It was a case of who was not against us must be for us, and the end must justify both men and means.

We tried to work out ways of managing without them, but when we thought of our Baganda prisoner, and the almost certainty that both he and Coutlass would race to give our game away to Schillingschen if let out of sight for a minute, the necessity of making the best, not the worst, of the Greek seemed overwhelming.
Early next morning, before the village had awakened from its glut of beer and hippo meat, we shook Coutlass and Brown to their feet none too gently, and, with the Baganda firmly secured by the wrists between two of our men, started off, Fred leading.
The village awoke as if by magic before we had dragged away the thorns from the gate, and the chief leaped to the realization that the beads he had promised his women were about as concrete as his drunken dreams.
He and a swarm of his younger men followed us, begging and arguing--mile after mile--growing angrier and more importunate.

It was by my advice that we crossed the stream into the sleeping sickness zone and left them shuddering on their own side.

Our own men did not know so much about the ravages of that plague, and in any case were willing to dare whatever risks we despised.

But we took a long bend back and crossed the stream again higher up as soon as the chief and his beggars were out of sight.