they were unhealthy and miserable.
Had they been of any other tribe they would have made up their minds to
die--for nothing is easier to certain savages than suicide--and so have
escaped from the puzzling difficulties of existence. But belonging, as
they did, to a warlike tribe with filed teeth, they had more grit, and
went on stupidly living through disease and sorrow. They did very little
work, and had lost their splendid physique. Carlier and Kayerts doctored
them assiduously without being able to bring them back into condition
again. They were mustered every morning and told off to different
tasks--grass-cutting, fence-building, tree-felling, &c., &c., which no
power on earth could induce them to execute efficiently. The two whites
had practically very little control over them.

In the afternoon Makola came over to the big house and found Kayerts
watching three heavy columns of smoke rising above the forests. "What is
that?" asked Kayerts. "Some villages burn," answered Makola, who seemed
to have regained his wits. Then he said abruptly: "We have got very
little ivory; bad six months' trading. Do you like get a little more
ivory?"

"Yes," said Kayerts, eagerly. He thought of percentages which were low.

"Those men who came yesterday are traders from Loanda who have got more
ivory than they can carry home. Shall I buy? I know their camp."

"Certainly," said Kayerts. "What are those traders?"

"Bad fellows," said Makola, indifferently. "They fight with people, and
catch women and children. They are bad men, and got guns. There is a
great disturbance in the country. Do you want ivory?"

"Yes," said Kayerts. Makola said nothing for a while. Then: "Those
workmen of ours are no good at all," he muttered, looking round.
"Station in very bad order, sir. Director will growl. Better get a fine
lot of ivory, then he say nothing."

"I can't help it; the men won't work," said Kayerts. "When will you get
that ivory?"

"Very soon," said Makola. "Perhaps to-night. You leave it to me, and
keep indoors, sir. I think you had better give some palm wine to our men
to make a dance this evening. Enjoy themselves. Work better to-morrow.
There's plenty palm wine--gone a little sour."

Kayerts said "yes," and Makola, with his own hands carried big
calabashes to the door of his hut. They stood there till the evening,
and Mrs. Makola looked into every one. The men got them at sunset. When
Kayerts and Carlier retired, a big bonfire wa