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There are certain native traits, certain inherent characteristics, which it is inexpedient to describe in print.
The N’Gombi people had a weakness for forbidden fruit; they raided and burnt and pillaged, but in the main the treasure which they carried away with them took the shape of eligible women.
Sanders was at some pains to teach them that this was one of the forms of hunting which his soul loathed. He pointed his lesson with whippings, banishments, and once, after a particularly unpleasant episode, by a hanging from a gallows which he caused to be erected in the N’Gombi city of Shusha.
Here, before the duly impressed people, in the presence of a puisne judge brought especially from the coast — there had been a little trouble over a summary execution — and in a space kept clear by a half-battalion of Houssas (imported for the occasion), Lombasi, a king of the N’Gombi, died the death amidst the plaudits of his fickle subjects. And this happened in the sight of every chief, every headman, and the new king of the N’Gombi.
Yet three weeks later the offence for which the king suffered was repeated by his successor.
“Make your own arrangements,” telegraphed the Administration when a despairing Sanders had reported the fresh crime. “Hang Bogali at your discretion; if necessary, burn crops and village.”
Sanders did neither. He deposed the king as he had deposed half a dozen other kings, thrashed him publicly, distributed his property, and appointed — whom should be appoint?
He had half a mind to send for Bosambo of the neighbouring Ochori, but that would be a dangerous experiment.
The deposed Bogali had two sons and a daughter. One of the sons was far gone in sleeping sickness, and the other was a fairly easygoing, foolish youth, who would be in the hands of his councillors.
“It shall be the woman,” decided Sanders; and so, against all precedent, he set up E’logina as Queen of the N’Gombi.
A tall, resolute girl of sixteen, she was at that time with a husband of no great character and several lovers, it there was any truth in popular rumour.
With fitting solemnity Sanders placed her in the chair of state, and she was very grave and very stately — accepting her new position as by right.
“E’logina,” said Sanders, “you shall rule this country, and there shall be no women palavers. And I am behind you to enforce your order. If any man say to you: ‘I will not obey you because you are a woman,’ behold! he shall obey because I am a man; and whosoever sets your authority at defiance shall suffer very painfully.”
“Lord!” said the girl, “I will rule wisely.”
“As for your lovers,” said Sanders, “of whom I have heard, you shall give them no preference over other councillors, or they will lead you to destruction.”
“Master!” said the girl, “it is said in the N’Gombi country, ‘A lover has strong arms, but no brains.’”
“That is true in other countries,” said Sanders.
There were no more women palavers in the N’Gombi from that day. A minor chief who raided an outlying village and carried away girls was summoned to her presence, and certain things happened to him which changed his habits of life, for this lady of the N’Gombi was elementary but effective.
Sanders heard of the happening, and wisely pretended ignorance. The art of government lies in knowing nothing at the proper moment.
She ruled as she had promised — with wisdom. There came the inevitable moment when her chief lover sought to influence affairs of state.
She sent him a long green leaf, which meant that she was in mourning for him. He accepted this as an augury of what might happen and left the city with commendable expedition.
The chiefs and kings of other countries paid her visits of ceremony, bringing her rich presents. Not least of these was Bosambo of the Ochori.
His state rivalled in magnificence a combination of the sunset and the morning star, but the girl on her dais was not noticeably affected.
“Lady Queen,” said Bosambo, “I have come a long journey because I have heard of your greatness and your beauty, and, behold, you are wonderful to see, and your wisdom blinds me like the sun on still water.”
“I have heard of you,” said E’logina. “You are a little chief of a little people.”
“The moon is little also, when seen from a muck-heap,” said Bosambo calmly. “I return to my moon.”
He was ruffled, though he did not betray the fact.
“Tomorrow,” he said, as he prepared to depart, “I send word to Sandi, who, as all the world knows, is my nephew — being the son of my sister’s husband’s brother, and therefore of my blood — and I will say to him that here in the N’Gombi is a queen who puts shame upon our house.”
“Lord Bosambo,” said the girl hurriedly, “we know that you are nearly related to Sandi, and it would be wrong if my foolish tongue made you ashamed.”
“We are proud men, Sandi and I,” said Bosambo, “and he will be very terrible in his anger when he knows in what way you have spoken.”
The girl rose and came toward him.
“Lord Bosambo,” she said, “if you leave me now it will be dark and there will be no sun. For often I have spoken of you till my councillors weary of your name and deeds. Therefore, stay with me a little that I may drink of your understanding.”
But Bosambo was dignified and obdurate.
“Also, Lord Bosambo,” she said, “there are many presents which my people are gathering for you, for it would be shameful if I sent you back to your great nation empty-handed.”
“I will stay,” said Bosambo, “though presents I do not value — save meal and a little water — and my hut is filled with presents from Sandi.” He observed the look of relief on the girl’s face, and added without a tremor, “So that I have room only for precious gifts as your ladyship will give me.”
He stayed that day, and the queen found him agreeable; he stayed the next day, and the queen was fascinated by his talk. On the third day he was indispensable.
Then came Bosambo’s culminating effort.
He had a passion for discussing his kinship with Sanders, and she was an attentive listener. Also she had that day given him many tusks of ivory to carry with him to his home.
“My brother Sandi,” said Bosambo, “will be pleased already; he loves you and has spoken to me about you. Now I will not doubt that his love will be greater than it is for me — for you are a woman, and Sandi has sighed many days for you.”
She listened with a kindling eye. A new and splendid thought came into her head. Bosambo departed that evening, having compressed more mischief into three days than the average native man crowds into a lifetime.
It was six months before the result of Bosambo’s extravagance was seen. Sanders came north on a tour of inspection, and in due course he arrived at Shusha.
All things were in order on the river, and he was satisfied. His experiment had worked better than he had dared to hope.
“Queen,” he said, as he sat with her in the thatched palaver-house, “you have done well.”
She smiled nervously.
“Lord, it is for love of you that I did this,” she said; and Sanders, hardened to flattery, accepted the warmth of her pronouncement without blushing.
“For I have put away my lovers,” she went on, “and my husband, who is a fool, I have banished to another village; and, my lord, I am your slave.”
She slipped from