From each hole in the tangled mass we looked for a spear; and each moment expected to hear the rustle which told of deadly weapons hurled at us.

I became weary with the constant strain of danger, and--as, I suppose, happens with soldiers on the field of battle--not courageous, but perfectly indifferent whether I were killed or not.
When at last we got out of the forest and crossed the Liya on to the cleared lands near the villages of Monan-bundwa, we lay down to rest, and soon saw Muanampunda coming, walking up in a stately manner unarmed to meet us.

He had heard the vain firing of my men into the bush, and came to ask what was the matter.

I explained the mistake that Munangonga had made in supposing that I was Kolokolo, the deeds of whose men he knew, and then we went on to his village together.
In the evening he sent to say that if I would give him all my people who had guns, he would call his people together, burn off all the vegetation they could fire, and punish our enemies, bringing me ten goats instead of the three milch goats I had lost.

I again explained that the attack was made by a mistake in thinking I was Mohamad Bogharib, and that I had no wish to kill men: to join in his old feud would only make matters worse.