Having covered my back with the authorities, all that was needed to become a going concern again was to regain control of Matthieu, my erstwhile assistant. I knew from letters I had received in England, long rambling disquisitions in which problems of bride-price played a large role, that he was seeking to enter the customs service. This, he had confided, was an assured means of enrichment, but he feared greatly being posted to a remote border area away from other members of his tribe, among "savage bushmen", who would have appalling customs and eat vile food. Were there even Christians in the far north of the country? He was unsure.

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