Away into the forest we went—not far, for there was plenty of rubber in those days—and were soon busy making incisions in the vines and catching the drops of sap as they fell in little pots or calabashes ready to bring it home with us in the evening. There was great rivalry amongst us as to who could get the largest quantity. Then when we thought we had sufficient we returned to our homes with it and sought for the plant with which it must be mixed in order for it to coagulate. This grows in great quantities near many of our villages, and we call it bekaaku. Having mixed the two saps they formed a substance solid enough to make into balls about the size of a rubber fruit. These, packed into the baskets which the white man had given us, were ready for carrying to him. When we took our well-filled baskets and presented them at his house Bokakala was much pleased, and we wondered that any man should be so easily satisfied, for we could not understand of what use the rubber could be to him. However, he gave us salt and beads, and if we gained by his foolishness, why should we object? We continued to take him rubber, and in course of time a special day was set apart (the fifth day of the white man’s week) on which rubber was to be brought regularly, and that day soon came to be called by us mbile e’otofe (rubber day), and is so called to the present time. Week after week the rubber market was held, and Bokakala was good to us—he gave us salt, cloth, and beads in exchange for what we brought; he talked and chatted with us, settled our palavers for us, taught us many things, and even named some of our children after himself and gave them presents. In those days we had no palaver with Bokakala; it was after he left us that trouble began. Many times since we have regretted that we welcomed Bokakala as we did because of what happened afterwards, but at the beginning he treated us well, and we did not know what would follow. Perhaps he did not know either, but it seems to us that we made our great mistake in accepting his first offers. We were tempted and fell into a trap; but we say to ourselves over and over again when we think and speak of those times, “It was all right at first, but WE DID NOT KNOW.” CHAPTER IV THE BEGINNING OF SORROWS The coming of more white men—A change in our treatment—Things go from bad to worse—I get tired of collecting rubber—And stay at home—The white man’s anger and threats—I go to a palaver—My rubber is short—I am whipped—The white man’s new plan—Forest guards—Their oppression and greed—We report them to the white man—Results—But the worst not yet.