The Houssa retired.
"And," said Sanders, retailing the matter to the convalescent officer next morning, "I consider that I showed more than ordinary self-restraint in not kicking both of them to the devil."
"You're a great man," said the Houssa officer. "You'll become a colonial-made gentleman one of these days, unless you're jolly careful."
Sanders passed in silence the Houssa's gibe at the Companionship of St. Michael and St. George, and, moreover, C.M.G.'s were not likely to come his way whilst Abdul Hazim was still at large.
He was in an unpleasant frame of mind when Arachi came swiftly in a borrowed canoe, paddled by four men whom he had engaged at an Isisi village, on a promise of payment which it was very unlikely he would ever be able to fulfil.
"Master," said Arachi solemnly, "I come desiring to serve your lordship, for I am too great a man for my village, and, if no chief, behold, I have a chief's thoughts."
"And a chief's hut," said Sanders dryly, "if all they tell me is true."
Arachi winced.
"Lord," he said humbly, "all things are known to you, and your eye goes forth like a chameleon's tongue to see round the corners."
Sanders passed over the unpleasant picture Arachi suggested.
"Arachi," he said, "it happens that you have come at a moment when you can serve me, for there is in my camp a strange man from a far-away land, who knows not this country, yet desires to cross it. Now, since you know the Angola tongue, you shall take him in your canoe to the edge of the Frenchi land, and there you shall put him on his way. And for this I will pay your paddlers. And as for you, I will remember you in the day of your need."
It was not as Arachi could have wished, but it was something. The next day he departed importantly.
Before he left, Sanders gave him a word of advice.
"Go you, Arachi," he said, "by the Little Kusu River."
"Lord," said Arachi, "there is a shorter way by the creek of Still Waters. This goes to the Frenchi land, and is deep enough for our purpose."
"It is a short way and a long way," said Sanders grimly. "For there sits a certain Abdul Hazim who is a great buyer of men, and, because the Angola folk are wonderful gardeners, behold, the Arab is anxious to come by them. Go in peace."
"On my head," said Arachi, and took his leave.
It was rank bad luck that he should meet on his way two of his principal creditors. These, having some grievance in the matter of foodstuffs, advanced, desiring to do him an injury, but, on his earnest entreaties, postponed the performance of their solemn vows.
"It seems," said one of them, "that you are now Sandi's man, for though I do not believe anything you have told me, yet these paddlers do not lie."
"Nor this silent one," said Arachi, pointing to his charge proudly. "And because I alone in all the land can make palaver with him, Sandi has sent me on a mission to certain kings. These will give me presents, and on my return I will pay you what I owe, and much more for love."
They let him pass.
It may be said that Arachi, who lent "to none and believed no man," had no faith whatever in his lord's story. Who the silent Angola was, what was his mission, and why he had been chosen to guard the stranger, Arachi did not guess.
He would have found an easy way to understanding if he had believed all that Sanders had told him, but that was not Arachi's way.
On a night when the canoe was beached on an island, and the paddlers prepared the noble Arachi's food, the borrower questioned his charge.
"How does it happen, foreigner," he asked, "that my friend and neighbour, Sandi, asks me of my kindness to guide you to the French land?"
"Patron," said the Angola man, "I am a stranger, and desire to escape from slavery. Also, there is a small Angola-Balulu tribe, which are of my people and faith, who dwell by the Frenchi tribe."
"What is your faith?" asked Arachi.
"I believe in devils and ju-jus," said the Angola man simply, "especially one called Billimi, who has ten eyes and spits at snakes. Also, I hate the Arabi, that being part of my faith."
This gave Arachi food for thought, and some reason for astonishment that Sandi should have spoken the truth to him.
"What of this Abdul Arabi?" he asked. "Now I think that Sandi lied to me when he said such an one buys men, for, if this be so, why does he not raid the Isisi?"
But the Angola man shook his head.
"These are matters too high for my understanding," he said. "Yet I know that he takes the Angola because they are great gardeners, and cunning in the pruning of trees."
Again Arachi had reason for thinking profoundly.
This Abdul, as he saw, must come to the Upper River for the people of the Lesser Akasava, who were also great gardeners. He would take no Isisi, because they were notoriously lazy, and moreover, died with exasperating readiness when transplanted to a foreign soil.
He continued his journey till he came to the place where he would have turned off had he taken a short cut to the French territory.
Here he left his paddlers and his guest, and made his way up the creek of Still Waters.
Half-a-day's paddling brought him to the camp of Abdul. The slaver's silent runners on the bank had kept pace with him, and when Arachi landed he was seized by men who sprang apparently from nowhere.
"Lead me to your master, O common men," said Arachi, "for I am a chief of the Isisi, and desire a secret palaver."
"If you are Isisi, and by your thinness and your boasting I see that you are," said his captor, "my lord Abdul will make easy work of you."
Abdul Hazim was short and stout, and a lover of happiness. Therefore he kept his camp in that condition of readiness which enabled him to leave quickly at the first sight of a white helmet or a Houssa's tarboosh.
For it would have brought no happiness to Abdul had Sanders come upon him.
Now, seated on a soft-hued carpet of silk before the door of his little tent, he eyed Arachi dubiously, and listened in silence while the man spoke of himself.
"Kaffir," he said, when the borrower had finished, "how do I know that you do not lie, or that you are not one of Sandi's spies? I think I should be very clever if I cut your throat."
Arachi explained at length why Abdul Hazim should not cut his throat.
"If you say this Angola man is near by, why should I not take him without payment?" asked the slaver.
"Because," said Arachi, "this foreigner is not the only man in the country, and because I have great influence with Sandi, and am beloved by all manner of people who trust me. I may bring many other men to your lordship."
Arachi returned to the camp, towing a small canoe with which the slaver had provided him.
He woke the Angola stranger from his sleep.
"Brother," he said, "here is a canoe with food. Now I tell you to paddle one day up this creek of Still Waters and there await my coming, for there are evil men about, and I fear for your safety."
The Angolan, simple man that he was, obeyed. Half a day's journey up the creek Abdul's men were waiting.
Arachi set off for his own village that night, and in his canoe was such a store of cloth, of salt, and of brass rods as would delight any man's heart. Arachi came to his village singing a little song about himself.
In a year he had grown rich, for there were many ways of supplying the needs of an Arab slaver, and Abdul paid promptly.
Arachi worked single-handed, or, if he engaged paddlers, found them in obscure corners of the territories. He brought to Abdul many marketable properties, mostly young N'gombi women, who are fearful and easily cowed, and Sanders, scouring the country for the stout man with the fez, found him not.
* * * * *"Lord Abdul," said Arachi, who met the slaver secretly one night near the Ikusi River, "Sandi and his soldiers have gone down to the Akasava for a killing palaver. Now I think we will do what you wish."
"Lord Abdul," said Arachi, who met the slaver secretly one night near the Ikusi River, "Sandi and his soldiers have gone down to the Akasava for a killing palaver. Now I think we will do what you wish."
They were discussing an aspect of an adventure the grandest adventure which Abdul had ever planned.
"Arachi," said Abdul, "I have made you a rich man. Now, I tell you that I can make you richer than any chief in this land."
"I shall be glad to hear of this," said Arachi. "For though I am rich, yet I have borrowed many things, and, it seems, I have so wonderful a mind that I must live always in to-morrow."
"So I have heard," said the Arab. "For they say of you that if you had the whole world you would borrow the moon."
"That is my mystery," said Arachi modestly. "For this reason I am a very notable man."
Then he sat down to listen in patience to the great plan of Abdul Hazim. And it was a very high plan, for there were two thousand Liberian dollars at the back of it, and, for Arachi, payment in kind.
At the moment of the conference, Sanders was housed in the Ochori city making palaver with Bosambo, the chief.
"Bosambo," said Sanders, "I have given you these upper streams to your care. Yet Abdul Hazim walks through the land without hurt, and I think it is shame to you and to me."
"Master," said Bosambo, "it is a shameful thing. Yet the streams hereabouts are so many, and Abdul is a cunning man, and has spies. Also, my people are afraid to offend him lest he 'chop' them, or sell them into the interior."
Sanders nodded and rose to join the Zaire.
"Bosambo," he said, "this government put a price upon this Abdul, even as a certain government put a price upon you."
"What is his price, lord?" asked Bosambo, with an awakening of interest.
"One hundred pounds in silver," said Sanders.
"Lord," said Bosambo, "that is a good price."
Two days afterwards, when Arachi came to Bosambo, this chief was engaged in the purely domestic occupation of nursing his one small son.
"Greeting, Bosambo," said Arachi, "to you and to your beautiful son, who is noble in appearance and very quiet."
"Peace be to you, Arachi. I have nothing to lend you," said Bosambo.
"Lord," said Arachi loftily, "I am now a rich man richer than chiefs and I do not borrow."
"Ko, ko!" said Bosambo, with polite incredulity.
"Bosambo," Arachi went on, "I came to you because I love you, and you are not a talking man, but rather a wise and silent one."
"All this I know, Arachi," said Bosambo cautiously. "And again I say to you that I lend no man anything."
The exasperated Arachi raised his patient eyes to heaven.
"Lord Bosambo," he said, in the tone of one hurt, "I came to tell you of that which I have found, and to ask your lordship to help me secure it. For in a certain place I have come across a great stock of ivory, such as the old kings buried against their need."
"Arachi," said Bosambo, of a sudden, "you tell me that you are rich. Now you are a little man and I am a chief, yet I am not rich."
"I have many friends," said Arachi, trembling with pride, "and they give me rods and salt."
"That is nothing," said Bosambo. "Now I understand richness, for I have lived amongst white folk who laugh at rods and throw salt to dogs."
"Lord Bosambo," said the other eagerly, "I am rich also by white men's rule. Behold!"
From his waist pouch he took a handful of silver, and offered it in both hands for the chief's inspection.
Bosambo examined the money respectfully, turning each coin over gingerly.
"That is good riches," he said, and he breathed a little faster than was his wont. "And it is new, being bright. Also the devil marks, which you do not understand, are as they should be."
The gratified Arachi shoved his money back into his pouch. Bosambo sat in meditative silence, his face impassive.
"And you will take me, Arachi, to the place of buried treasure?" he asked slowly. "Ko! you are a generous man, for I do not know why you should share with me, knowing that I once beat you."
Bosambo put the child down gently. These kings' stores were traditional. Many had been found, and it was the dream of every properly constituted man to unearth such.
Yet Bosambo was not impressed, being in his heart sceptical.
"Arachi," he said, "I believe that you are a liar! Yet I would see this store, and, if it be near by, will see with my own eyes."
It was one day's journey, according to Arachi.
"You shall tell me where this place is," said Bosambo.
Arachi hesitated.
"Lord, how do I not know that you will not go and take this store?" he asked.
Bosambo regarded him sternly.
"Am I not an honest man?" he asked. "Do not the people from one end of the world to the other swear by the name of Bosambo?"
"No," said Arachi truthfully.
Yet he told of the place. It was by the River of Shadows, near the Crocodile Pool Where-the-Floods Had-Changed-The-Land.
Bosambo went to his hut to make preparations for the journey.
Behind his house, in a big grass cage, were many little pigeons. He laboriously wrote in his vile Arabic a laconic message, and attached it to the leg of a pigeon.
To make absolutely sure, for Bosambo left nothing to chance, he sent away a canoe secretly that night for a certain destination.
"And this you shall say to Sandi," said the chief to his trusted messenger, "that Arachi is rich with the richness of silver, and that silver has the devil marks of Zanzibar being the home of all traders, as your lordship knows."
Next day, at dawn, Bosambo and his guide departed. They paddled throughout the day, taking the smaller stream that drained the eastern side of the river, and at night they camped at a place called Bolulu, which means "the changed land."
They rose with the daylight to resume their journey. But it was unnecessary, for, in the darkness before the dawn, Abdul Hazim had surrounded the camp, and, at the persuasive muzzle of a Snider rifle, Bosambo accompanied his captors ten minutes' journey into the wood where Abdul awaited him.
The slaver, sitting before the door of his tent on his silken carpet, greeted his captive in the Ochori dialect. Bosambo replied in Arabic.
"Ho, Bosambo!" said Abdul. "Do you know me?"
"Sheikh," 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,2 and, if he misses this, all kills are difficult."
Four big canoes composed the waterway 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.