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..