Roosevelt laughed heartily. “Still, once you found the herds, you obviously knew what to do.”
Boyes shrugged. “I just went where there was no competition.”
“I thought the Enclave was filled with ivory hunters.”
“Not in the shoulder-high grass,” answered Boyes. “No way to sight your rifle, or to maneuver in case of a charge.”
“How did you manage to hunt under such conditions?”
“I stood on my bearer’s shoulders.” Boyes chuckled at the memory. “The first few times I used a.475, but the recoil was so powerful that it knocked me off my perch each time I fired it, so in the end I wound up using a Lee-Enfield.303.”
“You’re a man of many talents, John.”
A yellow-vented bulbul, bolder than its companions, suddenly landed in the clearing to more closely observe the pitching of the tents.
“Lovely bird, the bulbul,” remarked Roosevelt, pulling out his notebook and entering the time and location where he had spotted it. “It has an absolutely beautiful voice, too.”
“You’re quite a birdwatcher, Mr. President,” noted Boyes.
“Ornithology was my first love,” answered Roosevelt. “I published my initial monograph on it when I was fourteen.” He paused. “For the longest time, I thought my future would be in ornithology and taxidermy, but eventually I found men more interesting than animals.” Suddenly he grinned. “Or at least, more in need of leadership.”
“Well, we’ve come to the right place,” replied Boyes. “I think the Congo is probably more in need of leadership than most places.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” agreed Roosevelt. “In fact, I think the time has come to begin formulating an approach to the problem. So far we’ve just been speaking in generalizations; we must have some definite plan to present to the men when we’re fully assembled.” He paused. “Let’s take another look at that map.”
Boyes withdrew a map from his pocket and unfolded it.
“This will never do,” said Roosevelt, trying to study the map as the wind kept whipping through it. “Let’s find a table.”
Boyes ordered two of the natives to set up a table and a pair of chairs, and a moment later he and Roosevelt were sitting side by side, with the map laid out on the table and held in place by four small rocks.
“Where are we now?” asked Roosevelt.
“Right about here, sir,” answered Boyes, pointing to their location. “The mountains are the dividing line between Uganda and the Congo. We’ll have to concentrate our initial efforts in the eastern section.”
“Why?” asked Roosevelt. “If we move here” — he pointed to a more centrally-located spot — ”we’ll have access to the Congo River.”
“Not practical,” answered Boyes. “Most of the tribes in the eastern quarter of the country understand Swahili, and that’s the only native language most of our men will be able to speak. Once we get inland we’ll run into more than two hundred dialects, and if they speak any civilized language at all, it’ll be French, not English.”
“I see,” said Roosevelt. He paused to consider this information, then stared at the map again. “Now, where does the East African Railway terminate?”
“Over here,” said Boyes, pointing. “In Kampala, about halfway through Uganda.”
“So we’ll have to extend the railway or build a road about 300 miles or more to reach a base in the eastern section of the Congo?”
“That’s a very ambitious undertaking, Mr. President,” said Boyes dubiously.
“Still, it will have to be done. There’s no other way to bring in the equipment we’ll need.” Roosevelt turned to Boyes. “You look doubtful, John.”
“It could take years. The East African Railway wasn’t called the Lunatic Line without cause.”
Roosevelt smiled confidently. “They called it the Lunatic Line because only a lunatic would spend one thousand pounds per mile of track. Well, if there’s one thing Americans can build, it’s railroads. We’ll do it for a tenth of the cost in a fiftieth of the time.”
“If you extend it from Kampala, you’ll have to run it over the Mountains of the Moon,” noted Boyes.
“We ran railroads over the Rocky Mountains almost half a century ago,” said Roosevelt, dismissing the subject. “Now, are there any major cities in the eastern sector? Where’s Stanleyville?”
“Stanleyville could be on a different planet, for all the commerce it has with the eastern Congo,” replied Boyes. “In fact, most of the Belgian settlements are along the Congo River” — he pointed out the river — ”which, as you can see, doesn’t extend to the eastern section. There are no railways, no rivers, and no roads connecting the eastern sector to the settlements.” He paused. “Initially, this may very well work to our advantage, as it could be months before news of anything we may do will reach them.”
“Then what is in the east?”
Boyes shrugged. “Animals and savages.”
“We’ll leave the animals alone and elevate the savages,” said Roosevelt. “What’s the major tribe there?”
“The Mangbetu.”
“Do you know anything about them?”
“Just that they’re as warlike as the Maasai and the Zulu. They’ve conquered most of the other tribes.” He paused. “And they’re supposed to be cannibals.”
“We’ll have to put a stop to that,” said Roosevelt. He flashed Boyes another grin. “We can’t have them going around eating registered voters.”
“Especially Republicans?” suggested Boyes with a chuckle.
“Especially Republicans,” agreed Roosevelt. He paused. “Have they had much commerce with white men?”
“The Belgians leave them pretty much alone,” answered Boyes. “They killed the first few civil servants who paid them a visit.”
“Then it would be reasonable to assume that they will be unresponsive to our peaceful overtures?”
“I think you could say so, yes.”
“Then perhaps we can draw upon your expertise, John,” said Roosevelt. “After all, Kikuyuland was also hostile to white men when you first entered it.”
“It was a different situation,” explained Boyes. “They were warring among themselves, so I simply placed myself and my gun at the disposal of one of the weaker clans and made myself indispensable to them. Once word got out that I had sided with them and turned the tide of battle, they knew they’d be massacred if I left, so they begged me to stay, and one by one we began assimilating the other Kikuyu clans until we had unified the entire nation.” He paused. “The Mangbetu are already united, and I very much doubt that they would appreciate any interference from us.” He stared thoughtfully at Roosevelt. “And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“I didn’t enter Kikuyuland to bring them the benefits of civilization. The East African Railway needed supplies for 25,000 coolie laborers, and all I wanted to do was find a cheap source of food that I could resell. I was just trying to make a living, not to change the way the Kikuyu lived.” He paused. “African natives are a very peculiar lot. You can shoot their elephants, pull gold and diamonds out of their land, even buy their slaves, and they don’t seem to give a damn. But once you start interfering with the way they live, you’ve got a real problem on your hands.”
“There’s an enormous difference between American democracy and European colonialism,” said Roosevelt firmly.
“Let’s hope the residents of the Congo agree, sir,” said Boyes wryly.
“They will,” said Roosevelt. “You know, John, this enterprise was initially your suggestion. If you feel this way, why have you volunteered to help me?”