Many were doubtful about the project, because the route to the Lakopi country took them close to the land of the Jalang. This tribe bore enmity to the Mong, because the latter had often carried off and eaten their people. Therefore, the doubters said, they did not wish to take part in the expedition unless Nkoa went with them to cast protective spells over them.
I discussed the matter with Nkoa in our hut Nkoa grumbled: "I do not wish to go on this journey, either. These days, my breath comes too short and my joints ache too much for long journeys. But what should I do, Evok?" (This was the nearest the Mong could come to my name.; "If I tell Dinale of this, some young oaf will say: Nkoa grows too old and feeble to be a good wizard. Let us knock him on the head and get another one from some nearby village."
This was the first time he had ever asked my advice. Cautiously I replied: "Well, you might send me in your place."
His bright little eyes sought mine. "I know what you have in your mind, Evok. When you get to the Lakopi country, you will give our warriors the slip and set out for your own land."
"Why, master!" I exclaimed. "Whatever gave you such an idea? No such thought—"
"Never mind the lies," he said. "A good wizard knows what others are thinking, even though they say not a word. But I have enjoyed our talks about far lands and strange gods, these past months, and I would do something for you in return. Besides, we men of intelligence must stand together and help one another against the unthinking masses. So I will send you to Lakopiland with the traders, and whether you return or not is your affair."
On this journey, I bore a spear and a small bundle of belongings and food. Satyros, as I called my monkey, trotted along with me. Since I often let him off his leash, he could easily have escaped, but he had become so attached to me that he never tried to do so. He had grown a lot since I had bought him and had begun to show the fantastic red-and-blue markings of the adult male. He now weighed at least thirty pounds and was armed with formidable dogteeth. The Mong let him severely alone.
We had no trouble with the Jalang, since the rainy season had begun and most of the inhabitants of the great forest stayed close to their villages. But even under these conditions, travel was most unpleasant. Terrific tempests lashed the jungle, day after day, with such lightning and thunder that one would have thought the end of the world was at hand. Now and then the wind would overturn some gigantic old tree, bringing it down with a roar louder than the thunder and an impact that shook the earth.
Along the trails, we waded in water ankle to knee deep. Betimes the leading man would step into a hole and go in up to his chin or over his head. Every so often, we had to climb out of the water to pull off the huge leeches that fastened upon our legs. I got a parasitic worm under my skin, which itched me half crazy until one of the cannibals showed me how to pull it out by reeling it around a twig. A spell of ague assailed me on the third day out, so that I reeled along with chattering teeth. I could keep up only by virtue of my length of leg and the fact that I was not expected to carry a tusk.
The Mong were not very efficient marchers. There were always a few lazy fellows who did not want to start with the rest in the morning, and much time was lost in argument to get them going. Then they wanted to stop early in the afternoon, and this led to more discussion. If they had put the energy into walking that they did in disputation, they could have reached Lakopiland in half the time. As it was, between the flooded trails, the storms, and the incessant delays, we seldom did more than two leagues a day.
After the first ten-day, however, travel became easier, because the great forest began to thin out. At first it became scrubby, like that along the coast Then it turned into a mixture of scattered trees, thickets of brush, and open stretches of grass. Rain still fell, but not so hard and incessantly. We even had some sunny days.
Animal life became commoner, or at least we could see it more readily. The Mong often brought down an antelope with their poisoned arrows, so that we had fresh meat.
After a journey of perhaps twenty days—I cannot give an accurate count of time during this period—we came to Bakalenda, the Lakopi capital. This was a big town, comparable to Klimoko. It was surrounded, not by a wooden stockade, but by a crude dry wall of fieldstone.
We filed into the city, under a row of heads set on spikes over the gate, and proceeded to the marketplace The Square was crowded with Africans, showing their wares and chaffering in a score of tongues. There were cattle and goats and asses, for we had now reached the lands where such beasts could thrive. Some of the traders were naked like my own Mong; others wore every sort of garb from mere codpieces to full-length robes.
Heavily armed Lakopi warriors leant on their spears, watching to make sure that men from hostile tribes did not disrupt commerce by fighting. Like the Gbaru, the Lakopi wore clothes of a sort. Their city was a trading center for tribes from all over the great forest and the coast.
My Mong consulted with a Lakopi official, who guided them to a place where they could set out their tusks. He collected one tusk as the market tax and departed, a slave carrying the tusk behind him.
Then came a long wait. Some of the Mong wandered about, accosting traders with metal to sell and trying to interest them in their ivory. Other traders came to our display and made a few tentative offers. In time I got bored with the lack of action and explored the town. I struck up conversations with several Gbaru-speaking traders and sounded out market conditions. By evening I had some idea of local supply and demand.
By evening, however, the Mong had not yet sold a single tusk. Getao, the leader of our party, said:
"You do not understand trade, Evok; but then, of course, you are only a poor, ignorant foreigner. One must never show eagerness, either to buy or sell, lest one be worsted in the deal."
So, I thought, I'm just a poor, ignorant foreigner who does not understand trade? Next morning, when the trading started, I said:
"Getao, lend me one of those tusks."
"Why?" said the Mong suspiciously. "What do you want it for?"
"I will show you. You shall have it back tonight, undamaged."
I picked up the tusk and walked off with it before he could think of further arguments. I strolled over to the stall of one of the merchants to whom I had spoken the day before ...
When the trading stopped at sunset, I returned to the Mong plot with the same tusk over my shoulder. I led an ass, whose panniers were stuffed with spearheads, hoes, knives, beads, copper wire, and other trade goods.
"How did you do that?" said Getao.
"Oh, I sold the tusk for some cloth, and the cloth for some leather goods, and so on until I had enough to buy the tusk back."
"You must have cast one of your spells on the other traders," he growled. "Is that beast yours, too?"
"Yes."
"The more fool you; it will die on the road back to Dinale."
"I know that, so I will sell it before we leave Bakalenda." Ignorant foreigner, forsooth! Some of these Africans were pretty sharp traders, but none had ever been up against a Greek sea captain.
Since the Mong had sold only four of their tusks, they were likely to stay in Bakalenda for several days. Early next morning, I slipped out of town with a party of Mbutaran tribesmen returning to their home. This, I understood, lay near the mouth of a great river, north of the Lakopi country. I led the ass, while Satyros perched on its back. The Mbutaran looked nervously at the baboon. I explained that, since every great wizard required a familiar spirit, Satyros was mine. He could, I assured them, read their thoughts, and he would infallibly warn me if any evil persons thought to murder me in my sleep for my trade goods. A few sleight-of-hand tricks convinced the Mbutaran that I was all I claimed to be, so I had no trouble with them.