"This lake, forming the source of the Ua," I said, "he named Lake Bila Huruma."

"Cross that out," said Bila Huruma. "Write there, instead, Lake Shaba."

"I will do so," I said.

For a time Bila Huruma and I watched the galleys and canoes being readied for casting off. Hunting had been done. Supplies had been gathered. Of his forces Bila Huruma retained some ninety askaris. Of Shaba's men some seventeen survived.

"I am a lonely man," said Bila Huruma. "Shaba was my friend."

"Yet you pursued him," I said, "that you might overtake and slay him, doing robbery upon him."

Bila Huruma looked at me, puzzled. "No," he said. "I followed him to protect him. He was my friend. In our plans he was to take one hundred galleys and five thousand men. But he fled with three galleys and perhaps not even two hundred followers. I wished to lend him the support and defense of ships and numbers."

"You were not to accompany him on the originally projected expedition," I said.

"Of course not," he said. "I am a Ubar."

"Then why did you follow him?" I asked.

"I wanted the forces to get through," he said. "Shaba might have brought them through. I might have brought them through. I was not certain others could do so."

"But you are a Ubar," I said.

"I was also his friend," said Bila Huruma. "To a Ubar a friend is precious," he said. "We have so few."

"Shaba told me," I said, "that he had wronged you."

Bila Huruma smiled. "He regretted bringing me out upon the river by subterfuge," he said. "Yet he may have saved my life by fleeing the palace. One attempt already had been made upon my life. He thought that if he had fled I would no longer be in any immediate danger."

I nodded. Msaliti, needing the protection of the Ubar and his men on the river, would surely desist, at least temporarily in plotting against his life. To be sure, Msaliti had no interest in slaying the Ubar for its own sake. Such a murder was to be only a method for removing an obstacle in the path to the Tahari ring.

"Did Msaliti not encourage you to venture in pursuit of Shaba?" I asked. "Did be not inform you of something of great value which lay in the possession of Shaba?"

"No," said Bila Huruma. "An effort of such a nature was not necessary of his part. I was determined. He only begged to accompany me, which permission I, of course, granted."

"It seems," I said, "that Shaba expected me, or another, to follow him upon the river."

"Yes," said Bila Huruma. "He did not expect to survive, for some reason. He wanted you to follow, or another, perhaps, that his maps and notebooks might be returned safely to civilization."

"It seems so," I said.

"Why did he not expect to survive?" asked Bila Huruma.

"The river, the dangers, illness," I speculated.

"The beasts, surely," said Bila Huruma.

"Yes," I said, "the beasts, too."

"And you, too," said Bila Huruma. "Surely you would have killed him to obtain whatever it was you sought."

"Yes," I said. "Had it been necessary, I would have killed for what I sought."

"It must be very precious," said Bila Huruma.

I nodded. "It was," I said.

"Was?" he asked.

"The Kurii took it," I said, "those who attacked us, the beasts."

"I see," he said.

"Shaba," I said, "told me that he had used you for his purposes. I think it was in that sense, rather than in simply having brought you upon the river, that he felt he had wronged you."

"Of this he spoke to me before he died," said Bila Huruma.

"I do not understand," I said, "how you were used for his purposes.

"Is it not now clear?" he asked, smiling.

"No," I said.

"I was to protect you," he said, "on your return downriver, that the maps and notebooks might safely reach the environs of civilization."

I stood on the landing, stunned. Kisu climbed the stairs to where we stood. "The galleys, the vessels, are ready," he said.

"Very well," said Bila Huruma.

"We will join you momentarily," I said.

Kisu nodded and returned down the stairs to where the galleys and canoes were moored.

"We were both tricked," said Bila Huruma.

"You do not seem bitter," I said.

"I am not, he said.

"We may burn the maps and notebooks," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"I cannot do so," I said.

"Nor I," smiled the Ubar. "We shall take them back to Ushindi, and you may then, with a suitable escort, convey them down the Nyoka to Schendi. Ramani of Anango, who was the teacher of Shaba, awaits them there."

"Shaba planned well," I said.

"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.