"You will pardon me, my dear friend, but Monsieur Herbert is only half through. He is not writing a play; he is introducing us to a higher standard of morals and perhaps of manners. Besides, if you listen you may get a fourth act and a climax which will be better than what you have. He has promised to convince Monsieur Le Blanc, who has not yet said a word, that the savage should not be burnt alive, and to convince me that there is something in that terrible blackamoor worthy of my admiration, even if he does dine on his fellow men. We have yet to hear Monsieur Herbert's second story." "All right, Lemois, but I doubt if it will help our distinguished guest here to complete his scenario; but here goes: "When I was chief of Bangala Station, circumstances made it necessary for me to make an expedition into the Aruwimi District, inhabited by a tribe now known as the Waluheli--cannibals and typical savages so far as morals and habits were concerned. These people, as I afterward learned, are possessed of great physical strength and are constantly on the war-path, trading among each other between times in slaves, ivory, and native iron ore. They live in huts made of grass stalks and plaited palm-leaves. Manioc is about the only food. This, of course, the women till. In fact, that which protects her from being sold as food is often her value as a worker, for one of their beliefs is that women have no souls and no future state. "I took with me five carriers and some fifteen fighting men and struck due east. It was the customary outfit, each man carrying sixty-five pounds of baggage, including tent, guns, ammunition, etc. The Aruwimi District, we had heard, was rich in plantains, as well as game, and we needed both, and the fighting men served for protection in case we were attacked, and as food carriers if we were not. "The first day's march brought us to a small river, a branch of the larger tributaries of the Upper Congo, which we crossed. Then followed a three days' march which led us to a hilly country where the villages were few and far between, and although the natives we met on the trail were most friendly--indeed some of their men had helped make up my gangs, two of them joining my escort--no food was to be had, and so I was obliged to push on until I struck a stretch that looked as if the plantains and manioc could be raised. Still further on I discovered traces of antelope and zebra and some elephants' tracks. Although the villages we passed were deserted, the character of the country proved that at some time in the past both plantains and a sort of yam had been raised in abundance, which led me to believe we could get what we wanted.