e_
and think or read or dream dreams, and find life a pleasant experience,
and something to be thankful for.

Such a day does not often come upon the river, but if it does, the deep
channel of the Isisi focuses all the joy of it. Here the river runs as
straight as a canal for six miles, the current swifter and stronger
between the guiding banks than elsewhere. There are rocks, charted and
known, for the bed of the river undergoes no change, the swift waters
carry no sands to choke the fairway, navigation is largely a matter of
engine power and rule of thumb. Going slowly up stream a little more
than two knots an hour, the _Zaire_ was for once a pleasure steamer. Her
long-barrelled Hotchkiss guns were hidden in their canvas jackets, the
Maxims were lashed to the side of the bridge out of sight, and
Lieutenant Augustus Tibbetts, who sprawled in a big wicker-work chair
with an illustrated paper on his knees, a nasal-toned phonograph at his
feet, and a long glass of lemon squash at his elbow, had little to do
but pass the pleasant hours in the most pleasant occupation he could
conceive, which was the posting of a diary, which he hoped on some
future occasion to publish.

A shout, quick and sharp, brought him to his feet, a stiffly
outstretched hand pointed to the waters.

"What the dooce----" demanded Bones indignantly, and looked over the
side.... He saw the pitiful thing that rolled slowly in the swift
current, and the homely face of Bones hardened.

"Damn," he said, and the wheel of the _Zaire_ spun, and the little boat
came broadside to the stream before the threshing wheel got purchase on
the water.

It was Bones' sinewy hand that gripped the poor arm and brought the body
to the side of the canoe into which he had jumped as the boat came
round.

"Um," said Bones, seeing what he saw; "who knows this man?"

"Lord," said a wooding man, "this is B'chumbiri who was mad, and he
lived in the village near by."

"There will we go," said Bones, very gravely.

Now all the people of M'fa knew that the father of B'chumbiri and his
uncle had put away the tiresome youth with his headache and his silly
talk, and when there came news that the _Zaire_ was beating her way to
the village there was a hasty _likambo_ of the eldermen.

"Since this is neither Sandi nor M'ilitani who comes," said the chief,
an old man, N'jela ("the Bringer"), "but Moon-in-the-Eye, who is a
child, let us say that B'chumbiri fell into the water so t