Sanders of the River. Edgar Wallace
such a date," he said, "you said this, and this, and that."
In other words he accused them of overstepping the creed of Equality and encroaching upon the borderland of political agitation.
"Lies!" said the elder of the two, without hesitation.
"Truth or lies," he said, "you go no more to Isisi."
"Would you have the heathen remain in darkness?" asked the man, in reproach. "Is the light we kindle too bright, master?"
"No," said Sanders, "but a bit too warm."
So he committed the outrage of removing the Ethiopians from the scene of their earnest labours, in consequence of which questions were asked in Parliament.
Then the chief of the Akasava people—an old friend—took a hand in the education of King Peter. Akasava adjoins that king's territory, and the chief came to give hints in military affairs.
He came with drums a-beating, with presents of fish and bananas and salt.
"You are a great king!" he said to the sleepy-eyed boy who sat on a stool of state, regarding him with open-mouthed interest. "When you walk the world shakes at your tread; the mighty river that goes flowing down to the big water parts asunder at your word, the trees of the forest shiver, and the beasts go slinking to cover when your mightiness goes abroad."
"Oh, ko, ko!" giggled the king, pleasantly tickled.
"The white men fear you," continued the chief of the Akasava; "they tremble and hide at your roar."
Sato-Koto, standing at the king's elbow, was a practical man.
"What seek ye, chief?" he asked, cutting short the compliments.
So the chief told him of a land peopled by cowards, rich with the treasures of the earth, goats, and women.
"Why do you not take them yourself?" demanded the regent.
"Because I am a slave," said the chief; "the slave of Sandi, who would beat me. But you, lord, are of the great; being king's headman, Sandi would not beat you because of your greatness."
There followed a palaver, which lasted two days.
"I shall have to do something with Peter," wrote Sanders despairingly to the Administrator; "the little beggar has gone on the war-path against those unfortunate Ochori. I should be glad if you would send me a hundred men, a Maxim, and a bundle of rattan canes; I'm afraid I must attend to Peter's education myself."
"Lord, did I not speak the truth?" said the Akasava chief in triumph. "Sandi has done nothing! Behold, we have wasted the city of the Ochori, and taken their treasure, and the white man is dumb because of your greatness! Let us wait till the moon comes again, and I will show you another city."
"You are a great man," bleated the king, "and some day you shall build your hut in the shadow of my palace."
"On that day," said the chief, with splendid resignation, "I shall die of joy."
When the moon had waxed and waned and come again, a pencilled silver hoop of light in the eastern sky, the Isisi warriors gathered with spear and broad-bladed sword, with ingola on their bodies, and clay in their hair.
They danced a great dance by the light of a huge fire, and all the women stood round, clapping their hands rhythmically.
In the midst of this there arrived a messenger in a canoe, who prostrated himself before the king, saying:
"Master, one day's march from here is Sandi; he has with him five score of soldiers and the brass gun which says: 'Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!'"
A silence reigned in court circles, which was broken by the voice of the Akasava chief.
"I think I will go home," he said. "I have a feeling of sickness; also, it is the season when my goats have their young."
"Do not be afraid," said Sato-Koto brutally. "The king's shadow is over you, and he is so mighty that the earth shakes at his tread, and the waters of the big river part at his footfall; also, the white men fear him."
"Nevertheless," said the chief, with some agitation, "I must go, for my youngest son is sickening with fever, and calls all the time for me."
"Stay!" said the regent, and there was no mistaking his tone.
Sanders did not come the next day, nor the next. He was moving leisurely, traversing a country where many misunderstandings existed that wanted clearing up. When he arrived, having sent a messenger ahead to carry the news of his arrival, he found the city peaceably engaged.
The women were crushing corn, the men smoking, the little children playing and sprawling about the streets.
He halted at the outskirts of the city, on a hillock that commanded the main street, and sent for the regent.
"Why must I send for you?" he asked. "Why does the king remain in his city when I come? This is shame."
"Master," said Sato-Koto, "it is not fitting that a great king should so humble himself."
Sanders was neither amused nor angry. He was dealing with a rebellious people, and his own fine feelings were as nothing to the peace of the land.
"It would seem that the king has had bad advisers," he reflected aloud, and Sato-Koto shuffled uneasily.
"Go, now, and tell the king to come—for I am his friend."
The regent departed, but returned again alone.
"Lord, he will not come," he said sullenly.
"Then I will go to him," said Sanders.
King Peter, sitting before his hut, greeted Mr. Commissioner with downcast eyes.
Sanders' soldiers, spread in a semi-circle before the hut, kept the rabble at bay.
"King," said Sanders—he carried in his hand a rattan cane of familiar shape, and as he spoke he whiffled it in the air, making a little humming noise—"stand up!"
"Wherefore?" said Sato-Koto.
"That you shall see," said Sanders.
The king rose reluctantly, and Sanders grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.
Swish!
The cane caught him most undesirably, and he sprang into the air with a yell.
Swish, swish, swish!
Yelling and dancing, throwing out wild hands to ward off the punishment, King Peter blubbered for mercy.
"Master!" Sato-Koto, his face distorted with rage, reached for his spear.
"Shoot that man if he interferes," said Sanders, without releasing the king.
The regent saw the levelled rifles and stepped back hastily.
"Now," said Sanders, throwing down the cane, "now we will play a little game."
"Wow-wow—oh, ko!" sobbed his majesty.
"I go back to the forest," said Sanders. "By and by a messenger shall come to you, saying that the Commissioner is on his way. Do you understand?"
"Yi-hi!" sobbed the king.
"Then will you go out with your councillors and your old men and await my coming according to custom. Is that clear?"
"Ye-es, master," whimpered the boy.
"Very good," said Sanders, and withdrew his troops.
In half an hour came a grave messenger to the king, and the court went out to the little hill to welcome the white man.
This was the beginning of King Peter's education, for thus was he taught obedience.
Sanders went into residence in the town of Isisi, and held court.
"Sato-Koto," he said on the second day, "do you