I've Got Strength Now to Carry the Flag In the World I See,"' he said to the air with a certain dignity. He has been married five times. He is famous for throwing a lot of money around. The other day, an Italian film director who is working on a film about King Leopold was over for tea and asked Leopold for an interview at the Villa Leopolda. The King said he'd be happy to. The Italian director tried to start a conversation about Leopold's plans for the country. "We plan to set up health clinics for the people of Katanga," King Leopold said. "That's one of my biggest dreams." The director tried again. "But, Your Majesty, we would be interested in hearing about the plans you have for the Congo colony." "Well," said King Leopold, "that's something I prefer to keep to myself. But I do have this very pleasant dream about health clinics for the people of Katanga." This was the last straw. The Italian film director began to rant in Italian. He was soon joined by a French film director who started to speak in French and the director from India, who started to give a long dissertation in English. There was much arm waving, much gesticulating, and, eventually, much fisticuffs. "Why don't we just forget all about this?" said the King. "The problem is, the film company has got such wonderful ideas. All they ever want to hear about is my plans for building new health clinics." "The truth is," said the director from India, "the people of Katanga do not need any health clinics. It's true that many of them are illiterate and suffering from many diseases, but these can be cured by natural means, if only the natives would believe in the benefits of natural medicines." "I like the way your people have expressed themselves," said King Leopold. "By the way, I think it's time for my nap." Ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to ask for your vote for a second term. I hope you will grant me the chance to continue my program of a well-governed and - protected Congo with the help of all the wonderful people who are looking after me. Thank you! King Leopold III "Leopold's Nose Grows On You" Leopoldville, 10 September, 1964 "A very nice little story," said Mamambe. "Yes, very nice." "And the moral of the story is," said Mombety. Mamambe smiled. "The moral of the story is," said Mamambe. "That's when we said, 'How can this be?' and in the end, 'Leopold's Nose Grows On You.'" "But it was a very nice story," said Mombety. "It was." said Mamambe. "It is a bit odd that this man had such a strong nose as the story says." "It was like that when we found him," said Mombety. "His nose was growing like a flower, like the white flower." "Oh, yes, that was what we said," said Mamambe. "A very nice story." "What a nose!" said Mombety. "Yes, a very nice nose," said Mamambe. "But no," said Mombety. "I meant, yes, it was quite a nice story." "The story's always been this way," said Mamambe. "If we find a white man in this country, we know that he's going to die, in the end." "I hope you're right," said Mombety. "I hope you're right." "If it happens, then it happens," said Mamambe. "Yes, if it happens, then it happens." Mombety rubbed his nose. "Your nose," he said, "is long, but it doesn't grow on me." "No, it does not grow on you," said Mamambe. "It is a natural feature that the people of this land do not have." They saw them that afternoon. The two men, Mombety and Mamambe, were hunting on the road. They were on their way to an ape-catching pit. Mamambe said, "This is a very good day. Today is a very good day." They talked about the good day. "And this is the bad day that follows it," said Mamambe. "There are some bad men up there, a lot of bad men." "Mmm," said Mombety. "Are you sure?" Mamambe said, "Mmm." He was sure. "Well, what can you expect from them that they don't know what they're doing?" "True," said Mamambe. "So, we must pray for a good man in the forest," said Mombety. "I hope one will come." They walked and they walked. "Mmm," said Mamambe. "Look at all the game! We saw so many today." Mombety nodded. "We saw many too," he said. "This is a very good day." "There will be many animals tonight," said Mamambe. "Yes, there will be many." "I'm sure there will be a bear tonight," said Mamambe. "I am sure. It was very hot today." "A bear?" said Mombety. "Do you think it will be a white bear?" "A white bear?" said Mamambe. "No. A black bear. But still a good animal." They walked and they walked. "A good animal," said Mamambe. "Yes, a good animal. But a very dangerous one." "So how can we kill him?" said Mombety. "We must kill him with fire." "Yes, it must be burned up," said Mamambe. "A good animal," said Mombety. "A very good animal." They walked and they walked. They said nothing more that afternoon. They walked and they walked. There were too many animals in the forest. Too many animals for a white man, a man who thought that he knew the animals of the forest. A man like Mombety and Mamambe. A man who thought he knew many things. A man who thought he knew the nature of a country, a very simple country in a very complicated world. The man was young and his hair was dark. He was walking through the forest with the two men, Mamambe and Mombety. He walked through the forest as a good man, a good hunter, with his gun in the shoulder, and his eyes looking for game. The good hunter saw many animals in the forest that day. He saw the big-footed animal called a bush pig. He saw the big-footed animal called a sable. A leopard and a bushcat. A spotted ape. But there was nothing in the forest. This was a very small part of a very large forest. Many animals. And there was so many. It was as if the hunter had a headache. The man with dark hair had a headache and it was becoming more and more difficult for him to see and to move. And in a moment, he realized that he was lost. "What?" he said. "A trap? What sort of trap?" He was standing up, now. He was breathing, he was struggling, but he was no longer moving forward. He wanted to lie down, sleep. There was a deep, long slit in his body. His tough hide was gone. He had become exposed to them, to the hunters. "Help!" he said. "I'm caught." He started to back away. But his back was as bare as his front. He tried to hurry, but he was falling. He was on his back. They had gone away, because they were afraid of him, this man whose name they didn't know. They never learned his name. He tried to move and he was moving, but it was a slow motion. He saw the fire start on his body and he heard them laughing, because he had become one of them. He became a white man in the forest. He thought, _They have gone on ahead_. But no, there they were, walking toward him. They had a gun and they were shouting, "A white man, a white man! Kill it!" But he knew what to do, and he wasn't afraid, even though he was the only white man in the world. He