He went back to his canvas chair before the Residency, and sat for half an hour, alternately pinching and rubbing his bare arms--he was in his shirt sleeves--in a reverie which was not pleasant. Here Lieutenant Augustus Tibbetts, returning from an afternoon's fishing, with a couple of weird-looking fish as his sole catch, found him and would have gone on with a little salute. "Bones!" called Hamilton, softly. Bones swung round. "Sir!" he said stiffly. "Come off your horse, Bones," coaxed Hamilton. "Not me," replied Bones; "I've finished with you, dear old fellow; as an officer an' a gentleman you've treated me rottenly--you have, indeed. Give me an order--I'll obey it. Tell me to lead a forlorn hope or go to bed at ten--I'll carry out instructions accordin' to military law, but outside of duty you're a jolly old rotter. I'm hurt, Ham, doocidly hurt. I think----" "Oh shut up and sit down!" interrupted his chief, irritably. "You jaw and jaw till my head aches." Reluctantly Lieutenant Tibbetts walked back, depositing his catch with the greatest care on the ground. "What on earth have you got there?" asked Hamilton, curiously. "I don't know whether it's cod or turbot," said the cautious Bones, "but I'll have 'em cooked and find out." Hamilton grinned. "To be exact, they're catfish, and poisonous," he said, and whistled his orderly. "Oh, Ahmet," he said in Arabic, "take these fish and throw them away." Bones fixed his monocle, and his eyes followed his catch till they were out of sight. "Of course, sir," he said with resignation, "if you like to commandeer my fish it's not for me to question you." "I'm a little worried, Bones," began Hamilton. "A conscience, sir," said Bones, smugly, "is a pretty rotten thing for a feller to have. I remember years ago----" "There's a little unrest up there"--Hamilton waved his hand towards the dark green forest, sombre in the shadows of the evening--"a palaver I don't quite get the hang of. If I could only trust you, Bones!" Lieutenant Tibbetts rose. He readjusted his monocle and stiffened himself to attention--a heroic pose which invariably accompanied his protests. But Hamilton gave him no opportunity. "Anyway, I have to trust you, Bones," he said, "whether I like it or not. You get ready to clear out. Take twenty men and patrol the river between the Isisi and the Akasava." In as few words as possible he explained the legend of the N'bosini. "Of course, there is no such place," he said; "it is a mythical land like the lost Atlantis--the home of the mysterious and marvellous tribes, populated by giants and filled with all the beautiful products of the world." "I know, sir," said Bones, nodding his head. "It is like one of those building estate advertisements you read in the American papers: Young-man-go-west-an'-buy-Dudville Corner Blocks----" "You have a horrible mind," said Hamilton. "However, get ready. I will have steam in the _Zaire_ against your departure."