Fifty yards from the hut was a tree, at the foot of which, whimpering and chattering and in a condition of abject terror, were two small black monkeys tethered by ropes. They spat and grinned ferociously as Sanders approached them. He looked from the cartridges to the monkeys and back to the cartridges again, then he began searching the grass. He found two more empty shells and a rusting lancet, such as may be found in the pocket-case of any explorer. Then he walked back to the hut before which the fire burnt, and called softly-- "Mr. Cuthbert!" There was no answer, and Sanders called again-- "Mr. Cuthbert!" From the interior of the hut came a groan. "Leave me alone. I have come here to die!" said a muffled voice. "Come out and be civil," said Sanders coolly; "you can die afterwards." After a few moments' delay there issued from the door of the hut the wreck of a man, with long hair and a month-old beard, who stood sulkily before the Commissioner. "Might I ask," said Sanders, "what your little game is?" The other shook his head wearily. He was a pitiable sight. His clothes were in tatters; he was unwashed and grimy. "Sleeping sickness," he said wearily. "Felt it coming on--seen what horrible thing it was--didn't want to be a burden. Oh, my God! What a fool I've been to come to this filthy country!" "That's very likely," said Sanders. "But who told you that you had sleeping sickness?" "Know it--know it," said the listless man. "Sit down," said Sanders. The other obeyed, and Sanders applied the superficial tests. "If you've got sleeping sickness," said Sanders, after the examination, "I'm suffering from religious mania--man, you're crazy!" Yet there was something in Cuthbert's expression that was puzzling. He was dull, heavy, and stupid. His movements were slow and lethargic. Sanders watched him as he pulled a black wooden pipe from his ragged pocket, and with painful slowness charged it from a skin pouch. "It's got me, I tell you," muttered Cuthbert, and lit the pipe with a blazing twig from the fire. "I knew it (puff) as soon as that fellow Torrington (puff) described the symptoms (puff);--felt dull and sleepy--got a couple of monkeys and injected my blood (puff)--_they_ went drowsy, too--sure sign----" "Where did you get that tobacco from?" demanded Sanders quickly. Cuthbert took time to consider his answer. "Fellow gave it me--chief fellow, Bosambo. Native tobacco, but not bad--he gave me a devil of a lot." "So I should say," said Sanders, and reaching over took the pouch and put it in his pocket. * * * * * When Sanders had seen Mr. Cuthbert safe on board a homeward-bound steamer, he took his twenty Houssas to the Ochori country to arrest Bosambo, and expected Bosambo would fly; but the imperturbable chief awaited his coming, and offered him the customary honours.