teeth, they had more grit, and went on stupidly living through disease and sorrow.  They did very little work, and had lost their splendid physique.  Carlier and Kayerts doctored them assiduously without being able to bring them back into condition again.  They were mustered every morning and told off to different tasks—­grass-cutting, fence-building, tree-felling, &c., &c., which no power on earth could induce them to execute efficiently.  The two whites had practically very little control over them.

In the afternoon Makola came over to the big house and found Kayerts watching three heavy columns of smoke rising above the forests.  “What is that?” asked Kayerts.  “Some villages burn,” answered Makola, who seemed to have regained his wits.  Then he said abruptly:  “We have got very little ivory; bad six months’ trading.  Do you like get a little more ivory?”

“Yes,” said Kayerts, eagerly.  He thought of percentages which were low.

“Those men who came yesterday are traders from Loanda who have got more ivory than they can carry home.  Shall I buy?  I know their camp.”

“Certainly,” said Kayerts.  “What are those traders?”

“Bad fellows,” said Makola, indifferently.  “They fight with people, and catch women and children.  They are bad men, and got guns.  There is a great disturbance in the country.  Do you want ivory?”

“Yes,” said Kayerts.  Makola said nothing for a while.  Then:  “Those workmen of ours are no good at all,” he muttered, looking round.  “Station in very bad order, sir.  Director will growl.  Better get a fine lot of ivory, then he say nothing.”

“I can’t help it; the men won’t work,” said Kayerts.  “When will you get that ivory?”

“Very soon,” said Makola.  “Perhaps to-night.  You leave it to me, and keep indoors, sir.  I think you had better give some palm wine to our men to make a dance this evening.  Enjoy themselves.  Work better to-morrow.  There’s plenty palm wine—­gone a little sour.”

Kayerts said “yes,” and Makola, with his own hands carried big calabashes to the door of his hut.  They stood there till the evening, and Mrs. Makola looked into every one.  The men got them at sunset.  When Kayerts and Carlier retired, a big bonfire was flaring before the men’s huts.  They could hear their shouts and drumming.  Some men from Gobila’s village had joined the station hands, and the entertainment was a great success.

In the middle of the night, Carlier waking suddenly, heard a man shout loudly; then a shot was fired.  Only one.  Carlier ran out and met Kayerts on the verandah.  They were both startled.  As they went across the yard to call Makola, they saw shadows moving in the night.  One of them cried, “Don’t shoot!  It’s me, Price.”  Then Makola appeared close to them.  “Go back, go back, please,” he urged, “you spoil all.”  “There are strange men about,” said Carlier.  “Never mind; I know,” said Makola.  Then he whispered,