phere of interest. The French were out upon a
similar errand, for in this region the two nations possessed only a
vague and very indeterminate boundary line. Peters had been successful
until he came to the village of King Mtetanyanga, who had balked at
affixing his cross to the piece of mysterious parchment on the ground
that it was unlawful to do so during the festival of the great Ju-Ju,
whose worshipers could be heard wailing and beating tom-toms nightly in
some unknown part of the jungle. What this Ju-Ju fetish was nobody could
tell; it had come into the village recently, from the coast, men
whispered; it possessed awful and mysterious potency; was guarded
zealously by some score of priests, who veiled its awful vision; and it
was the greatest Ju-Ju for hundreds of miles along the Niger, tribes
from distant regions frequently arriving to sacrifice pigs to it.

However, Lieutenant Raguet, the French commissioner, had been equally
unsuccessful in inducing the dusky monarch to affix his signature to the
French treaty, and the ambassadors of the rival nations were both
encamped near the village, waiting for the Ju-Ju festivities to reach
their plethoric conclusion before the king sobered up and attended to
business.

Raguet, strolling into his rival's camp that evening, found Peters in
his tent, flushed, and breathing heavily.

"Tcht! tcht! you are seeck," said the Frenchman sympathetically. "That
ees too bad. Have you quinine?"

"Quinine be hanged," cried Peters huskily. "I've taken the stuff until
I've floated in it. There's only one thing can cure me, Raguet. I've
been living on crackers and canned beef for over a month, and I'm pining
for jam. Have you got any jam?"

"Dsham, dsham?" repeated Raguet with a puzzled expression.

"Yes, les preserves--le fruit et le sugar, bouilli--you know what I
mean."

"Ah, ze preserve!" said the Frenchman, with an expression of
enlightenment. "Ze preserve, I have him not."

"I tell you what, Raguet," said Peters irritably, "I've got to get some
jam somewhere or I shall kick the bucket. I'm craving for it, man. If I
had one can of the stuff it would put me upon my feet instantly, I can
feel it. Now it's ten to one I'll be too sick to see the king after the
ceremonies are over, and he'll sign your treaty instead of mine. And
I've given him three opera hats, a phonograph, and a gallon of rum,
curse the luck! What did you give him, Raguet?"

"Me? I give him a umbrella with ze