hat perhaps is
near, will be the Kalubi of the Pongo people, and these are my servants.
I have come here bearing gifts of friendship which are without, by the
desire of the holy Motombo, the High Priest of the gods----"

"I thought that the Kalubi was the priest of your gods," interrupted
Bausi.

"Not so. The Kalubi is the King of the Pongo as you are the King of the
Mazitu. The Motombo, who is seldom seen, is King of the spirits and the
Mouth of the gods."

Bausi nodded in the African fashion, that is by raising the chin, not
depressing it, and Komba went on:

"I have placed myself in your power, trusting to your honour. You can
kill me if you wish, though that will avail nothing, since there are
others waiting to become Kalubi in my place."

"Am I a Pongo that I should wish to kill messengers and eat them?" asked
Bausi, with sarcasm, a speech at which I noticed the Pongo envoys winced
a little.

"King, you are mistaken. The Pongo only eat those whom the White God
has chosen. It is a religious rite. Why should they who have cattle in
plenty desire to devour men?"

"I don't know," grunted Bausi, "but there is one here who can tell a
different story," and he looked at Babemba, who wriggled uncomfortably.

Komba also looked at him with his fierce eyes.

"It is not conceivable," he said, "that anybody should wish to eat one
so old and bony, but let that pass. I thank you, King, for your promise
of safety. I have come here to ask that you should send envoys to confer
with the Kalubi and the Motombo, that a lasting peace may be arranged
between our peoples."

"Why do not the Kalubi and the Motombo come here to confer?" asked
Bausi.

"Because it is not lawful that they should leave their land, O King.
Therefore they have sent me who am the Kalubi-to-come. Hearken. There
has been war between us for generations. It began so long ago that only
the Motombo knows of its beginning which he has from the gods. Once the
Pongo people owned all this land and only had their sacred places beyond
the water. Then your forefathers came and fell on them, killing many,
enslaving many and taking their women to wife. Now, say the Motombo and
the Kalubi, in the place of war let there be peace; where there is but
barren sand, there let corn and flowers grow; let the darkness, wherein
men lose their way and die, be changed to pleasant light in which they
can sit in the sun holding each other's hands."

"Hear, hear!" I muttered, quit