His name was Keli. When a child he had been taken by his father on a visit to a neighbouring tribe. While there he was stolen from his father and taken to a distant village where he became a slave. Some time afterwards he was taken to the coast and sold to a chief of the coast tribe. Finally the chief sold him to a white man, who in turn gave him to another white man and he was taken to Gaboon. His master was a Frenchman, and Keli was his personal attendant. The boy made himself so useful that when the Frenchman went on furlough to France he took him along. After living in Paris a considerable time the Frenchman concluded not to return to Africa; whereupon he sent Keli to England and gave him into the charge of an English trader who was expecting soon to sail for Africa. With this trader Keli returned to Africa. Not long after this the trader having occasion to visit Batanga took Keli with him. This was his opportunity. In the night he fled to the forest. Finally he fell in with a caravan going to the Bulu country, and at last reached his town, after an absence of seven years, during which his father and mother had died, and he had been long-forgotten. Keli had not been trained by his various masters in wisdom and judgment, and he made the mistake of telling the people all that he had seen in Paris and London—all about the big buildings and multitudes of people, all about the clothes they wore and the very cold season of snow and ice, all about horses and carriages and railway trains—quite overtaxing their credulity, and earning the reputation of a notorious liar and incorrigible fool. Missionaries sometimes make the same mistake and pay the same penalty.