"And what are these, white man?" said the king. "Toys for my women, or presents for my little chiefs?" "These are for your Greatness," said Sanders quietly, "from a people who do not gauge friendship by the costliness of presents." The king gave a little sniff. "Tell me, white man," he said; "in your travels have you ever seen so great a king as I?" "Lord king," said Sanders, frank to a fault. "I have seen greater." The king frowned, and the crowd about his sacred person muttered menacingly. "There you lie," said the king calmly; "for there never was a greater king than I." "Let the white man say who is greater," croaked an aged councillor, and a murmur of approval arose. "Lord," said Sanders, looking into the eyes of the old man who sat on the throne, "I have seen Lo Ben."[2] The king frowned again, and nodded. "Of him I have heard," he said; "he was a great king and an eater-up of nations--who else?" "King," lied Sanders, "also Ketcewayo"; and something like a hush fell upon the court, for the name of Ketcewayo was one that travelled north. "But of white kings," persisted the chief; "is there a white king in the world whose word when it goes forth causes men to tremble?" Sanders grinned internally, knowing such a king, but answered that in all his life he had never met such a king. "And of armies," said the king, "have you ever seen an army such as mine?" And so through the category of his possessions he ran; and Sanders, finding that the lie was to save himself a great deal of trouble, lied and acclaimed King Limbili as the greatest king in all the world, commander of the most perfect army, ruler of a sublime kingdom. It may be said that the kingdom of Yitingi owed its integrity to its faults, for, satisfied with the perfection of all his possessions, the great king confined his injustices, his cruelties, and his little wars within the boundaries of his state. Also he sought relaxation therein. One day, just after the rains, when the world was cool and the air filled with the faint scent of African spring, Sanders made a tour through the little provinces. These are those lands which lie away from the big rivers. Countries curled up in odd corners, bisected sharply on the map by this or that international boundary line, or scattered on the fringe of the wild country vaguely inscribed by the chartographer as "Under British Influence." It was always an interesting journey--Sanders made it once a year--for the way led up strange rivers and through unfamiliar scenes, past villages where other white men than Sanders were never seen. After a month's travel the Commissioner came to Icheli, which lies on the border of the great king's domain, and with immense civility he was received by the elders and the chiefs. "Lord, you have come at a good moment," said the chief solemnly, "to-night Daihili dances." "And who is Daihili?" asked Sanders.