After the third dose of square-face he grew quite amiable and talkative.

Thinking the opportunity a good one, I sent for Sammy, and through him told our host that we were anxious to hire twenty porters to carry our packages.

He declared that there was not such a thing as a porter within a hundred miles, whereon I gave him some more gin.

The end of it was that we struck a bargain, I forget for how much, he promising to find us twenty good men who were to stay with us for as long as we wanted them.
Then I asked him about the destruction of the mission station, but although he was half-drunk, on this point he remained very close.

All he would say was that he had heard that twenty years ago the people called the Mazitu, who were very fierce, had raided right down to the coast and killed those who dwelt there, except a white man and his wife who had fled inland and never been seen again.
"How many of them were buried in that mound by the church ?" I asked quickly.
"Who told you they were buried there ?" he replied, with a start, but seeing his mistake, went on, "I do not know what you mean.