[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

RECRUITING FOR NATIVES 79

The presence of the women was a sign that the
people were peacefully inclined. An old man, a
relative of Macao’s, joined us, and a short walk
through a gully brought us quite suddenly into a
village square. About thirty men were awaiting us,
armed with rifles and clubs, silent and shy. Macao
spoke to them, whereupon they laid down their rifles
and led us to a hut, where we found Bourbaki, lying
on his back, dead. He had been sitting in the house
when some one shot him from behind; he had
jumped up and tried to fly, but had broken down and
fallen where he was then lying. He must have died
almost at once, as the bullet had torn a great hole
in his body. His rifle and cartridges were missing,
that was all.

The villagers stood around us, talking excitedly;
we could not understand them, but they were
evidently not hostile, and we told them to bury
Bourbaki. They began at once, digging a hole in
the soft earth with pointed sticks. We then asked
for the rifle, the cartridges and the murderer, and
Were informed that two men had done the killing.
After some deliberation a number of men walked off,
one of them a venerable old man, armed after the old
fashion with a bow and a handful of poisoned arrows,
which he handled With deliberate care; he also
carried a club in a sling over his shoulder. Of all
those strong men, this old one seemed to me the
most dangerous but also the most beautiful and the
most genuine. After a while they returned, and two
other men slunk in and stood apart.