Everywhere the feeling seemed to be that the prosecution of his
schemes was an impossibility. The road was altogether in the clouds.
Trent was flatly told that the labour they required was absolutely
unprocurable. Fortunately Trent knew the country, and he was a man
of resource. From the moment when he had appeared upon the spot,
things had begun to right themselves. He had found Oom Sam
established as a sort of task-master and contractor, and had
promptly dismissed him, with the result that the supply of Kru boys
was instantly doubled. He had found other sources of labour and
started them at once on clearing work, scornfully indifferent to the
often-expressed doubts of the English surveyor as to possibility of
making the road at all. He had chosen overseers with that swift
and intuitive insight into character which in his case amounted
almost to genius. With a half-sheet of notepaper and a pencil, he
had mapped out a road which had made one, at least, of the two
surveyors thoughtful, and had largely increased his respect for the
English capitalist. Now he was on his way back from a tour almost
to Bekwando itself by the route of the proposed road. Already the
work of preparation had begun. Hundreds of natives left in their
track were sawing down palm-trees, cutting away the bush, digging
and making ready everywhere for that straight, wide thoroughfare
which was to lead from Bekwando village to the sea-coast.
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