'I shall miss him sorely,' said Bila Huruma.
'He was a thief and a traitor,' I said.
'He was true to his caste,' said Bila Huruma.
'A thief and a traitor,' I said, angrily.
Bila Huruma turned away and looked back at the ruins of the huge building, at the great stone statues, worn and covered with vines, and at the city, lost and forgotten, lying to the east.
'There was once a great empire here,' he said. 'It is gone now. We do not even know who raised and aligned these stones, forming walls and temples, and laying out gardens and broad avenues. We do not even know the name of this empire or what the people may have called themselves. We know only that they built these things and, for a time, lived among them. Empires flourish and then, it seems, they perish. Yet men must make them.'
'Or destroy them,' I said.
'Yes,' said Bila Huruma, looking down then at the galleys and canoes. Kisu was there, waiting for us. 'Yes,' he said, 'some men make empires, and others would destroy them.'
'Which is the noblest?' I asked.
'I think,' said Bila Huruma, 'it is better to build than it is to destroy.'
'Even though one's work may fall into ruin?' I inquired.
'Yes,' said Bila Huruma. 'Even though one's work may fall into ruin.
'Do you know,' I asked, 'what I, and Msaliti, sought from Shaba?'
'Of course,' he said. 'Shaba, before he died, told me all.'
'It was not rightfully his,' I said. 'He was a thief and a traitor.'
'He was true to his caste,' said Bila Huruma.
I turned away from the Ubar, and began to descend the steps to the waiting vessels.
'Wait,' said Bila Huruma.
I turned to face him, and he descended the stairs until he reached where I stood.
'Shaba,' he said, 'asked me to give this to you. It was concealed upon his person.' He pressed into my hand a large ring, one too large for a human finger. It was golden, with a silver plate. On the outside of the ring, opposite the bezel, was a circular, recessed switch. On the ring itself there was a tiny, unmistakable scratch.
My hand trembled.
'Shaba,' said Bila Huruma, 'asked me to extend to you his thanks and apologies. He had need of the ring, you see. On the Ua, as you might expect, he found it of great utility.'
'His thanks?' I asked. 'His apologies?'
'He took the ring on loan, so to speak,' said Bila Huruma. 'He borrowed it. He hoped you would not mind.'
I could not speak.
'It was his intention to return it himself,' said Bila Huruma, 'but the attack of the beasts, so sudden and unexpected, intervened.'
I closed my hand on the ring. 'Do you know what you are giving me?' I asked.
'A ring of great power,' said Bila Huruma, 'one which can cast upon its wearer a mantle of invisibility.'
'With such a ring,' I said, 'you could be invincible.'
'Perhaps,' smiled Bila Huruma.
'Why do you give it to me?' I asked.
'It was the wish of Shaba,' said Bila Huruma.
'I had scarcely known such friendship could exist,' I said.
'I am a Ubar,' said Bila Huruma. 'In my life I have had only two friends. Now both are gone.'
'Shaba was one,' I said.
'Of course,' said Bila Huruma.
'Who was the other?' I asked.
'The other I had killed,' he said.
'What was his name?' I asked.
'Msaliti,' he said.
55
The Explosion; We Leave The Ancient City
'Let us leave,' called Kisu.
The Ubar and I descended the steps together, that we might make our departure from the landing, from the eastern shore of Lake Shaba.
It was then that the explosion occurred. It took place several pasangs away. There was a blast of light. A great towering blade of fire stormed upward against the tropical sky. There was a vast, spreading billowing cloud of dust and leaves. The earth shook, the waters of Lake Shaba roiled. Men cried out and girls screamed. We felt a shock wave of great heat and saw trees falling. There was a rain of rocks, branches and debris.
And then it was quiet, save for the water lapping against the landing and the sides of the wooden vessels. To the southwest there was a darkness in the sky. In places the tops of standing trees still burned. Then the fires, no longer sustained by the heat of the blast, one by one vanished, unable to overcome the living freshness of the wood.
'What was that?' asked Kisu.
'It is called an explosion,' I said.
'What is its meaning?' asked Bila Huruma.
'It means, I think,' I said, 'that it is now safe to descend the river.'
I smiled to myself. The false ring would never be delivered to the Sardar.
'Let us proceed,' said Bila Huruma.
'Cast off the lines,' I called to the men.
Soon the four galleys and the canoes, including our raiders' canoe, were upon the lake.
I tied the Tahari ring about my neck, where it hung, with the golden chain of Bila Huruma, on my chest. Near me in the canoe, wrapped in waterproof, oiled skins, and tied to a floatable frame, were the map case and notebooks of Shaba.
I looked back once at the city, and once at the darkness in the sky to the southwest.
I then lowered my paddle and thrust back against the waters of the lake.
What Occurred In Nyundo, The Central Village Of The Ukungu Region
'Where is Aibu?' cried Kisu.
We stood in the clearing of Nyundo, the central village of the Ukungu region.
Mwoga, spear in hand, a shield on his arm, came out to greet us. 'He is dead,' said Mwoga.
Tende, behind Kisu, cried out with misery.
'How did he die?' asked Kisu.
'By poison,' said Mwoga. 'I, now, am chieftain in Ukungu.'
'My spear says it is not true,' said Kisu.
'My spear,' said Mwoga, 'says that it is true.'
'We shall, then, let them decide,' said Kisu.
Small leather strips customarily sheath the blades of the spears of Ukungu. Both Mwoga and Kisu had now removed these tiny strips from their weapons. The edges of the blades gleamed. Each man carried, too, a shield.
