Thinking black; 22 years without a break in the long grass of Central ...

404 THINKING BLACK
amount of peace we brought to that poor town was—fire
and sword, and the old patriarch dragged off" in chains.
True, we had outwitted Shimba, but what a fly in the
ointment
Happily, this cut-throat soon finds out he has gone
a little too far, for an escaped fisherman runs away
West with the tidings, and after nearly a week's journey
bursts in on the Belgian Fort with a haggard and agonised
look to tell the tale. Now it is Commandant Verdickt
dares a deed that proves him to be the bravest of the
brave. Following in our wake, he strikes the Lake at
the same South end, crosses over to Kilwa Island in
crazy canoes with a handful of men, and dares to try
to carry the Arabs' stone fort by storm. Forlorn hope !
Himself in loud white jacket, a target for the elephant-
hunters, one of his traitor soldiers dares to wipe ofi" an
old score with his own corporal, killing him from the
rear. This means, of course, a pitiful stampede, and
poor Verdickt, after living a charmed life, is nearly
drowned on the return journey. But the veil that
hides the future in Africa is indeed woven by the hand
of mercy, for had we known, dared we move ? The
way of man is not in himself, and here is our harmless
little journey spelling out blood, blood, and yet more
blood.
On and on we sail, blissfully ignorant of it all, our
second day on the Lake giving promise of surprises.
The old canoe-man is a marvel, talking all the way
pettingly to his log ; calling it by its baptismal name,