Provisions for two weeks were packed into convenient form, and the four started. Ibrahim insisted on Max taking the lead, the very thing not to do, for Max was venturesome, and when freed from restraint a perfect madcap. However, Ibrahim believed in him most implicitly, and it was agreed that Max should be captain. The madcap had seen, some hours journey back, a boat, and to it they went. A native, who was fishing, objected to them having it, but a few beads and a china doll were considered a princely recompense, and Max became the owner of the boat. He asked the native where the river led to, and was told that in the great quagmire was a fire that had been burning for hundreds of moons, and it took all the water to keep the fire down; if the water stopped the whole world would be burned up, and, added the native, naïvely: “Even Klatch would be burned.” And the terrible climax made the naked savage look so frightened that Max burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “Did you ever see the fire?” asked Ibrahim. “No, no! but Baas must not ask.” “We are going to see it; will you come?” “No, no.” “Will give you beads.” “No.” “China doll”--holding another up to view. “No, no, no!” The answer was very emphatic, and the man looked the very personification of fear. The boat was a good, strong dugout. A log of the talha, a species of mimosa tree, had been hollowed out with rude tools. This dugout formed one of the strongest kinds of canoe or boat known in Africa. There was room for seven or eight in it, and Max, out of a pure spirit of mischief, determined that the naked native should be one of the party. The man objected, but the Arabs seized him by the arms and legs and lifted him into the boat. The poor fellow trembled as though he had one of those terrible agues so prevalent in some countries, and which makes one: “Shake! shake! shake! Shudder, and cower, and quake, Till every nerve has its separate quiver, And every sinew its separate shiver, And every bone its particular ache; For either he or the chill must break! “Shake! shake! shake! Till joints are loose and sinews slack, Till every bone is a torturing thing, And every nerve is a hornet’s sting, While up and down the weary back An army of icebergs, stern and solemn, Marches along the spinal column.” That was just how poor, wild Klatchman--as he called himself--felt when he was lifted into the boat and held there by fear that Max would kill him if he attempted to move. The man gave himself up for lost, and bade farewell by gestures to the cows and the sacred bulls, to his tribe and his kindred. The Arabs bent themselves to the oars and the boat seemed to fly along. The water was rough. At times waves buffeted the boat and rocked it as if it were a paper shell. The oars were needed, not to propel the boat, but rather to prevent it going too fast. “Hurrah for the rapids!” shouted Max, but Ibrahim was getting scared.