“Oh, no,” he laughed.  “But when I’m hunting I look about me.  I’ll tell you where the stuff may possibly be.  There’s a section of country called the Bahr el Gazal that the Congo people claim, but that I believe will eventually prove to lie on the British side of the boundary.  It was good elephant country—­which is to say bad living and traveling for man—­since the earth took shape out of ooze.  Awful swampy, malarious, densely wooded, dangerous country, sparsely inhabited by savages not averse to cannibalism when they’ve opportunity.  The ivory may be there.  If the Germans know it’s there they’re naturally afraid the British government would claim the whole district the minute the secret was out.  Their plan may possibly be to wait until a boundary dispute arises in the ordinary course of time (keeping a cautious eye on the cache meanwhile, of course) and then take the Congo government side.  If they can contrive to have it acknowledged as Congo territory, they might then pick a quarrel with the Congo government—­or come to some sort of terms with them.”

“They’ve patience,” I said, “if they’re playing that game!”

Courtney raised his eyebrows until his forehead was a mass of deep wrinkles.  Then he blew a dozen smoke rings.

“Patient—­perhaps.  It’s my impression they’re as remorseless and persistent as white ants—­undermining, digging, devouring everywhere while the rest of the world sleeps.  Do you remember there was a mutiny of native troops in Uganda not many years ago?  Some said that was because the troops were being paid in truck instead of money, and like most current excuses that one had some truth in it.  But the men themselves vowed they were going to set up an African Muhammedan empire.”

“What had that to do with Germans?” asked Fred.

“Nothing that I can personally prove” said Courtney.  “But I’ve a broad acquaintance among natives, and considerable knowledge of their tongues.  Muhammedanism is spreading among them very rapidly.  Over and over again, beside camp-fires, and in the dark when they thought I was not listening, I have heard them talk of missionaries from German territory who spread a doctrine of what you might call pan-Islam for lack of a better name.  I said at the time of the Uganda mutiny that I believed Germans were behind it.  I’ve seen no reason to change my opinion since.  It’s obvious that if the mutiny had by some ill chance succeeded Uganda would have been an easy prey for Karl Peters and his Germans.  If that ivory of Tippoo Tib’s is really in the Bahr el Gazal at the back of Uganda, then the German motive for stirring up the Uganda mutiny would be obvious.”

“But doesn’t our government know all this?” demanded Fred.

“That depends on what you mean by the word know,” answered Courtney.  “I’ve made no secret of my own opinion!”

“But they wouldn’t listen?”

“Some did, some didn’t.  The Home government—­which was the India Office in those days—­took no notice whatever.  One or two men out here believed, but I think they’re dead.  When the Foreign Office took the country over I don’t suppose they overhauled old reports very carefully.  I dare say my letters on the subject lie inches deep in dust.”