refore unmistakable,
we partook thankfully. A little later the Majestic Komba appeared.
After many compliments and inquiries as to our general health, he asked
whether we were ready to start on our visit to the Motombo who, he
added, was expecting us with much eagerness. I inquired how he knew
that, since we had only arranged to call on him late on the previous
night, and I understood that he lived a day's journey away. But Komba
put the matter by with a smile and a wave of his hand.

So in due course off we went, taking with us all our baggage, which now
that it had been lightened by the delivery of the presents, was of no
great weight.

Five minutes' walk along the wide, main street led us to the northern
gate of Rica Town. Here we found the Kalubi himself with an escort of
thirty men armed with spears; I noted that unlike the Mazitu they had no
bows and arrows. He announced in a loud voice that he proposed to do us
the special honour of conducting us to the sanctuary of the Holy One, by
which we understood him to mean the Motombo. When we politely begged him
not to trouble, being in an irritable mood, or assuming it, he told us
rudely to mind our own business. Indeed, I think this irritability was
real enough, which, in the circumstances known to the reader, was not
strange. At any rate, an hour or so later it declared itself in an act
of great cruelty which showed us how absolute was this man's power in
all temporal matters.

Passing through a little clump of bush we came to some gardens
surrounded by a light fence through which a number of cattle of a small
and delicate breed--they were not unlike Jerseys in appearance--had
broken to enjoy themselves by devouring the crops. This garden, it
appeared, belonged to the Kalubi for the time being, who was furious at
the destruction of its produce by the cattle which also belonged to him.

"Where is the herd?" he shouted.

A hunt began--and presently the poor fellow--he was no more than a lad,
was discovered asleep behind a bush. When he was dragged before him the
Kalubi pointed, first to the cattle, then to the broken fence and the
devastated garden. The lad began to mutter excuses and pray for mercy.

"Kill him!" said the Kalubi, whereon the herd flung himself to the
ground, and clutching him by the ankles, began to kiss his feet, crying
out that he was afraid to die. The Kalubi tried to kick himself free,
and failing in this, lifted his big spear and made an end