262 
The March to Banza Nkulu. 
nothing around him deserved a glance. I made 
him au-fait as to my intentions, produced, as 
“ mata-bicho,” a bottle of gin, and sent a dash of 
costa-fina, to which a few yards of satin-stripe 
were thrown in. 
The gin was drunk with the usual greed, and 
the presents were received with the normal objec¬ 
tions. 
“ Why should not I, a king like Nessudikira, 
receive a ‘ dash ’ equal to his ? ” 
“ He is my host, I pay him for bed and board! ” 
“ We are all cousins ; why shall one be treated 
better than the other ? ” 
“As you please! you have received your due, 
and to-day we march.” 
After this I rose and returned to my hut ready 
for the inevitable “ row.” 
It was not long coming; the new arrivals set 
up the war-song, and Gidi Mavunga thought it 
time to make a demonstration. Drawing an old 
cutlass and bending almost double, he began to 
rush about, slashing and cutting down imaginary 
foes, whilst his men looked to their guns. The 
greenhorn would have expected a regular stand- 
up fight, ending in half-a-dozen deaths, but the 
Papagayo snatched away his fathers rusty blade, 
and Chico Furano, seizing the warriors head, 
despite the mildest of resistance, bent it almost to 
the ground. Thus valour succumbed to numbers. 
