"Very often coming to this station, I had to wait days and days before he would turn up," he said. "Ah, it was worth waiting for! -- sometimes."

     "What was he doing? exploring or what?" I asked.

     "Oh, yes, of course"; he had discovered lots of villages, a lake, too -- he did not know exactly in what direction; it was dangerous to inquire too much -- but mostly his expeditions had been for ivory.

     "But he had no goods to trade with by that time," I objected.

     "There's a good lot of cartridges left even yet," he answered, looking away.

     "To speak plainly, he raided the country," I said. He nodded. "Not alone, surely!"

     He muttered something about the villages round that lake.

     "Kurtz got the tribe to follow him, did he?" I suggested. He fidgeted a little.

     "They adored him," he said.

     The tone of these words was so extraordinary that I looked at him searchingly. It was curious to see his mingled eagerness and reluctance to speak of Kurtz. The man filled his life, occupied his thoughts, swayed his emotions.