent, who was a petty chief of a border village, and performed his programme. This man had refused tribute, and was led, with roped hands, before the king, all headmen having been summoned to witness the happening. The rebel was bound with his hands behind him, and was ordered to kneel. A young sapling was bent over, and one end of a native rope was fixed to its topmost branches, and the other about his neck. The tree was slowly released till the head of the offender was held taut.

“Now!” said the king, and his executioner struck off the head, which was flung fifty yards by the released sapling.

It fell at the feet of Mr. Commissioner Sanders, who, with twenty-five Houssas and a machine gun, had just landed from the Zaire.

Sanders was annoyed; he had travelled three days and four nights with little sleep, and he had a touch of fever, which made him irritable. He walked into the village and interrupted an eloquent address on the obligations of the conquered, which the N’gombi thief thought it opportune to deliver.

He stopped half-way through, his speech, and lost a great deal of interest in the proceedings as the crowd divided to allow of Sanders’s approach.

“Lord,” said Tigilini, that quick and subtle man, “you have come at a proper time, for these people were in rebellion against your lordship, and I have subdued them.