Chapter 11

A month later one of Sanders’ spies came unobtrusively to the Lulanga and rested a few days, watched and noted; on the fifth night he went swiftly down the little river to the master spy of the area, to whom he gave the news. It came eventually to Sanders when he was smoking an after-dinner cigar, and the Commissioner was worried. “Bones’ pal is doing a little cock-eyed propaganda work,” he said. “It doesn’t seem possible, but he appears to be undoing all my work in the Lulanga, and possibly on the river. Once S’bo…