“I know you would, Peter, but then, as I have often said, you are a bloodthirsty person. We can drop behind the bulwarks flat on our faces, before any one of the three can shoot; then in that recumbent position I will explain to them as well as I can that the Thornycroft motor boat possesses a submarine prow as effective as that of a battle ship, and if they don’t want their steam launch rammed and sunk, they’d better drop their rifles to the deck. I shall insist that whoever speaks to me shall talk as one gentleman to another. I’ll tell them I’m a member of the Peace Conference at The Hague. Come along, doctor. We’ll invite those johnnies to lunch, and cheer them up with the best wine and cigars that’s to be had in Africa,” and with that Stranleigh and the doctor departed for the waiting motor boat. The steersman of the little motor boat crouched over his wheel, which had some resemblance to that of an automobile, as the swift craft sped up the river until it came to the branch that led to the mine, then into this watery lane it turned at full speed. Stranleigh and the doctor were standing up, and on rounding a bend came in sight of the steam launch laboriously churning up toward them against the current. “Stop the engine,” said Stranleigh. “Swing round the stem of the launch, and come up alongside at a distance of about twenty feet, then regulate her speed to suit that of the launch.” The manager, captain, and mate, all standing up, seemed struck into immobility with astonishment at seeing such a cutter in such a region. They made no motion to raise their guns, or even to salute the oncomer. The motor boat came past them like a wild duck, without sound of machinery or sight of vapor, swung gracefully round, and came up alongside with a light precision which should have aroused the admiration of an old salt like the captain of the _Rajah_. [Illustration: 0159]