me if some other white comes into the Wongolo
country?"

"I shall be delighted," said Birnier.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} "Do you intend to come there some
day, Herr Lieutenant?"

"Ach, no, it is not--not our territory; although I should very much like to
see it and to shoot. There is much elephant there?"

"Oh yes, quantities."

"Please to try some of this curried egg, Herr Professor. It is excellent,
I assure you. I thank you.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} And rubber, is there much rubber there?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Now I wonder if you noticed whether it was tree or vine?"

"I really couldn't say." Birnier smiled thinly. "I am not interested in
such things."

Zu Pfeiffer glanced at him keenly and changed the subject. When they had
finished the best boned chicken that Birnier had ever tasted in Africa, zu
Pfeiffer rose.

"Let us go to my study, Herr Professor, if you so permit, for some coffee
and a little good port--and I will have the pleasure to show you my little
library."

"I should be delighted," assented Birnier willingly.

Around the white walls of the cool room which was zu Pfeiffer's study, ran
low bookshelves made of native wood, containing some hundreds of volumes
which had been carried five hundred miles on the heads of porters. Grass
mats and leopard skins were upon the floor. In the centre, upon a heavy
table, was a green shaded lamp set in a silver-mounted elephant's foot.
Upon the bookcases were various odd curios, and a coffee service in
copper; and from opposite sides, marbles of Bismarck and Voltaire stared
into each other's eyes. On the south wall was a large oil of Kaiser
Wilhelm II; and in the centre of the other wall a photograph of a woman
set in an ivory frame made from a section of a tusk.

Zu Pfeiffer strove to be more agreeable than ever. They talked mythology
and folklore. With the port, zu Pfeiffer rose, an erect martial figure
above the glow of the lamp.

"Herr Professor!" he remarked. "I beg you."

Slightly bewildered, Birnier rose, too, glass in hand. Wheeling with
military precision zu Pfeiffer raised his glass to the great portrait on
the wall.

"Ihre Hochheit!"

Politely Birnier followed suit, his democratic ideas slightly astonished
at the veneration of the kingly office; almost, he reflected, as curious
as the native superstition of the King-God. Then zu Pfeiffer turned to the
left and lifting his glass to the portrait in the ivory frame, drank
silently.

"I was wo