ning pile of Elgon that hove its great hump
against a blue sky and domineered over the world to the northward.

There were plenty of villages, well filled with timid spear-men and
hard-working naked wives. Now that we had trade goods in plenty there
was no difficulty at all about making friends with them. They had two
obsessing fears: that it might not rain in proper season, and "the
people" as they called themselves would "have too much hunger"; and
that the men from the mountain might come and take their babies.

"Which men, from what mountain?"

"Bad men, from very high up on that mountain!" They pointed toward
Elgon, shuddered, and looked away.

"Why should they take your babies?"

"They eat them!"

"What makes you think that?"

"We know it! They come! Once in so often they come and fight with us,
and take away, and kill and eat our fat babies!"

All the inhabitants of all the villages agreed. None of them had ever
ventured on the mountain; but all agreed that very bad black men came
raiding from the upper slopes at uncertain intervals. There was no
variation of the tale.

One thing puzzled us much more than the cannibal story. We heard
shooting a long way off behind us to our right--two shots, followed by
the unmistakable ringing echo among growing trees. Had Schillingschen
decided to desert us? And if so, how did he dare squander two of his
three cartridges at once--supposing he were not now mad, as our boys,
and his, all vowed he was? His own ten men began to beg to be
protected from him, and the captured Baganda recommended in best
missionary English that we seek the services of the first witch doctor
we could find.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE SONG OF THE ELEPHANTS

Who is as heavy as we, or as strong?
Ho! but we trample the shambas down!
Saw ye a swath where the trash lay long
And tall trees flat like a harvest mown?
That was the path we shore in haste
(Judge, is it easy to find, and wide!)
Ripping the branch and bough to waste
Like rocks shot loose from a mountain side!
Therefore hear us:

(All together, stamping steadily In time.)

'Twas we who lonely echoes woke
To copy the crash of the trees we broke!
Goad, nor whip, nor wheel, nor yoke
Shall humble the will of the Ivory Folk!

Once we were monarchs from sky to sky,
Many were we and the men were few;
Then we would go to the Place to d