out of the waste came a long, low wail of infinite weariness. it was like the cry of a little child in pain. the government steamer was drifting at the moment. her engine had stopped whilst the engineer repaired a float which had been smashed through coming in contact with a floating log.

assistant-commissioner sanders, a young man in those days, bent his head, listening. again the wail arose; this time there was a sob at the end of it. it came from a little patch of tall, coarse elephant grass near the shore.

sanders turned to his orderly.

"take a canoe, o man," he said in arabic, "and go with your rifle." he pointed. "there you will find a monkey that is wounded. shoot him, that he may suffer no more, for it is written, 'blessed is he that giveth sleep from pain.'"

obedient to his master's order, abiboo leapt into a little canoe, which the zaire carried by her side, and went paddling into the grass.

he disappeared, and they heard the rustle of elephant grass; but no shot came.

they waited until the grass rattled again, and

abiboo reappeared with a baby boy in the crook of his arm, naked and tearful.

this child was a first-born, and had been left on a sandy spit so that a crocodile might come and complete the sacrifice.

this happened nearly twenty years ago, and the memory of the drastic punishment meted out to the father of that first-born is scarcely a memory.

"we will call this child 'n'mika,'" sanders had said, which means "the child of sacrifice."

n'mika was brought up in the hut of a good man, and came to maturity.

* * * * *

when the monkeys suddenly changed their abiding-place from the little woods near by bonganga, on the isisi, to the forest which lies at the back of the akasava, all the wise men said with one accord that bad fortune was coming to the people of isisi.

n'mika laughed at these warnings, for he was in sanders's employ, and knew all things that happened in his district.

boy and man he served the government faithfully; loyalty was his high fetish, and sanders knew this.

the commissioner might have taken this man and made him a great chief; and had n'mika raised the finger of desire, sanders would have placed him above all others of his people; but the man knew where he might serve best, and at nineteen he had scotched three wars, saved the life of sanders twice, and had sent three petty chiefs of enterprising character to the gallows.

then love came to n'mika.

he loved a woman of the lesser isisi—a fine, straight girl, and very beautiful by certain standards. he married her, and took her to his hut, making her his principal wife, and investing her with all the privileges and dignity of that office.

kira, as the woman was called, was, in many ways, a desirable woman, and n'mika loved her as only a man of intelligence could love her; and she had ornaments of brass and of beads exceeding in richness the possessions of any other woman in the village.

now, there are ways of treating a woman the world over, and they differ in very little degree whether they are black or white, cannibal or vegetarian, rich or poor.

n'mika treated this woman too well. he looked in the forest for her wishes, as the saying goes, and so insistent was this good husband on serving his wife, that she was hard put to it to invent requirements.

"bright star reflected in the pool of the world," he said to her one morning, "what is your need this day? tell me, so that i may go and seek fulfilment."

she smiled. "lord," she said, "i desire the tail of a white antelope."

"i will find this tail," he said stoutly, and went forth to his hunting, discouraged by the knowledge that the white antelope is seen once in the year, and then by chance.

now this woman, although counted cold by many former suitors, and indubitably discovered so by her husband, had one lover who was of her people, and when the seeker of white antelope tails had departed she sent a message to the young man.

that evening sanders was "tied up" five miles from the village, and was watching the sun sinking in the swamp which lay south and west of the anchorage, when n'mika came down river in his canoe, intent on his quest, but not so intent that he could pass his lord without giving him due obeisance.

"ho, n'mika!" said sanders, leaning over the rail of the boat, and looking down kindly at the solemn figure in the canoe, "men up and down the river speak of you as the wonderful lover."

"that is true, lord," said n'mika simply; "for, although i paid two thousand matakos for this woman, i think she is worth more rods than have ever been counted."

sanders nodded, eyeing him thoughtfully, for he suspected the unusual whenever women came into the picture, and was open to the conviction that the man was mad.

"i go now, lord, to serve her," n'mika said, and he played with one of the paddles with some embarrassment; "for my wife desires a tail of a white antelope, and there is no antelope nearer than the n'gombi country—and white antelopes are very little seen."

sanders's eyebrows rose.

"for many months," continued n'mika, "i must seek my beautiful white swish; but i am pleased, finding happiness in weariness because i serve her."

sanders made a sign, and the man clambered on deck.

"you have a powerful ju-ju," he said, when n'mika stood before him, "for i will save you all weariness and privation. three days since i shot a white antelope on the edge of the mourning pools, and you shall be given its tail."

into the hands of the waiting man he placed the precious trophy, and n'mika sighed happily.

"lord," he said simply, "you are as a god to me—and have been for all time; for you found me, and named me the 'child of sacrifice,' and i hope, my fine master, to give my life in your service. this would be a good end for me."

"this is a little thing, n'mika," said sanders gently; "but i give you now a greater thing, which is a word of wisdom. do not give all your heart to one woman, lest she squeeze it till you are dead."

"that also would be a great end," said n'mika and went his way.

it was a sad way, for it led to knowledge.

sanders was coming up the river at his leisure. two days ahead of him had gone a canoe, swiftly paddled, to summon to the place of snakes, near the elephants' ground where three small rivers meet (it was necessary to be very explicit in a country which abounded in elephants' playgrounds and haunts of snakes, and was, moreover, watered by innumerable rivers), a palaver of the chiefs of his land.

to the palaver in the snake-place came the chiefs, high and puisne, the headmen, great and small, in their various states. some arrived in war canoes, with lokali shrilling, announcing the dignity and pride of the lazy figure in the stern. some came in patched canoes that leaked continually. some tramped long journeys through the forest—isisi, ochori, akasava, little n'gombi and greater isisi. even the shy bushmen came sneaking down the river, giving a wide berth to all other peoples, and grasping in their delicate hands spears and arrows which, as a precautionary measure, had been poisoned with tetanus.

egili of the akasava, tombolo of the isisi, n'rambara of the n'gombi, and, last but not least, bosambo of the ochori, came, the last named being splendid to behold; for he had a robe of green velvet, sent to him from the coast, and about his neck, suspended by a chain, jewelled at intervals with parisian diamonds, was a large gold-plated watch, with a blue enamel dial, which he consulted from time to time with marked insolence.

they sat upon their carved stools about the commissioner, and he told them many things which they knew, and some which they had hoped he did not know.

"now, i tell you," said sanders, "i call you together because there is peace in the land, and no man's hand is against his brother's, and thus it has been for nearly twelve moons, and behold! you all grow rich and fat."

"kwai!" murmured the chiefs approvingly.

"therefore," said sanders, "i have spoken a good word to government for you, and government is pleased; also my king and yours has sent you a token of his love, which he has made with great mystery and intelligence, that you may see him always with you, watching you."

he had brought half a hundred oleographs of his majesty from the headquarters, and these he had solemnly distributed. it was a head-and-shoulder photograph of the king lighting a cigarette, and had been distributed gratis with an english christmas number.

"now all people see! for peace is a beautiful thing, and men may lie down in their huts and fear nothing of their using. also, they may go out to their hunting and fear nothing as to their return, for their wives will be waiting with food in their hands."

"lord," said a little chief of the n'gombi, "even i, a blind and ignorant man, see all this. now, i swear by death that i will hold the king's peace in my two hands, offending none; for though my village is a small one, i have influence, owing to my wife's own brother, by the same father and of the same mother, being the high chief of the n'gombi-by-the-river."

"lord sandi," said bosambo, and all eyes were fixed upon a chief so brave and so gallantly arrayed, who was, moreover, by all understanding, related too nearly to sandi for the commissioner's ease. "lord sandi," said bosambo, "that i am your faithful slave all men know. some have spoken evilly of me, but, lo! where are they? they are in hell, as your lordship knows, for we were both christians before i learnt the true way and worshipped god and the prophet. nevertheless, lord, mussulman and christian are one alike in this, that they have a very terrible hell to which their enemies go——"

"bosambo," said sanders interrupting, "your voice is pleasant, and like the falling of rain after drought, yet i am a busy man, and there are many to speak."

bosambo inclined his head gravely. the conference looked at him now in awe, for he had earned an admonition from sandi, and still lived—nay! still preserved his dignity.

"lord," said bosambo. "i speak no more now, for, as you say, we have many private palavers, where much is said which no man knows; therefore it is unseemly to stand between other great speakers and your honour." he sat down.

"you speak truly, bosambo," said sanders calmly. "often we speak in private, you and i, for when i speak harshly to chiefs it is thus—in the secrecy of their huts that i talk, lest i put shame upon them in the eyes of their people."

"o, ko!" said the dismayed bosambo under his breath, for he saw the good impression his cryptic utterance had wrought wearing off with some rapidity.

after the palaver had dispersed, a weary sanders made his way to the zaire. a bath freshened him, and he came out to a wire-screened patch of deck to his dinner with some zest. a chicken of microscopic proportions had been the main dish every night for months.

he ate his meal in solitude, a book propped up against a bottle before him, a steaming cup of tea at one elbow, and a little electric hand-lamp at the other.

he was worried. for nine months he had kept a regiment of the ochori on the isisi border prepared for any eventualities. this regiment had been withdrawn. sanders had an uncomfortable feeling that he had made a bad mistake. it would take three weeks to police the border again.

long after the meal had been cleared away he sat thinking, and then a familiar voice, speaking with abiboo on the lower deck, aroused him.

he turned to the immobile houssa orderly who squatted outside the fly wire.

"if that voice is the voice of the chief bosambo, bring him to me."

a minute later bosambo came, standing before the meshed door of the fly-proof enclosure.

"enter, bosambo," said sanders, and when he had done so: "bosambo," he said, "you are a wise man, though somewhat boastful. yet i have some faith in your judgment. now you have heard all manner of people speaking before me, and you know that there is peace in this land. tell me, by your head and your love, what things are there which may split this friendship between man and man?"

"lord," said bosambo, preparing to orate at length, "i know of two things which may bring war, and the one is land and such high matters as fishing rights and hunting grounds, and the other is women. and, lord, since women live and are born to this world every hour of the day, faster—as it seems to me—than they die, there will always be voices to call spears from the roof."

sanders nodded. "and now?" he asked.

bosambo looked at him swiftly. "lord," he said suavely, "all men live in peace, as your lordship has said this day, and we love one another too well to break the king's peace. yet we keep a regiment of my ochori on the akasava border to keep the peace."

"and now?" said sanders again, more softly.

bosambo shifted uncomfortably. "i am your man," he said, "i have eaten your salt, and have shown you by various heroic deeds, and by terrible fighting, how much i love you, lord sandi."

"yet," said sanders, speaking rather to the swaying electric bulb hanging from the awning, "and yet i did not see the chief of the little isisi at my palaver."

bosambo was silent for a moment. then he heaved a deep sigh.

"lord," he said, with reluctant admiration, "you have eyes all over your body. you can see the words of men before they are uttered, and are very quick to read thoughts. you are all eyes," he went on extravagantly, "you have eyes on the top of your head and behind your ears. you have eyes——"

"that will do," said sanders quietly. "i think that will do, bosambo."

there was another long pause.

"and i tell you this, because there are no secrets between you and me. it was i who persuaded the little chief not to come."

sanders nodded. "that i know," he said.

"for, lord, i desired that this should be a very pleasant day for your lordship, and that you should go away with your heart filled with gladness, singing great songs; also, as your lordship knows, the ochori guard has left the akasava border."

there was no mistaking the significance.

"why should bimebibi make me otherwise?" asked sanders, ignoring the addition.

"lord," said bosambo loftily, "i am, as you know, of the true faith, believing neither in devils nor spells, save those which are prescribed by the blessed prophet, it is well known that bimebibi is a friend of ghosts, and has the eye which withers and kills. therefore, lord, he is an evil man, and all the chiefs and peoples of this land are for chopping him—all save the people of the lesser isisi, who greatly love him."

again sanders nodded.

the lesser isisi were the fighting isisi; they held the land between the ochori and the akasava, and were fierce men in some moments, though gentle enough in others. yet he had had no word from n'mika that trouble was brewing. this was strange. sanders sat in thought for the greater part of ten minutes. then he spoke.

"war is very terrible," he said, "for if one mad man comes up against five men who are not mad, behold! they become all mad together. i tell you this, bosambo, if you do well for me in this matter, i will pay you beyond your dreams."

"how can a man do well?" asked bosambo.

"he shall hold this war," said sanders.

bosambo raised his right arm stiffly.

"this i would do, lord," he said gravely; "but it is not for me, for bimebibi will cross with the akasava just as soon as he knows that the ochori do not hold the border."

"he must never know until i bring my soldiers," said sanders; "and none can tell him." he looked up quietly, and met the chief's eye. "and none can tell him?" he challenged.

bosambo shook his head. "n'mika sits in his village, lord," said he; "and n'mika is a great lover of his wife by all accounts."

sanders smiled. "if n'mika betrays me," he said, "there is no man in the world i will ever trust."

n'mika faced his wife. he wore neither frown nor smile, but upon her face was the terror of death. on a stool in the centre of the hut was the tail of the white antelope, but to this she gave no attention, for her mind was busy with the thoughts of terrible reprisals.

they sat in silence; the fire in the centre of the big hut spluttered and burnt, throwing weird shadows upon the wattle walls.

when n'mika spoke his voice was even and calm.

"kira, my wife," he said, "you have taken my heart out of me, and left a stone, for you do not love me."

she licked her dry lips and said nothing.

"now, i may put you away," he went on, "for the shame you have brought, and the sorrow, and the loneliness."

she opened her mouth to speak. twice she tried, but her tongue refused. then, again:

"kill me," she whispered, and kept her staring eyes on his.

n'mika, the wonderful lover, shook his head.

"you are a woman, and you have not my strength," he said, half to himself, "and you are young. i have trusted you, and i am afraid."

she was silent.

if the man, her lover, did what she had told him to do in the frantic moment when she had been warned of her husband's return, she might have saved her life—and more.

he read her thoughts in part.

"you shall take no harm from me," he said; "for i love you beyond understanding; and though i stand on the edge of death for my kindness, i will do no ill to you."

she sprang up. the fear in her eyes was gone; hate shone there banefully. he saw the look, and it scorched his very soul—and he heard.

it was the soft pad-pad of the king's guard, and he turned to greet bimebibi's head chief.

his wife would have run to the guard, but n'mika's hand shot out and held her.

"take him—take him!" she cried hoarsely "he will kill me—also he plots against the king, for he is sandi's man!"

chekolana, the king's headman, watched her curiously, but no more dispassionate was the face her husband turned upon her.

"kira," he said, "though you hate me, i love you. though i die for this at the hands of the king, i love you."

she laughed aloud.

she was safe—and n'mika was afraid. her outstretched finger almost touched his face.

"tell this to the king," she cried, "n'mika is sandi's man, and knows his heart——"

the headman, chekolana, made a step forward and peered into n'mika's face.

"if this is true," he said, "you shall tell bimebibi all he desires to know. say, n'mika, how many men of the ochori hold the border?"

n'mika laughed.

"ask sandi that," he said.

"lord! lord!"—it was the woman, her eyes blazing—"this i will tell you, if you put my man away. on the border there is——"

she gasped once and sighed like one grown weary, then she slid down to the floor of the hut—dead, for n'mika was a quick killer, and his hunting-knife very sharp.

"take me to the king," he said, his eyes upon the figure at his feet, "saying n'mika has slain the woman he loved; n'mika, the wonderful lover; n'mika, the child of sacrifice, who loved his wife well, and loved his high duty best."

no other word spoke n'mika.

they crucified him on a stake before the chief's hut, and there sanders found him three days later, bimebibi explained the circumstances.

"lord, this man murdered a woman, so i killed him," he said.

he might have saved his breath, for he had need of it.