On this occasion I followed strictly the native mode of obtaining justice, and that which the native, with his idea of the solidarity of a community, recognizes as fair. A few minutes after the theft a man from the same town to which the thief belonged passed through the mission premises. I gave the order to the workmen to capture him and take his gun. Makuba, without assistance, executed the order. The man fought him violently, but being overcome was at length reduced to cursing him and predicting the various horrible deaths by which he would die, not to speak of everlasting torment that would be sure to follow. The indignant Makuba in reply tore open the front of his shirt and exposed an ugly scar upon his breast. “Am I afraid of the Fang?” he cried. “Do you see that scar? A Fang knife did that in an attack upon my tribe, and I alone killed the man who carried it and two of his friends.” I then took charge of the gun and told the man that I would return it as soon as his people would bring me the stolen goods, and then I released him. [Illustration: MAKUBA, CAPTAIN OF THE BOAT-CREW. _In a tornado his chief anxiety was always for the white man, that he might not get wet, and it was a part of politeness not to protect himself._] An hour later some thirty or forty very angry men, armed with knives and guns, and shouting their war-cry, rushed into the yard. They did not yet realize that I was going to take up the palaver, but thought they had only to deal with the workmen, who were unarmed. Their intention was to kill Makuba and take the gun, which they supposed was in his possession. They ran past the end of my house towards the workmen’s house shouting the name of Makuba. But it chanced that he was at the other end of my house, so they missed him. Immediately returning they saw him but before they reached him I pushed him into the house and closing the door myself confronted them and addressed them from the porch, explaining that since Makuba was in my employ I was bound to protect him; that the palaver was therefore mine, and they would have to fight me first. They first demanded that Makuba be delivered to them, but at length proposed to accept the gun as a compromise. I of course declined the compromise and demanded the stolen goods for the gun. Finally one of them raised the cry: “Let us kill the white man and take the store.” This may have been a mere bluff. I am disposed to think that it was; but I did not think so that day, and one cannot be sure. It was in a Fang town much nearer to the coast and to the French government that Mr. Marling was once robbed of his very clothing and left naked in the street of the village.