Then Venning’s scheme was taken in hand, the cliff scaled, a hundred trees felled, and rolled over as they fell, with all the branches on.  Then they returned to the valley, drew the fallen trees out, lopped off the branches, shaped the poles, dug holes, and got the uprights into position.  Then followed the ridge-poles and the sideposts, and the roof took shape, to the wonder of the women, a noble span covering some thousands of square feet, with a length of one hundred and fifty feet, and a height of fifty feet.  As the supporting rafters were laid, the women climbed up and set to work at the thatching, using long bands of bark for the binding.  And while the women worked at the roof, the men built up stone walls, under directions of the architects.  The great house built, a smaller one was made for the women, to serve as a general kitchen, with great stacks of wood piled up all round for the fires.  The entire population was kept hard at it for a week, and when the work was done, there was a grand ceremony over the wedding of Muata; and then one morning they awoke to find a low grey canopy drawn over the valley, from which fell a steady drizzle of rain.  The next day was like the first, and so on for nearly three months there was a perpetual mist in the valley, a long dismal succession of leaden skies hanging low.  One of these days the three white friends, in company with Muata, paid a visit to the underground world to obtain a supply of sulphur to serve as a disinfectant and purifier—­another idea of Venning’s.  They found the dark passages thundering to the fall of the water, but they found no signs whatever of living creatures.  With their loads of sulphur they very soon left the forbidding place, and for some days after the unhappy people of the village had to submit to the terrors of fumigation.  As the “medicine” was undoubtedly strong, and as it certainly stopped the progress of sickness that had broken out, the “Spider” rose in the estimation of the people as a great wizard.

At last the curtains were drawn, the blue of the sky appeared, and the valley glittered in the brilliant sunlight.

Then the women went singing to their gardens, the men prepared for the hunt, and the white chiefs got out their shining canoe from its wrappings, rubbed it with fat, and polished it with wood-ashes till it shone like a looking-glass.

“Ton will go, then?” said Muata.

“If your men will carry the pieces down to the larger river below the gates, we will thank you.”

The men went off singing, six men to each section, and in the afternoon the Okapi was once more in her proper element.

“And which way will you go, Ngonyama?”

“We have thought it over during the rains, chief.  We will go back through the open water, back past the place where we landed in the forest, back into the great river, and then south, even to the farthest reaches of the Congo, when we shall be among people I know.  There we will get carriers to take the boat to the waters of another great river, the Zambesi.”