"That is true," he said, "people who kill white men must be greatly honoured, because all the other nations will say: 'Behold, these are the people who kill white men!'" "And when he is dead," the messenger went on, "many young men will go to the boat that smokes and slay all who are with him." "That is wise also," said Imgani; "when I kill white men I also kill their friends." He discussed his deeds to some length and with great detail. After the man had gone, Imgani made a meal of fish and manioc, polished the steel blades of his spears with wet sand, dried them carefully with grass, and laid himself down in the shade of the hut to sleep. He was awake in the early part of the afternoon, and went plunging into the river, swimming far towards the middle stream with great, strong strokes. Then he swam back to shore, let the sun dry him, and dressed himself in his leopard skin. He came to the village slowly, and found it agitated. More especially so was the chief, that wise _capita_, for news had arrived that Sandi was coming in the night, and that even now his steamer was rounding the bend of the river. A plan had miscarried; Sanders was two days ahead of time, and Ifiba and M'bwka, his trusty men, were away on an expedition, and there was no time to substitute unseasoned assassins. The steamer drifted broadside to the shore, one stern wheel revolving lazily, and then they saw, Imgani amongst the rest, that the decks were crowded with soldiers, impassive brown men in blue uniforms and fezes. A plank bumped down, and holding their rifles high the soldiers came pattering to the shore, and with them a white officer but not Sandi. It was a brusque, white man. "Who is the chief here?" he said crossly. "Lord, I am that man," said the stout chief, all a-flutter. "Take that man." A sergeant of Houssas grasped the chief and deftly swung him round; a corporal of Houssas snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. "Lord," he whined, "why this shame?" "Because you are a great thief," said the Houssa officer, "a provoker of war and a dealer in slaves." "If any man says that, it is a lie," said the chief, "for no Government man has witnessed such abominations." Imgani stepped forward. "Chief," he said, "I have seen it." "You are a great liar," fumed the portly _capita_, trembling with rage, "and Sandi, who is my friend, will not believe you." "I am Sandi," said Imgani, and smiled crookedly. CHAPTER XIII. THE SEER. There are many things that happen in the very heart of Africa that no man can explain; that is why those who know Africa best hesitate to write stories about it. Because a story about Africa must be a mystery story, and your reader of fiction requires that his mystery shall be, in the end, X-rayed so that the bones of it are visible.