Not
being very particular as to our society, we sat down and waited for the
arrival of our party.
The natives were entirely naked, and precisely the same as the Bari.
Their chief, Legge, was among them, and received a present from Ibrahim
of a long red cotton shirt, and he assumed an air of great importance.
Ibrahim explained to him who I was, and he immediately came to ask for
the tribute he expected to receive as "blackmail" for the right of
entree into his country. Of all the villainous countenances that I have
ever seen, that of Legge excelled. Ferocity, avarice, and sensuality
were stamped upon his face, and I immediately requested him to sit for
his portrait, and in about ten minutes I succeeded in placing within my
portfolio an exact likeness of about the greatest rascal that exists in
Central Africa.
I had now the satisfaction of seeing my caravan slowly winding down the
hillside in good order, having surmounted all their difficulties.
Upon arrival my men were perfectly astonished at seeing us so near the
trader's party, and still more confounded at my sending for Ibrahim to
summon him to my tree, where I presented him with some English
sovereigns and a double-barrelled gun.
