arlier said to Kayerts in a careless tone: "I
say, chief, I might just as well give him a lift with this lot into the
store."

As they were going back to the house Kayerts observed with a sigh: "It
had to be done." And Carlier said: "It's deplorable, but, the men being
Company's men the ivory is Company's ivory. We must look after it." "I
will report to the Director, of course," said Kayerts. "Of course; let
him decide," approved Carlier.

At midday they made a hearty meal. Kayerts sighed from time to time.
Whenever they mentioned Makola's name they always added to it an
opprobrious epithet. It eased their conscience. Makola gave himself a
half-holiday, and bathed his children in the river. No one from Gobila's
villages came near the station that day. No one came the next day, and
the next, nor for a whole week. Gobila's people might have been dead and
buried for any sign of life they gave. But they were only mourning for
those they had lost by the witchcraft of white men, who had brought
wicked people into their country. The wicked people were gone, but
fear remained. Fear always remains. A man may destroy everything within
himself, love and hate and belief, and even doubt; but as long as he
clings to life he cannot destroy fear: the fear, subtle, indestructible,
and terrible, that pervades his being; that tinges his thoughts; that
lurks in his heart; that watches on his lips the struggle of his last
breath. In his fear, the mild old Gobila offered extra human sacrifices
to all the Evil Spirits that had taken possession of his white friends.
His heart was heavy. Some warriors spoke about burning and killing, but
the cautious old savage dissuaded them. Who could foresee the woe those
mysterious creatures, if irritated, might bring? They should be left
alone. Perhaps in time they would disappear into the earth as the first
one had disappeared. His people must keep away from them, and hope for
the best.

Kayerts and Carlier did not disappear, but remained above on this earth,
that, somehow, they fancied had become bigger and very empty. It was not
the absolute and dumb solitude of the post that impressed them so much
as an inarticulate feeling that something from within them was gone,
something that worked for their safety, and had kept the wilderness from
interfering with their hearts. The images of home; the memory of people
like them, of men that thought and felt as they used to think and
feel, receded into distance