The period of instruction was short.  It began when the little stern-wheeler slipped off the bank and got under weigh.  It was completed satisfactorily during the twelve miles run down the river.  The boat was steered into M’barri-m’barri creek, made hastily fast to trees on the bank, and exuded her people in an armed rush.  They had possession of the place almost before the villagers knew of their arrival, and proceeded to the object of their call.  There was no especial show of violence.

The women and the children were imprisoned in the huts; the men were given axes, and sent off into the forest to cut and gather fuel; and, meanwhile, the landing party set themselves to eat what they fancied and to carry off any store of ivory and rubber that they might chance upon.  There was nothing remarkable in the manoeuvre.  It is the authorized course of proceedings when a Free State launch goes into the bank for wood and supplies.

The villagers brought down the logs smartly enough, and waxed quite friendly on finding that none of the hostage women and children had been killed or maltreated during their absence.  They duly gave up the German axes which had been loaned to them, and carried the wood aboard.  Kettle arranged its disposition.  He had solid defences built up all round the vulnerable boiler and engines.  He had a stout breastwork built all round inside the rail of the lower deck, quite stout enough to absorb a bullet even if fired at point-blank range.  And he had another breastwork built on the third deck, above the cabins, so that he turned the flimsy little steamer into a very staunch, if somewhat ungainly, floating fort.

He got on board the rubber and ivory he had collected, and had it struck down below—­the dividends of the State have to be remembered first, even at moments of trouble like these—­and then he gave orders, and the vessel set off again up stream.  On the lower deck he stayed himself during the journey back, and gave instructions to Commander Balliot in the art of engine-driving.

Balliot was sullen at first, and showed little inclination to acquire so warm and grimy a craft, and fenced himself behind his dignity.  But Kettle put forth his persuasive powers; he did not hit the man, he merely talked; and under the merciless lash of that vinegary little tongue, Balliot repented him of his stubbornness, and set himself to acquire the elementary knack of engine nursing and feeding and driving.

“And now,” said Kettle, cheerfully, when the pupil had mastered the vague outlines of his business, “you see what can be done by kindness.  I haven’t hit you once, and you know enough already not to blow her up if only you’re careful.  Don’t you even sham stupid again; and, see here, don’t you grit your teeth at me when you think I’m not looking, or I’ll beat you into butcher’s meat when I’ve hammered these rebels, and have a bit of spare time.  You want to learn a lot of manners yet, Mr. Commandant Balliot, and where I come from we teach these to foreigners free of charge.  Just you remember that I’m your better, my man, and give me proper respect, or I’ll lead you a life a nigger’s yellow dog wouldn’t fancy.”