ho knew my father and lived with
him for many years, and if Sandi spoke to me, saying 'Tell me, O
Bosambo, where is N'bosini?' I answer 'Lord, there are things which are
written and which I know cannot be told, not even to you whom I love so
dearly.'" He paused.

Bones was impressed. He stared, wide-eyed, at the chief, tilted his
helmet back a little from his damp brow, folded his hands on his knees
and opened his mouth a little.

"But it is you, O my lord," said Bosambo, extravagantly, "who asks this
question. You, who have suddenly come amongst us and who are brighter to
us than the moon and dearer to us than the land which grows corn;
therefore must I speak to you that which is in my heart. If I lie,
strike me down at your feet, for I am ready to die."

He paused again, throwing out his arms invitingly, but Bones said
nothing.

"Now this I tell you," Bosambo shook his finger impressively, "that the
N'bosini lives."

"Where?" asked Bones, quickly.

Already he saw himself lecturing before a crowded audience at the Royal
Geographical Society, his name in the papers, perhaps a Tibbett River or
a Francis Augustus Mountain added to the sum of geographical knowledge.

"It is in a certain place," said Bosambo, solemnly, "which only I know,
and I have sworn a solemn oath by many sacred things which I dare not
break, by letting of blood and by rubbing in of salt, that I will not
divulge the secret."

"O, tell me, Bosambo," demanded Bones, leaning forward and speaking
rapidly, "what manner of people are they who live in the city of
N'bosini?"

"They are men and women," said Bosambo after a pause.

"White or black?" asked Bones, eagerly.

Bosambo thought a little.

"White," he said soberly, and was immensely pleased at the impression he
created.

"I thought so," said Bones, excitedly, and jumped up, his eyes wider
than ever, his hands trembling as he pulled his note-book from his
breast pocket.

"I will make a book[3] of this, Bosambo," he said, almost incoherently.
"You shall speak slowly, telling me all things, for I must write in
English."

[Footnote 3: "Book" means any written thing. A "Note" is a book.]

He produced his pencil, squatted again, open book upon his knee, and
looked up at Bosambo to commence.

"Lord, I cannot do this," said Bosambo, his face heavy with gloom, "for
have I not told your lordship that I have sworn such oath? Moreover," he
said carelessly, "we who know the secret, have each