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Updated: June 4, 2025
She cried out in a chattering voice, and from the huts six others, naked as herself, came, stared at the whites, and then, as if driven by the same impulse, and just like rabbits, darted into the forest. But Meeus had counted on this, and had detached seven of his men to crawl round and post themselves at the back of the huts amidst the trees.
When the soldiers had lost Berselius and Adams, they struck at once for M'Bina, reaching it in a day's march. Here they told their tale. Chef de Poste Meeus was dead. They had escorted a sick white man and a big white man toward M'Bina. One night three leopards had prowled round the camp and the soldiers had gone in pursuit of them.
Away here in the lonely fort, in the midst of the great M'Bonga rubber forest that was now speechless as a Sphinx, now roaring at him like a sea in torment; here in the endless sunlight of the dry seasons and the endless misery of the rains, Meeus driven in upon himself, had time to think. There is no prison so terrible as a limitless prison.
"I cannot," said Meeus. Adams came to him and bending down pinched his right thigh hard. "Do you feel me touching you?" "No." Adams did the same to the other thigh. "Do you feel that?" "No." "Lie there," said Adams. He opened the door and went out into the night. A moment later he returned; after him came the two porters bearing Berselius between them.
Adams noticed with surprise the childlike interest Meeus took in the belongings of Berselius; the green rot-proof tents, the latest invention of Europe, seemed to appeal to him especially; the Roorkee chairs, the folding baths, the mosquito nets of the latest pattern, the cooking utensils of pure aluminum, filled his simple mind with astonishment.
It is a hair-lifting sound when you know the cause, but it left Meeus unmoved. His mind was too full of the business of writing his report to draw images or listen to imagination; all the same, this sinister drum-beat acted upon his subconscious self and, scarcely knowing why he did so, he got up from the table and came outside to the fort wall and looked over away into the dark.
"Then," he said, "I will knock those mud houses of theirs to pieces. They require a lesson." "Poor devils!" said Adams. Meeus during the meal did not display a trace of irritation. From his appearance one might have judged that the niggers had returned to their work, and that everything was going well.
You will save yourself the sight of it." "Thanks," said Adams. Not for a good deal of money would he have remained to see those wretched hovels knocked to pieces. He could perceive plainly enough that the thing had to be done. Conciliation had been tried, and it was of no avail. He was quite on the side of Meeus; indeed, he had admired the self-restraint of this very much tried Chef de Poste.
He listened to the natives. Once a man does that he is lost, for they lose all respect for him. They are just like children, these people; once let children get in the habit of making excuses and you lose control. "Meeus was a stronger man, but he left much to be desired. He had too much whalebone in his composition, not enough steel, but he was improving.
Andreas Meeus was seated at the white-wood table of the sitting room before a big blue sheet of paper. He held a pen in his hand, but he was not writing just at present; he was reading what he had written. He was, in fact, making up his three-monthly report for headquarters, and he found it difficult, because the last three months had brought in little rubber and less ivory.
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