GIFT OF 
 
SIMBA 
 
 By 
 STEWART EDWARD WHITE 
 
 GARDEN CITY NEW YORK 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1919 
 

 
 Copyright, 1918, by 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved, including that of 
 
 translation into foreign languages, 
 
 including the Scandinavian 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY THB CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPAB? 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE NAMING *^3 
 
 II. WHITE MAGIC . . . . . . 41 
 
 III. TRELAWNEY LEARNS .... 83 
 
 IV. TRUE SPORTSMEN 119 
 
 V. FORCED LABOUR . . . . . 143 
 
 VI. THE GUNBEARER . . . . . 179 
 
 VII. MUTUAL RESPECT 210 
 
 VIII. THE EDGE OF THE RIPPLE . . . 254 
 
 IX. Cow IVORY 283 
 
SIMBA 
 
SIMBA 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE NAMING 
 
 WHEN his first-born son was big enough 
 to toddle about on his own two legs, 
 M Kuni sent him out with the boys and 
 old men to herd the cattle. As yet the son had only a 
 variety of child-names endearing little names such 
 as indicated the real affection in which he was held. 
 Of course he must choose his own man s name; 
 but as yet he had shown no disposition to do so. 
 
 M Kuni was a man of considerable importance. 
 He owned a round house with a conical thatched 
 roof; two spears, one for war with a long slender 
 blade, and one for the chase shaped like a leaf; 
 four wives, of whom one young; three wicker doors; 
 a shield of genuine buffalo hide; considerable wire 
 and bead jewellery; sufficient clothing of goat skin 
 
4 " SIMBA 
 
 to satisfy his sketchy ideas on the subject, and 
 nearly five hundred head of cattle. He led a 
 thoroughly satisfactory life. The immemorial tra 
 ditions of his people were well known to him, so 
 he made few mistakes of action and therefore had 
 very little bad luck. When he had crossed a 
 stream he always spat on a pebble and threw it 
 back into the current; when birds crossed him 
 from right to left he never omitted to count them 
 and conduct his day by their omen; not once did 
 he fail to avert his face when meeting the mother 
 of any of his wives. And so with a thousand other 
 little things. M Kuni was an alert-minded savage. 
 He never forgot or overlooked. It is well known 
 that the gods have no concern with mental atti 
 tudes. Ignorance or forgetfulness are no excuses. 
 They want results. 
 
 , All night M Kuni and his four wives and his 
 various children slept quite comfortably in the 
 circular hut while the five hundred cattle stamped 
 and lowed and splashed about inside the tiny 
 corral that enclosed both them and the house; and 
 other cattle belonging to other houses next door 
 on either side did the same. A heavy thorn wall 
 
THE NAMING 3 
 
 surrounded the collection of houses and corrals 
 and so made the village. 
 
 Soon after dawn the women and older children 
 stirred. The gates were opened. Out from the 
 thorn boma thronged the masses of cattle. They 
 stretched their necks and lowed, and the heavy 
 vibrating diapason overcame even the roar of the 
 lions returning full-fed to their lairs. From a rise 
 near by they would have looked like a spreading 
 dark sluggish flow. They were small, plump, gentle 
 cattle with humps of fat above their shoulders. 
 Then: herders drove them to the pastures ap 
 pointed, and there all day they fed in compact 
 bodies, shimmering in the hot heat mirage like 
 varicoloured patches against the low hills. 
 
 When he felt so inclined M Kuni came into the 
 open air. He always had plenty to do. He could 
 go out to count his cattle and keep acquainted 
 with every individual of them; he could visit 
 his cronies in the village; he could squat outside 
 the council of the elders listening to tales and wise 
 talk; he could oversee the primitive agricultural 
 work performed by his wives; he could polish with 
 wood ashes and herb juice the metal of his or- 
 
6 SIMBA 
 
 naments and weapons; he could join a hunting 
 party on the veldt; he could sit in his own door- 
 yard and play with his own children of whom 
 there was always abundance. M Kuni, like the 
 majority of his people, was very fond of children 
 so the last-named occupation appealed to him 
 most of all. 
 
 In his first born M Kuni took a never-ebbing 
 delight. Never had been such a boy, so straight, 
 so confident, so bold! None of the others could 
 compare with this one! Although the word 
 toto was a general one meaning children, it was 
 always understood that when M Kuni said toto 
 he meant this boy. And so gradually he became 
 known as Toto pending the choosing of his man- 
 name. 
 
 Toto ran stark naked save for a polished brass 
 amulet, and shave-headed save for a trig tuft at 
 his crown. And the day he went forth with the 
 cows he carried a tiny spear. 
 
 II 
 
 IT WAS a wonderful life. The small, naked, lively 
 little figures darted here and there shouting in 
 
THE NAMING 7 
 
 childish treble. The huge, placid beasts obeyed. 
 And then the sun-saturated day on the high veldt, 
 with a wind blowing, and clouds like ships sailing 
 to the edge of the world and over, and the great 
 herds of game feeding in the hollows, and birds 
 wheeling with cries. Toto and his companions 
 stood upon rocks, and watched lest calves stray 
 within reach of hyenas, and ran about with their 
 shrill cries whenever the herd threatened to lose 
 its compactness. For in concentration alone was 
 safety. And between times they shrieked at each 
 other, or played games of war or hunting. 
 
 It may be believed that for a very little boy there 
 were many terrors stalking among the strange 
 nesses of the veldt. Things glided half-seen in 
 the grass; they lurked in shadow; they rustled 
 in thickets; they peered from the dimness of trees. 
 Africa real is a realm of enchantment and dangers; 
 and to Africa real must be added the Africa fan 
 tastic of the small-boy imagination supplemented 
 by the overheard fireside tales of elder small 
 boys with awestruck, shining eyes. Sleeping lions, 
 leopards, rhinoceros, buffalo; lurking hyenas, ba 
 boons; hidden snakes and crocodiles and other 
 
8 SIMBA 
 
 matters of like significance were serious enough 
 hazards, heaven knows. But when one thinks 
 of the Great Gray Hyena whose footfall makes no 
 sound and whose attack is always from the rear; 
 or of the little black man who dwells in rocks and 
 fastens his teeth in throats; or of the invisible 
 Thing whose sole manifestation is its shrieking 
 voice and its biting claws or indeed a dozen of 
 the equally sociable creatures why, then one can 
 not be blamed for looking upon the great, quiet, 
 humpbacked cattle as familiar friends. Espe 
 cially since the world around is very large and one s 
 self is very small. And a wild-eyed, dashing, 
 breathless foray to yonder point of rocks and back 
 may require the resolution of a Great Adventure. 
 The only comfort was that most of these things, 
 from lions on, were deadliest at night. But one 
 can never be sure! 
 
 Toto s most intimate friend was a youngster 
 slightly older than himself named Maongo. This 
 youth was a very wonderful being because he 
 happened to be two years older and to possess a 
 nature whose stupidity manifested itself in aloof 
 ness. Therefore Toto did his best to show off 
 
THE NAMING 9 
 
 before Maongo, dashing a little farther out than 
 any one else, displaying unusual zeal in his simple 
 duties, talking with a swagger, acting in imitation 
 of the best models among his elders; and always 
 with a concealed side glance to discover how the 
 older boy was taking it. The older boy was, in 
 general, taking it very well. That is to say, he was 
 so fully occupied with his own inmost being that 
 he paid no great attention to his small adorer. 
 Once he aroused himself to clip Toto savagely 
 over the head. Thereupon Toto adored him more 
 than ever, a fact that has little to do with this part 
 of our story, but should be filed for future ref 
 erence. 
 
 Besides tending cattle there were other ac 
 tivities such as tagging along behind his mother to 
 the broad, sluggish, muddy river and there watch 
 ing her wash beans, or he might go with her into 
 the still, vine-entangled, mysterious forest. There 
 she hacked at huge trees with a ridiculous, short- 
 handled axe whose blade was not more than two 
 inches wide, shrieking at her neighbours, consumed 
 with giggles and jokes. It seemed to Toto that she 
 had been chipping at the same tree for an incred- 
 
io SIMBA 
 
 ible series of days, which was true; and he foresaw 
 no result. The idea never occurred to him that the 
 labour had any ulterior end beyond the mere fun 
 of it. That was considerable. The axe made a 
 most satisfying slamming noise against the silence 
 of the forest; every once in a while a white chip 
 fell away. The shadows were cool there, after 
 the sun outside, and the monkey-people carried 
 on most amusing business in the upper world. 
 And one wonderful day there materialized in the 
 background a great shadowy mass, without sound, 
 quietly, as though in the depths of the other 
 shadows this one great, dark one had thickened 
 like a cloud. And one by one other masses 
 materialized until there were six of them. Toto 
 stared with all his eyes. He caught the gleam of 
 yellow- white, the slow sway and swing of moving 
 things. And then suddenly he saw eyes, little 
 wicked eyes, staring at him. 
 
 His mother and the other women had fallen 
 silent. They picked up their little axes, and the 
 goat-skin shawls they had cast aside, and quietly 
 and unhastingly withdrew, step by step, cere 
 monially, without turning their backs. And the 
 
THE NAMING n 
 
 great, strange things stood swaying until the 
 women had departed, then came forward into the 
 clearing, as though taking possession of a right. 
 
 "What was it?" Toto asked his mother. 
 
 "They were my Lords, the Elephants, who 
 wished to use their own," she replied. 
 
 And when he was old enough he even accom 
 panied his father and some of the older men on 
 short hunts near at hand. This was vastly 
 exciting; but, it must be confessed, not too often 
 productive. Across certain well-known narrow 
 gaps in the hills sticks were bound together 
 tripod- wise. Beneath each tripod squatted a 
 hunter armed with bow and spear. He was in 
 plain sight but he sat still as an image, and the 
 beasts when driven did not appear to notice him. 
 Possibly the tripod of sticks effectively blurred the 
 outline. Others, the youngest and most active, 
 tried to herd the game past the blinds. The 
 animals were wild from much driving, and only 
 rarely did they pass near enough to receive one 
 of the deadly little poisoned arrows. But when a 
 kongoni or a zebra or even, happy day, a wilde- 
 beeste was downed, what a celebration! 
 
12 SIMBA 
 
 No matter what the occupation of the day, the 
 setting sun witnessed veldt and forest vacated by 
 all its human inhabitants and their possessions. 
 Man s dominion in Africa ends with the day 
 light; and the lion, the lord of the darker hours, 
 comes into his own. Little Toto used to creep to 
 the gate of the boma and listen. First there were 
 the deep coughing grunts, here, there, near, far, 
 as the beasts greeted one another across the spaces. 
 Then some mighty old male, hungry but scorn 
 fully careless, would roar. The deep, vibrating 
 tones filled all the cup of heaven. And when the 
 last rumbling had died silence held the world. 
 No zebra barked, no buck snorted, no hyena 
 laughed, no bird cried. All the veldt seemed to 
 be holding its mighty breath, awaiting the pleasure 
 of its lord. And little Toto, trembling, crept back 
 to the hut. 
 
 Ill 
 
 WHEN Toto had reached the age of ten, and had 
 added a necklet of leather sewn with blue and 
 white beads to his other possessions, an excite 
 ment reached the camp. Over the blue hills 
 
THE NAMING 13 
 
 to the west a white man was approaching! News 
 of him came to the village mysteriously between 
 sun-down and sun-up, a time when no human is 
 abroad. Neither did any stranger arrive. Yet 
 before the gates were thrown open for the cattle 
 all knew of this white man, and what he looked 
 like, and with how many men he travelled. How 
 the news arrived is one of the mysteries of Africa. 
 The village was a-hum with it; and To to and his 
 companions lingered and procrastinated and de 
 layed in order to hear more until old Shimbo, 
 the witch-doctor, laid to them with his staff. 
 There were no games that day. The boys squat 
 ted in a compact little group and talked. 
 
 They had all heard of white men, but none of 
 them had ever seen one. This was in the days 
 when white men were very few. The boys were 
 secretly a little afraid; outwardly, of course, 
 very boastful. They all bragged of what they 
 would do were they elders and were a white man 
 to enter their country; and they dismissed with 
 airy nonchalance the stories of the white man s 
 wonders the striking of fire, the gun, the tents and 
 chairs and everyday miracles that, garbled and 
 
i 4 SIMBA 
 
 distorted in transmission through many tongues, 
 reached this hilltop in strange and awesome 
 guises. The more they chattered, the more ex 
 cited they became. Only Maongo maintained his 
 imperturbable, calm silence. And Toto, being by 
 nature excitable, looked up to him the more on 
 that account, and admired his coolness and 
 courage. 
 
 The cattle were driven from the hills earlier 
 than usual that evening. Nobody objected, for 
 the people were in a tumult. This little village, 
 it must be explained, lay near the edge of the 
 higher hills to the eastward. From that direction 
 came neither travel nor war. It was a backwater. 
 Now, suddenly, it was called upon to take its part 
 in the world s affairs. 
 
 Old Shimbo, the witch-doctor, was very busy 
 and very mysterious. He had on his headdress 
 and mask with the wildebeeste horns; and the 
 feathered armlets and anklets; and the string of 
 bells that reached from his waist to his knees; 
 and he had painted in white on his naked body a 
 picture of his skeleton, death size, and was al 
 together an awful and inspiring object. Before 
 
THE NAMING 15 
 
 a little queer-smelling fire he was laying out certain 
 sacred but undetermined objects and substances, 
 muttering darkly to himself. From the forest 
 came long files of women, bent double, carrying on 
 their backs by means of straps passing across the 
 tops of their heads, great loads of firewood. This 
 they deposited in the centre of the village. And 
 before all the huts the girls and younger women 
 were sorting and polishing various articles of 
 clothing, jewellery, bead work, and other ornament. 
 A row of drums, big as barrels, stood the other 
 side of the growing pile of fuel. 
 
 Toto and his companions hastily impounded the 
 cattle and raced to the big tree beneath which 
 squatted every able-bodied man left in the 
 village. His father was not there; and soon Toto 
 learned that he, with others, had taken his spear, 
 a section of sugar cane, and a gourdful of mixed 
 blood and milk, and had gone forth to hover on the 
 flanks of the white man s safari. From the con 
 versation of those who remained he learned a 
 number of things: that the white man was a very 
 formidable and fearsome creature; that the war 
 riors of the village would do their duty at all costs. 
 
16 SIMBA 
 
 An impartial person would have detected more 
 than a slight nervousness beneath this loudly 
 expressed determination; and if he were partic 
 ularly intelligent he would have foreboded trouble 
 were that nervousness allowed to explode into 
 action! There is danger in any situation that 
 no one quite knows how to handle. 
 
 For the duty of this village was very simple. 
 It was the law that through the lands of these 
 people no man could pass without permission 
 from the paramount chief, Leyeye. This per 
 mission was to be obtained by the payment of a 
 tribute called the honga. A high official of 
 Leyeye s court met all strangers at the frontier. 
 He planted his long spear upright in the ground. 
 The traveller then threw over it coils of copper or 
 iron wire. His treatment depended on how far 
 up the spear the coils of wire extended. Very 
 wealthy travellers had even been known to bury 
 the spear completely. They were then permitted 
 to go where they wished and to spend as long a time 
 as they pleased. But such munificence was rare 
 and not to be expected. And now for the first 
 time this little village happened to be on tb* 
 
THE NAMING 17 
 
 frontier. Its men must stop this white man and 
 hold him until Leyeye s envoys arrived. They 
 had never had any experience; and they had no 
 idea how it was to be done. Suppose the white 
 man refused to stop? 
 
 At dusk the fire was lighted. The drums began 
 to roar. Shimbo, looking like a terrible devil with 
 horns, capered around and around the blaze, 
 throwing various queer-smelling, quick-burning 
 substances on the flames. The women wailed 
 shrill chants that swelled and died down and 
 swelled again, following the throbbing of the 
 drums. The men dressed in their utmost mag 
 nificence, looking fiercely imposing under their 
 black ostrich plumes, shook their weapons and 
 swayed in unison. 
 
 All that night the n goma lasted. It increased 
 its intensity; it became toward the close an orgy 
 of movement, of rhythmic emotion that at times 
 suddenly broke in shrieking, foaming hysteria. 
 And old Shimbo cast his spells, and at the dawn 
 they all crept to their huts completely exhausted. 
 But in some way it was felt that considerable 
 had been done about it. 
 
i8 SIMBA 
 
 That very day the white man arrived. He 
 marched over the hills at the head of some thirty 
 men; proceeded in a business-like fashion to the 
 bottom land near the stream; looked about for a 
 few moments, and then, standing upright in the 
 centre, began to give orders. In his hand he held 
 a slender whip of rhinoceros hide with which he 
 pointed, now here, now there. And at his bid 
 ding his men scampered about doing things in a 
 marvellous and unheard-of manner. 
 
 Toto and his adored Maongo and all the other 
 boys of their age were standing about watching, 
 you may be sure. For what purpose were the 
 younger boys created save to take over the job 
 when their elders wished to view wonders? A 
 disconsolate band of the smaller fry some with 
 fresh bruises on their top-knots watched the 
 cattle. 
 
 Nothing escaped the keen eyes of the older 
 boys. The white man was satisfactorily big, and 
 wore a bushy black beard which among people 
 comparatively beardless was distinction enough. 
 But it must be remembered that even the smallest, 
 pettiest, most trivial detail buttons and button- 
 
THE NAMING 19 
 
 holes, belt buckles, the cut of clothes, the hat, 
 hob-nails, a half hundred such trifles were not 
 only brand new and strange, but the use and mean 
 ing of them must often be guessed at. Toto 
 and his friends stood like little straight bronze 
 statues; their elders squatted about at a little 
 distance, motionless; but a hundred pair of eyes 
 brimmed with quick curiosity and observation. 
 
 Things moved in that camp with incredible 
 swiftness. A double tent went up, chop-boxes 
 were piled to make a sort of table, a tin box was 
 deposited and unlocked, a light folding chair was 
 placed. The white man sat down in this and 
 filled a pipe. Then occurred the first miracle. 
 The white man produced a tiny sliver of wood no 
 bigger than a twig. He touched it carelessly to 
 the underside of the thing in which he sat, and 
 instantly it burst into flame! 
 
 This was too much. The carefully preserved 
 equilibrium tottered. A simultaneous cry of 
 amazement broke from all in sight. 
 
 With this definite transcending of the laws of 
 nature the white man entered once and for all the 
 ranks of a different species possessed of extra- 
 
20 SIMBA 
 
 human powers. Anything in the miracle line 
 he might in the future perform would perhaps 
 terrify, and certainly interest, but would not 
 astonish. Why should it? When a man proves 
 himself superior to one immutable natural law, 
 what is to prevent his being superior also to the 
 others? If he can make fire with a twig which 
 is of course impossible why should he not fly 
 or talk over a wire or jump over the moon or do 
 any other thing that may please his fancy? 
 
 This white man was not a reassuring individual. 
 He never so much as glanced toward any of his 
 numerous audience. His own affairs he carried 
 on briefly with a small, lively, black man whose 
 face was wrinkled. After a few minutes this little 
 man, whom Toto heard named as Cazi Moto, 
 brought food and served it, which was another 
 most absorbing thing to watch. Toto s imagi 
 nation cooled in contemplation of what he would 
 do toward detaining this awesome individual 
 should the latter not care to be detained. Realiz 
 ing to the full his hopeless inferiority in such mat 
 ters as diplomatic negotiation and miracles, he 
 could think of nothing save to get together as 
 
THE NAMING 21 
 
 big a crowd as possible, and all together to rush in 
 and kill. Which was precisely the reasoning that 
 was passing through the minds of, his elders. 
 
 By now the more important of the latter were 
 beginning officially to appear. For a time they 
 had squatted with the common herd, satisfying 
 their curiosity, but soon they had retired to the 
 village in search of grandeur. They came by 
 twos and little groups, and they were very won 
 derful to look upon, what with the encircling 
 ostrich plumes and their polished wire and bead 
 jewellery, and their long bright spears, and their 
 lozenge-shaped painted hide shields. Silently 
 they gathered closer and closer until they stood in 
 an unbroken semicircle ten feet distant. The 
 white man seemed unaware of their existence, 
 and continued to cut his food. The warriors 
 shifted from one foot to another, a good deal, it 
 must be confessed, like waiting schoolboys. 
 Finally young Sabuk, the biggest dandy and the 
 most self assured, grinned and ventured a bashful 
 greeting: 
 
 "Jambo, bwana" 
 
 The white man leisurely lifted a hard, aggressive 
 
22 SIMBA 
 
 stare to Sabuk s face. After several tense and 
 to Sabuk agonizing seconds, he called: 
 
 "Cazi Moto!" 
 
 The little black man hurried up. The white 
 man pointed to Sabuk with his whip. 
 
 "Is this the n ympara?"* he asked in Swahili. 
 
 A chorus answered him in the negative. The 
 traveller, paying no attention to these volunteer 
 replies, waited for Cazi Moto. 
 
 "Tell this man who has spoken that I wish to 
 see the n ympara immediately," he commanded, 
 and at once became totally oblivious of all human 
 insects. After a few moments he entered his 
 tent and the flaps fell behind him. 
 
 The boys and their elders remained staring 
 after him. Here, thought To to, was a great lord. 
 
 After a few moments they trailed away to where 
 Cazi Moto squatted before a tiny fire. Here was 
 no aloofness and no apparent reticence. In five 
 minutes they were all jabbering and chattering 
 and shrieking native fashion. 
 
 * The form of this question in itself indicated the traveller s knowledge of his sub 
 ject. N ympara means headman. If the white man had desired to convey a compli 
 ment or sense of importance, he would have inquired for the Sultani, which means 
 king. 
 
THE NAMING 23 
 
 The white man, Cazi Moto informed them, 
 was the greatest white man in the world. He was 
 the son, or at least near relative, of the King of 
 the Inglishi and of the sun, moon, and stars. He 
 was so strong that with one hand he could lift a 
 buffalo from the ground, and was so great a lord 
 that never in any circumstances did he have to use 
 his strength. With sublime disregard for the small- 
 ness of his retinue and the comparative poverty 
 of his equipment, Cazi Moto went on to describe 
 his immense wealth "as the leaves of the grass!" 
 He fought the elephant for its ivory and his path 
 was marked with bones of lions. With Cazi 
 Moto s efficient aid he had come a long journey, 
 very long, from another country where was 
 water to the edge of the world and no land to 
 be seen, like the water of Naivasha, but no farther 
 shore. 
 
 "And why/ 7 asked one of his listeners politely, 
 "does not the water spill over the edge and run 
 away, as it is the custom of water to do?" 
 
 "That is part of the white man s magic," said 
 Cazi Moto boldly, and went on in conclusion to 
 say that his master was named Kingozi, that is to 
 
24 SIMBA 
 
 say the Bearded One, and that never, in any cir 
 cumstances, did he miss a shot with his gun. 
 
 "We have never seen a gun," said the native 
 spokesman respectfully. " Is it true that it makes 
 a noise like the thunder, and kills at a distance like 
 the lightning?" 
 
 "Make my Lord angry, and you shall see!" 
 replied Cazi Moto darkly. 
 
 At this moment old Shimbo, having cast aside 
 his r61e of witch-doctor and assumed that of head 
 man, came up. Cazi Moto scratched on the can 
 vas of his master s tent and the white man came 
 out. 
 
 "Ah, n ympara jambo," he greeted, and the 
 dignitaries shook hands. 
 
 IV 
 
 To EVERYBODY S relief it developed that the 
 white man had no intention of moving on, at least 
 for several days. Few natives look beyond the 
 immediate present, so that was good enough. 
 Relations were begun between the members of the 
 village and the carriers. Shimbo gave orders that 
 firewood and m weinbe meal be brought in. 
 
THE NAMING 25 
 
 M Kuni, discovering his son and heir in the ranks 
 of onlookers, clouted him over the head and sent 
 him scurrying back to his neglected duties. 
 
 On the hilltop with the cattle, Toto was im 
 mensely surprised to discover that Maongo was 
 far from sharing his thrills over this new demi-god. 
 It was not that the older boy said much in dis 
 paragement as that he failed to respond to or take 
 much interest in his friend s dithyrambs. Toto s 
 explanations dashed against a stolidity that flat 
 tened them. After a half hour he began to doubt 
 the value of his own impressions. By sheer in 
 ertia Maongo had regained his threatened su 
 periority with his small companion. 
 
 Three days went by. The white man s camp 
 remained. Twice he went out on the veldt and 
 shot beasts, some of which he retained for him 
 self, and others he presented to the village. Toto, 
 chained to duty, was unable to accompany these 
 expeditions, but he heard fully-embellished tales 
 of how the gun spoke with a roaring voice like a 
 god, and how without an instant s pause the beast 
 fell; and he himself saw the carcasses and examined 
 the holes from which life had escaped. The 
 
26 SIMBA 
 
 instant, however, the cattle had been safely im 
 pounded, he and his friends raced to the camp 
 by the river where they hung around like small 
 boys at a circus until ordered out. And before the 
 three days were up, so adaptable is the human 
 mind, they had become quite accustomed to the 
 white man, as though they had always had him 
 with them. To members of neighbouring but 
 distant villages they would probably have acted 
 quite blase concerning the white man. 
 
 On the third day came the officials from Leyeye. 
 These were magnificent men, haughty, proud, 
 inaccessible, with robes of bead-embroidered goat 
 skins, much jewellery, their heads shaved in fan 
 tastic patterns. Each man was accompanied by 
 slaves carrying such things as small hewn wooden 
 stools on thongs, or snuff boxes made of buffalo 
 horns, or kiboko whips. They and their retinue 
 at once occupied the great houses in the middle 
 of the village. 
 
 That very night they and the white man held 
 a council. 
 
 From any but a native point of view the talk 
 was long, purposeless, and without result. Yet in 
 
THE NAMING 27 
 
 some manner several bits of information came to 
 light. The white man, Kingozi, developed un 
 suspected powers of entertainment. He could 
 swallow a small object, or toss it into the air, and 
 then pluck it from the strangest places, such as a 
 man s ear or the edge of his robe. He possessed a 
 queer double instrument of opposed blades with 
 which he cut folded paper in such a manner that 
 when unfolded one had a whole row of little 
 people ahold of hands. And many other examples 
 of magic. But none was more wonderful than 
 the making of fire with the twig. Therefore, these 
 things made rather for interest than for added 
 prestige. And next day Kingozi shot a wildebeeste 
 and gave the tail to Leyeye s prime minister, and 
 for hours all hands sat under a tree and talked, so 
 that everything seemed to be going well. Never 
 theless, affairs were edging into an impasse. It 
 appeared that this white man had come right 
 across Africa from the Atlantic Ocean; that such 
 a journey was long and terrible and expensive, not 
 to speak of the fact that transportation was 
 limited; that while his wealth was "as the leaves 
 of the grass," he had not much of it with him. In 
 
28 SIMBA 
 
 short, that the payment of honga was at present 
 absolutely out of the question. The suggestion was 
 strongly urged, however, that as a fighter of 
 elephants he was in a class by himself; and that 
 within a very brief period he would be able in 
 short, a bid for credit. The envoys had nothing 
 direct to say to this. Everybody was very polite 
 and vague. But a situation was taking shape, 
 and would shortly assume solidity. On the one 
 hand, no honga no travel; on the other, I will go 
 where I please. 
 
 V 
 
 TOTO, along with the rest of the village, was 
 awakened by a plunging and bawling just outside. 
 The usually mild cattle were rushing to and fro 
 madly, jostling each other and the frail walls of 
 the hut. Beneath the din of their voices was 
 another, a low, rumbling, bloodcurdling growl. 
 Everybody rushed forth, the men snatching their 
 weapons, the women grasping armfuls of the dry 
 thatch. These latter cast on the smouldering fires 
 blazed up at once, throwing the immediate sur 
 roundings into strong light. The cattle were 
 
THE NAMING 29 
 
 tossing their heads, their eyes white with terror. 
 Two or three of the flimsy interior fences had 
 given way to the pressure and the herds were 
 surging out into the open common, trampling the 
 embers of the conical fires and crashing through 
 all that stood in their way. 
 
 The people were rushing toward a single point 
 near the great gate. Several had snatched brands 
 which they were waving about, trying to coax 
 them into flame. Some of the women were carry 
 ing bundles of blazing grass and screaming. There 
 seemed to be a narrow, irregular gap in the walls 
 of the thorn boma, and through this everybody, 
 screeching and yelling, was trying to crowd. All 
 were shouting the same over and over simba! 
 simba! simba! which is the Swahili for lion. 
 
 Toto was small, so he managed to get through 
 the gap only after most of the others had passed. 
 
 The light outside, cast by the impromptu 
 torches, was dim and flickering. Toto saw dancing 
 shadows, and the immense darkness of the night 
 that darted forward and back, and the flash of 
 many poised spears and the whites of many 
 eyeballs and the gleam of teeth in the mouths of 
 
30 SIMBA 
 
 men shouting. And beyond he saw a magnificent 
 great beast standing one paw on a dead cow that 
 it had carried bodily thus far, its ears back, its 
 mane erect, its long teeth exposed, eyeing its 
 hesitating enemies with haughty scorn. Each 
 breath growled in its throat. Then realizing itself 
 closely pressed, it withdrew its massive paw. 
 Abruptly it was gone. 
 
 VI 
 
 THIS excitement lasted the village all night. 
 The fires were built up strongly so that the 
 place was as light as day. Women mended the 
 boma and the inside corrals, and drove back the 
 cattle to their proper places. Everybody talked 
 at great length and from each individual stand 
 point. In the morning Leyeye s envoys and the 
 leading men of the village went over to see the 
 white man about it. They suggested two things: 
 medicine to bring the defunct cow to life, and 
 magic to prevent repetition. Kingozi proposed 
 that, as a compromise, they try to hunt down and 
 kill the offender. 
 
 Accordingly they took the field. Kingozi went 
 
THE NAMING 31 
 
 first, carrying a gun; Cazi Moto at his heels bore 
 another. The envoys from Leyeye armed with 
 spears and a miscellaneous few of the bolder vil 
 lagers acted as scouts and beaters. A mosquito 
 fleet of small boys constituted a sort of covering 
 and flanking party. Kingozi tried in vain to modify 
 this arrangement, but failing he shrugged his 
 shoulders philosophically. 
 
 "This is, of course, shenzi foolishness," he re 
 marked to his familiar, Cazi Moto, "simba will 
 hear us and will walk away. For as you know, 
 Cazi Moto, simba is no fool." 
 
 Nevertheless, for the sake of good feeling and 
 to show intention Kingozi proceeded for a while 
 although perfunctorily, as though he expected to 
 find the lion. 
 
 Of this country the open grass veldt was marked 
 in the bottoms by narrow, bush-grown, eroded 
 ravines from six to ten feet deep called dongas. 
 The hunting party proceeded down one of these 
 and up another, trying systematically to cover all 
 possibilities. Some walked on one side and some 
 on the other. All threw stones and beat with 
 sticks. Kingozi knew that, while this method 
 
32 SIMBA 
 
 might be good in isolated patches of cover, it was 
 worthless here. The lion would quietly sneak 
 down the bed of the donga ahead of this clatter. 
 
 But it was fun for all that. Kingozi, who was 
 very young in spite of his beard, enjoyed himself 
 hugely. The showers of stones flushed all sorts of 
 interesting things. One never knew what was 
 coming next. Now a tiny grass antelope dashed 
 frantically from cover, or a bustard flopped up, or 
 a string of guinea fowl soared away, or perhaps a 
 band of baboons withdrew cursing. Mile after 
 mile they went thus. 
 
 "Here," said Kingozi to Cazi Moto, "is water 
 everywhere and cover. This is not like a country 
 of rocky hills where there are only a few places to 
 look. Here simba can drink anywhere he pleases. 
 One might as well seek virtue in an Arab." 
 
 But no sooner were the words out of his mouth 
 when they were given the lie. 
 
 From a clump of grass atop a low anthill, not 
 thirty yards distant, a lion thrust his head and 
 stared at them steadily. 
 
 Everybody stopped short in his tracks. Quite 
 deliberately Kingozi raised his weapon, took care- 
 
THE NAMING 33 
 
 ful aim, and fired. With a strangled grunt the 
 beast fell backward off the anthill and his tail 
 flew up in the manner of lions when fatally hit. 
 For a moment no one moved: then with a wild 
 yell every man and boy charged down on the 
 fallen marauder. 
 
 "Stop! stop!" shrieked Kingozi at the top of 
 his lungs, but was unable to make himself heard. 
 Swearing vigorously in English he exchanged guns 
 with Cazi Moto and also ran forward. 
 
 However, the lion proved really dead, for a 
 wonder. It was a medium-sized beast with an 
 excellent mane. Cazi Moto, laying aside his rule, 
 began at once to skin it. 
 
 After the first excitement and interest had 
 passed away many of the assistants scattered. 
 Some of the men and small boys began to try for 
 small bucks with their throwing sticks. Others 
 sought wild fruit. The two chief envoys from 
 Leyeye walked deep in conversation farther along 
 the edge of the donga. Toto and Maongo, with 
 their little spears, tagged along wide-eyed and 
 worshipping of such grandeur. 
 
 Now all this was foolishness. A lion is never 
 
34 SIMBA 
 
 dead until you pull his tail; and in Africa danger 
 is never absent while you are afoot. This lion 
 had a mate; and many attested incidents and ac 
 cidents prove that when bereaved/e/w leo cherishes 
 rancor. Toto heard a scrambling, a snarling 
 growl. He whirled to see a lioness top the edge 
 of the donga just behind him. 
 
 Toto s instinct a perfectly proper one was to 
 use his legs. He uttered a howl and started to 
 make off. In the flash of his turning he caught a 
 glimpse of his friend and hero Maongo. Maon- 
 go was not running away. He was facing in the 
 direction of the lioness, his little spear grasped 
 in his hand. He alone with Toto stood between 
 the ravening beast and the sacred persons of the 
 envoys. It was exactly like the high-flown tales 
 Toto had heard told around the campfires 
 tales of heroes and demi-gods of the fabled past. 
 Only this was here and now: and Maongo was 
 taking the shining role! Filled with a sudden 
 tide of generous feeling, Toto commanded his 
 cowardly legs. He raised his spear as though to 
 throw and stepped forward two paces, a slender, 
 ridiculous, tiny bronze figure against the great beast. 
 
THE NAMING 35 
 
 And Maongo, whom the gods had stricken with the 
 imbecile paralysis of terror probably for this very 
 purpose, suddenly regained his faculties, dropped 
 his spearlet, and departed rapidly, uttering shrieks. 
 
 Whether Toto would have followed him or not 
 it is impossible to say. Toto was no hero; only a 
 hero worshipper who had been foully betrayed 
 into a great moment. But he had no time to 
 move. The lioness swept over and by him. Prob 
 ably she considered herself after larger game, 
 and could not bother with small fry. At any rate, 
 Toto thrust valiantly with his tiny spear, and was 
 knocked aside badly scared, out of wind, but un 
 injured. 
 
 Then many things happened. The envoys 
 squealed and tried to run. Kingozi swore, grabbed 
 his rule, and shot hastily. Some of the villagers 
 took to thorn trees, some dived incontinently 
 into the donga, while still others stood frozen in 
 their tracks. All yelled. 
 
 Kingozi s snap shot took the lioness too far 
 back to stop her; but fortunately slowed her 
 down. Otherwise her superiority in speed would 
 very promptly have rewarded her with one 
 
36 SIMBA 
 
 scared old gentleman. As it was, she could go just 
 about a good fast human gait. And as the scared 
 old gentleman elected to run in circles instead of 
 on a straightaway, the whole action of the piece 
 took place in a constricted area. It was undoubt 
 edly somewhat comic the complete breakdown 
 of dignity, the flapping goat-skin robes, the 
 important ambassador suddenly become quite 
 simply an agonized embodiment of abject terror; 
 and the crippled lioness trying with an earnest 
 singleness of purpose to catch up, and the chase 
 turning around and around on itself like a Sunday- 
 supplement drawing of a bulldog after a tramp. 
 However, the situation was serious enough. One 
 blow of that huge paw would be sufficient. 
 
 Kingozi, still swearing vigorously, shouting un 
 heard commands to run in a straight line, was 
 trying in vain to deliver a safe shot. 
 
 The old man would not listen, he persisted in 
 running in circles, he could not separate himself 
 far enough from the beast to get out of bullet 
 danger. The lioness was gaining, and the rep 
 resentative of Leyeye was doing his utmost. 
 Even the hot breath of the beast failed to develop 
 
THE NAMING 37 
 
 in him another second of speed. Finally Kingozi, 
 still cursing, was forced to shoot anyhow. And by 
 the greatest good fortune the bullet missed the 
 man and broke the beast s neck. 
 
 "Of all astounding bull luck!" quoth Kingozi 
 in English, wiping his brow. 
 
 VII 
 
 THE excitement settled, as dust settles in still 
 air. Those who had climbed the thorn trees 
 descended with many lamentations; those who 
 had dived into the donga reappeared; those who 
 had been frozen thawed out into vociferations. 
 The envoys gradually regained their dignity. 
 Considerable language was used. 
 
 Kingozi paid no attention to any of this. He 
 had fallen back into his usual rather cynical 
 aloofness. With Cazi Moto he exchanged a few 
 low- voiced comments; then the two of them went 
 to the dead lioness and Cazi Moto began to skin 
 her. Kingozi watched him. A dozen times he 
 was addressed by one or another of the excited 
 and triumphant bystanders, but was apparently 
 so lost in a brown study that he did not even hear 
 
38 SIMBA 
 
 them. When the skin was at last removed and 
 drawn one side he shook himself and seemed to 
 rouse. 
 
 " Come here," he said to the envoy. 
 
 When the old man had approached Kingozi took 
 from his hand the long, heavy spear and with a 
 strong thrust stuck it upright in the ground. 
 
 "You have asked of me honga" he said, "and 
 if I possessed wire I would gladly bury that 
 spear in coils. But I have told you I have no 
 wire. Nevertheless, the time has come to pay. 
 Here now, according to custom, over the spear I 
 throw my honga" 
 
 He stooped swiftly, gathered the green hide of 
 the lioness in his two hands, and with a powerful 
 effort impaled it on the spear point. The soft 
 folds fell about the shaft, completely covering it. 
 
 "Is it sufficient?" he challenged. 
 
 The old man raised his hands that still trembled. 
 
 "It is sufficient, bwana, and morel" he replied. 
 
 Kingozi broke into a great laugh and looked 
 around him. 
 
 "Where is the boy?" he enquired. "The boy 
 who stood in the way? " 
 
THE NAMING 39 
 
 Several shoved forward Toto; and Maongo, his 
 nerve by now quite recovered, stepped up of his 
 own accord. For some seconds Kingozi stared at 
 the two of them in silence. Then he gave Maongo 
 a box in the side of the head that sent him reeling. 
 
 "How is it that a coward dares stand before 
 me?" he said, without heat. "Begone!" He 
 unskeathed his hunting knife and cut from the 
 carcass of the lioness a piece of the body fat. 
 With this he solemnly rubbed Toto s forehead. 
 
 "The lion, simba, is bravest among beasts/ 
 said he. "Remember that this magic will make 
 it possible for you to be the bravest among your 
 companions." He grinned under his beard as he 
 contemplated the serious, erect little figure. "And 
 that wouldn t be saying much," he remarked, but 
 in English. " What is your name? " he asked. 
 
 Toto stood very straight, clasping his tiny spear 
 and staring at the white man. His little soul was 
 so full of splendour and glory and high emotion 
 that he would have cried had he tried to speak; 
 and greatly Toto desired not to cry. And in 
 truth he hardly heard the question. Kingozi 
 repeated it. A half-dozen bystanders attempted 
 
40 SIMBA 
 
 to volunteer the information; but the white man 
 held up his hand. 
 
 " Answer !" he commanded. 
 
 And Toto, his adoration of his new hero shining 
 from his eyes, found his voice at last. His shoul 
 ders went back and his head up. 
 
 "My name is Simba!" he said. 
 
CHAPTER n 
 WHITE MAGIC 
 
 OLD SHIMBO, the witch-doctor, was full 
 of business these days. Affairs had piled 
 up on him: and as Shimbo was by now 
 an aged man with the irascibility of one long in 
 unopposed authority, he considered that he was 
 having a hard time of it. 
 
 Outside the routine duties peculiar to his job, 
 Shimbo was confronted by two other weighty 
 affairs. A four-year period had passed, and now 
 another batch of youths was awaiting the elabo 
 rate initiation ceremonies that should turn them 
 out as full-fledged warriors; the white man s hard- 
 fought war with the Wakamba was coming to an 
 end and the mighty people of whom Shimbo was 
 one lay next in the conqueror s path. These 
 things must be attended to. 
 
 Old Shimbo dwelt in a little hut just within the 
 village enclosure. His wives he kept next door in 
 
 41 
 
42 SIMBA 
 
 a larger hut, together with the considerable 
 wealth he had accumulated. No one was ever 
 allowed to enter the little hut. It was a queer 
 kennel, hung with such matters as bits of skin, 
 gourds filled with miscellaneous magic, iron bells 
 on the ends of thongs, bones, dried herbs in 
 packets. A couch of skins occupied one corner. 
 
 From this Shimbo stirred his creaking bones 
 only after the sun was well up. Then he huddled 
 at his doorstep before a tiny fire over which bub 
 bled a mysterious pot. One of his hags brought 
 him food. The cattle had long since moved out 
 from the village to the hills; and the people were 
 busy with their accustomed routine. Shimbo mut 
 tered darkly to himself. 
 
 To him came rather timidly a bright-faced young 
 native, his arm around the waist of an attractive 
 young woman. They stood waiting bashfully. 
 
 "O Shimbo!" greeted the young man timidly. 
 
 " What is it? " grunted Shimbo. 
 
 The young man explained. He was owner of a 
 new shamba, or little farm, just beyond the village. 
 His crops were ripening. Thieves were stealing 
 the crops- " 
 
WHITE MAGIC 43 
 
 Shimbo waved his skinny hand. 
 
 "I have no time for such little things," he 
 croaked. 
 
 The young man became urgent. He was newly 
 married. These crops were all his wealth except 
 
 he would pay He drew from beneath his 
 
 goat-skin robe an ornamented snuff-horn which he 
 offered. Shimbo snatched it, looked it over, 
 thrust it beneath his own robe, and silently 
 reached out his skinny hand. The consultant 
 sighed and slowly produced a bead armlet. Shim 
 bo examined this also. Apparently satisfied, he 
 made a long arm into his hut and dragged from it 
 a leopard skin, which he spread before him. On 
 this he proceeded to spill one by one various seeds 
 and pebbles from a gourd, first shaking them as 
 one shakes dice. As each fell on the spotted skin 
 he examined it closely but without comment 
 other than an occasional non-committal grunt. 
 When the last pebble had fallen he sat for some 
 time in silence. Then, gathering up the leopard 
 skin, he disappeared into his hut. Emerging 
 thence he passed swiftly, for one so old, to the 
 council tree. There a few words to the loungers 
 
44 SIMBA 
 
 conveyed his wishes. The whole masculine and 
 a considerable of the feminine portions of the 
 village followed him through the gates into the 
 open fields. 
 
 Arrived at the farm in question he halted the 
 spectators at the boundaries, while he himself, 
 bent nearly double, traversed the field from end 
 to end. Every ten feet or so he cast unguessable 
 small objects on the ground, muttering strange 
 gibberish over each. The people looked with 
 awe. When Shimbo ended by thrusting stones 
 and bundles of grass in tree crotches, they were 
 not deceived. These were but blinds: the really 
 potent magic was on the ground 
 
 Then the procession returned to the village. 
 Shimbo hobbling, and muttering, a little in advance. 
 There was no need for words. The crops were 
 safe from theft, for every human being knew that 
 the effect of Shimbo s magic was to bring on any 
 one who touched it at night a sort of madness so 
 that he would cry out loudly and so be caught. 
 Shimbo sank back to his place in the sun with a 
 groan. This was hard work. 
 
 But he was not left long in peace. A strongly 
 
WHITE MAGIC 45 
 
 built middle-aged man with an evil face planted 
 his spear and sat close to whisper his desires. 
 He had an enemy, in another village he went on 
 at length detailing his grievances and the harm 
 he had suffered 
 
 Shimbo cut him short. This was serious busi 
 ness, the business of a muoiin who deals in black 
 magic; not of a mere mundu mue who knows only 
 white magic. It must be paid. Ensued bar 
 gaining at the satisfactory conclusion of which 
 Shimbo went into executive session with himself. 
 
 "Your enemy has come to visit this village to 
 day?" he demanded. 
 
 "Of course, Muoiin" said the man. "That 
 I knew to be necessary." 
 
 For the second time Shimbo arose and followed 
 his client to a sandy spot outside the village. The 
 man led him to a little pile of leafy boughs laid 
 on the ground. These being removed, disclosed 
 the print of a foot. Shimbo spat carefully in this 
 print, took up the wetted sand and wrapped it in 
 a bit of skin. 
 
 "Now the hyena," he commanded. "Is it 
 far?" 
 
46 SIMBA 
 
 "Very near, Muoiin" replied the man respect 
 fully. 
 
 He guided Shimbo to the edge of a thicket where 
 lay the body of a hyena freshly poisoned for this 
 very purpose. Shimbo fumbled in his robe, drew 
 forth a tiny ceremonial knife, muttered a charm, 
 and then proceeded to cut off the beast s nose. 
 Thereupon, followed by his client, he returned to 
 his office. 
 
 His next procedure was to empty his kettle and 
 replenish it with a small quantity of fresh, but 
 magic, water from a gourd. Into this he put the 
 sand from the footprint, the hyena s nose, the 
 dung of an ox, and a dozen sorts of dried herbs. 
 Muttering spells, he stirred this mixture until the 
 water had boiled away. The residue he wrapped 
 in a leaf which the client accepted. When the 
 magic had quite dried to a powder, he would 
 blow it from the palm of his hand toward his 
 enemy. The enemy was thereupon done for. 
 Doubt? None whatever. Shimbo knew that 
 the chances of something happening to that enemy 
 were pretty strong. And if the common accidents 
 of life passed by, nevertheless that victim was 
 
WHITE MAGIC 47 
 
 sure to be Informed that magic was out against 
 him. Such is the power of mind over body among 
 savages that he would quite likely give up and die 
 anyway. His alternative was to get an antidote of 
 Shimbo at a price. And if anything went wrong. 
 Shimbo had at least five pre-arranged counter- 
 accusations as to faulty procedure by the man 
 who used the magic. As black magic comes high, 
 and Shimbo s motto was "cash in advance/ he 
 felt well satisfied with the transaction. 
 
 All this took time. By now a dozen clients 
 were waiting. Their requests were of every de 
 gree of importance. Thus one man from an out 
 lying settlement wished to obtain from Shimbo 
 the power of curing the bite of poisonous snakes. 
 Since this constituted delegated authority, 
 Shimbo insisted on a good fat fee; and in addition 
 a royalty on cures, although lacking the civilized 
 convenience of auditors, Shimbo knew that his 
 chances of accurate accounting were slim. The 
 witch doctor then proceeded to slit the end of the 
 applicant s tongue, and to rub into the cut certain 
 powders. Thereafter whenever this gifted person 
 spat upon a snake, that serpent would immediately 
 
48 SIMBA 
 
 go into convulsions, writhe about, and bite itself to 
 death. And if he were to spit upon a snake bitten 
 person, that person would immediately get well. 
 
 Besides those important professional matters 
 there were many people desiring charms for one 
 purpose or another; and advice on the more tick 
 lish occult aspects of everyday life. Shimbo was 
 a very rushed, harried, important, fussy, and some 
 what cross old gentleman. As soon as each client 
 was disposed of he walked out the rear of the little 
 enclosure to find himself before the larger huts in 
 which dwelt Shimbo s wives. These estimable 
 old ladies, basking in the sun, were only too ready 
 for a gossip. They were very voluble, mainly 
 about the important and busy life led by their 
 distinguished husband. A very free translation 
 of their remarks would perhaps sound familiar. 
 
 "You have no idea, my dear, of the demands 
 on that poor man! I give you my word he never 
 knows whether he s eaten or not; and I often say 
 to Mary that if he doesn t take a rest before long, 
 he ll suffer a complete breakdown. But he feels 
 that he should not consider himself. He feels it 
 a public duty. I don t know what this com- 
 
WHITE MAGIC 49 
 
 muiiity would do without him. I think we should 
 all feel deeply grateful that we have a man of his 
 gifts with us, and that he is willing to devote him 
 self to our welfare. But he is overdoing." 
 
 II 
 
 Tms lively and well-paid traffic suffered an 
 interruption about three o clock in the afternoon. 
 A half-dozen grave savages filed into the com 
 pound and squatted before the witch-doctor. One 
 of them carried a richly ornamented stool on the 
 end of a thong, which was an indication of rank. 
 In fact, he was Mukeku, headman of the village. 
 His companions were also men of consequence, 
 among them M Kuni, the father of Simba. Shimbo 
 glanced up at them half malevolently, made no 
 greeting, and continued to mutter spells over his 
 little fire. 
 
 "O Muoiin," said Mukeku, after formal greet 
 ing. "Our young men are prepared and waiting. 
 They have been ready for some days. The 
 mazungu (white men) approach with their war 
 riors. It is necessary that all our warriors should 
 be ready. We have come to know the day. 
 
50 SIMBA 
 
 Here at hand are all things necessary. The small 
 huts of ceremony are built; the great hut of cere 
 mony, the nzaiko, is built. The headdresses of 
 bird skins are prepared. The youth have gone 
 painted the right number of days. At hand are 
 cattle, goats, honey, for the feast. All is ready. 
 Nothing lacks but yourself, O Muoiin. Name 
 the time." 
 
 Shimbo muttered and stirred the fire without 
 for the present making any direct reply. He was 
 none too-well-pleased. This was public duty 
 unpaid. He knew his power: he could quite 
 well send these people away. They stood in awe 
 of him. But eventually the job must be done. 
 He spread out ashes, made mysterious patterns 
 with the end of a stick, pretended to consult them. 
 
 "The omens are right for two days hence," 
 he croaked ungraciously, and buried his nose in 
 his robe. 
 
 Ill 
 
 AMONG the youths ready for the initiation 
 ceremonies wasSimba, son of M Kuni, a young man 
 of perhaps eighteen years. His preparation had 
 
WHITE MAGIC 51 
 
 begun two weeks previously. In company with 
 his fellow candidates he had haunted the stream 
 beds, the dongas, the bits of forest, where small 
 birds were most abundant. At these he had shot 
 painstakingly with blunt-headed arrows until he 
 had accumulated enough of the skins to make 
 himself a headdress. They were skinned cylindri- 
 cally, and hung to a fillet, so that they dangled 
 about his neck with very much the appearance of 
 old-fashioned corkscrew curls. Then he assumed 
 a plain, unornamented black robe of goat skins, and 
 stalked mysteriously about in the brush outside 
 the village compound, religiously observing in 
 numerable prohibitions and inhibitions, eschewing 
 ostentatiously all his fellow beings, and feeling 
 for the first time in his life of decided importance. 
 He slept in a hut set apart for the candidates, and 
 he ate only certain prescribed food of limited 
 quantity. 
 
 This, as has been said, had been going on for 
 two weeks. All had been ready for the last ten 
 days. Simba and his companions were getting 
 decidedly overtrained. 
 
 True to his promise, however, old Shimbo, 
 
52 SIMBA 
 
 dressed and painted as devilishly as his vivid 
 imagination and long experience would allow, 
 came for the initiates on the morning agreed. In 
 his hand he held a number of miniature bows and 
 arrows, mere children s toys, which he distributed. 
 Then, bent over and slightly crow-hopping, he 
 led his hopefuls down to the dry stream bed below 
 the village. Here the sun was at its hottest and 
 the rocks, radiating like furnaces, were aswarm 
 with reptile life. Simba tried again and again 
 with the awkward, silly little weapon, but at length 
 succeeded in transfixing his quarry, a specimen 
 of that peculiar lizard called telembo by his people. 
 With this impaled on the slender tiny arrow, he 
 joined the group around old Shimbo. When every 
 candidate had his lizard, the procession returned 
 to the village, each holding his arrow aloft. They 
 marched in single file, very solemn, and the 
 people stood by and clapped their hands in 
 rhythm. As they approached the nzaiko hut they 
 showed the lizards to the elders, assembled in a 
 group, then threw them with the arrows on the 
 thatched roof and passed within. Shimbo stood 
 in the doorway, an awesome figure. 
 
WHITE MAGIC 53 
 
 "By the magic of this day," he announced in a 
 solemn voice, "always shall you shoot straight at 
 your game and at your enemies." 
 
 With that he left them and scuttled back to 
 his private practice, which he felt had been sadly 
 interrupted. Simba and his friends sat in the 
 semi-darkness of the hut in a silence that lasted 
 all day and all night. 
 
 The following morning Shimbo reappeared and 
 led them again outside the village walls. On a 
 side hill a half mile distant a small herd of cattle 
 could be discovered guarded by a dozen men. 
 Toward these the candidates made their way, 
 worming from one bit of corn to the other, trying 
 by every savage device to remain invisible. When 
 within fifty or eighty yards one of the Elders, 
 stationed on a rock, pretended for the first time 
 to become aware of their approach. 
 
 "Look out! The Masai attack!" he cried. 
 
 Immediately the youths leaped to their feet, 
 hurling clouds of earth at the herdsmen, running 
 here and there, trying to surround the cattle. 
 The herdsmen replied with missiles of solanum 
 fruit collected in heaps for the occasion. As the 
 
54 SIMBA 
 
 attacking party were strictly limited to the afore 
 said clods, it will be seen that the weight of 
 artillery was with the defence. In fact, a solanum 
 fruit would not yield much in effectiveness to a 
 baseball. The embryo warriors were well pelted. 
 Simba caught one in the side of the head that 
 nearly knocked him out and raised a bump as 
 big as itself. Another shrewdly aimed took him 
 in the ribs. A third numbed his arm. Neverthe 
 less, he gave no sign of pain, but pressed on shout 
 ing, for he knew that the group of old men there 
 yonder were watching closely. 
 
 Indeed, after the attack was finished and the 
 candidates, panting from their exertions and con 
 siderably the worse for wear, stood before them, 
 old Shimbo, muttering and wagging his head, 
 danced forward and touched Maongo on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Wea!" he declared, and the Elders repeated 
 after him, "Weal" 
 
 By this word, which means "coward," they 
 indicated that their sharp eyes had seen Maongo 
 shrink, even ever so slightly, from one of the 
 blows. And Maongo, almost weeping, was forced 
 
WHITE MAGIC 55 
 
 to fall out from the ranks that straightway 
 returned to the nzaiko hut. He had failed, and 
 must either await another initiation time or 
 what was more likely buy his way to a second 
 chance. 
 
 After another afternoon and night of silence the 
 third day found them in a row by the Council 
 Tree, facing a grave concourse. Shimbo squatted 
 in the foreground. Before him lay a number of 
 sticks of a certain tree, perhaps three feet long and 
 three inches in diameter. He called Simba out 
 from the group to stand before him. With the 
 point of his knife he rapidly cut certain con 
 ventional figures in the back of one of the sticks, 
 a sort of riddle in picture writing as it were. He 
 handed it to Simba. The boy examined it closely 
 for some time in silence. 
 
 "The half circle is the rising sun," he then said, 
 "the crooked line is a path or a great snake," 
 he added doubtfully, "and the other mark is an 
 arrow." He went on guessing at the significance 
 of the hieroglyphic-like marks. All listened 
 attentively. At the last Simba correlated his 
 interpretations into a sort of simple message or 
 
56 S I M B A 
 
 story. It came out pretty well, without too many 
 marks left unexplained, and with a fair coherence 
 of its own. Therefore Simba was considered to 
 have passed this test, even though his ideas 
 might not accurately follow Shimbo s intention. 
 
 Some of the others were not so lucky. But since 
 brains are scarcer than courage, therefore here was 
 greater leniency. The candidate who failed was 
 not eliminated. T ^ad his father was ridiculed 
 by ill those pi *orced at once to 
 
 pay a fin %/; nee drunk by 
 
 the elder, to the stupid 
 
 youth was r gulations. 
 
 So the du i its appropriate 
 
 ceremony o * times the young 
 
 *nen sat in tl hut and said not 
 
 one word to anybo^ iid the rite of 
 
 the mumho tree vv^c and the rite 
 
 of the black gr ; rite of the 
 
 kula kilwa p^ .1 Mhi dances of the 
 
 young \ ^pic, an j .uy others too numerous to 
 mention. At the end came the grand rfgoma in 
 which the entire village took part; a dance thut 
 lasted all one night; an affair of great fires and 
 
WHITE MAGIC 57 
 
 throbbing drums. When it was all over Simba 
 and his comrades emerged full-fledged warriors, 
 which meant that their front teeth had been 
 chipped down to fine points, that they possessed 
 grown-up war spears and gaudily painted hide 
 shields, and that they were privileged to buy as 
 many wives as they could afford. As for Shimbo, 
 he was all in. 
 
 IV 
 
 v> 
 
 WITHIN two days thereafter ca^e messengers 
 from Leyeye, the paramount chief of all the tribes. 
 These were haughty and arrogant creatures who 
 would have nothing to do with any but the vil 
 lage heads. The purport of their communication 
 was soon known, however. The white men, having , 
 subdued the Wakamba, were on the way. Leyeye 
 was sending out a summons tr.^.ll his .warn^s. 
 The message was transmitted through Mukeku, 
 the head man. 
 
 The inflammable African temperament caught 
 fire. Instantly the orderly life of the village broke 
 into ten thousand kaleidoscopic pieces. Men pro 
 duced items of equipment and proceeded sedu- 
 
58 SIMBA 
 
 lously to put them in order. Women bustled 
 about packing provisions and the simple outfit. 
 Children stood wide-eyed, ran on errands, shrieked 
 when trodden on. Old Shimbo, on the verge of 
 breakdown from overwork, made spells indus 
 triously, and cudgelled his imagination for new 
 effects in personal adornment that would lay over 
 anything any other witch-doctor might spring. 
 
 By dawn of the following day the battalion 
 moved, sixty odd strong. It was a wonderful 
 sight, what with the glitter of the spears, the shine 
 of the oiled bronze bodies, the nod of black 
 ostrich plumes, the magnificence of armlet, necklet, 
 and belt, the ambers and blacks and whites of the 
 oval shields, the gleam of eyeballs in fierce, grave 
 countenances. For they knew of the white man s 
 power and his guns that killed at a distance, like 
 the thunder. The situation was serious. Every 
 man and youth was perfectly aware of the chances 
 against him. Nevertheless, he would charge 
 blithely at command. It has become fashionable 
 of late to speak of the "cowardly native." There 
 are few people so tempered that, naked, armed 
 only with spears, they would charge again and 
 
.WHITE MAGIC 59 
 
 again in spite of losses against protected rifle fire 
 as has the African. Each carried, besides his 
 weapons, only a light covering, and a little dried 
 food. Old Shimbo, remarkably spry for one so 
 aged, marched ahead. He was painted in new 
 and startling patterns, his face was a grinning 
 mask, he was hung all over with charms, he 
 carried a rattle that constantly he agitated, and he 
 had mounted a pair of cow s horns on his fore 
 head, which gave him a thrillingly devilish appear 
 ance. 
 
 Across the open veldt they took their way in 
 single file. They walked down the long slope, 
 across the bottom, up the long slope again, as over 
 low, broad billows of the sea. The wild animals 
 with which the plains swarmed hardly stepped 
 aside to permit of their passing the zebra, the 
 gazelles, the brindled wildebeeste, the little grass 
 antelope, and the hartebeeste. From the top of 
 each billow they looked across the broad shallow 
 cup to the top of another. Far in the distance, 
 above the atmosphere of the heat haze, they 
 could see the pearly snow crest of Kilimanjaro 
 apparently floating detached in mid-air like a 
 
6o SIMBA 
 
 soap bubble. Other mountains pierced over the 
 edge of the world. A clean, strong wind was 
 blowing; and the sun poured like a brimming 
 flood; birds wheeled, uttering wild cries. 
 
 Thus they marched steadily for half a day, all 
 alone in the world save for the beasts and birds. 
 Then far to the left they saw black ant-like 
 specks toiling up the slope. Their path and that 
 of the strangers slowly converged. It became 
 evident that this was another war party bound 
 for the same destination as themselves. And to 
 the right they saw more warriors, and beyond 
 them a fourth band. As they proceeded these 
 companions became more numerous, until toward 
 sundown the veldt seemed full of them, all moving 
 slowly toward a common centre, the point desig 
 nated by the messengers of Leyeye. 
 
 The rendezvous was at the edge of the low 
 plateau overlooking an immense plain. The 
 women of the near-by villages had been busy for 
 days erecting shelters of wattle daubed with mud. 
 This, within a few hours, dried to the appear 
 ance of stone, lending a strange illusion of per 
 manence to temporary habitations. Hundreds and 
 
 
WHITE MAGIC 61 
 
 hundreds of these huts they had built, and cords 
 of firewood collected a tremendous physical 
 labour. And now under the autocratic command 
 of Leyeye long files of them were converging from 
 all points bent double under loads of food. It 
 was a notable gathering. 
 
 The company with which Simba marched ar 
 rived about dusk. The little fires were beginning 
 to gleam, and the reflections shone red from a 
 forest of spears planted upright in the ground. 
 
 To CONFERENCE on the following day came 
 Colonel Falkeyne, in command of the British 
 Expedition, together with his staff, his escort, and 
 his scouts. Among the latter was a man named 
 Culbertson, on whose judgment and knowledge of 
 the country and the peoples Colonel Falkeyne 
 placed great reliance. When the little force came 
 in sight of the immense encampment and the 
 forest of spears twinkling in the sun, the officer 
 whistled in half dismay. 
 
 "But this is an army, Culbertson!" he cried. 
 "I d no idea they mustered so many!" 
 
62 SIMBA 
 
 "They would muster a good many more than 
 that, were they all here," replied Culbertson 
 carelessly. "I told you this was a powerful 
 people." 
 
 " Are they fighters?" 
 
 "Listen," said Culbertson, "some seven or 
 eight years ago this particular section of the 
 country was afflicted with a combination of 
 drought and cattle disease. The situation was 
 really serious. Famine and the resultant pestilence 
 would in six months have carried off half the 
 people. But these people would not wait for that. 
 They gathered their warriors much as they are 
 gathered now and divided them into two bands. 
 They chose up just as boys choose up at a 
 game. Then they went out to a flat plain below 
 the Nairobi River. The women and the remaining 
 cattle occupied an adjacent hill, swarms of them, 
 like flies on a tent ridge. In the flat below the 
 warriors faced each other in two long parallel 
 lines. At a signal, given by Leyeye, they set to it 
 with spear and shield. They fought desperately 
 until Leyeye, who watched from a near-by knoll, 
 gave them a signal to stop. Then they stopped 
 
WHITE MAGIC 63 
 
 immediately. The survivors took the women and 
 cattle. Thus the numbers were sufficiently re 
 duced so that famine was averted." 
 
 "By Jove! that was sporting," cried the officer. 
 "Are you certain it happened? Sounds like a 
 native tale." 
 
 "I saw it," replied Culbertson simply. "It was 
 exactly as I describe. I visited the place two 
 years later. The bones were a good deal scattered 
 by hyenas, of course, but I could see a rough 
 double line marked by the white skulls." 
 
 "Didn t they care for the dead?" 
 
 "Not in this case. They pulled up and moved 
 out, and have never been back since. But they ll 
 fight!" 
 
 "Looks like a serious job," said Colonel Fal- 
 keyne gravely. "Are we safe here with this little 
 force?" 
 
 "Reasonably. I know a protected place for 
 camp near water; and we must get hostages for good 
 conduct. Old Ley eye and his Elders are all right, 
 but there s a lot of inflammable material here." 
 
 Accordingly they pitched their camp on a high, 
 narrow, rocky point extending out into the river. 
 
64 SIMBA 
 
 About a third of the distance down the cliff a 
 trickle of water oozed. The situation was ideal 
 for defense as it could be approached only on a 
 narrow front and from one side. Tents were 
 erected, sentinels posted. The quiet little en 
 campment was in marked contrast to the savage 
 gathering of thousands over the way. There 
 hundreds of fires gleamed, drums roared or beat 
 in syncopated rhythm, silhouetted figures flashed 
 back and forth before the blazes, shrill chants rose 
 and died. The little group of officers smoking 
 silently before the largest tent gazed across at this 
 turmoil of activities rather anxiously. Between 
 them and the distant fires the black figures of 
 sentinels paced slowly back and forth. 
 
 The nearer stillness was broken by the moan of 
 a hyena. After an interval it was twice repeated. 
 
 "Cheeky beggar!" commented one of the 
 younger officers. 
 
 But Culbertson had raised his head and was 
 listening. From the same quarter now came the 
 quickly repeated call of the fever owl. 
 
 "Cazi Moto!" summoned Culbertson. 
 
 A small, black, wizened native dressed in ragged 
 
WHITE MAGIC 65 
 
 garments glided to his side. With him Culbert- 
 0:1 conversed for a moment in low tones. Then 
 Hie native disappeared into the darkness. Cul- 
 bertson lighted another pipe and settled himself 
 to wait. After an interval Cazi Moto reappeared 
 to whisper something in his master s ear. Cul- 
 bertson nodded and arose. 
 
 "Colonel Falkeyne, may I have a word with 
 you?" he requested. 
 
 He led the way to the cliff s edge beyond the 
 camp. There in the darkness of a great rock the 
 officer became aware of a mysterious figure 
 standing. 
 
 The dim light of the campfires and the stars 
 showed it to be a man of immense height. Colonel 
 Falkeyne was himself but just under six feet, 
 yet the stranger stood well above him. He was 
 wrapped closely in a dark robe of tanned goat skins 
 and apparently was denuded of all ornament. 
 In his mien was a great dignity. 
 
 "This," said Culbertson in a guarded voice, 
 "is Ley eye himself. He has come incognito for 
 a private conference. It must not be known that 
 he has been here." 
 
66 SIMBA 
 
 "But the sentinels I" cried Falkeyne. 
 
 Culbertson said a few words in a strange 
 language. The tall figure chuckled and unex 
 pectedly spoke in Swahili. 
 
 "I came by your sentinel as one passes a blind 
 man," he said, "and I shall depart in the same 
 manner." He turned to Culbertson, "Kingozi, 
 let us go where we can talk in peace." 
 
 Culbertson, or Kingozi to call him by his native 
 name, considered. 
 
 "We cannot do better than my tent," he de 
 cided, "Cazi Moto shall hold all people at a 
 distance." 
 
 The candle lantern in the tent disclosed the 
 visitor as an old man, a fact that would never have 
 been suspected from the erectness of his carriage. 
 His face was seamed with many lines of craft and 
 wisdom, deep carven lines, and his eyes were 
 tired. He seated himself with dignity and threw 
 aside his robe to reveal his bronze body with the 
 loosened skin of the aged. When he spoke Fal 
 keyne had again occasion to remark the husky rich 
 timbre of his voice. 
 
 "It is not the custom of Leyeye to run about at 
 
WHITE MAGIC 67 
 
 night," he began, "like a common slave. When 
 he travels his spears are as the leaves of the grass 
 about him; and when he pays visits the drums are 
 as lions and the trumpets like the birds that wheel 
 and cry." 
 
 " Ley eye is always a great sultani, whether he 
 comes alone or attended," interjected Kingozi. 
 
 The old man listened attentively, then shifted 
 his eyes to Colonel Falkeyne. 
 
 "It is believing that this man is also a great 
 sultani that I have come to-night. I am glad I 
 have come," he said. He half turned on his seat, 
 and at once the interview became a dialogue be 
 tween high potentates, with Kingozi only an 
 interested spectator. 
 
 "My people are a mighty people," he said. 
 "My young men are trained to war. Other 
 nations raise crops of m wembe and other things; 
 other nations trade back and forth; other nations 
 live by hunting game. That is well. But when 
 they have harvested their m wembe and made 
 their trades and killed their game, then my young 
 men come with their bright spears, and all 
 these things are ours. \Ve know but two 
 
68 SIMBA 
 
 things: we keep herds, we make war." He 
 turned back to Culbertson. "Do you, Kingozi 
 my brother, tell him in your tongue that what I 
 say is true." 
 
 "He refers to the strength of his military caste," 
 said Culbertson in English. "It comprises prac 
 tically every male between about eighteen and 
 thirty. They have a certain knowledge of tactics 
 and drill. There s no doubt they re more for 
 midable than other nations." 
 
 "What do you suppose the old chap s driving 
 at swank?" asked the Colonel. 
 
 " I don t think so. Give him his head." 
 
 Leyeye, seeing that the short colloquy was over, 
 resumed his talk. 
 
 "My people are afraid of nothing," he went on. 
 " They hunt the lion and they kill him with spears. 
 They are not afraid of war. They are not afraid 
 to die. They are not afraid of you nor of your 
 guns that kill like thunder." The old man s form 
 had straightened and his eyes flashed. Receiving 
 no comment on this challenge, he went on more 
 calmly: "If I were to command them, they 
 would walk up to your guns to be killed one by 
 
WHITE MAGIC 69 
 
 jne, and the last man of all would go as gladly as 
 the first. Unless you understand this, it is useless 
 to talk more." 
 
 "I know the courage of your people," said 
 Falkeyne simply. 
 
 Leyeye stared him in the eyes for some moments. 
 
 "Since that is so," he resumed abruptly. "I 
 can say freely what is in my heart. I have 
 watched the war with the Wakamba. It was a 
 good war. They killed many of your young men: 
 and you killed many of theirs. The Wakamba 
 fight well. But this one thing I have noticed in 
 that war: when a Wakamba was killed he was 
 dead; but when one of your young men was killed 
 two more came to take his place. And therefore 
 I say to you, as one sultani to another sidtani, that 
 if we make war we shall kill very many, more than 
 even the Wakamba did, for we are a better nation 
 than the Wakamba: but also you will kill my 
 young men. Why should we fight? We desire 
 pasture for cattle, wide plains on which to roam: 
 you wish only a road. Does one of these desires 
 stand in the way of the other? Why should no* 
 each have his wish?" 
 
70 SIMBA 
 
 "But the man is a statesman!" cried Falkeyne 
 to Culbertson. 
 
 At the end of another half hour Leyeye arose to 
 depart. 
 
 "It is then understood. To-morrow you must 
 rest. The next day we will hold shauri" He 
 offered Falkeyne the native sign of friendship, 
 first a grasp with the palm, then a grasp of the 
 thumb. 
 
 " Cannot I give you escort? " offered Falkeyne. 
 
 Leyeye s austere countenance slightly relaxed. 
 
 "My people must never know of this visit," he 
 said. "I must again pass your sentinel and 
 mine, which is more difficult." He said three 
 words to Culbertson in the strange language, and 
 the tent flaps fell behind him. 
 
 "Old chap wants a private conversation with 
 your permission," murmured Culbertson, and 
 followed. 
 
 At the edge of the cliff he overtook the tall 
 figure of Leyeye. 
 
 "My brother, Kingozi," said the latter, "my 
 heart is glad that this bwana is a great leader and 
 is willing to make peace without fighting. That 
 
WHITE MAGIC 71 
 
 is best for all peoples. But now comes the difficult 
 part. My young men are hot and eager for war. 
 My mind is troubled to control them." 
 
 "You suspect that your command will not be 
 sufficient?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 The old ruler drew himself up. 
 
 "My command would be sufficient, as always," 
 he replied proudly. "There would be no war. 
 But my young men s hearts will still be hot in 
 their breasts. They will hover about, and one 
 day they will kill white men, and then it will be 
 
 war." 
 
 "What is your plan?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 "The witch-doctors of all the villages must give 
 the omens for peace." 
 
 "Will they not do so?" 
 
 "They will do so if I command them and pay 
 them!" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Here is the trouble. The most powerful 
 witch-doctor of all, the man with most magic 
 and knowledge, the man to whose door the track 
 is worn deepest by the people, lives in the smallest 
 village. This man secretly hates me and will 
 
72 SIMBA 
 
 oppose anything but war. His voice will hearten 
 those who will make private raid and foray." 
 
 "Why does he hate you, O sultani?" 
 
 "Because he lives in the smallest village," 
 replied Leyeye neatly, "and I placed him there. " 
 
 "I shall not ask the history of this: the thing 
 is clear. And I?" 
 
 "You I would have come to my camps, and act 
 between me and this man in the manner that 
 seems best to you." 
 
 "Do I know him?" 
 
 "You know my people, you know the hearts 
 of men, Kingozi. What I, the sultani , could not 
 say to this witch-doctor, you can say well." 
 
 "What words do I say to him?" 
 
 "That is for you to decide." 
 
 "If I were to offer him the post of witch-doctor 
 at your own manyatta?" Kingozi suggested. 
 
 "That could be arranged." 
 
 "But the man who is at present witch-doctor: 
 would he not make trouble, use his magic against 
 you?" 
 
 "That could be arranged," repeated Leyeye. 
 "And, Kingozi, is it not just that the white man 
 
WHITE MAGIC 73 
 
 should pay the price of these things, if war is 
 avoided?" 
 
 "It is just, Leyeye," cried Kingozi heartily, 
 "and I shall see that it is done, but see you for 
 your part that not too much is paid!" he warned. 
 
 "Would I strengthen unduly the enemies of my 
 house?" demanded Leyeye bitterly as he gathered 
 his dark robe about him. 
 
 "Colonel Falkeyne," said Culbertson reenter- 
 ing the tent, "I have unequivocally committed 
 you to certain payments which we will call a 
 treaty indemnity for entering the country with 
 out opposition. And to-night I move over to the 
 native camp. Don t be alarmed if you do not 
 hear from me to-morrow." 
 
 "All right," agreed Falkeyne instantly. "Is 
 it safe?" 
 
 "Perfectly," replied Culbertson, but he knew it 
 was not safe. 
 
 VI 
 
 SHIMBO the witch-doctor sat before the highly 
 ornamented hut he had caused the warriors of his 
 village to erect for him. In this great gathering 
 
74 SIMBA 
 
 were witch-doctors from many villages and the 
 cities of Leyeye s kingdom; and Shimbo was 
 resolved that, even though he came from one of 
 the smallest outpost hamlets, he should not show 
 to disadvantage. He sat humped over a little 
 fire. This great gathering revived old memories 
 and rubbed old sores. His mind cast back many 
 years to the time when, a young priest, in an im 
 portant post near the throne, his pride had induced 
 him to put himself against the rising power of 
 Leyeye. He had been broken badly, and sent to 
 the little village where for thirty years he had 
 lived in comparative obscurity. Becoming aware 
 of a presence he looked up to see a white man 
 standing before him. 
 
 He recognized the white man perfectly as one 
 who had eight years ago come to the village from 
 the interior, and who had picturesquely paid his 
 honga or entrance tax with the skin of a lion that 
 had attacked the royal tax collector. The visitor, 
 undeterred by Shimbo s cold greeting, at once 
 sat down. 
 
 "Jambo, O Shimbo, greatest of muoims" he 
 said. "Your fame has sounded in my ears for a 
 
WHITE MAGIC 75 
 
 long time past; and now I have come to greet 
 you in person." 
 
 Shimbo s red eyes shifted, but he made no 
 answer. The white man motioned to his wizened, 
 wrinkled servant who stood near. The latter 
 handed his master a cup and a canteen. 
 
 Kingozi filled the cup with water. He passed 
 his hand slowly across the surface, and lo! the 
 clear liquid turned a dee^> pink, as always happens 
 to water when permanganate crystals are dropped 
 therein. 
 
 "Hah!" ejaculated Shimbo in surprise. 
 
 "Would you learn that magic?" suggested 
 Kingozi. "I will teach you." 
 
 "N gapi how much?" grunted Shimbo, who 
 should know the ways of magicians. 
 
 "It is nothing a gift of friendship," declaimed 
 the white man. "This is yours for the asking 
 a great magic. And also twenty fat cows, and a 
 piebald bull, and six cases of the white man s 
 tobacco, and enough brass wire to have paid an 
 old-time honga" 
 
 Shimbo s eyes glistened. This was great wealth. 
 
 "N gapi" he repeated, however. 
 
76 SIMBA 
 
 "It is known," said Kingozi, "that you are 
 the greatest of all muoiins. The wisdom of all 
 the others is as the light of the stars to the light 
 of the sun. When one of these others raises his 
 voice men listen and then inquire whether what 
 they hear is wise and true. When Shimbo speaks 
 men say at once, this is the truth, this is the best 
 thing to do." 
 
 "What is it you want?" insisted Shimbo, who 
 was too old and experienced for illusions. 
 
 "Peace," said Kingozi, repeating the sultan? s 
 argument. "The white man desires a road; your 
 people want pasture. One does not interfere 
 with the other." 
 
 Shimbo lost interest. 
 
 "Peace is in the hands of Leyeye," he an 
 swered. 
 
 "Leyeye wants peace." 
 
 "Let him then declare it," grunted Shimbo. 
 
 "His people want war." 
 
 "It is for Leyeye to control his people, not for 
 
 me." 
 
 "If the muoiins make magic, and that magic is 
 for peace, and they tell the people that all omens 
 
WHITE MAGIC 77 
 
 are for peace, then the commands of Leyeye are 
 made easy." 
 
 "Let the muoiins make magic, and see what it 
 declares." 
 
 "Twenty fat cows, a piebald bull, six cases of 
 m zungu tobacco, brass wire to cover a war spear, 
 and the magic of turning water to blood," com 
 mented Kingozi, "and the magic Shimbo makes 
 and tells to the other muoiins will be the magic 
 that is told to the people." 
 
 For the first time Shimbo showed real anima 
 tion. 
 
 "Who is Shimbo?" he demanded passionately. 
 "An old man near to die! He lives in a village 
 far in the thorn wilderness! His voice reaches 
 few. He has neither wealth nor honour! His hut 
 is humble, his wives are few, his slaves are none! 
 Why should such a man be listened to? He is 
 not one who speaks to the people. When magic 
 is publicly announced such as Shimbo must sit 
 silent and listen. It is Munei, the chief of all 
 witch-doctors, who dwells at the manyatta of 
 Leyeye, whose riches are as the game of the plains 
 and whose slaves are as the leaves of grass." 
 
78 SIMBA 
 
 "When the omens of peace are announced/ 5 
 said Kingozi, playing his trump card, "it shall be 
 Shimbo, not Munei, who shall announce them. 
 He shall then be chief of all witch-doctors; and he 
 Shall dwell in the manyatta of Ley eye." 
 
 "The wind blows through the branches/ said 
 Shimbo after a pause. 
 
 "Did you ever know a white man to lie?" 
 "These are your words: are they also the words 
 of Ley eye?" 
 
 "Ley eye himself shall say them to you." 
 Shortly after midnight Kingozi arose rather 
 stiffly. At last the deal was completed. Shimbo 
 had agreed. The old man required much con 
 vincing before he would believe in the sincerity of 
 the offer. When realization came to him, and 
 he understood his importance in the situation, he 
 proceeded to drive his bargain. But at length 
 Kingozi was able to go to his rest assured that the 
 invisible gods were going to be properly manipu 
 lated. He did not dare return to the white man s 
 camp, nor show himself here too prominently. 
 Therefore, under the guidance of Cazi Moto, he 
 entered one of the better native shelters. As he 
 
WHITE MAGIC 79 
 
 had often been in like case before he slept very 
 soundly until morning. 
 
 He was awakened by the sound of distant 
 bugles, and looked forth in time to see the flag 
 rising over the distant camp. The native war 
 riors were already astir; and as Kingozi looked 
 about at the thousands of determined fierce 
 countenances, at the forests of spears planted 
 upright in the ground, he congratulated himself 
 that the necessity of pressing through by force 
 was passing. 
 
 At the proper hour he took his way to the col 
 lection of larger shelters where Leyeye and his 
 court were encamped. A light palisade sur 
 rounded them. Gorgeously panoplied warriors 
 leaned against this. From within came the 
 sounds of women s laughter. Kingozi entered 
 the gateway. 
 
 The first person of consequence he encountered 
 was old Shimbo himself. And he was now of con 
 siderable consequence. He wore a new and 
 heavily embroidered tanned robe, and was at 
 tended by four slaves. In his hand he carried 
 the carved staff of his new high office. 
 
8o S I M B A 
 
 " Jambo, Chief of all muoiins!" said Kingozi. 
 
 "Jambo, bwana" returned Shimbo with great 
 dignity. He seemed about to pass, then turned 
 back. "The magic of blood, the cattle, the 
 tobacco, the wire they are not forgotten? " 
 
 "They are not forgotten/ Kingozi assured 
 him. " And you have made magic this morning? " 
 
 "Yes, Iwana." 
 
 "It was good magic." 
 
 "It was magic for peace between the white man 
 and my people," replied Shimbo. 
 
 Kingozi s interview with Ley eye was equally 
 satisfactory. The sultani had revealed one quali 
 fication of leadership, promptitude. The witch 
 doctors had all been "seen." Leyeye presented 
 a bill of expenses to arouse the envy of a Tammany 
 leader in the days of Tweed. Kingozi listened 
 with faint dismay, but reflected that after all 
 this was cheaper than war would have been. 
 When at last he arose to depart all things were 
 planned and arranged. There remained only the 
 trifling detail of informing the people. 
 
 "I see that Shimbo has already the part of 
 muoiin here," remarked Kingozi casually. "How 
 
WHITE MAGIC 81 
 
 did you arrange matters with Munei, the former 
 head mouiin? 
 
 Leyeye looked him blandly in the eye. 
 
 "It was too bad: Munei had the bad luck to 
 die suddenly in the night/ he replied. 
 
 VII 
 
 FOR the various reasons thus fully set forth it 
 happened that Shimbo did not return to the 
 village; that Simba, newly made warrior, never 
 theless made no war; that to this day there has 
 been no war between the English and Ley eye s 
 people; that the latter still continue to think 
 themselves free and unsubdued. Since thus the 
 office of witch-doctor was open in Shimbo s 
 village, it followed naturally that Mukeku took 
 on the job. This left his office of headman vacant. 
 M Kuni, the father of Simba, being the wealthiest 
 and most prominent of the elders, succeeded as 
 headman. Then Simba became the son of a 
 chief instead of merely one among many warriors. 
 For a time that had little bearing on anything 
 but Simba s immediate comfort and happiness: 
 but the time came as will be shown in another 
 
82 SIMBA 
 
 story when the fact caused him to be chosen for 
 foreign duty. And thence many consequences. 
 
 All of which is the same the world over. Great 
 causes producing also the by-product of little 
 results: obscure causes arriving eventually at 
 great consequences. Nations moving for appar 
 ently the sole purpose of modifying the life- 
 fate of some insignificant individual; a witch 
 doctor of a native hamlet deciding the fate of 
 races. That is Politics. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 TRELAWNEY LEARNS 
 
 ^BOUT two years after the government 
 occupation of a certain part of Africa it 
 was considered desirable to extend the 
 sphere of influence to include a remotely out 
 lying district that had heretofore been let severely 
 alone. This district was edged by the mountain 
 forests, faced by the foothills, and remote from 
 the high veldt a pleasant land full of waters and 
 green grass. Also full of savages. 
 
 The latter were said to be related to the Samburu 
 and to be badly disposed. Since it was impossible 
 to keep ivory hunters and Somali caravans from 
 the north from passing through on the most 
 obvious route, the next best thing was to attempt 
 some sort of administration. 
 
 The higher powers were at their wits ends. The 
 tribe, and their affiliated brethren, numbered, at 
 a guess, something like a million and a half 
 
 83 
 
84 SIMBA 
 
 people; and they had any amount of accustomed 
 cover in which to hide. 
 
 "Military occupation!" groaned the D. C., 
 quoting his instructions from Downing Street, "I 
 wish our respected Chief knew the first thing 
 about this country! It would take a solid regi 
 ment to occupy that district! And I have two 
 battalions of native troops for the whole blessed 
 country!" 
 
 "They are native troops but they are the K. 
 A. R.," the Governor reminded him. 
 
 " Oh, the fuzzy-wuzzies are all right," admitted 
 the Commissioner, "but they are too few. I 
 can t go to war with what I can spare from two 
 battalions, and that s flat." 
 
 "Well?" queried the Governor placidly. He 
 knew his commissioner. 
 
 "And the Civil Officers! Fresh from Downing 
 Street! Know the native as a friend and brother 
 only! Full of theory! Conscientious scruples 
 against corporal punishment, by gad! Or 
 throat-full with twaddle about the white man s 
 prestige! Self-opinionated, narrow, insular, hide 
 bound " 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 85 
 
 "Best of our blood: wonderful boys; governing 
 kingdoms at five and twenty," interrupted the 
 Governor, still placidly. 
 
 "With a little experience, yes, I agree," said 
 the D. C., "but these boys have none, none 
 whatever. They get it fast; but in the meantime, 
 what? It s all very well to let them cut their 
 teeth on such peoples as the Kikuyus, but how 
 about the Masai or these Sukas? To handle such 
 a touchy situation needs a man of experience, or 
 a regiment of troops: and where am I to get 
 either? Better let sleeping dogs lie, say I. Let 
 em get on as they have been getting on." 
 
 "And some day some confounded German or 
 Austrian or Belgian will get scuppered up there, 
 and we ll have intervention and lose the shop," 
 said the Governor. 
 
 The D. C. sat bolt upright, his hands grasping 
 strongly the arms of his chair, his eyes staring out 
 of the window. 
 
 "Boy!" he called smartly; then to the white- 
 clad servant who instantly responded he issued 
 a rapid order. "I caught a glimpse of just our 
 man," he explained to the Governor, "I am 
 
86 SIMBA 
 
 stupid not to have thought of him before. He is 
 an ivory hunter named Culbertson." 
 
 "The man the natives call Kingozi?" 
 
 "The same. He has been in this part of the 
 country now about ten years: came in when they 
 paid honga. He knows natives from A to Zed, 
 and they like him. If he ll only take on the 
 job " 
 
 The door opened to admit the ivory hunter, 
 He was a man of about thirty, broad of shoulder s 
 a trifle stooped, with wide-spaced gray-blue eyes 
 a square forehead, a bushy black beard, and crisp, 
 waving, upstanding hair. 
 
 "Sit down/ the D. C. invited him, and pro 
 ceeded to detail his troubles. 
 
 "The Suka," commented the ivory hunter, 
 "that s the crowd that lives up near old Saunder s 
 hunting country, isn t it? " 
 
 "They seem to be getting restless," said the 
 D. C. 
 
 Kingozi grinned. 
 
 "Quite likely. That s the lot that fool Gregory 
 and his two assistant fools went and shot up so 
 extensively, isn t it?" 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 87 
 
 "What was that?" interrupted the Governor. 
 
 "Happened four years ago," explained the D. C. 
 with a slight embarrassment. "Before we took 
 over. These people were new to the country and 
 went up there hunting. They became frightened 
 over some of the usual nigger foolishness, and 
 started shooting and fighting their way out. 
 Wrote a book about it quite exciting." 
 
 "Oh, that yes." 
 
 "Silly rot," commented Kingozi, "Great heroes! 
 Fought a rear-guard action. Potted em at three 
 hundred when they showed their faces. Kept 
 their heads they d have had no trouble at all. 
 Sukas wonder yet what it was all about. But, 
 as you say, they are restless!" 
 
 "Well, we ve got to make that country safe; 
 and we want you to take on the job," said the 
 D. C. bluntly. 
 
 "Who, me? Not!" said Kingozi. "I m no 
 officer of the government and never will be as 
 long as you get your marching orders from some 
 old granny in Downing Street who thinks that all 
 Africa is a dense jungle full of fevers and monkeys. 
 Me, I boss myself." 
 
88 S I M B A 
 
 But the Governor had not been made governor 
 merely because he took a good photograph. He 
 interposed and talked British Empire until Kingozi 
 wilted. 
 
 "If I take on the job, do I do it my way?" he 
 asked abruptly. 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Absolute free hand?" 
 
 "It is yours." 
 
 "Well, I ll tell you what I ll do. I won t 
 consider an official position. None of your oaths 
 and salaries for me. But I will go. You pick 
 out a nice, chubby, red-cheeked, bah- Jove young 
 ster, fresh from England, and give him the job. 
 I ll go along and coach him. When I get through 
 if we have any luck we ll have those Sukas 
 nicely tamed; and we ll have an educated District 
 Commissioner to keep up the good work. And I 
 can quit and go about my business." 
 
 "Excellent!" cried the Governor and the D. C. 
 in a breath. 
 
 "But I want it understood that I spank this 
 youth and make him stand in a corner if he doesn t 
 obey orders!" warned Kingozi. "I don t want 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 89 
 
 any back talk, or questioning of methods, or his 
 own initiative, or any of that rot. And no atten 
 tion paid to his reports if he has the nerve to 
 make them. I know the festive native, and I ll 
 handle him my own way or not at all. Under 
 stood?" 
 
 "Understood," 
 
 "Very well. Pick out your youngster. And 
 the more he is for God and Old England, Britons 
 never shall be slaves, no gentleman would ever 
 think of it, and all the rest of that, the better it 
 will suit. I want him to play golf; and dress for 
 dinner; and perish for his tea; and be unwilling 
 to pot a meal off sitting guineas because it isn t 
 sporting; and to perish miserably if he hasn t got 
 on the right sort of breeches when he shoots kon- 
 goni; and if it isn t done, you know, that settles 
 it. Got such a specimen?" 
 
 The Governor and his D. C. laughed. 
 
 "Imported for the purpose. Young Tre- 
 lawney will just fill your bill." 
 
 "Trelawney," repeated the ivory hunter, 
 "Christian name isn t Percy?" he inquired hope 
 fully. 
 
90 SIMBA 
 
 II 
 
 THE Government of the Empire moved up into 
 the Suka country the following week. It con 
 sisted practically of three detachments, although 
 they were much intermingled. There was one 
 consisting of a wizened little black native dressed 
 in faded khaki and lugging a worn double rifle; 
 two porters carrying a brace of officers battered 
 tin boxes; two more with a decidedly second 
 hand green tent; and a miscellaneous half dozen 
 bearing queer old bundles apparently on their 
 way to a rummage sale. Then another, larger 
 group, swinging proudly along beneath an elabo 
 rate new outfit four-men tent, eight tin boxes, 
 three loads of ammunition, a patent bath, much 
 new yellow leather. Also two men with three 
 new guns. The third detachment was the foun 
 dation of the other two, and transported food 
 both white and native. Six straight, soldierly 
 Sudanese, carrying their well-polished old Snider 
 muskets at a military angle, marched in the, rear. 
 Six was all he required, so Kingozi said. 
 
 Kingozi had retired behind an impenetrable 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 91 
 
 reserve and a short black pipe that burned peri 
 lously close to his beard. But his eyes moved 
 observantly from one item to another. They 
 rested with apparently a deep and amused satis 
 faction on two things: one was a bag of golf clubs; 
 the other was their owner. 
 
 Trelawney was a red-cheeked, clear-eyed 
 youth, with the smallest imaginable moustache; 
 very young but concealing the fact well; com 
 pletely equipped with ideas but incoherent in their 
 expression; secretly aquiver with an enthusiasm 
 it would have killed him of mortification to have 
 acknowledged. He had brought his entire out 
 fit from Piccadilly and the Haymarket, and as a 
 consequence greatly resembled advertisements. 
 Withal, as Kingozi had discovered, at heart a 
 modest and diffident youth beneath all his upper- 
 class assurance, so Kingozi s heart warmed to him. 
 
 The boy was naturally vastly excited. He was 
 going direct from the sheltered life of his island 
 not only into Africa, but into a part of Africa so 
 remote that heretofore it had been visited and 
 that but rarely by professional ivory hunters 
 only! He was going into the great game country 
 
92 S I M B A 
 
 where one lived by one s rifle and where rhinoceros 
 and giraffe and lion were matters of everyday! 
 He was venturing among heretofore untamed 
 savages, charged with the mission at his age 
 of governing a kingdom! And best of all he was 
 going in the company of the celebrated Culbert- 
 son, the best-known hunter in Africa; Culbertson 
 who had gone right across the continent with no 
 resources but his wits and his weapons; Culbert 
 son who had shot more elephants than he, Trelaw- 
 ney, ever hoped to see; Culbertson, who in the 
 distance had loomed across the imagination like a 
 legend, and whose inscrutability at close range 
 had only added to his attraction! No wonder 
 Trelawney had to look rather extraordinarily 
 bored to conceal his feelings. 
 
 Every small, accustomed detail of safari life was 
 wonderful the making and breaking of camp, 
 the method of march, the discipline, the peoples 
 passed on the road, the wide, wild vast scenery, 
 the birds, the monkeys, the "things that jump 
 up as you pass," and especially the game herds. 
 Never had Trelawney seen so many wild animals; 
 never had he dreamed that so many existed. He 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 93 
 
 tried to identify them with his. confused book 
 recollections; his finger itched for the trigger; his 
 hunter s soul strained at the leash. But he did 
 not know whether it was done, you know; so he 
 inhibited that desire also, and trudged on long 
 ingly. 
 
 The celebrated ivory hunter seemed a taciturn 
 sort. He smoked his black pipe, and slouched 
 along, and apparently saw nothing. It was three 
 hours before he spoke at all, and then only to 
 proffer a most extraordinary question. He re 
 moved his pipe from his mouth and asked abruptly: 
 
 "Is your given name Percy? " 
 
 "Why, no. Did you know of a Trelawney by 
 the name of Percy? Mine is Allan." 
 
 "Sorry," said this extraordinary man with an 
 air of regret. And now what could he mean by 
 that? 
 
 The journey consumed three weeks. By the 
 end of that time Trelawney had begun an in 
 cursion into the Swahili language; he had shot 
 considerable game for camp; he had unconsciously 
 absorbed a few ideas; and he had begun to consider 
 himself quite an old-timer. But he had not got 
 
94 SIMBA 
 
 much further with his companion. Kingozi 
 seemed entirely sufficient to himself . He was not 
 unfriendly quite to the contrary but he ap 
 peared absorbed in an inner life. At times he 
 carried on long talks with the wizened black man 
 whom Trelawney learned to call Cazi Moto, but 
 in Swahili. Culbertson s idea of human inter 
 course seemed to be the sociable silence. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THEY arrived and selected a location for a post 
 and at once started the hundred-odd porters they 
 had brought with them to building. The location 
 was a wide opening of a hundred acres or so at the 
 fringe of the forest. It looked out through a 
 panelling of scattered trees far abroad over the 
 veldt. A stream of clear water ran through it; 
 and the grass at this elevation was green. 
 
 Under Cazi Moto s supervision and Kingozi s 
 inspection the porters built first of all a tremen 
 dous circular house with a high, conical roof. 
 The frame was of poles, the walls of papyrus stalks, 
 and the roof thatch of grass. It had three win 
 dows, without glass, but capable of being closed by 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 95 
 
 white cotton cloth; and a wide door. The camp 
 cots were arranged on one side; a table was built 
 for the other, together with canvas chairs; shelves 
 were fastened to the wall. A lamp and its at 
 tendant tin of precious paraffin oil were installed. 
 
 Opposite these administrative quarters were five 
 well-built smaller huts. In two rlwelt the askaris, 
 as the Sudanese troops were called. The others 
 were given to Cazi Moto, theJwo gunbearers, the 
 two personal boys, and the cdok. In the centre of 
 the square thus formed was erected a peeled flag 
 pole with halliards, and when everything was 
 completed Kingozi caused a parade of all the men. 
 They stood in lines, while the flag was bent on. 
 And then as it fluttered aloft, the askaris fired a 
 fine, resounding, smoky black-powder salute with 
 their Sniders. Trelawney, very erect, stood fin 
 gers to helmet, his mind singing with high thoughts 
 as to the extension of the empire, outposts of 
 civilization and the like, and he offered up a little 
 prayer though he would not have so considered 
 it that he might be worthy. 
 
 And after all these things were done, the 
 hundred-odd porters shouldered their meagre 
 
96 SIMBA 
 
 effects, and the forest closed behind them. The 
 two white men with their dozen attendants were 
 alone among millions of savages. Trelawney 
 was horrified to discover in himself the least 
 tremor of regret as the last of that sturdy file 
 disappeared. 
 
 "There s a lot of work could be done here/ he 
 suggested. "Those chaps could be very useful. 
 "There s a horde of other men hereabouts," 
 said Kingozi. 
 
 "But will they work for us?" 
 
 "That s the very first thing we must get them 
 to do," said Kingozi. 
 
 Up to this time Kingozi had paid no attention 
 whatever to the inhabitants. The latter had 
 hovered, had ventured cautiously into the out 
 skirts of the clearing, had even opened conver 
 sations with some of the men. None had ap 
 proached the white men, and no women nor 
 children had appeared. But when the safari men 
 had been safely dispatched, Kingozi removed his 
 short black pipe long enough to ask: 
 
 "Well, time to get in touch with these people. 
 What are you going to do now?" 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 97 
 
 Trelawney stared at him with dismayed amaze 
 ment. Both the Governor and the D. C. had 
 been very explicit as to the status. The ivory 
 hunter was to have actual charge; he, Trelawney, 
 was to be merely the figurehead, but at the same 
 time was to learn as much as he could. 
 
 "But that is just what I am going to ask you!" 
 he cried. 
 
 Kingozi shook his head. 
 
 "You re in charge here; and you re responsible," 
 said he. 
 
 "But I suppose " cried Trelawney; then he 
 
 threw back his head. "Very well," he said 
 curtly. "But this is all new to me." 
 
 Kingozi laid his hand on the young fellow s 
 knee. 
 
 "That s the spirit," he said kindly. "Do your 
 duty: and I ll try to see you don t go far wrong. 
 What first?" 
 
 "Well," said Trelawney doubtfully, "I suppose 
 we d better go direct to headquarters. I think I 
 shall summon the King to an interview." 
 
 "Should not you go to see him?" 
 
 "Should I?" 
 
98 SIMBA 
 
 "I m not suggesting; Fm asking your opinion." 
 
 "In that case," Trelawney mused "hang it 
 
 all! I m so new at this! Well, I should say 
 
 it would impress him more to come and see 
 
 me." 
 
 "No question of that. But if he sends an 
 official instead?" 
 
 Trelawney s idea was developing. 
 
 "No others need apply. I d have Cazi Moto 
 give him a present and send him back." 
 
 "And if the King refused to come?" 
 
 "I don t know," replied Trelawney frankly. 
 "But I think he would. If he didn t I suppose I 
 could think of some scheme to see the old bounder: 
 or else I d refuse to do anything but play with 
 my own dolls for awhile or something." 
 
 "And if that annoyed him and he sent over to 
 have us speared?" 
 
 "I suppose that s the chance we are taking, 
 isn t it?" asked Trelawney simply. 
 
 They smoked for a time. 
 
 "Am I right?" asked the young man at 
 last 
 
 "Try it and see," replied Kingozi. 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 99 
 
 IV 
 
 THE King was summoned; he sent his Prime 
 Minister, who was politely received by Cazi Moto, 
 denied a sight of the Bwana M Kubwa, given a 
 drink of sweetened coffee, enriched with a small 
 present, and returned right side up with care. 
 He carried with him, also by instructions, that 
 one of the white men was no less a personage 
 than the celebrated Bwana Kingozi, Fighter of 
 Elephants; but that Bwana Kingozi was like the 
 visitor, a satellite to the real lord who was Bwana 
 Marefu. Marefu was the name already bestowed 
 on Trelawney by the natives. And by this 
 measure of values could be guessed the importance 
 of Bwana Marefu. 
 
 For the reason that his curiosity was thus 
 strongly aroused the King made his visit. It was 
 a tremendous occasion with elements of throngs 
 of gorgeous spearmen, numerous young women 
 decked in cowries, files of slaves bearing gifts of 
 firewood and milk, the beating of drums, clash 
 of weapons, blowing of horns, and such a riot of 
 savage noise and colour that Trelawney was 
 
ioo SIMBA 
 
 thrilled with the barbaric romance of it. He 
 fortunately knew what to do because he remem 
 bered Culbertson s incidentally mentioning the 
 procedure in the course of some anecdote. And 
 Kingozi, sitting by, saw that his ingeniously 
 planted instructions had been remembered. 
 
 Trelawney, with great dignity, touched the 
 gifts, indicating acceptance; he shook hands 
 with the thumb grasp of friendship; he then 
 entered into high converse through Kingozi and 
 Cazi Mo to with his majesty. He felt rather an 
 ass, sitting in his canvas chair acting as though 
 he were the whole thing while old Culbertson, 
 older, wiser, greater, more experienced in every 
 way, stood back of his chair like a servant! He 
 flushed, wondering if Culbertson thought him a 
 cocky little bounder. Then he caught sight of 
 the flag above him, and into his heart came as 
 surance. He was not merely Trelawney: he was 
 the Empire. 
 
 He had given considerable thought to his 
 opening speech with M Booley, which was briefly 
 to the effect that he had been sent by the King of 
 the Inglishe to bring justice and happiness to 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 101 
 
 this remote corner of his realm; that he relied upon 
 M Booley as a loyal subject to obey; that back of 
 him was the might of Britain; and he trusted 
 they would live together as brothers. To this 
 Kingozi, who was to act as interpreter, listened 
 with attention. Then he spoke to M Booley in 
 Swahili as follows: 
 
 "This Bwana M Kubwa has come to rule you. 
 He commands you bring him food and firewood. 
 He tells you to remember the War against the 
 Wakamba. He says to issue orders among your 
 peoples that wars and spearings must cease. He 
 promises you that he will allow no white man and 
 no Somali to steal from the people. He says 
 that the people must bring their quarrels to him 
 and he will judge them. He says that he comes as 
 a friend, but that in case of necessity he can 
 strike heavily." 
 
 M Booley glanced around him. 
 
 "These are big words, papa," he commented, 
 "and a light runga* with which to strike heavily." 
 
 " They are true words," replied Kingozi haughtily, 
 "and the runga is too heavy to carry here unless 
 
102 SIMBA 
 
 there is need for it. Remember the wisdom of 
 Ley eye who made peace without war." 
 
 M Booley glanced around him, and rose. 
 
 "Tell the Bwana M Kubwa qua heri," he said 
 enigmatically. 
 
 "He says he is gratified to say good-bye," 
 Kingozi told the boy. 
 
 "How did he take my talk?" asked Trelaw- 
 ney. 
 
 "I think he was quite impressed," replied 
 Kingozi gravely. 
 
 Immediately they sent presents of considerable 
 value, and sat down to await results. Kingozi had 
 the place cleared of natives and kept clear. 
 Guards were stationed at night, and either Cazi 
 Moto or his master was constantly afoot. In the 
 mysterious night-ridden forest drums throbbed. 
 An uninterrupted wailing chant rose. All about 
 the tiny clearing its dwellers felt the unseen 
 presence of thousands. Yet not a single human 
 being showed himself. Then on the evening of 
 the third day a single wrinkled old hag crept into 
 the open and approached the spot where the two 
 white men were sitting. She knelt humbly before 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 103 
 
 them and fumbling beneath her goat-skin robe she 
 produced a little half-gourd containing a few 
 ounces of m wembe meal. 
 
 "Take, bwana" she said. 
 
 Kingozi drew a deep breath of relief. 
 
 "It is to be peace," he said. 
 
 FOR a month nothing much happened. Tre- 
 lawney began to get impatient at the slowness 
 with which affairs moved. The white men 
 seemed to be tolerated but not accepted. In their 
 own little circle they were supreme, but outside of 
 it moved a swarming life whose meaning was 
 concealed from them. The native women brought 
 in food and firewood for which they were paid in 
 beads. Men lounged about curiously, or squatted 
 by the hour. If, on the other hand, Trelawney 
 cared to visit any of the villages he could do so, 
 wandering as he pleased among the huts, unmo 
 lested but unwelcome. 
 
 "I don t see what we are accomplishing here," 
 he said impatiently to Kingozi. "We are suffered 
 to^ administer justice and establish the pax Bri- 
 
104 SIMBA 
 
 tannica, but they could all cut their throats out 
 there, and we none the wiser." 
 
 "What do you want to do?" inquired Kingozi. 
 "I don t know. But I feel useless." 
 "They are getting accustomed to us; that s 
 enough. In the meantime, you re getting some 
 shooting; you re getting quite a bit of Swahili: 
 and I suppose you re learning at least a little 
 something. What?" 
 
 "There are ten different tribes in this mess, and 
 that s all I know. They have chiefs, or kings, or 
 sultans of their own, but not one has come in, 
 and I wouldn t know where to find them. I 
 feel helpless. I wish I had some hold on them." 
 "Like hostages in war time." 
 "Precisely. But we re not at war." 
 " Some scheme to make being a hostage a desir 
 able thing." 
 
 "Might feed and pay a few select ones." 
 "Perhaps adding to that a little nigger glory 
 to make the job especially attractive. Of course 
 a real hostage must be of the better class." 
 
 And in half an hour Trelawney was possessed 
 of a fully-developed idea which he was honestly 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 105 
 
 convinced was original with himself. In time 
 it was carried into effect. 
 
 Trelawney organized for the majesty of the 
 British Empire as represented in his person a body 
 guard composed of the eldest sons of each of the 
 sultanis of the Suka nation. These youths were 
 given separate quarters. Never did Trelawney stir 
 abroad without this escort. Each young man was 
 encouraged to panoply himself as elaborately as 
 possible; and emulation was skillfully encouraged 
 by wise old Cazi Moto. Each for the honour of 
 his tribelet got himself up with the utmost in 
 ostrich plume, keen and glittering spear, gaudily 
 painted buffalo hide shield, wealth of jewelery and 
 ornament, and imaginative pictorial treatment of 
 his own cuticle. Probably ten more picturesquely 
 gorgeous savages were never before gathered 
 together in one band. They trailed Trelawney two 
 by two, looking tremendously haughty and aloof, 
 and they were bitterly envied. 
 
 In Trelawney s mind the original idea rapidly 
 developed. He added small details. The body 
 guard paraded solemnly, morning and evening, to 
 raise and lower the flag; and when the flag was 
 
io6 SIMBA 
 
 down they zealously cleared the natives out. 
 Their duties were made light but very showy and 
 important. One of them was the bearing of 
 messages, either to the natives round about, or 
 to the seat of government. In order to distinguish 
 them in the performance of this task Trelawney 
 had them wind a narrow band of red cloth 
 about half way up the spear blade. It was the 
 badge of the messenger; and all the people were 
 instructed to feed him and to otherwise expedite 
 his journey. This and a dozen other similar bits 
 of ostentation Trelawney invented with the secret 
 zest of a small boy. 
 
 "Seems silly," he told Kingozi in half apology, 
 "awful lot of side. But side gets these beggars. 
 And it holds them all together. Any of these 
 tribes is bound to back up its crown prince, now 
 isn t it? " 
 
 But while indubitably this diplomacy was 
 effective in obtaining tolerance for the little 
 community, it accomplished nothing toward closer 
 relations. Again guided by Kingozi s skillful and 
 apparently casual suggestions, Trelawney had 
 formulated his immediate needs as three. The 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 107 
 
 first, that of peaceful relations, was already 
 accomplished. On the second, that of adminis 
 tration of justice, not even a start had been made. 
 The third, that of voluntary labour, was so far in 
 the future as to remain completely below the 
 mental horizon. The only work done anywhere 
 was by the women; and they seemed fully occupied. 
 The whole subject seemed ungraspable, like a 
 smooth ball too large for the hand. Nothing was 
 to be done save await what chance might bring. 
 Trelawney fretted; but Kingozi, knowing his 
 Africa, smoked his little pipe philosophically. 
 
 "Something always turns up in this country/ 
 he said, "it s the only generalization that is worth 
 anything out here." 
 
 Something did turn up. From time past 
 memory of man which in Africa does not mean 
 as long as it sounds the Somalis with horses 
 for sale had travelled across Jubaland to East 
 Africa. This led them through one comer of 
 the Suka country. It was a lower corner in an 
 arid region, not inhabited, so nobody cared. 
 But in the third month of Trelawney s occupancy, 
 owing to a freak rain that turned the arid belt 
 
io8 SIMBA 
 
 into a mire, a Somali caravan swung north. It 
 camped overnight at the edge of the forest. Then 
 it moved on. The following morning, investigating 
 the cause of much drum-banging excitement, Tre- 
 lawney was told eight different tales. They had 
 only one common basis, and that was outrage by 
 Somalis. The outrage varied from simple loot to 
 arson, kidnapping, and rape. 
 
 " Probably stole a dozen chickens," said Kingozi. 
 "But that is not the point. The real point is that 
 this lot is arming to attack those Somalis. What 
 are you going to do about it? " 
 
 "Aren t you going to advise?" 
 
 "No; but I ll tell you this much, that I see 
 here the big opportunity. Think it over five 
 minutes, and I ll go break out a little ammunition 
 for one purpose or another." 
 
 Pondering the last phrase Trelawney came to the 
 proper conclusion with a celerity that would have 
 been impossible to his former insularity. 
 
 He ordered out his gorgeous bodyguard and his 
 six askaris with their Snider muskets. He armed 
 Cazi Moto, the two gunbearers, even the personal 
 boys, and the cook. At the head of this small 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 109 
 
 army he went in search of Kingozi. The latter 
 looked up from his cartridge cases. 
 
 "Going to smash the entire Suka nation?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 "No; but I am going to arrest a small portion 
 of the Somali nation," Trelawney replied. 
 
 "Good boy!" cried Kingozi, "I apologize for 
 the Percy. " 
 
 VI 
 
 THEY debouched from the forest to find M Boo- 
 ley s village a seething turmoil. Armed men were 
 rushing here and there; voluble women were 
 shrieking. Inextricable confusion. But at the 
 appearance of Trelawney s little force the women 
 precipitately disappeared. The men, seizing their 
 shields, followed. The village clearing was empty, 
 but in the edge of the forest weapons glittered and 
 dark bodies glided. In vain Trelawney shouted 
 encouraging words. No voice answered. 
 
 He looked perplexedly at his followers. This was 
 something he had not anticipated. Kingozi was 
 watching him keenly. 
 
 From the ranks of the bodyguard a young 
 
no SIMBA 
 
 man stepped forward. He was a very ugly young 
 man, but something engaging, straightforward, and 
 honest shone from his uncomely face. 
 
 "Bwana would have shauri* with M Booley?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Yes," replied Trelawney. 
 
 Without further speech the young man turned, 
 walked steadily across the opening, and dis 
 appeared in the forest. 
 
 "By Jove!" cried Kingozi, "I didn t suppose 
 any raw native had it in him!" 
 
 "What?" asked Trelawney. 
 
 "Pluck; sheer pluck." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "There s about nine chances out of ten he s 
 speared before he opens his face." 
 
 "Oh, surely not! One of their own people: a 
 chiefs son!" 
 
 "I know natives," said Kingozi curtly. 
 
 A long period of uneasiness during which Kin 
 gozi, his rifle across the crook of his elbow, half 
 turned to keep his eyes on the rest of the ornate 
 bodyguard. At last figures appeared. M Boo- 
 
 *Shauri Council, Talk. 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS in 
 
 ley was discovered accompanied by half a hundred 
 of his warriors and the bold messenger. 
 
 M Booley was sullen and suspicious, but Tre- 
 lawney plunged at once into his subject. 
 
 "O King/ he said, "I go with my men to take 
 these Somali robbers for punishment. From you 
 I need assistance. Select of your bravest men 
 one hundred to come with me; and tell them that 
 they must obey my orders, and mine only." 
 
 At the first sentence M Booley s sullenness van 
 ished. After that the only difficulty was to make 
 selection from the swarms of volunteers. 
 
 But Trelawney was firm. Never did he relin 
 quish the upper hand. When finally the expedi 
 tion was ready there was no doubt that it was the 
 white man s expedition, and the white man s 
 only. 
 
 They followed immediately on the Somali s 
 footsteps, and since the Somalis were in consider 
 able force and are a cheeky lot anyhow, they were 
 soon overtaken. It must be remembered that 
 the caravan thought it had to do with Sukas only. 
 White men and white men s arms were unexpected 
 and disconcerting 
 
SIMBA 
 
 ; By way of a didactic parenthesis, the Somali 
 comes from northeastern Africa; he is chocolate 
 colour; his features are as regular and clean cut 
 as those of a Greek God; he wears a gorgeous gold- 
 embroidered turban, a long gown, and an orna 
 mental over vest. His manners are courtly; he 
 rides like a Cossack; he has never been subdued; 
 he is contemptuous of fear; he is thoroughly un 
 reliable; and his opinion of himself is only equalled 
 by his contempt of everybody else. Altogether 
 he is the handsomest, most splendid, independent, 
 rascally barbarian in the world. And his pride is 
 as the pride of Lucifer. 
 
 Trelawney entered into his campaign with the 
 zest of a small boy playing soldier. He selected 
 a narrow defile for his ambush, managed to com 
 press the ebullient undiscipline of his troops to 
 watchful waiting, with his own kiboko thrashed 
 soundly a number of too eager spirits; and at the 
 proper moment hopped out so suddenly and unan 
 imously that the twenty-odd Somalis were 
 dragged from their horses before they could fire 
 a shot. This was not to the discredit of Somali 
 alertness. As has been pointed out, they thought 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 113 
 
 they had to do with natives only; and they knew 
 that natives were incapable of a daylight surprise 
 attack. Someone would surely give the show away. 
 
 And then you are to imagine the howling, ex 
 travagant joy of that return: the Sukas dancing 
 wildly; the askaris very rigid and dignified; the 
 ornate guard doing its best to imitate them. And 
 then the women, the men who had been left be 
 hind, a horde of children running out to meet 
 them; the sudden production of the long, narrow 
 dance shields; the roaring of drums; the synco 
 pated snatches of rhythm from a dozen impromptu 
 n gomas; the sullen captives in their turbans and 
 long robes; and Trelawney proud as proud, but 
 outwardly bored almost to extinction, riding a 
 captured horse at the head of it all. 
 
 He led the way directly to the government clear 
 ing known as the Boma. Therein preparation 
 for such an occasion he had long since caused to 
 be built a big corral facing a small shed with three 
 walls. In the shed had been placed a rough table 
 and two chairs. Straightway he marched to 
 this throne and, standing, he brought his kiboko 
 smartly down on the table. 
 
H4 SIMBA 
 
 "AngaKa!" he commanded attention; then 
 with a flicker of the eye in Kingozi s direction he 
 announced gravely in English, "Oyez! Oyez! 
 Court is opened!" 
 
 VII 
 
 ALL that was necessary was to question wit 
 nesses, find out what crime had been committed, 
 give judgment, and enforce punishment. That 
 was all. 
 
 At the end of four solid hours of close question 
 ing Trelawney, his brain reeling, turned to his 
 amused and silent companion. 
 
 "I can t make head or tail of it! 7 he cried. 
 " Can you?" 
 
 "Don t try," replied Kingozi. " Don t go too 
 much into particulars. Just make up your mind 
 in a broad general way. Guilty or not guilty?" 
 
 "Of what?" asked Trelawney despairingly. 
 
 "Oh, of raising hell." 
 
 "Guilty, then by all means guilty!" 
 
 "Punishment?" 
 
 "I suppose kiboko" 
 
 Kingozi leaned forward. 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 115 
 
 "I don t often advise," he said, "but you don t 
 know Somalis. You can t flog them. It does 
 no good, and sooner or later they ll have a knife 
 in you." 
 
 Trelawney arose and again struck on the table 
 with his whip. He now talked Swahili with fair 
 fluency, so made his address direct. 
 
 "Listen," he said. "This is my judgment. 
 These men have acted as enemies, and so now 
 they are prisoners of war. It is my power to keep 
 them prisoner or have them killed. That I shall 
 not do. It is my will that they be given each one 
 horse, and one gun for all of them that they may 
 get meat, and water bottles; and all their other 
 horses and guns and property are mine; and that 
 my young men take them to the Guaso iNarok 
 and turn their faces to their own country. And 
 when they come to their own country they must 
 give this message to their own people: that here 
 is now the White Man s Law and the White Man s 
 Peace. Those who come by this way must come 
 quietly." He paused then spoke over the heads 
 of the prisoners to the multitude: "The White 
 Man s Law is here," he repeated. "And each 
 
n6 SIMBA 
 
 morning at the third hour* I shall be here at this 
 place. And those who wish justice shall come 
 here. I have spoken. Bassi!" 
 
 He struck the table again with the kiboko and 
 turned negligently away as though further pro 
 ceedings interested him not at all. But Cazi 
 Moto and the troops, obeying an undertone from 
 Kingozi, rushed zealously forward. 
 
 "Bassi! Bassi! Bassi!" they repeated, 
 thrusting and hurrying the people forth. 
 
 In a few minutes the place was cleared. Only 
 remained the prisoners and the white men s 
 escort. Trelawney covered a sudden embarrass 
 ment behind a cigarette. 
 
 "Fearful lot of side, of course," he muttered as 
 though in apology. "Feel like a bally ass actin 
 up like a little tin king. Thought it might buck 
 up the beggars " 
 
 But Kingozi cut him short. 
 
 "You couldn t have done better," he said. 
 
 Trelawney flushed with a genuine pleasure. 
 
 Kingozi at once shifted the subject. 
 
 "Where s the sportsman who carried the mes- 
 
 *9 o clock. 
 
TRELAWNEY LEARNS 117 
 
 sage to M Booley?" he demanded. "Oh, there 
 you are. N jo!" 
 
 The ugly but attractive young savage stepped 
 from the ranks of the bodyguard. 
 
 "The Bwana M Kubwa wishes to thank you," 
 said Kingozi. 
 
 "Assanti, bwana" 
 
 "What you did was good. Did you not know 
 that these people would think you an enemy and 
 kill you?" 
 
 "That thought came to me, Vwana" 
 
 "Were you not afraid?" 
 
 "A long time ago, bwana, it happened that you 
 yourself cut from a dead lion a piece of fat, and 
 with it you touched my forehead and my heart, 
 and you said these words: The lion, simba, 
 is bravest among beasts. Remember that this 
 magic will make it possible for you to be the 
 bravest among your companions J ; and so it comes 
 that I feel no fear." 
 
 Kingozi s brow knit, then cleared. 
 
 "You were then a child," he said, "I remember. 
 You stood before the lion with your spear. Your 
 name is Simba." 
 
n8 SIMBA 
 
 "Simba, bwana" 
 
 "Bassi!" said Kingozi, and the young man 
 stepped back. 
 
 "That chap will be worth watching, 7 he told 
 Trelawney. "He s unusual. Well, your court 
 is opened." 
 
 "If only they ll bring me their complaints!" 
 
 " Bringyou their complaints ! You ll be swamped 
 with them. No, you can rest easy on that score." 
 
 "Only remains to get them to work," said Tre 
 lawney. "That promises to be the most difficult 
 of all. What couldn t a man do with labour here ! 
 
 "What, for example?" 
 
 "Why," replied Trelawney dreamily, stretch 
 ing his hand over the immediate foreground. 
 "Just think, with a hundred men and a little irri 
 gation and a flock of sheep, what a wonderful 
 eighteen holes a man could put in there!" 
 
 Kingozi laughed aloud. 
 
 "You certainly do please me!" he cried. 
 
 "Are you keen on golf?" asked Trelawney, sur 
 prised, "I didn t know it!" 
 
 "Never played in my life ; " replied Kingozi, 
 gazing with delight on his companion s puzzled face. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 TRUE SPORTSMEN 
 
 A YEAR and three months had passed since 
 young Trelawney had taken charge of the 
 Suka country. He had during that time 
 dwelt quite alone with the veteran ivory hunter, 
 Culbertson, alias Kingozi, whom the government 
 in its wisdom had sent in to show Trelawney the 
 ropes. Kingozi had, as far as Trelawney could 
 determine, done little more than listen sympathet 
 ically from behind an extraordinarily short black 
 pipe. But though he did not appreciate that fact, 
 Kingozi s indirect suggestions had shaped his 
 policy. Which amused Kingozi and satisfied him. 
 
 In black night his boy scratched on the door of 
 the little hut, uttering low voiced his desire for 
 entrance : 
 
 "Hodie!" 
 
 And Trelawney, immediately wide awake, gave 
 
 the required answer: 
 
 1 19 
 
120 SIMBA 
 
 "Karibu!" 
 
 The boy glided in with a lantern. He carried 
 a tray with two cups of tea and some thin biscuit. 
 By sun-up Trelawney and his friend, dressed in 
 clean white, were ready to see that the flag in the 
 boma \vas raised with proper ceremony. The 
 six Sudanese askaris presented arms, the ornate 
 and savage bodyguard of spearmen, formed 
 for diplomatic reasons of the eldest sons of chiefs, 
 stood rigid. Trelawney saluted. 
 
 Breakfast finished, Trelawney spent some time 
 at his desk, after which he repaired to a sort of 
 shed enclosed on three sides only, and surrounded 
 by a stockade. Here, as in a canopied throne, he 
 sat down with Kingozi seated at his right hand, and 
 the little wizened black headman standing at his 
 left. The enclosure was always full of natives, 
 squatting and attentive, their spears thrust in the 
 ground standing like a bright forest just outside 
 the gate. The white men tolerated no arms 
 within the enclosure. 
 
 Trelawney struck the table sharply with his 
 kiboko. At once an elderly man stood up from 
 among the multitude. 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 121 
 
 "Who are you?" asked Trelawney. 
 
 "O Bwana M Kubwa, I am Nyanga, and I am 
 headman of the village beyond the Hill." 
 
 What is your complaint, O Nyanga?" 
 
 "Bwana, it happens that our people have 
 cattle, and that each day they feed here and there 
 on the Hill. But the people of the next village 
 are bad; and they have secretly killed our cattle or 
 stolen them; and our cattle are becoming less." 
 
 "How do you know this?" 
 
 " It is a thing well known." 
 
 "What is your wish?" 
 
 The old man s form straightened. 
 
 "My young men are many and brave. I wish 
 to make war." 
 
 Trelawney s eyes snapped. 
 
 "That is forbidden; but if it is as you say then 
 justice shall be done. Is anyone here present 
 from this next village? No? Then here is my 
 judgment: on the third day from this let Nyanga 
 and the headman of this other village both appear 
 before me. Simba!" 
 
 A young man stepped forward from the ranks 
 of the bodyguard. A headdress of ostrich plumes 
 
122 SIMBA 
 
 completely encircling his face added to the height 
 and ferocity of his appearance. His supple, beau 
 tiful body was almost unclothed and shone red 
 bronze in the sun. He wore glittering armlets of 
 brass, a broad bead belt into which had been thrust 
 the heavy rungaor war club, and he carried lightly 
 a vividly painted oval shield and the long-bladed 
 war spear. The point of this latter he lowered 
 until it almost touched Trelawney s breast. The 
 white man fitted over it a narrow band of red 
 cloth, the badge of the messenger. 
 
 " Go you to these two villages," he commanded, 
 "and tell my commands in the public places. 
 Bassi!" For the second time he rapped the 
 table sharply with his kiboko. The complainant, 
 who had evidently anticipated and probably 
 bragged of immediate annihilation of his ene 
 mies, arose again to his feet. 
 
 "Bassi! Bassi!" cried a score of scandalized 
 voices. He was hustled to his place, and his pro 
 tests smothered. 
 
 Next one of Trelawney s own men reported 
 that meat had been stolen, meat belonging to the 
 bivana himself. Questioned, the informant dis- 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 123 
 
 claimed knowledge of the thief s individual iden 
 tity, but knew that he belonged to a group of 
 huts not far from the boma. Evidence taken. 
 This proving good, Trelawney issued another order 
 to his bodyguard. Shortly the inhabitants of the 
 huts in question filed in looking very scared. 
 Trelawney stared them over for several awful 
 moments. 
 
 "Which of you stole my meat?" he demanded 
 sharply. 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 " Very well; give each one ten lashes." He raised 
 his kiboko for his customary signal. 
 
 "Bwana, bwana /"a half -dozen -agonized voices 
 appealed. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 It now appeared there were two divisions, cor 
 responding to the Indian totem divisions. The 
 kogonis vehemently denied all guilt, and laid the 
 crime on the swarms. The swarras stood sullen. 
 
 "Who among you is guilty?" sternly demanded 
 Trelawney. No answer. 
 
 "Very well. Fifteen lashes for every swarra." 
 
 But this increase of punishment caused another 
 
I2 4 SIMBA 
 
 split. Certain families asserted an innocence that 
 was not denied. Remained at last only the dozen 
 individuals inhabiting one hut. 
 
 "I think we re down to the ones who actually 
 ate the meat," said Trelawney to the other white 
 man. " We ll let it go at that." 
 
 Kingozi chuckled. 
 
 " A man s innocence is assumed until he is 
 proven guilty, " he quoted. 
 
 "Not in Africa," replied Trelawney. "My 
 motto here is punish somebody, the right one if 
 possible, but everybody if necessary. " 
 
 "Perfectly right," replied Kingozi, quite as 
 though he had not himself taught the young man 
 that doctrine. 
 
 By the time the last complaint was adjudicated 
 it was getting on toward noon. 
 
 "Mind taking over sick-call?" he asked Kin 
 gozi. "I hate to bother you, but I am going to 
 try to drum up some labour." 
 
 "I ve nothing on; go with a free mind, my 
 
 son." 
 
 Trelawney disappeared, accompanied by two 
 of his honorary guard. He made his way down a 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 125 
 
 narrow jungle track through the forest. On 
 either side, because of the dense growth, one could 
 not see two rods; but overhead the eye rose 
 through a tangle of rope vines to a canopy a 
 hundred feet above. Only rarely did the sky 
 show through. A cool green atmosphere flooded 
 all space, as one would imagine the light at the 
 bottom of the sea. By every evidence, save that 
 of the well-trodden narrow path, the forest seemed 
 wild and solitary. No sign of human occupancy 
 was visible. Yet Trelawney knew that all about 
 him dwelt thousands. 
 
 From the main track, here and there, side tracks 
 branched. Invariably after ten feet or so they 
 made a sharp turn, so that the sight was arrested. 
 Down one of them Trelawney made his way. After 
 two more twists he came to a wide clearing open 
 ing to the sky. Here stood in irregular groups a 
 score of round huts with the conical grass- thatched 
 roofs typical of this part of Africa. The ground 
 was beaten hard and flat. Against the wattle 
 walls of the houses leaned many women, either 
 engaged in light housework, the polishing of iron 
 or brass jewellery, or nothing at all. They were 
 
126 SIMBA 
 
 unanimously gossiping, however, at the top of their 
 lungs. An extraordinary number of naked children 
 tumbled in the dust or raced here and there. 
 Men squatted in small groups talking, or lay 
 comfortably in the sun. A goat or so wandered 
 confidently about, and extraordinarily diminutive 
 chickens clambered into and over everything 
 seeking what they might devour. Thin blue 
 columns of smoke rose straight up fifty feet then 
 spread to a haze that filled the forest and barred 
 the rays of the sun. A happy, carefree, idle hum 
 warmed Trelawney s heart. Already he was 
 feeling a paternal interest and a secret pride in 
 the irresponsible children beneath his charge. 
 
 For an hour, sitting under a shady tree, he 
 talked with the men of the village who gathered 
 to hear him. It was a friendly talk, with much 
 chatter and laughter. At the end of that time 
 he resumed his journey. By sundown he had 
 thus visited four villages. Then he returned to 
 the boma. 
 
 Entering the big round hut occupied by Cul- 
 bertson and himself as official headquarters, he 
 found Kingozi lying on his cot smoking his small 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 127 
 
 black pipe. He threw himself in his canvas chair 
 and shouted for tea. 
 
 "Any luck?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 "I don t know. I went to four more villages 
 and talked. Got plenty of promises, of course. 
 They don t want to work. Why should they?" 
 
 "SeeoldM Booley?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What had he to say?" 
 
 "He told me to let him know how many men I 
 wanted, and when, and he d send them over." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Don t you see?" said Tielawney desperately. 
 "That wouldn t do me much good. I d get a 
 certain amount of actual labour accomplished; but 
 that isn t what I m driving at entirely. I want 
 to civilize these beggars as far as I can. And 
 industry is the first step toward civilization." 
 
 "True, O Solomon. But you can get your 
 men from M Booley, and I ll see that they are 
 industrious!" 
 
 "That would be nothing more nor less than 
 forced labour." 
 
 "I forget," said Kingozi, "what a frightful 
 
128 SIMBA 
 
 bugaboo you m zungus* think forced labour 
 
 is." 
 
 Trelawney flushed, but held his ground. 
 
 "My belief is that one accomplishes nothing but 
 the physical result with forced labour," he asserted 
 stoutly. 
 
 "Quite so. Here is tea," replied Kingozi with 
 indifference. 
 
 They sipped the tea from the tall, tumbler-like 
 balauris. After a little Trelawney resumed the 
 discussion. 
 
 "I have thought about it a good deal," he said, 
 "and Fve got at the logic of it. These people 
 have too few needs and desires; and these needs and 
 desires are all satisfied too easily. The way to 
 make them work is to make them want something 
 they have to make an effort for luxuries and all 
 that." 
 
 " There s the dukka" suggested Kingozi, referring 
 to the shop recently opened by an East Indian 
 for barter with the Sukas. It stocked such things 
 as brass, copper, and iron wire of different gauges; 
 beads of various sizes and colours; dried paint 
 
 Europeans. 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 129 
 
 colours for the face and body; snuff; bright 
 blankets and cotton cloths; ear ornaments; coarse 
 sugar, rank butter, and the like. "Old Mahrad 
 may safely be said to carry luxuries." 
 
 "True, as far as they go. But the old blighter 
 takes trade. He wants m wembe and sisal and 
 hyrax skins and any of the rest of the products of 
 the country he can get his hands on. And the 
 products of the country are produced by women. 
 Fat lot of good that does in making the men 
 industrious! I ve a good mind to order the old 
 fool to stop barter and take only coin for his 
 goods." 
 
 Kingozi laughed outright. 
 
 "I think it a good idea," he chuckled. "But 
 you must remember that Mahrad knows perfectly 
 well that you are the sole possessor of money 
 here; that you have brought in many strong 
 boxes of rupees; that if the Suka are to get money 
 to pay for his goods, they must get it from you. 
 He will salaam, and his respect for you will go up 
 tremendously; for he and all others with dark 
 skins will perceive that you are in spite of former 
 differences a true Oriental despot, out for the 
 
SIMBA 
 
 make, with the right idea of how to use your 
 power after all, and that this talk of even-handed 
 justice, altruistic disinterestedness. White Man s 
 Peace, and the rest of it was clear poppycock, as 
 they have suspected all along." 
 
 "Damn!" cried Trelawney. 
 
 He cogitated for some time, blowing thoughtful 
 clouds of smoke. Kingozi watched his clean-cut, 
 youthful face with some amusement and con 
 siderable kindly feeling. 
 
 "If the beggars only needed more things!" 
 cried Trelawney at last. " Give them a piece of 
 old ilour sack and their notion of dress is satisfied; 
 and so on! They should have more wants, more 
 desires! I don t believe anybody works unless 
 he has to. Compulsion comes from inside you 
 or outside you one or the other." 
 
 "Philosophy," commented Kingozi. 
 
 Trelawney flushed as though he had been 
 caught in a lie. Abruptly he reverted in manner 
 from the Trelawney of the past year s develop 
 ment to the Trelawney fresh from Downing Street. 
 
 " Rotters," he ended. " S pose I must just keep 
 preachin . Think I ll have a round to freshen up." 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 131 
 
 He knocked the ashes from his pipe, arose, 
 seized a bag of golf clubs, and hurried out. Five 
 minutes later he was at his game. Up to now 
 he had acquired but six holes. They were scienti 
 fically laid out according to the theory of the 
 game, and all they needed was a bit of work 
 in smoothing the fairway, and in constructing 
 the necessary hazards that as yet existed only on 
 paper. The putting greens were fairly good, for 
 on them Trelawney had concentrated his scanty 
 supply of labour. 
 
 Trelawney teed and drove a smashing straight 
 ball, and thereby experienced the appropriate 
 thrill. He made the most of it, for he was per 
 fectly aware that in all probability he had now 
 a bad lie. Then he marched off with his swarm of 
 caddies. Golf balls are scarce in Central Africa, 
 but small boys very plenty. Therefore Trelawney 
 invariably played with four caddies: one to carry 
 the clubs, one straight ahead, one to the right for 
 "slices," and one to the left for "pulls." The 
 club carrier was the only one with any clothes, 
 and he wore only the golf bag. 
 
 Trelawney returned at the end of an hour all 
 
132 SIMBA 
 
 aglow with exercise and a new idea. While splash 
 ing in the scorching hot tub he imparted it to 
 Kingozi through the flimsy walls of papyrus. 
 
 "D ye know that Saturday is the King s 
 Birthday?" he began. 
 
 "The fact had escaped me," replied Kingozi. 
 
 "Nothing like sport to make good feeling. 
 What for an idea to get up a field day by way of 
 celebration? Get in everybody for a big time. 
 Let em run a n goma of their own, of course. 
 Same time have some athletic sports. Some of 
 these Johnnies ought to be able to do something." 
 
 "Sounds interesting." 
 
 "I believe I ll do it," said Trelawney. 
 
 He entered into the idea with enthusiasm. The 
 invitations went out through M Booley. Soon 
 after daylight the guests began to arrive. They 
 teetered down the forest paths in single file, each 
 carrying his lunch in the form of a section of 
 sugar cane, a bunch of bananas, or mysterious 
 packages wrapped in dried leaves. They stared 
 at the boma, and the n goma drums, and sub 
 sided on their hams to await what might befall. 
 They came, and continued coming, tens, hun- 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 133 
 
 dreds, finally thousands. From a very busy life 
 it seemed as though the entire Suka nation had 
 snatched a day to see what the white man was up 
 to now. 
 
 "By Gad! I m glad I decided against furnish 
 ing refreshments!" gasped Trelawney. 
 
 Shortly after seven M Booley, his prime mini 
 ster, three favourites from his harem, and sundry 
 ornate but unexplained individuals appeared with 
 much pomp. They were escorted to a place 
 kept clear in front of the house, and much honour 
 paid them. Said honour consisted in (a) a chair 
 for M Booley; (b) balauris of sweetened coffee for 
 all hands; (c) presents whose splendid appearance 
 far outdid their intrinsic worth. The multitude 
 eyed these proceedings and gave no sign. Then 
 the flag was run up, and the askaris delivered a 
 black-powder volley. Very satisfactory. 
 
 Next Trelawney purposed starting the sports 
 of the day. Two of the boys brought forth a 
 table on which was arranged a tempting array 
 of objects. Trelawney made a speech. He men 
 tioned the King, the prizes, and the hundred-yard 
 dash. The course for the latter was cleared. But 
 
SIMBA; 
 
 no entries! In vain Trelawney explained clearly, 
 holding up the temptation of acquiring one coil of 
 brass wire. He became flustered at this lack of 
 success. 
 
 "Try M Booley," suggested Kingozi. 
 
 Trelawney explained. He wanted the best 
 runners from each of the sub-tribes composing the 
 Suka nation: he 
 
 M Booley interrupted him with a deprecating, 
 upraised hand. 
 
 "Enough, papa," he said. "You shall have 
 them." 
 
 He issued brief orders. Inside of five minutes 
 twenty-six men listened to Trelawney s instruc 
 tions. They stood here: there a short distance 
 away was stretched a cord across the path. The 
 man who broke that cord would be given a coil 
 of brass wire. 
 
 He got no further. The twenty-six were off and 
 away, deaf to imprecations and commands. 
 Trelawney arrived to find the string very definitely 
 broken. At least fourteen of the contestants 
 firmly grasped fragments thereof, and on that 
 possession based vehement claims of victory. 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 135 
 
 It took Trelawney five minutes even to get 
 their excited attention; ten more to straighten out 
 the dispute. He was red faced and perspiring, 
 and on the verge of apoplexy from the holding 
 onto his temper. He thought longingly of his 
 kiboko and the immediate effect thereof, but 
 restrained himself. This was supposed to be a 
 festal occasion. The race was at last run; and 
 successfully. 
 
 They had also jumping, both broad and high, 
 a tug of war, throwing, shooting with bow and 
 arrow, and hurling the spear both for distance and 
 accuracy. Trelawney could not complain of lack 
 of interest among the contestants. The spirit of 
 rivalry followed very close upon the spirit of 
 covetousness aroused by the truly magnificent 
 prizes. It manifested itself in a shameless desire 
 to "hunch," an unruly tendency to get away 
 before the shot, and a fixed determination to 
 dispute every result, no matter how obvious. 
 Trelawney darted here and there. He became 
 hoarse with shouting. His sweat-drenched gar 
 ments clung to his figure. He controlled his temper. 
 
 "They re sporting beggars, anyhow/ he gasped 
 
136 SIMBA 
 
 to Kingozi, who sat in his canvas chair smoking 
 his pipe and watching the show with rather a 
 sardonic eye. "Take hold like good ones. When 
 you reflect that it s the first time they ever went 
 in for games, I call it topping!" 
 
 The active expansion of interest seemed to be 
 confined to the contestants. The thousands sat 
 about on their hams, and stared, and chewed 
 sugar cane, and said nothing. 
 
 By mid-afternoon Trelawney had reached the 
 last number on his program. This was to be a 
 distance race. He explained his plan to Kingozi. 
 
 "I m going to make it about two miles," he 
 said. "Right-away down the track and return. 
 Can t be at both ends of the course at once, so 
 I m going to show them where I put a yam under 
 a bush about a mile out. Then I ll start them 
 here, and the man who comes back first with the 
 yam is the winner." 
 
 "That rather cuts out the chap who might be 
 a little slow the first mile but strong at a finish, 
 doesn t it?" 
 
 "I never thought of that," said Trelawney, 
 somewhat dashed. Then he brightened, "Well, 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 137 
 
 what difference does it make? We re not timing 
 this lot. The real race will be from here to the 
 yam." 
 
 He led the contestants down the forest track, 
 showed them where he laid the yam, explained 
 several times the conditions, and returned to the 
 boma. Then he lined them up, twenty-six 
 bronze-red, naked, and shining figures. After 
 three false starts which necessitated much shriek 
 ing to call back the over-zealous they were off. 
 Trelawney, glancing at his wrist watch, wiped his 
 streaming forehead, and sank into a canvas chair 
 alongside his friend. 
 
 "I ll give them about twelve minutes," he 
 hazarded. "Boy, bring me lime juice and 
 sparklets." 
 
 The lithe figures entered the forest. Quiet 
 fell. The squatting figures stared round-eyed. 
 
 Cazi Moto brought the tall balauri, and Tre 
 lawney sipped gratefully at its contents. Sud 
 denly he set it down and uttered an ejaculation 
 of surprise. From the forest leaped an eager figure 
 followed almost immediately by several more. 
 The contestants were returning! 
 
138 SIMBA 
 
 1 Blockheads ! cried Trelawiiey , thoroughly 
 exasperated. "They ve mixed it again! They 
 haven t been gone three minutes!" 
 
 Closely followed by a half-dozen others the lead 
 ing contestant dashed up. He eagerly thrust 
 forward a yam. 
 
 "Here, bwana /" he gasped. 
 
 And his companions, close at his heels, also prof 
 fered yams. And before Trelawney had recovered 
 his wits, all the other contestants had dashed 
 into the clearing and were urging upon his atten 
 tion yet more yams! The reasoning was per 
 fectly clear: the bwana wanted yams, here were 
 yams, why run an incredible distance for one? 
 
 Kingozi choked, arose hastily, and entered the 
 hut, from which he did not emerge until the n goma 
 was well under way. 
 
 This was where the multitude had its innings 
 at last, and with gusto did it enter into the occasion. 
 All night long the drums roared and throbbed; 
 the wild figures leaped with the shadows of the 
 flames. Dawn found them still fresh as the pro 
 verbial daisies, and apparently willing to go on 
 indefinitely. Trelawney was exhausted. Even 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 139 
 
 his youth had run dry. A headache hammered 
 at his skull, and his eyes burned. Kingozi, 
 accustomed through long years to this sort of 
 thing, had been sleeping peacefully in the house 
 since early evening. Trelawney wondered bit 
 terly how he could do it! 
 
 He had not intended to feed this crowd, it was 
 altogether too expensive, but by now he was 
 desperate and felt that anything was cheap that 
 promised to stop this interminable racket. So 
 he instructed Cazi Moto, and in five minutes the 
 dance had stopped and all were crowding toward 
 the boma where a distribution of potio was taking 
 place. As each received his allotment he dis 
 appeared silently into the forest. 
 
 Kingozi, awakened by the cessation of the noise, 
 came out of the house. The gray of dawn was 
 just filtering through the trees. He yawned and 
 looked with amazement on his rather demoralized 
 young companion. 
 
 "Party over?" 
 
 "I hope so," replied Trelawney vindictively. 
 "I never want to see another again. I m going 
 to sleep a week! But I don t regret: I think it 
 
i4o S I M B A 
 
 worked. And the people are certainly good 
 sportsmen! They went into it hard and en 
 thusiastically once they were given a lead." 
 
 The last of the multitude were fading into the 
 forest as the daylight grew strong. All but one 
 group. These approached, headed by M Booley. 
 In them Trelawney recognized the contestants in 
 his athletic contest of the day before. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked uneasily. 
 
 "The Bwana M Kubwa," said M Booley, "has 
 asked my people to work for him, and has prom 
 ised rupees for the work; and I have told the bwana 
 that when the time came that he asked me to do 
 so I would get him as many men as he might 
 require." 
 
 " What the devil, does he think I want to go into 
 all that at this time?" muttered Trelawney 
 savagely to his friend. Aloud he said in Swahili: 
 "That is true, O M Booley, but until your people 
 come to work of their own free will I do not want 
 them." 
 
 A pause and a low-voiced consultation. Then 
 M Booley spoke again: 
 
 "My people have come of their own free will." 
 
TRUE SPORTSMEN 141 
 
 "What is the old rotter driving at?" que 
 ried Trelawney of Kingozi. "Say plainly," he 
 urged the Suka king. "What is it these men 
 want?" 
 
 "They say they have worked all one day," 
 replied M Booley, "and all day long they have 
 done what the bwana has told them to do; and 
 now~they have come for their pay ten pesi each 
 for one day s work." 
 
 Trelawney was staring at him in blank aston 
 ishment. It was some moments before he got 
 control of his voice. 
 
 "Did you hear what I heard?" he asked Kin 
 gozi, "are these chaps asking pay, wages, for tak 
 ing part in the sports?" 
 
 "Looks like it," replied Kingozi with an irre 
 pressible chuckle. 
 
 Trelawney s eyes glared, and his mouth twitched. 
 
 "Well, I ve been through a lot with this lot," 
 he began in a strangled voice. His emotions were 
 too great for utterance. He swallowed twice. 
 Then gradually his face calmed. 
 
 "He s right," he said abruptly. "Cazi Moto 
 from the box with the white mark bring me the 
 
SIMBA 
 
 small bag of money." He looked up at Kingozi. 
 "Anyway, I got them to work/ 7 he said. 
 
 From the bag he counted out the thin nickel 
 coins with the holes in the middle. The con 
 testants received them, strung them on thongs, 
 and departed. 
 
 "I m not sure it isn t what you d call an enter 
 ing wedge," remarked Trelawney thoughtfully as 
 he watched them go. He arose and stretched him 
 self. "I m too done to sleep," he remarked. 
 "I think I ll just go a round of golf and a tub first. 
 Will you play me a round?" 
 
 "What wages you offering?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 "You go to blazes!" cried Trelawney, marching 
 off, 
 
CHAPTER V 
 FORCED LABOUR 
 
 DRAWING on toward the second year of 
 the administration of young Trelawney 
 among the wild and untamed Sukas he 
 began to get a little discouraged. To be sure he 
 had, guided imperceptibly by the imperturbable 
 Culbertson, alias Kingozi, and his able assistant 
 Cazi Moto, accomplished a number of things. 
 For example, the two white men, with only a dozen 
 native attendants, had entered and peacefully 
 settled down with the tribesmen. When one 
 considers that these wild savages had been badly 
 handled and generally shot up by a previous party 
 hunting elephants; that they had long carried on 
 remorseless war with every stranger from any 
 where, this was something. Also the white men 
 had so far gained confidence that their daily 
 courts for the administration of justice were 
 thronged. Peace with neighbouring tribes had 
 
 143 
 
144 SIMBA 
 
 been established and maintained. The Gover 
 nor and Provincial Commissioner who had dared 
 the experiment of sending Trelawney and Kin- 
 gozi were well pleased. But all this triumph was 
 as ashes in the young man s mouth. Why? 
 He had set his heart on planting here the seeds of 
 civilization, and in civilization the first step was 
 voluntary paid labour. 
 
 He was by now as wise a young man as before 
 he had been superficial. Long months in the 
 jungle had developed his philosophical and ana 
 lytical side. He knew what he wanted. And 
 therefore he scouted Kingozi s easy suggestion 
 that a mere hint to M Booley would be sufficient. 
 That well-disposed despot would be glad to furnish 
 from ten to a thousand men, and furthermore 
 would see to it that they worked! 
 
 "Forced labour, " objected Trelawney, with the 
 same manner that two years ago he would have 
 used in saying "paper collars!" 
 
 And any other sort of labour seemed impossible 
 to get. Nobody wanted to work. Why should 
 they? The women built very comfortable huts 
 of wattle and grass; they raised amply sufficient 
 
FORCED LABOUR 145 
 
 crops of m wenibe, mahindi, eating and cooking 
 bananas; the small boys took care of the herds; 
 and wealth to barter for such desirable luxuries 
 as wire, snuff, ghee, well-flavoured eating soap, 
 and the like were an easy surplus of the women s 
 other industries. Well-fed, well-housed, well- 
 clothed, well-ornamented; why on earth should 
 any sane man want to work? They grinned 
 amiably, and promised lavishly, and sat in the 
 sun. 
 
 In the temporary backwater of suspended ener 
 gies Trelawney had leisure to become a little 
 homesick. Heretofore he had been too busy and 
 too much interested in the novelty of the place, 
 the people, and the power he held in his hands. 
 He was still interested, but he wanted a change. 
 He did not know what was the matter with him, 
 but things seemed to have gone flat and stale. 
 The shooting ceased to amuse; he was, as he con 
 fessed it, fed up with natives. It bored him. 
 Kingozi knew well the symptoms. The vertical 
 rays of a tropical sun get a man s nerves after a 
 time the [ultra-violet rays; and the tropic heats 
 and chills make for a jaded spirit. So well is this 
 
146 SIMBA 
 
 recognized that Government ordinarily gives its 
 servants six full months off every few years. 
 
 Trelawney began to talk of England, especially 
 after the daily hot bath before dinner, when the 
 men sat outside smoking in the cool of first eve 
 ning. He had been raised on a hilltop in Surrey. 
 He liked to recall to Kingozi little things a 
 glimpse of villages far below in trees; a hawthorne 
 hedge; a fir grove with rooks; wet pavements of 
 London at night; the smell of things after a rain 
 of course he never even brushed the idea of senti 
 ment; but sentiment was there. And a dozen 
 times he professed a profane willingness to chuck 
 the whole thing for ten minutes on Piccadilly. 
 
 Kingozi knew. Ten years before but now, 
 nothing. He knew no man in England well 
 enough to tempt him across the street; he had 
 no kin, and his memories who knew Kingozi s 
 memories? 
 
 "Look here," he said abruptly, "I m going on 
 another ivory trek. One of M Booley s men re 
 ports elephant on the north fringe of the mountain. 
 Why don t you go along this time? It would do 
 you good." 
 
FORCED LABOUR 147 
 
 But Trelawney shook his head. 
 
 "Who ll take over here in that case?" he asked. 
 
 Kingozi was tempted to reply that for a fort 
 night it was probable the Suka nation would man 
 age to wobble along. It had been wobbling along 
 for some time. Since the late Pleistocene, Kin 
 gozi thought. But he refrained. Few crimes are 
 worse than weakening a man s faith in his job. 
 
 So Kingozi said nothing more, but at once set 
 about preparations for his hunt. Every few 
 months such reports had been brought in. Kin 
 gozi never failed to follow them up, and as he 
 looked upon the slowly growing pile of tusks in 
 the store hut he felicitated himself that his stay 
 here was not entirely altruistic. 
 
 This evening he called on his familiar, Cazi 
 Moto, for further information. 
 
 "Who are these people who have seen the 
 elephant?" he asked. 
 
 "They are shenzis, forest people, bwana" 
 
 "They are here?" 
 
 "At your command, bwana." 
 
 Kingozi recognized the wiry little savages who 
 shortly appeared as belonging to that wildest, 
 
148 SIMBA 
 
 shyest, most primitive people, the Wanderobo of 
 the great forests. Living widely scattered in hol 
 low trees or logs, or in simple leaf huts; eating 
 wild honey, uncultivated roots and fruits, and 
 what small game they can destroy; without 
 clothes, ornaments, comforts, or implements; 
 they nevertheless possess, in common with the 
 animals who are their peers and companions, 
 an instinct for direction, a skill in tracking, a 
 knowledge of beasts that is marvellous. Rarely 
 do they permit themselves to become visible; 
 but in some slow, patient, strange manner Kingozi 
 had gamed their confidence. 
 
 They stood before him, carrying their bows 
 and arrows, almost naked, with few and poor 
 ornaments, their primitive faces with the strong, 
 prognathous jaws redeemed from utter savagery 
 by their soft and liquid eyes. 
 
 Through Cazi Moto, who spoke some of their 
 queer, fragmentary language, they conveyed what 
 they had to say: the elephants had come, they 
 were over yonder five hours, they were many. 
 Saying which they relapsed into silence and 
 waited. 
 
FORCED LABOUR 149 
 
 II 
 
 SIMBA, son of M Kuni, and member of the 
 highly ornamental bodyguard of chiefs sons 
 which was part of Trelawney s policy of pacifica 
 tion, dwelt in one of the Government huts with 
 his mates. The life he led was easy, and highly 
 satisfactory. He had all the food he cared to eat, 
 a warm place to sleep, and his natural instincts 
 toward display were encouraged. It was desirable 
 that the bodyguard should be impressed by its 
 own importance so that it remain thoroughly sat 
 isfied with itself. That is why soldier s peace 
 uniforms at least have always been gaudy. The 
 more undesirable the service, per se, the gaudier 
 the uniform. And it was furthermore desirable 
 that those chiefs sons should entertain a certain 
 rivalry or emulation among themselves. 
 
 The son of M Kuni came from rather a small and 
 outlying village. He did not possess the wealth 
 of some of his rivals. But his belongings were 
 in apple pie order. His buffalo hide shield he 
 kept well oiled and the heraldic pattern bright; 
 his long-bladed spear twinkled in the sun; his 
 
150 SIMBA 
 
 bead belt with the sword was cleaned daily; his 
 ostrich face frame and headdress, by the addition 
 of fresh feathers, were maintained at a high state 
 of pulchritude; his anklets, armlets, and necklaces 
 he kept polished with the leaves of Kiuvi. Be 
 sides he owned certain specialties a pair of 
 spats made of beads called mithanga; a horn snuff 
 bottle craftily ornamented with copper rings; and 
 especially a flat, circular ornament made of pelicoid 
 shells which he wore on his forehead and called 
 ibuo. These things were a source of great satis 
 faction to him. 
 
 His duties were light and pleasant. He turned 
 out in full regalia at flag-raising time. He at 
 tended the Bwana M Kuba on all his official er 
 rands. Occasionally, after winding his spear blade 
 with red cloth, he went somewhere as messenger. 
 These journeys took him to the villages round 
 about, to neighbouring nations, and once in a great 
 while over a ten days journey to the white man s 
 town where he saw many wonders. Everywhere 
 he had a soul-satisfying opportunity to show off 
 before less-favoured mortals. He was a fierce 
 and imposing figure and he knew it; and ha 
 
FORCED LABOUR 151 
 
 greatly enjoyed the envious glances of the men, and 
 the coy, bright-eyed scrutiny of the girls. And 
 even in Nairobi itself he was conscious of being 
 remarked by the white people. 
 
 Before coming to the boma, Simba would have 
 considered all this the height of any reasonable 
 man s ambitions. But now he was dissatisfied. 
 There were greater heights to be scaled. As be 
 tween Simba in all his savage and haughty glory, 
 and little black, wizened Cazi Moto dressed in a 
 khaki shirt (ragged), a pair of khaki "shorts" 
 (ragged), and a pair of shoes, also ragged but in 
 dubitably white man s, no human being with an 
 eye for the picturesque would have hesitated for a 
 moment. Nevertheless Simba envied Cazi Moto, 
 envied him with all his heart. 
 
 And when word came to him in the camp gossip 
 that the shenzis were in with news of elephant, he 
 did a bold thing. He sought out Kingozi, busy 
 with preparation, and asked a personal inter 
 view. 
 
 The white man looked up from the little pile 
 of duffle he was contemplating. His eye, cold 
 and expressionless, swept the gorgeous figure 
 
152 SIMBA 
 
 from head to foot. His jaw thrust forward agres- 
 sively the line of his beard. 
 
 "Well?" he demanded. 
 
 "Bwana," said Simba, "it has come to me that 
 you go to fight the elephant. I ask you to take me. 
 
 "What for?" asked Kingozi bluntly. 
 
 "As gunbearer," said Simba. 
 
 Cazi Moto cackled, and the four veteran bear 
 ers, who had squatted listening to the colloquy, 
 burst out laughing. Kingozi himself grinned. 
 
 "Gunbearer, eh?" he repeated, grimly amused. 
 What do you know of guns ? Can you load one ? 
 
 "Yes, bwana." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Kingozi in some sur 
 prise. " Where did you learn that? " 
 
 "I have watched, bwana." 
 
 "How do you clean a gun? " 
 
 "First," said Simba, greatly heartened, "I 
 get water, very hot, katchemka sana, and I pour 
 it down the hole, slowly, slowly. And then I take 
 a piece of cloth and I push it through with the 
 stick; and another; and another until the last 
 cloth is dry. And then I put the fat that is in the 
 small bottle on another piece of cloth, and I push 
 
FORCED LABOUR 153 
 
 that through the hole. And then I rub this 
 cloth on the outside." 
 "And you learned this by watching?" 
 
 Kingozi arose from the ground and dropped into 
 his canvas chair. 
 
 "This is interesting," he said to himself in 
 English, as was his frequent custom. "Never 
 knew a native to observe that closely. Now," 
 he continued in Swahili, "have you also watched 
 how one takes the skin from a head?" 
 
 "Yes, bwana." 
 
 "Tell me." 
 
 Simba did so in minute detail. He had even 
 noticed a certain first incision in the back of the 
 neck that was peculiar to Kingozi. 
 
 "Astonishing!" muttered the latter. 
 
 He continued to stare at the picturesque, bril 
 liantly decorated savage before him, his jaw 
 thrust forward, his steely eyes hard and uncom 
 promising as was his habit. 
 
 "Listen," he said abruptly. "I know you welL 
 You are that Simba whom I rubbed with the fat 
 of the lion when you were a small boy. Therefore 
 
154 SIMBA 
 
 you are brave. You have also knowledge of some 
 things. But bravery and knowledge are not all 
 of a gunbearer. A gunbearer must know many 
 things you do not know. Also he must serve his 
 white man better than he would serve himself, and 
 he must know and carry out all the disfaufj* of a 
 gunbearer. To do this he must serve the white 
 man for a long time." 
 
 "I wish to serve, bwana." 
 
 Kingozi barked out a short, contemptuous 
 laugh. 
 
 "But a gunbearer! You are no more a gun- 
 bearer than a cub is a killer of the lion pack. 
 Because you flap your arms, are you therefore an 
 eagle?" 
 
 The attentive bystanders laughed. If Simba 
 had been a white youth instead of a red-bronze 
 youth, he would probably have blushed deeply. 
 As it was he stared straight before him and his 
 ostrich plumes quivered. 
 
 "What does a man do to become a gunbearer, 
 bwana ? " he asked. 
 
 "He serves the white man, and learns," replied 
 
 The customs, as comprising also the traditions, loyalties, ana ideals of any service. 
 
FORCED LABOUR 155 
 
 Kingozi. " And if he learns well, and serves well, it 
 may be that some time he gets a chance." 
 
 "Then I will serve, bwana." 
 
 "Will you, indeed !" commented Kingozi, in 
 English. "Very well. To do so you must lay 
 aside for always all these things," he indicated with 
 a brief almost contemptuous gesture the shield, 
 spear, barbaric ornaments of the splendid savage. 
 "You will wear the blanket and clothes of a porter. 
 You will carry a load on your head. You will 
 receive potio as a porter, and meat when meat is 
 shot. You will chop wood, carry water, make 
 camp, do all the hard work that a porter must do. 
 Whatever I tell you, that you must do. You 
 will go where I go or where I tell you to go. You 
 will be paid five rupees each month." 
 
 Simba listened attentively, his eyes unwavering. 
 At the close of the speech he stepped forward, 
 laid his spear and shield at Kingozi s feet, stripped 
 the ostrich plume headdress from his head, added 
 his war club, his bead belt, the bells he wore along 
 his thighs, and was about to remove even the arm 
 lets and necklets, but Kingozi stopped him. 
 
 "Bassi," said he. "It is then agreed. Cazi 
 
156 SIMBA 
 
 Moto, give this man a blanket, a jersey, a water 
 bottle." 
 
 Ill 
 
 NEXT morning the hunting party entered the 
 forest. It consisted of Kingozi, Cazi Moto, and 
 the four porters, one of whom was Simba. The 
 loads they carried were very light, not more than 
 thirty pounds per man, and contained only the bar 
 est necessities for the roughest camping. The 
 method of hunting the elephant in these forests 
 was simplicity itself. The little party would follow 
 on the track of an elephant throughout all the day 
 light hours. At night they would make a fireless 
 camp, eat cold food, and lie down to sleep as well 
 as they might until the following morning. Then 
 they would resume the pursuit. Kingozi always 
 allowed himself five days. If at the end of the 
 fourth day he had not struck his quarry, here- 
 turned on the fifth to his base camp for rest and 
 new supplies. Five days of that kind of labour was 
 about all the human frame should be called upon 
 to endure. 
 
 At the edge of the forest they were met by the 
 
FORCED LABOUR 157 
 
 Wander obo. These little naked hunters materi 
 alized suddenly and silently. There were now a 
 dozen of them. Without formal greeting they 
 gathered in a compact circle, making room for 
 Kingozi and Cazi Moto, who squatted down with 
 them. The four porters stood in the background. 
 Someone kindled a tiny fire. N jahgi, the 
 leader, in so far as such primitive savages could be 
 said to have a leader, produced from a skin bag 
 hung around his neck a chunk of dried elephant fat. 
 This he deposited on the fire. When it blazed up, 
 each number of the circle laid upon the flame a 
 sacrifice. One cut several links from the iron 
 chain he wore around his neck; another poured out 
 a palmful of pungent stuff; a third donated a col 
 lection of apparently valueless pebbles and seeds 
 which were undoubtedly cherished magic; and so 
 on. Kingozi recognized that these apparently 
 trivial things were hi reality of great value to so 
 simple and impoverished a people; and that by the 
 extent of the sacrifice could be gauged their opin 
 ion of the seriousness of the occasion. When his 
 turn came he laid upon the flames a very brilliant 
 cotton handkerchief. 
 
158 SIMBA 
 
 The N jahgi arose to his feet and, with arms 
 upstretched, addressed in turn each of the four 
 points of the compass. He spoke in a language 
 unknown to Kingozi, or indeed to Simba and his 
 companions, but his deep earnestness lent to his 
 utterances a solemnity. Then, plucking a branch 
 from a near-by bush, he dipped it in the ashes of 
 the dying fire, and with it struck gently thrice 
 across Kingozi s face. The ceremony being thus 
 finished, all arose and swiftly took up the trail into 
 the forest. 
 
 Simba had never before carried a load: so it 
 was as well that this was light. By way of counter 
 balance, however, the track of the elephant led 
 over a very rough country and through a very 
 thick jungle. Only where the great beast had 
 cleared a way would it have been possible for 
 human beings to proceed at all. Up steep hills and 
 down again; through streams; across jungles where 
 the swinging vines, merely brushed aside by the 
 animal s passage, caught at the loads like hands; 
 then climbing again an almost perpendicular 
 slope, and so into the bamboo forests where the 
 cool-looking green stalks grew close and almost 
 
FORCED LABOUR 159 
 
 as tall as the sky, and one saw only in the narrow 
 tracks of elephants or down short vistas where 
 grew deep, spongy green moss. And at night 
 after a supper of cold potio, which is unappetizing, 
 everyone, Kingozi included, wrapped up and lay 
 down on the ground. It was very cold and 
 there was no fire. The Wanderobo curled up to 
 gether like so many dogs. The porters and Simba 
 shivered miserably and were most unhappy. At 
 dawn, stiff and weary, they were up and off again. 
 Simba s neck ached, his lungs laboured, his legs 
 hurt, but if he, or any of the porters, so much as 
 scraped a log in passing, Cazi Moto hissed back 
 a fierce warning. 
 
 For two days thus they followed the elephant s 
 track. On the morning of the third day, after a 
 plunge down from the bamboo into the forest 
 country again, the elephant s tracks joined those 
 of many more; and the whole band moved forward 
 together, cutting a twenty-foot swath through the 
 jungle as though a gigantic mowing machine had 
 passed. 
 
 Shortly after they came within hearing of the 
 elephants. Simba had never seen one of these 
 
160 SIMBA 
 
 great beasts, and now he listened with something 
 approaching awe to the thunder-like rumblings 
 of digestion and the slow, deliberate crashings of 
 the unseen monsters. They were evidently feed 
 ing on a forested side hill across a deep, cleft 
 ravine. 
 
 After a short consultation the whole party 
 moved forward again. Simba and his mates still 
 carried the burdens, for until actually in touch with 
 the game no man could tell where the chase might 
 lead. 
 
 The next three hours were terrifying and hum 
 bling to Simba. At the end of them he wondered 
 how he had ever in his ignorance dared raise his 
 eyes to the position of gunbearer. They crept for 
 ward down the elephant trails; and almost immedi 
 ately they were in the middle of the scattered herd. 
 Kingozi kept lighting matches, shaking the flame 
 from them, and watching anxiously where the im 
 perceptible currents of air carried the resultant 
 puffs of smoke. The Wanderobo disappeared 
 noiselessly, and reappeared again one by one, and 
 disappeared again. The party moved forward 
 by inches, with infinite precautions. Beyond the 
 
FORCED LABOUR 161 
 
 leafy screen that hemmed them in almost stiflingly 
 they heard lazy, tremendous sounds. 
 
 Then suddenly one of the beasts screamed, and 
 pandemonium broke loose. Great bodies rushed 
 here and there; the tops of small trees shivered 
 with shock; the rip of branches torn whole from 
 the trunk followed by tremendous crashes re 
 sounded on all sides. And from all directions 
 the trumpeting was continuous. 
 
 Kingozi stood still in the centre of a tiny open 
 ing. His bent figure had straightened tensely; 
 his bearded lips had parted to show the gleam 
 of teeth; his eyes shone. Close to his elbow 
 crouched Cazi Moto, holding the second rifle. 
 He, too, was taut as a coiled spring; his eyes also 
 shone. The Wanderobo bent low and dove under 
 the bush, worming their way out of sight. The 
 row increased. Every few moments one or two 
 of the little forest people would dart from the 
 mysterious shadows as though the devil were be 
 hind them. Sometimes they were cruelly fright 
 ened. Their skins had turned ashen gray, 
 their limbs trembled as with palsy, their eyes 
 rolled in their heads, their teeth chattered so 
 
162 SIMBA 
 
 they could hardly speak. It was evident that 
 they had been very close to death. They ran to 
 crouch at the white man s feet as terrified dogs 
 might run for comfort to their masters. Never 
 theless, after shivering for a few moments they 
 apparently regained control of themselves, spoke 
 a few low words to the attentive hunter, shook 
 themselves, and dauntlessly plunged into the 
 forest again. Simba s imagination was not over 
 developed, but he wondered if he could do 
 that. 
 
 This lasted for a good half hour. Then they 
 had to leave that spot. Without warning the 
 green leaves parted and an elephant brushed into 
 the opening. It loomed fairly over them. To 
 Simba s terrified senses it seemed as tall as the 
 forest trees and as massive as a kopje of the plains. 
 Kingozi and Cazi Moto ducked low and ran, not 
 away from the beast but angling back past it. 
 The porters dropped their loads and scattered 
 off into space. Simba clung to his load and fol 
 lowed his master. This was not bravery on his 
 part. The other porters had been in like cir 
 cumstances before and knew what to do. Simba 
 
FORCED LABOUR 163 
 
 did not Therefore he instinctively followed the 
 white man. As to his retaining his load, that was 
 sheer accident. He did not have enough unscared 
 wit to let go. 
 
 The elephant trumpeted and crashed after the 
 elusive porters. Kingozi and Cazi Moto at once 
 halted. They seemed unperturbed. 
 
 "Small cow, bwana" remarked Cazi Moto. 
 
 After a moment they returned to the opening. 
 Kingozi noticed Simba. 
 
 "Why did you keep your load?" he asked. 
 
 But Simba was spared the necessity of an em 
 barrassing reply, for at that instant N jahgi and 
 another hunter ran up excitedly. N jahgi plucked 
 at Kingozi s sleeve, uttering excitedly a low- 
 voiced word. At once all four, stooping low, 
 disappeared. 
 
 A long wait ensued. Simba, chilly from ex 
 citement, shivered by the four loads. The forest 
 was growing quieter. The elephants, vaguely 
 disturbed by a presence they had not fully deter 
 mined, were calming down. Then a short dis 
 tance away the great elephant gun spoke. Once! 
 twice! then two shots close together. 
 
164 SIMBA 
 
 An instant s silence, and then a roar of sound. 
 The former disturbance had been nothing. Sim- 
 ba, sitting on one of the loads, listened with awe. 
 The herd had moved on down the ravine so he, 
 personally, was well out of it. But the rending 
 of wood, the crash of branches, the irresistible 
 rush of bodies, the screaming, trumpeting, and 
 yelling of the enraged and alarmed animals 
 made of that lower ravine a cauldron of sound 
 that seemed to Simba like the whirling abode of 
 devils. And every few moments, from the very 
 centre of it, boomed a gun. Behind the gun, Simba 
 knew, was Cazi Moto, gunbearer! 
 
 Then without apparent reason the herd moved 
 away. It could be heard smashing on down the 
 ravine; the sounds rapidly becoming fainter until 
 they ceased. A deep silence descended on the 
 forest. Simba, left alone in this strange environ 
 ment, wondered, awe stricken, whether all had 
 been killed. 
 
 It seemed to him that he sat there minutes. As 
 a matter of fact it was seconds only. Then a 
 long, clear call sounded. Almost immediately 
 the other three porters appeared very myster- 
 
FORCED LABOUR 165 
 
 iously, picked up their loads, and set out in the 
 direction of the call. Simba followed them. 
 
 They proceeded for perhaps a quarter mile, 
 making their way through the wreck and devas 
 tation of the elephant stampede. Then they 
 came upon a little group consisting of Kingozi, Cazi 
 Moto, N jahgi, and all his Wanderobo. Simba s 
 incredulous eyes counted them. They were all 
 there. Furthermore, they were sitting about 
 chatting as though nothing had happened. Kin 
 gozi was leaning against a huge gray rock smoking 
 his pipe. Then with a shock Simba realized that 
 it was not a rock, but a dead elephant! 
 
 He set down his load and walked all around the 
 huge animal, gazing with dumfounded aston 
 ishment at its proportions, its trunk, the gleam of 
 its massive ivory. Of such a thing had Simba 
 never dreamed. Kingozi was talking with Cazi 
 Moto. 
 
 "This is a good bull, bwana, with good 
 teeth." 
 
 "A good one/ assented Kingozi. "The other 
 is not much smaller. But I am not pleased that 
 we had to kill the cow." 
 
i66 SIMBA 
 
 "If we had not killed the cow, the cow would 
 have killed us. They were very many. 7 
 
 "That s true." 
 
 So there were two others! And these had of 
 their own accord descended into the raging hell. 
 Indeed this was a great master who fights the 
 Elephant! Simba looked upon the hero, Cazi 
 Moto, and admiration filled him; he looked 
 upon Kingozi, the demi-god, and veneration 
 flooded his whole being. Simba was a simple 
 soul. 
 
 The tiny simple camp was made, and presently 
 all set to work on the hard labour of cutting out 
 the ivory. But first Kingozi permitted his men 
 and the Wanderobo hunters to take their selec 
 tion of the meat. Cazi Moto and his friends skin 
 ned bits from the inside of the trunks, and in 
 addition laid aside for future reference huge 
 chunks cut from along the backbone. The 
 Wanderobo, however, had different ideas. They 
 opened slits in the great beasts bellies, and 
 actually crawled inside the body cavities in search 
 of especial tit-bits! After ten minutes they re 
 appeared, somewhat soiled, but very happy. 
 
FORCED LABOUR 167 
 
 Each then cut off as much more as he could carry 
 of the coarser meat. 
 
 The job was finished none too soon. Appeared 
 on the scene at a dog- trot an ancient shrivelled 
 savage with a hyrax fur cap followed by three old 
 women, his wives, and any quantity of miscel 
 laneous ages of both sexes, his various descend 
 ants. These were one and all armed with the 
 native soft iron sword-knives. The edges were 
 both bad and temporary, and the elephant s 
 meat tough, but they set to work with great 
 diligence, being in on the ground floor. As fast 
 as a chunk of meat was severed they laid it aside 
 in a rapidly growing pile under a certain tree. 
 There they knew it would be perfectly safe from 
 theft. 
 
 Their business-like diligence was shortly ex 
 plained by the arrival of more and yet more 
 natives. They appeared from all directions, 
 swiftly and silently. How they had received the 
 news, who shall say? The transmittal of detailed 
 intelligence over incredible distances, in the brief 
 est time, through unpopulated country, is one of 
 the mysteries of Africa. But there they were, 
 
i68 SIMBA 
 
 hundreds of them, all as busy as bees. And, 
 unbelievable as it may seem, by the time darkness 
 had fallen the three great carcasses had been 
 stripped of everything edible. In the aisles of 
 the forest, beneath the cozy shelter of the lower 
 jungle, gleamed a hundred little fires. The smell 
 of roasting meat was in the air. A happy chatter 
 was going up everywhere. On the under side of 
 leaves and against the trunks of trees cross shad 
 ows, cross lights were carrying on a mad jolly 
 revel of their own. In the depths of the forest, 
 as always, the tree hyraxes screamed like devils. 
 
 Before the larger fire built by the porters Simba 
 reclined. His happiness was nearly complete. 
 Tall, grill-like racks supported strips of meat at 
 just the right distance for the inauguration of the 
 process of making biltong. Switches nearer the 
 blaze impaled tit-bits of roasting meat. A suf- 
 uria with potio and still more meat boiled fu 
 riously. His companions were swapping boastful 
 or wonderful stories, as is porter custom, and 
 through them Simba envisaged wonderful far 
 countries, mighty deeds. Although naturally 
 they retained the lofty superiority of the travelled 
 
FORCED LABOUR 169 
 
 over the stay-at-home, still he felt that they had 
 apparently accepted him as one of themselves. 
 His neck muscles had recovered from the carrying 
 of the load. Across the eddying smoke, at an 
 other fire, he could see dimly his idol, gravely 
 smoking his pipe and gazing into the coals, 
 occasionally exchanging a word with Cazi Moto. 
 In the background lay the gleaming tusks of 
 ivory tangible evidence of triumph. Simba s 
 heart swelled as he thought of the triumphant 
 return. 
 
 Only one fly in the ointment. Simba felt 
 cruelly his lack of clothes. No, gentle reader, he 
 was not cold, nor overtaken with hitherto un 
 known modesty. But magnificent as were his 
 wire jewellery, his ear ornaments, his beadwork, 
 they marked him indubitably as a temporary 
 porter, as a shenzi. Mightily he longed for the 
 nondescript conglomeration of white man s cast- 
 offs that make every safari so closely resemble a 
 rummage sale. He had no means of acquiring 
 such valuables. Then like a flash he remembered 
 Kingozi s promise of five rupees a month! For 
 the first time in his life Simba realized the use of 
 
170 SIMBA 
 
 and the desire for money. He turned to his 
 neighbour and began to bargain. But though the 
 use and desire of money were thus revealed, the 
 value was not; so Simba was utterly done in the 
 eye by the astute barbarian. Nevertheless, he 
 became possessed of a pair of ragged "shorts" 
 and the wreck of a military tunic too small for 
 him. (The vendor philosophically went naked 
 until the boma was reached.) The price was 
 exorbitant, but even later sophistication failed 
 to make Simba even regret his bargain. 
 
 IV 
 
 THE triumphal return to the boma had taken 
 place. That hour was brief but glorious. 
 Each regular porter carried a tusk, its hollow 
 filled with damp mud to preserve it, leaving to 
 casual shenzis impressed for the purpose the 
 transportation of the cow ivory and the scanty 
 camp equipment. Everybody turned out to see 
 them. Simba gazed with pitying contempt on 
 his late comrades-in-arms. 
 
 "Good luck," Kingozi answered Trelawney s 
 question. " Got four bull tusks that will average 
 
FORCED LABOUR 171 
 
 about eighty pounds. Had to shoot a cow, I m 
 sorry to say. She was fairly on top of me. Have 
 to report her into the Commissioner, I suppose. 
 She had nice ivory about fifteen pounds apiece, 
 I should judge. But you don t care a hang for 
 all that. I can see you have something on your 
 mind. Let s have it before you burst." 
 
 "Oh, I say," protested Trelawney. "Of course 
 I m interested, no end!" 
 
 But he required little more urging. 
 
 "I ve been mulling it over," he announced with 
 triumph, "and I have the solution." 
 
 "You mean civilizing the savages, voluntary 
 labour, and all the rest?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Kingozi, filling his pipe. 
 
 "A tax payable only in cash," explained 
 Trelawney. "No wait until I have finished I 
 know just what you re going to say. It won t be 
 a tax on individuals, or products, or anything of 
 that sort. I know perfectly well it would be 
 impossible to get any just census of all that. But 
 this will be a tax for every hut! What do you 
 think of that?" 
 
172 SI MB A 
 
 " Splendid ! " said Kingozi. " Go on." 
 
 "You see I can get track of the huts; and I ll 
 levy an annual tax of, say, three rupees. Not 
 much, but somebody will have to work long 
 enough to get it. And I shall insist on payment 
 in cash!" 
 
 "And since you have the only supply of rupees 
 in the whole district," supplemented Kingozi. 
 "They ll have to work for you." 
 
 "Precisely!" cried Trelawney, his face glowing. 
 
 "Suppose they refuse to pay the tax?" 
 
 Trelawney stiffened. 
 
 "In that case I should of course be prepared to 
 take proper measures," he replied. 
 
 Kingozi choked badly over his pipe, and 
 finally coughed his way outdoors. There he ran 
 like a deer, until at a safe distance he laughed 
 until the tears trickled over his great beard. Cazi 
 Moto came there upon him. 
 
 "There is good news, bwana" he ventured. 
 
 "Cazi Moto," said Kingozi impressively, "won 
 derful beyond the powers of expression are the by 
 ways of conscience and the human soul. Here 
 is a youth whose whole being revolts against the 
 
FORCED LABOUR 173 
 
 idea of forced labour. He wouldn t think of it! 
 Not he ! The very notion is abhorrent. Kingozi 
 laughed again. Cazi Moto joined respectfully: 
 though as Kingozi s remarks were all in English, 
 his sympathy was affectionate but unintelligent. 
 "But he s willing to take proper measures to 
 make them give him what they can get from him 
 only by labour. And in the end he s still got the 
 money and the labour! Oh, fine! Shall I tell 
 him that, Cazi Moto? Never! I approve of the 
 whole show. But you must acknowledge it s 
 funny!" 
 
 "N dio, bwana" said Cazi Moto; which is a 
 good shot-gun reply, like the French je crois. 
 
 Trelawney went at his new scheme whole 
 heartedly, with a fine eye for detail. He sent out 
 the sublimated errand boys, that Kingozi called 
 the "Bang s Guard," with instructions to count 
 carefully the houses in each village, bringing back 
 one stick for each house. He himself rode here and 
 there, checking at random the count. After this 
 was completed he called in each village a little 
 shauri to explain the new system; and after they 
 were all finished a grand shauri at the boma for the 
 
174 SIMBA 
 
 same purpose. It took hours of talk to explain 
 the idea to Trelawney s satisfaction. The simple 
 Suka grasped it in five minutes. It was another 
 honga or tax. They were accustomed to lion-gas 
 from ancient tunes. The phrase "payable in 
 rupees only " did not impress them at that moment. 
 Gradually it dawned on Trelawney himself that 
 human problems are never miraculously solved 
 by mere legislative enactment. The slow, tedious 
 "campaign for education" to make it effective 
 was yet to come. Therefore he terminated the 
 shauri with a few appropriate remarks. 
 
 He returned to his tea rather thoughtfully. 
 
 "I think I ve made a good start/ 7 he told 
 Kingozi, "but a great deal remains to be done. 
 They don t realize yet. I ve been thinking. I 
 must name a fairly early date for payment; bring 
 considerable pressure to bear; and they, when 
 they can t pay as of course they can t give 
 them a well-understood extension of one month 
 or two " 
 
 He sipped at his tea, his forehead wrinkled with 
 deep thought. The savages who had attended 
 the shauri were only slowly leaving the boma. 
 
FORCED LABOUR 175 
 
 There was the sound of chattering, of loud laugh 
 ter. Some were making their way to the dukka of 
 Mahrad, the Indian. Then a cry arose of warning 
 angalia ! angalia ! The crowd parted, and two 
 of Trelawney s splendid messengers were seen 
 coming along at a dog trot. They were in full 
 panoply, and one held straight before him, as a 
 crusader might carry a cross, a split stick in 
 whose cleft letters had been bound. 
 
 There proved to be two of these, and both 
 official. He read them shortly with darkening 
 brow and kindling eye. 
 
 "Of all the damned impudence!" he cried at 
 last. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Kingozi; who, by the way, 
 already knew perfectly. 
 
 " They ve laid me off for a six months vacation !" 
 cried Trelawney, "and have appointed Barrows 
 to take my place!" 
 
 "Congratulations," said Kingozi, "now you can 
 take your trip to England youVe wanted so badly." 
 
 "Trip to England be damned!" Trelawney 
 vociferated, his calm completely shattered. 
 "There s my hut tax!" 
 
176 SIMBA 
 
 He darted into the house. At the end of ten 
 minutes he returned, a sheet of closely written 
 paper in his hand. 
 
 "What have you done?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 "I ve told em I simply can t go," replied 
 Trelawney. "I ve told them to recall Barrows. 
 How can I leave my people?" 
 
 Kingozi arose, and laid his hand on the young 
 fellow s shoulder. 
 
 "I ll take your letter out," he said, "and 111 
 try to arrange it. I think I can. Let Barrows 
 come in. He ll make you a good assistant, and 
 will more than take my place as company." 
 
 "You re not coming back?" said Trelawney 
 blankly. 
 
 "I m overdue now, son, I m beginning to 
 believe." 
 
 TEN days later Kingozi s safari marched into 
 town. He had some fifteen or twenty of the 
 Sukas carrying ivory and a half-dozen regular 
 porters bearing his simple personal effects. Among 
 the latter was Simba. He wore his blanket turban- 
 
FORCED LABOUR 177 
 
 wise in approved fashion; and most of the rest 
 of his figure was covered by a greatcoat. This 
 garment had originally been built for English 
 winters. Its first owner had worn it as far as 
 Port Said, and then had laid it aside. He used 
 it as a night cover on the journey from Mombasa 
 to Nairobi, then became thoroughly disgusted 
 with its woolly stuffiness and gave it to his per 
 sonal boy. Thenceforward its vicissitudes were 
 many; and it showed all of them in its appearance. 
 Simba obtained it from Mahrad at an extor 
 tionate price in m wembe. It was very uncom 
 fortable but very honourable. He entered town 
 jauntily, carry ing his sixty-pound load like a 
 veteran, and his pride was as the pride of an army 
 with banners. 
 
 Kingozi went at once to Government House. 
 
 "Here," said he to the Governor, "is an epistle 
 from your Commissioner among the Sukas, prob 
 ably indignant and perhaps insulting, telling 
 you he doesn t want any vacation and telling you 
 to take back your Barrows and throw him in the 
 Indian Ocean. * 
 
 "But I thought he wanted a vacation!" 
 
178 SIMBA 
 
 "So did he think so. But now when it came 
 to a decision he talked of the impossibility of 
 leaving my people ! So I realized I wasn t 
 needed any longer. Here I am." 
 
 "There s no use trying to tell you how we ap 
 preciate what you ve done; but I want you to 
 understand that we realize fully. It s no light 
 matter, pacifying and bringing under Government 
 a hostile tribe with a handful of men. You think 
 Trelawney s safe to leave? " 
 
 Kingozi laughed. 
 
 "As a matter of fact, he s been safe to leave for 
 a year past. I ve been hanging on after my time. 
 It was a terrible wrench to leave when I did. It 
 wasn t love of King or Country that kept me 
 there, I assure you." 
 
 "Plenty of ivory?" suggested the Governor. 
 
 "A little. But hard and dangerous hunting. 
 It wasn t that." 
 
 "No? What then?" 
 
 "I was just plain fond of the young scoundrel," 
 said Kingozi. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 THE GUNBEARER 
 
 SIMBA, son of M Kuni, spurred by ambi 
 tion, came out of the jungle at the tail 
 of Kingozi, the white man s safari. Be 
 cause he had laid aside his gorgeous panoply of 
 savagery, because he had acquired some sketchy, 
 ragged, and disreputable white man s garments, 
 and because he had carried a load ten days over a 
 beaten track, he considered himself a full-fledged 
 porter. In this he found that he had deceived 
 himself. 
 
 For some reason or another he had imagined 
 himself tied to Kingozi for life. Instead he 
 joined a queue of those awaiting. When his 
 turn came, he received five rupees in silver, was 
 told briefly to keep Cazi Moto, the headman, 
 informed of his whereabouts and that he would 
 receive employment at the next opportunity, 
 and was turned loose to shift for himself. It 
 
 179 
 
i8o SIMBA 
 
 was rather bewildering. By natural gravitation 
 he finally landed at the native village just out 
 side the town. There he made friends, and 
 found a sleeping place. But in some myster 
 ious manner his five rupees had vanished with 
 out adequate return. This annoyed Simba, but 
 did not greatly disturb him. But after three 
 days of blithesome eating from the nearest pot, 
 he received the astonishing information that 
 such things were not gratis. If he would eat, 
 he must pay. As Simba s total assets consisted 
 of a partial outfit of decrepit khaki, a disrepu 
 table greatcoat, a cunningly contrived oryx horn 
 trumpet, and a few tribal knicknacks, he for 
 the first time understood the meaning of eco 
 nomic pressure. And rupees took on desirabil 
 ity. 
 
 How get more rupees? He had no idea. There 
 fore he hied himself away; and, as many before 
 him had done, he sought the low, single-storied 
 hotel and the white man s wisdom. 
 
 This hotel stood a little back from the street, 
 which was marked by a white picket fence. In 
 side that fence no native must venture save on 
 
THE GUNBEARER 181 
 
 business. Outside it stood innumerable rick 
 shaws ready to swoop in clouds should one of the 
 loungers on the cool dark veranda show the 
 slightest inclination to fare forth. The bullet- 
 headed Kavirondo rickshaw boys chattered and 
 yelled. An unending procession streamed past 
 savages, women bearing burdens of firewood, 
 local dandies in snow-white kanzuas, Europeans. 
 Simba immediately learned by -vehement apprisal 
 the rule as to the white picket fence. For the 
 rest of the day he stood wistfully outside, like a 
 dog, hoping that the white man might feel in 
 clined for a stroll. He could see Kingozi plainly, 
 lounging in a teakwood lazy chair. But Kingozi, 
 fresh to civilization after a long sojourn in the 
 wilderness, did not seem inclined to stir. Simba 
 begged a meal, and early the following morning 
 was back at his post. 
 
 Again no luck. At last, toward noon, he took 
 his courage in his hands, and waiting until the 
 Swahili major-domo had turned his back, ven 
 tured into the sacred precincts. He was almost 
 immediately detected and pounced upon. In de 
 spair he called loudly on Kingozi. The latter 
 
i82 SIMBA 
 
 looked at him attentively, then motioned the 
 zealous and scandalized official one side. 
 
 "Well? "he asked Simba. 
 
 "I wish to eat, bwana" 
 
 "Why don t you?" 
 
 "I have no food. And to get food I must have 
 white man s money. And to get white man s 
 money I must carry a load on safari." 
 
 "That is very true," said Kingozi, a grim 
 amusement twinkling in his eyes. "With five 
 rupees one can buy much food food to last three, 
 four moons. Where are the five rupees I gave 
 you?" 
 
 "Bwana" offered Simba, "I did not know one 
 must have rupees to give for food. So I played 
 the game with holes called bau, and my rupees 
 are gone." 
 
 "I see," remarked Kingozi; "what would you 
 have me do?" 
 
 "Do you not go on safari ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Simba looked perplexed and a little disheart 
 ened. 
 
 "From here to the villages of your people is 
 
THE GUNBEARER 183 
 
 only an eight-day walk. The people on the road 
 will feed you. Why do you not, return to your 
 villages?" 
 
 "That I do not wish to do, bwana" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "In that way I can never become a gunbearer." 
 
 "So that bee is still buzzing in your bonnet, is 
 it?" muttered Kingozi in English. "Well, I 
 do admire pluck. Go to Ali, the Somali," he 
 instructed Simba, "and say to him that I am 
 sending you and that he is to give you potio; 
 and that on the first safari where porters are 
 needed he is to send you out. He will give you 
 potio, and from the first rupees of your safari 
 he will take his pay. Bassi I" 
 
 Simba reported to Ali, the Somali, a tall, slen 
 der, aristocratic efficient man who recruited for 
 whatever expeditions might be setting forth. 
 Each afternoon thereafter Simba received a miser 
 able pound and a half of potio which Ali entered 
 against him in a little blank book full of Arabic 
 characters. Most of the sunny hours he loafed 
 against Ali s go-down, waiting in company with 
 other and merry spendthrifts the godsend of 
 
184 SIMBA 
 
 employment. The rest of the time he wandered 
 up and down the fascinating bazaars, or made 
 acquaintance with the varied life of the place. 
 He learned in company with older well-known por 
 ters the meaning of credit, and from his own 
 efforts in the direction of getting some the value of 
 reputation in obtaining it. He learned how 
 quickly the smiles fade from the faces of the bazaar 
 girls once his financial status became clear. He 
 gazed upon lordly gunbearers, Cazi Moto among 
 them, sitting on real chairs beneath the veranda 
 roof of Suleimani the Blind, drinking real tea, 
 and the suffering of acute envy entered his soul. 
 He bumped his head hard against arbitrary au 
 thority when engaged in the most innocent of 
 enterprises as when he curled himself comfortably 
 for the night in the hotel bathtub, an admirable 
 retreat discovered quite by accident. In short, 
 though he did not know it, Simba was becoming 
 civilized. 
 
 Then one day Ali emerged from the go-down, 
 looked appraisingly at the men waiting in the 
 sun, beckoned to a number of them. Simba was 
 one of those called. 
 
THE GUNBEARER 185 
 
 He found himself furnished with a canteen, a 
 light jersey, a cotton blanket of satisfactory red, 
 a stout thin cord, and a bag for potio. He was 
 assigned to a mess of five, and the mess further 
 acquired a tiny cotton tent only a trifle larger 
 than a dog kennel and a metal cooking pot called 
 a sufuria. When the loads were laid out in a 
 row and assigned, Simba drew a sack of potio. 
 One of the older porters showed him how to 
 bind on sticks in such a manner as to stiffen this 
 exceedingly floppy sort of load. 
 
 This safari was gone four months. It was in 
 charge of two white men who might have been 
 in Australia for all Simba had to do with them. 
 Between himself and these august personages 
 intervened an autocracy of gunbearers, personal 
 boys, and headman. Simba was but one of a 
 multitude. He carried his load, and as he was by 
 nature strong, he carried it well to the front of 
 each day s march. This being remarked by the 
 vigilant headman, he was promoted to a tent 
 load. It was important that the bwanas tent 
 should arrive among the first; while there was no 
 hurry about a stray load of potio. This tent load 
 
i86 SIMBA 
 
 was rather awkward to carry, but it was a great 
 honour. It raised Simba at once to the aristoc 
 racy of the porters. He looked with contempt 
 on the miserable kikuyus who invariably brought 
 up the rear. He had acquired a cheap pipe and 
 a swagger. At one bound he had reached the 
 top rank of that particular profession. As yet 
 he did not realize that the qualifications for the 
 top rank were merely a strong neck and a reason 
 able determination to keep up with the procession. 
 
 When camp was reached Simba had to assist 
 in pitching the tent; he helped unfold the cots 
 and chairs. Occasionally, but not very often, he 
 was required to bring in wood, or to go with the 
 white men after meat. The latter occupation was 
 entertaining and profitable. It furnished both 
 amusement and the chance of tucking away under 
 one s jersey some tit-bit from the slain animal. 
 
 After these duties were finished Simba was 
 free. He joined his friends about the fire where 
 steamed the sufuria. There he luxuriated in 
 warmth, food, and nakedness. Like all the 
 other porters, during the heat of the day and 
 beneath a sixty-pound load Simba wore every 
 
THE GUNBEARER 187 
 
 garment he possessed, including the heavy winter 
 overcoat; but when night s coolness. f ell he stripped 
 to the skin. By the fire he swapped tremendous 
 tales, sang to himself in a weird minor falsetto, 
 dipped into the sufuria, and generally gloried in 
 himself. About as he was getting rested and 
 interested one of the white men yelled "Kddet" 
 from his tent. Then everybody had to keep 
 quiet. Simba would not have traded his life for 
 the old savage days. Already he looked upon the 
 shenzis as immeasurably beneath him. 
 
 This trip was not a hard one. They moved 
 camp ten or twelve miles every few days, and 
 then the two white men performed mysterious 
 magic with various instruments on three legs. 
 Sometimes Simba had to carry one of these 
 instruments. It was not heavy; not much heavier 
 than a gun. As Simba was, like all natives, much 
 of a small boy at heart, he pretended it was a 
 gun. For this reason he took especial care of the 
 thing. After a time the white men, noting the 
 care though ignorant of the reason for it, instructed 
 the headman that Simba must hereafter always be 
 included in the surveying parties. Occasionally, 
 
i88 SIMBA 
 
 after the tripod was set up, Simba was handed a 
 bona-nde gun to hold. Those were great moments. 
 
 The consequence of all this was that Simba 
 returned to Nairobi considerably advanced. He 
 had become accustomed to carrying a full load 
 and had learned the porters tricks of easing 
 himself under his burden; he had absorbed camp 
 routine; and he had attracted sufficient attention 
 to himself so that when the men were paid off he 
 received a few words of commendation and two 
 extra rupees by way of baksheeshi. 
 
 After ascertaining that Kingozi was away in 
 the land of the Inglishi, Simba proceeded to 
 acquire knowledge of the purchasing power of a 
 pesij the market value of bazaar goods, the 
 exhilarating properties of tembo, the remarkable 
 friendliness of bazaar girls, and the evanescence 
 of great riches. For the twenty-two rupees, that 
 Simba had vaguely looked upon as provision to 
 late middle age at least, miraculously vanished in 
 about two weeks. And Simba still a young man! 
 
 No help for it! Back to Ali, the Somali, and 
 the bread line! 
 
 For his next employment, fortunately, he had 
 
THE GUNBEARER 189 
 
 to wait only about a week. It is doubtful whether 
 lacking Kingozi s renewed endorsement Ali the 
 Somali would long have advanced potio to a com 
 paratively unknown man. Then Simba would 
 have been thrown on the cold world in good 
 truth! 
 
 This safari was a one-man affair. It lasted 
 three terrible months on every day of which a 
 march was made. The route was through a 
 desert country where often water was scarce. 
 Some days journeys had to be ten, twelve, even 
 fourteen miles long. Men straggled, gave out 
 under the sun. Other men had to be sent back 
 from camp, often late at night, to succour them 
 with water and to help carry in their loads. The 
 fever was bad. Rhinoceros were numerous, and 
 Simba learned to jump for the thorn trees at the 
 first snort of the outrageous beasts. Great 
 stretches of country were unpopulated; and often 
 the potio supply fell so low that the men were on 
 half rations. There was plenty of grumbling, 
 plenty of sickness, considerable flogging. The 
 white man was grim, implacable, and unapproach 
 able. Nobody entertained for him the slightest 
 
ioo SIMBA 
 
 affection; yet he was just, efficient and possessed 
 great driving force. Many times Simba wished 
 himself safely back in the old idle life. He 
 wondered why he had ever left it. The ease of 
 the previous safari faded from his memory; the 
 delights of rupees and the bazaar grew dim. He 
 made up his mind that if he ever got out of this 
 he would stay out. Most of the other porters 
 were making the same resolve. In that they did 
 not differ from Simba. But there was this differ 
 ence: whereas they became slack and neglectful as 
 a result of the resolves, Simba continued to do his 
 work well. And when volunteers were called upon 
 to go back in the darkness for the weaklings who 
 had fallen behind, Simba always stepped forward. 
 Why? It would be impossible to say. Certainly 
 from no excess of moral virtue. Perhaps the 
 ascendency of the white man had got into his 
 blood, so that even here the childlike desire to 
 "show off" had its force; or perhaps it was the 
 difference in moral fibre that everywhere in the 
 world separates the individual from the herd. N 
 
 In any case, when at last the battered, gaunt, 
 wearied caravan dropped its loads before All s 
 
THE GUNBEARER 191 
 
 go-down, and the men lined up before the table 
 to receive their wages, the white man, hard but 
 just as ever, detained Simba. 
 
 "Ali," said he crisply to the Somali, "this is a 
 good man. Remember him. He is the best of 
 my porters." And then to Simba, "I have been 
 pleased with you. Here is baksheeshi m kubwa, 
 and in addition you may have my canvas coat. 
 Come to the hotel for it." 
 
 Simba found himself possessed of twenty-five 
 rupees for three months, mind you. A moment 
 before he had hated this white man, and he had 
 entertained a profound determination to eschew 
 all white man s works. Now he walked away with 
 his head in the air. He felt quite the grandest of 
 created things for about five minutes; or until he 
 came within eye range of the stone veranda of 
 Suleimani the Blind. Then when he saw the 
 headman and gunbearers sitting in genuine chairs 
 and drinking bona-fide tea, his pride fell. For an 
 envious minute he stared at this remote and 
 haughty gathering. As he turned away he 
 registered in his heart the native equivalent for 
 "Pike s Peak or Bust." 
 
SIMBA 
 
 II 
 
 OWING to the fact that Simba had been es 
 pecially recommended to Ali by his last employer, 
 he did not wait long for his next job. In fact, 
 but two days had passed when the Somali sum 
 moned him. As Simba had most of his rupees 
 still remaining he objected strongly. But All 
 would not listen. 
 
 "This is the son of a king," he said, "and it is a 
 mighty safari. You must go." 
 
 So Simba went, and found himself an insig 
 nificant unit in the multitude. 
 For once Ali had not exaggerated. It was in 
 reality the son of a king, indeed a crown prince 
 whose habitat must be concealed under the gen 
 eral term "of foreign extraction." He had come 
 to Africa for a big-game shoot in the furtherance 
 of which he brought with him a valet, a physician, 
 two assorted equerrys in waiting or some such 
 creature, a whole battery of firearms, three full 
 cases of ammunition, over fifty "chop boxes" 
 containing food and drink, an even dozen tin 
 uniform cases, and two lap-dogs in baskets. The 
 
THE GUNBEARER 193 
 
 crown prince was not a bad sort of a chap, but he 
 did not know any better; and he failed to realize 
 that here was his one God-given chance for 
 simplicity in a stifled life. He was met at the 
 steamship by a delegation. He came up the 
 Uganda Railway by private train. He was made 
 much of at Government House and elsewhere. 
 And finally he took the field on the best horse yet 
 imported into a horseless land. He was followed 
 by three hundred porters, twenty askaris or native 
 troops, the staff, and six ox-wagons carrying three 
 thousand pounds apiece. Each evening he ate 
 and drank through a regular course dinner with 
 appropriate wines. People called him Your High 
 ness and backed away from him. The two cap 
 able Englishmen who had the show in charge 
 toiled and sweated to keep the caravan running 
 smoothly. They were old Afrikanders and did not 
 like it; but they were very well paid and they did 
 their job. Camp was an imposing sight, what 
 with the big tent, and the medium-sized tents, and 
 all the little tents, and the innumerable fires, and 
 the royal standard flopping lazily in the evening 
 breeze. And on the march it extended in along 
 
i 9 4 SIMBA 
 
 line miles across the country. The white men 
 rode in advance; the personal staff trudged im 
 mediately behind; the porters howled and sang 
 and blew horns and beat their loads with their 
 safari-sticks j the ox- wagons creaked lumberingly 
 and bumpily; the askaris marched very straight; 
 the various headmen ran back and forth waving 
 their kibokos, and the people of the country stared 
 their eyes out. I tell you it was something to be 
 long to such a regal and splendiferous show; even 
 if you were only an unremarked one of three 
 hundred! 
 
 The only elements of the universe unimpressed 
 were the wild animals. Apparently they did not 
 care a picayune whether the individual rather 
 awkwardly attempting an approach was a royalty 
 or an ordinary citizen. And as the Crown Prince 
 had been accustomed all his life to instant defer 
 ence, this annoyed him. He seemed to think that 
 common respect would cause these beasts to hold 
 still to be killed. And as the success of the expe 
 dition was in the responsibility of the two hard- 
 worked Afrikanders, they, too, were anxious and 
 unnoyed. 
 
THE GUNBEARER 195 
 
 But the drawbacks to perfect happiness did not 
 affect Simba in the least. For the first time he 
 enjoyed to the full all the advantages of a porter s 
 life. The marches were short; the country was 
 easy (never do to take any chances with royalty) ; 
 the camping places were known in advance; the 
 camp work was practically nil with so many to 
 share it; the food and the equipment were mag 
 nificent and unaccustomed; and the prestige of 
 belonging J;o such an aggregation gave him among 
 the tribes through which the route lay a standing 
 thoroughly satisfying to the heart. Simba wal 
 lowed in ease, luxury, and vaingloriousness. 
 
 The unwieldy procession made its way to the 
 c^uth, passing the Thirst indifferently because of 
 huge especial water tanks, arriving at last in a 
 country of game so unsophisticated that not only 
 did it know nothing about royalty, but its ideas 
 as to firearms were negligible. As soon as the two 
 Englishmen persuaded their charge to quit fuss 
 ing with patent adjustable telescopic sights and 
 similar complicated sportsman inventions made 
 especially for crown princes and other wealthy 
 greenhorns, his Royal Highness began to have some 
 
196 S I M B A 
 
 success. And every time he killed anything he 
 especially wanted, he distributed baksheeshi or 
 gave a feast. 
 
 One evening the runners who regularly brought 
 in the royal mail happened to drift to the camp- 
 fire by which Simba lay. They had all the latest 
 news from Nairobi, and were therefore always 
 welcome to hospitality. Among other things 
 one of them said: 
 
 "Kingozi, the man who fights the elephant, has 
 come back from the land of the Inglishi, and he 
 collects a safari." 
 
 That night Simba made a little bundle of his 
 effects and of some food, and stole out of camp. 
 This was a dangerous thing to do, as Simba well 
 knew. The lions and other beasts, attracted by 
 the frequent kills necessary to feed so large a 
 multitude, had gathered in numbers. Simba 
 proceeded as rapidly as he could for a mile or so; 
 then, with a sigh of relief, climbed a tree. At first 
 streak of dawn he was down and away. 
 
 It took Simba nine days to get to Nairobi. 
 The country through which he had to pass was 
 barren, and the water holes infrequent. In 
 
THE GUNBEARER 197 
 
 addition the Masai, who inhabited it, would have 
 been delighted to have speared Simba on sight. 
 Even for one so recently emerged from savagery, 
 it was a notable feat. Nevertheless, Simba ar 
 rived somewhat gaunt, scratched, and sleepless. 
 To his relief he found that Kingozi s safari had 
 not yet departed. 
 
 At the go-down of Ali the Somali he found the 
 white man superintending the packing of his out 
 fit. Simba offered himself. 
 
 But at that moment Ali came up, recognized 
 him, and proffered the natural question of what 
 he was doing there. Simba, being as yet a guile 
 less soul, told the truth. He had been with the 
 safari of that king: it was an easy safari; but he 
 had heard that Kingozi was to make a journey: 
 he preferred to go with Kingozi. 
 
 He finished to meet a disconcerting stare. Kin 
 gozi seemed more aloof, more uncompromising, 
 more terrible than ever. And yet in the depths 
 of his eyes was kindly interest too. 
 
 "Pay attention, Simba," he said. "You have 
 told me that you wanted to be a gunbearer. 
 That is so?" 
 
198 SIMBA 
 
 "Yes, bwana," cried Simba, his heart leaping. 
 He saw himself promoted in recognition of his 
 devotion. 
 
 "And I have told you that there were many 
 things a gunbearer must learn. One of them is 
 that he must never leave his white man." 
 
 "No, bwana" agreed Simba cheerfully. 
 
 "You have left your white man!" accused 
 Kingozi sharply. 
 
 But Simba s logic was still undisturbed. 
 
 "He is not my white man. You are my white 
 man," he said. 
 
 However, Kingozi soon crushed that notion. 
 He delivered the obvious elementary homily on 
 loyalty to an undertaking. Simba understood at 
 last. 
 
 "And now," commanded Kingozi in conclusion. 
 "You must go back to that safari, at once; the 
 way you came. You must go to the headman 
 and you must eat kiboko. If you do not do this 
 thing, then never must you come to me again." 
 
 "But, bwana, when this safari returns, then you 
 will be away on your journey!" wailed Simba. 
 " "That is true," said Kingozi. 
 
THE GUNBEARER 199 
 
 "It will be a long journey?" ventured Sirnba 
 hopefully. 
 
 "Very long," replied Kingozi uncompromis 
 ingly. 
 
 The hope died. 
 
 Simba stood silent for some moments, then 
 he stooped and picked up his bundle. 
 
 "Qua heri, bwana" he said dispiritedly. 
 
 Without further words he turned away. 
 
 Kingozi called Cazi Moto to his side. 
 
 "Follow that young man and see what he does," 
 he commanded. 
 
 Cazi Moto returned within the half hour. 
 
 "Well?" asked Kingozi. 
 
 "He went first to the bazaar," reported Cazi 
 Moto. "He had money. There he bought meal, 
 dried meat, and tobacco." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 "Then he took the road to N Gong, to the 
 country of the Masai." 
 
 Ill 
 
 SIMBA had another devil of a trip back. It is no 
 light task to make one s way alone and unarmed 
 
200 SIMBA 
 
 through a dry country full of hostile men and 
 dangerous beasts. Especially is this true when 
 the heart burns with hurt resentment. You have 
 seen a dog commanded to return home by a master 
 bound for places where dogs are undesired? He 
 goes, but he wonders why. Simba went but he 
 wondered why. And he was so hurt and angry 
 that he was not very far from caring whether he 
 got caught or not. Still he was not so far gone 
 as to omit precautions! He made five days of his 
 journey, then had the good luck to fall in with 
 Government runners. They were safe. At first 
 they refused to have anything to do with Simba; 
 but when they found that he, too, was headed for 
 the encampment of the kingi, they grudgingly 
 allowed him to join them provided he kept up. 
 And then they set a stiff pace just to test that. 
 Simba kept up. Not for nothing had he served 
 his apprenticeship as Trelawney s guard among 
 the Suka. When Trelawney had sent a message 
 he had expected speed. 
 
 Arrived at the encampment Simba reported 
 to his mess, and was promptly taken in charge 
 by the headman of his division. The crime was 
 
THE GUNBEARER 201 
 
 heinous, so in due time he appeared before one 
 of the white men. The latter, exceedingly wearied 
 in spirit by the constant small/ annoyances in 
 cidental to such an unwieldy outfit, listened just 
 long enough to understand the charge, recognized 
 it as one of the temporary desertions so common 
 among safari men, made no attempt to probe 
 further, ordered twenty-five kiboko, and passed 
 on to the next trouble. 
 
 Simba had never before taken punishment. 
 He had seen it, however, and knew what was ex 
 pected of him. He underwent the flogging with 
 out making a sound, and when it was finished 
 sprang to his feet with a grin and a yell. Thereby 
 he gained the respect of the attentive bystanders 
 and of the askari who had laid on; for twenty- 
 five is no light punishment. Sore in body and 
 spirit Simba returned to his mess and resumed 
 his duties. 
 
 The savour had gone out of this expedition. 
 Simba hated every man of the lot, from his Royal 
 Highness down to the cook s toto. He looked 
 with bitter and sneering satisfaction on the rather 
 blundering sportsmanship. He gained no com- 
 
202 S I M B A 
 
 fort from the easy life, the abundant food, the 
 hilarious association with the picked men of his 
 profession. Among the rank and file, of course, 
 was no intimation of how long the expedition was 
 to last, nor whither its itinerary would lead. 
 Simba counted the days grudgingly; resented 
 each mile of progress forward; rejoiced mightily 
 when, as happened several times, the route bent 
 back on an apparent return. And each time the 
 ensuing disappointment rendered him more fiercely 
 sullen. He was not a popular companion. In 
 deed there is no saying that he might not have 
 become a quarrelsome, even a dangerous com 
 panion, had not His Highness through aid 
 tacitly ignored of a hatful of cartridges expended 
 by his white hunters at last decided that he was 
 satisfied. The safari turned back. 
 
 The return to Nairobi seemed interminable 
 but at last it was accomplished. Simba s first act 
 after receiving his rupees was to inquire after 
 Kingozi. He learned that the Fighter of Ele 
 phants, at the head of thirty men only, had three 
 weeks previously started northwest. Nobody 
 JK^w where he was bound or when he would re- 
 
THE GUNBEARER 203 
 
 turn. Then and there Simba came to a resolve. 
 He took his rupees, including those still left over 
 from his former expedition, and with them called 
 upon Ali, the Somali. 
 
 "Here," he said to Ali, "are forty-nine rupees 
 and sixteen pesi. If I keep them they will not 
 last long; I shall play the game with holes, or I 
 shall spend them in the bazaar. Do you keep 
 them for me; and each week when I come to you, 
 do you give me fifty pesi only. In that man 
 ner I may live on my rupees for a long time." 
 
 Ali s thin, expressive face was bent on him in 
 amused comprehension. 
 
 "That shall be done," he agreed, taking the 
 money. "Soon I will have another safari for you." 
 
 "I shall not go on another safari until Bwana 
 Kingozi returns," stated Simba with decision, 
 "for thus once again will I miss going with his 
 safari." 
 
 AH laughed aloud. 
 
 "Nevertheless," he said deliberately, "after 
 three days repose you will come here and I will 
 give you one load of trade goods. This you and 
 another man who knows the way will carry to the 
 
204 SIMBA 
 
 camp of a bwana who is seven days march 
 away." 
 
 "I shall not do this," said Simba sullenly. 
 
 "You will do it," insisted Ali with calm. 
 "Otherwise you may return to your shenzis, for 
 never will you go on safari again, neither that of 
 Bwana Kingozi nor of anyone else." 
 
 Simba chewed the cud of this bitterly. 
 
 "This is only to carry the load to the white 
 man?" he asked at length, "then I may return 
 immediately?" 
 
 "If you care to do so, you may return at 
 once," Ali assured him. 
 
 Simba heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 "7 zuzu !" he assented. 
 
 Ali s face wrinkled in a smile. 
 
 "That is well; there is much baksheeshi" he 
 said, "the bwana has arranged it." 
 
 Two days later Simba started out with the one 
 load of trade goods and the other man. The 
 latter proved to be a silent, uncommunicative crea 
 ture. He not only refused to indicate the route or 
 the destination, but he declined to talk at all. 
 He might be dumb. After fifty friendly attempts 
 
THE GUNBEARER 205 
 
 Simba became disgusted and himself relapsed into 
 unbroken silence. It was all of a piece with the 
 same disheartening business. The world was 
 sombre with annoyance and bad luck. He made 
 his marches doggedly, his camps resentfully. As 
 to the country, he paid attention in view of his 
 return journey alone which he resolved would 
 be very promptly undertaken. They took turns 
 carrying the load. 
 
 Because of his frame of mind Simba was not 
 inclined to permit of much lingering on the road. 
 He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible: 
 and he made up his mind that, once back in 
 the bazaars, Ali would have very little to say as 
 to his future movements. Ordinarily unsuper- 
 vised natives on such an errand as this take 
 their own good time to it. Through a peace 
 able country they proceed just as slowly as they 
 dare, making sociable visits on the way, stopping 
 with friends. But this dour pair travelled at ex 
 press rate. 
 
 As a consequence, the afternoon of the fifth day 
 found them surmounting a long low ridge from 
 which was visible the meandering line of green 
 
206 SIMBA 
 
 that marked out a water course through a thorny 
 and arid land. Simba s companion stopped and 
 pointed to irregularly placed dots of white. 
 
 "Campi ya bwana," he announced. 
 
 They descended the rocky slope, crossed the 
 bottom land, and so came to the tents. Simba 
 looked them over with but slight interest. He 
 saw that it was a small safari. However, the de 
 tails were to him a matter of profound indifference. 
 He intended to get out of that just as soon as he 
 could. 
 
 It happened to be his turn to carry the load. 
 With the idea of getting the whole thing over at 
 once, he made his way directly to the green double 
 tent of the white man. Its owner was seated in 
 front beneath the fly. Simba could make out his 
 legs. He carried the load around to the entrance, 
 eased it to the ground, and looked up sullenly 
 to meet Kingozi s amused eyes. 
 
 "Bwana I" gasped Simba; and remained star 
 ing. 
 
 "Jambo, Simba," greeted Kingozi. "So you 
 have come. That means that you have faithfully 
 performed your cazi with the great bwana; for 
 
THE GUNBEARER 207 
 
 I commanded All that only if you returned to that 
 safari and did your duty well were, you to be sent 
 on to me." 
 
 Simba s dazed eyes turned. He saw his late 
 travelling companion grinning at his elbow. He 
 saw his old envy, Cazi Moto, in the background 
 likewise grinning. He looked down at the load 
 he had carried. 
 
 "Open it," commanded Kingozi. 
 
 Simba, still dazed, fumblingly undid the cords. 
 On top of a number of packages lay a complete 
 khaki uniform, a new hat, a leather belt, a shiny 
 new knife, a sharpening stone in a sheath, blue 
 spiral puttees , a felt-covered water bottle, and a 
 magnificent genuine three-rupee blanket. Kin 
 gozi was speaking: 
 
 "Ali told you that you could return after bring 
 ing in this load. Do you wish to do so, or do you 
 wish to join my safari ? " 
 
 "Let me stay with you, bwana" 
 
 "Very well," said Kingozi, a very kindly smile 
 illuminating his ordinarily grave countenance. 
 "In that case take these things lying before you. 
 They are yours." 
 
SIMBA 
 
 "Mine, bwana ?" repeated Simba wonderingly. 
 There must be some mistake. These were of a 
 magnificence beyond the hope of any one but a 
 Cazi Moto. 
 
 "Yours," said Kingozi. He reached back his 
 hand, and Cazi Moto laid in it the light rifle of 
 everyday shooting. Kingozi in turn held it out 
 to Simba. " Clean this carefully," he said casually. 
 "It has been shot to-day. The cleaning things 
 are in your tent." 
 
 Simba took the weapon reverently. Even yet 
 he did not understand. 
 
 "I have made Cazi Moto the headman of all 
 my affairs," said Kingozi, seeing this. "Here 
 after you shall be my gunbearer." 
 
 Late that evening the deep silence that Kin- 
 gozi s command of kalele had imposed upon the 
 camp was broken by a high, wavering falsetto of 
 joyous song. It was suddenly hushed by Kin- 
 gozi s stern summons. Cazi Moto glided to the 
 tent. 
 
 "Who dared disobey my order?" demanded 
 Kingozi. 
 
THE GUNBEARER 209 
 
 "It was Simba who said he forgot," replied 
 Cazi Moto. " Shall he be punished? " 
 
 "What do you think, Cazi Moto?" asked 
 Kingozi. 
 
 "I think he is very young and his heart is 
 happy," replied little wizened old Cazi Moto. 
 
 "I think, so, too," said Kingozi with a sigh. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 MUTUAL RESPECT 
 
 SIMBA, gunbearer to Kingozi the Master 
 with the Beard, alias the Fighter of 
 Elephants, alias John Culbertson sat 
 taking his ease on the veranda of the inn belong 
 ing to that Somali publican known as Suleimani 
 the Blind. He sat in a real chair and near his right 
 hand stood a cup of real tea. Simba had just 
 returned from an eight months trip into the 
 French Congo, eight months of heat, thirst, fever, 
 cruel marches, wild savages, sleepless vigilance, 
 utter patience, and the cold, long fear of the 
 elephant forest. Only the day before the caravan 
 had marched into town, inconceivably ragged, but 
 with heads up, voices chanting, safari sticks tap- 
 tap-tapping the burdens, each man bedecked with 
 ostrich plumes, bits of skin, bright ornaments 
 carried hidden all these months. It was a wonder 
 ful moment! The chant swelled grandly, the 
 
 210 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 211 
 
 oryx-horn trumpets blared. Little naked children 
 ran alongside shouting, men of alj tribes came to 
 the street, and the women had made eyes from 
 the doorways. A grand moment! Bwana Kingozi 
 had marched ahead, his heavy shoulders stooped, 
 as always; his eyes staring, apparently sightless, 
 straight ahead; his beard thrust forward by the 
 aggression of his jaw; the glasses swinging 
 rhythmically across his great chest; the light rifle 
 resting in the hollow of his arm. And then he, 
 Simba, gunbearer, with Bunduki M Kubwa, the 
 great elephant gun! After that, of course, the 
 safari. 
 
 At the corner of the bazaar another bwana 
 addressed Kingozi, and the parade halted. Simba 
 understood not one word, but he knew pas 
 sionately that high converse was forward. He 
 stood proudly at attention, his head high, his fierce 
 eyes rolling. 
 
 "Hello, Culbertson," the white man had said, 
 "are you godfather to this bally circus parade?" 
 
 "These are my special pet lunatics," Kingozi 
 had replied. "They had a hard trip and I can t 
 begrudge them this fun." 
 
SIMBA 
 
 "I know," said the other sympathetically, 
 "makes a man feel like a silly ass just the same. 
 My sympathy. You ve got a topping lot of ivory. 
 Where you been? " 
 
 "French Congo." 
 
 And the procession had resumed its triumphal 
 course. 
 
 In the big tin go-down the well-wrapped tusks 
 and the battered camp equipment had been 
 deposited. Then from an incredible sack of silver 
 rupees each man had been paid his due, and an 
 appropriate backsheeshi, and had eagerly departed 
 for the alluring bazaar. So it is the whole world 
 over miner, cowboy, lumber-jack, trapper, pros 
 pector, safari-man wanderers of the wild and 
 lonely places. When they hit town they go out 
 for a "time." The reaction is exactly propor 
 tionate to the strain that has been. With the 
 eager lust for celebration burning in their hearts 
 the Africans scurried away. 
 
 And their idea of the most gorgeous, soul- 
 satisfying, extraordinary contrast, corresponding 
 to the roulette-whiskey-woman combination of 
 their wilderness brothers elsewhere, was this: 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 213 
 
 they who had squatted on their heels, to sit in 
 a white man s chair; they who ,had looked up 
 from the lowly places, to look down lordly upon 
 the passing throng from the elevation of a bona- 
 fide raised veranda; they who had eaten of 
 straight corn-meal potio and saltless wild meat, to 
 drink that unattainable, daily desirable, symbolic, 
 forbidden, unhoped-for tea just like a white man! 
 Debauch is usually violent reaction against the 
 monotonous accustomed. This was the safari- 
 man s debauch! 
 
 Supply follows demand. A lumber or mining 
 or cow town is often little more than a collection 
 of saloons, gambling dens, or disreputable houses. 
 So the Somali quarter of the bazaar consisted 
 largely of wide, high, and open verandas backed 
 by mere apologies for houses furnished with 
 lounging chairs and tea tables. Here, dressed in 
 snowy white kanzua, the professional safari-m&n 
 lolled at a price like unto the price of "forty-rod 
 whiskey" out West. When his last cent was 
 gone he looked for another job. Which is all 
 rather childlike and a little touching, is H 
 not? 
 
2i 4; SIMBA 
 
 II 
 
 SIMBA, fresh his eight months, was unbelievably 
 wealthy. Gunbearers wages are very high. But 
 then gunbearers are a caste, with an especial and 
 cunning knowledge of game, of tracking, of the 
 proper cleaning of guns, skinning of specimens, 
 butchering of meat, pitching of tents, and a 
 hundred other such matters. They are called 
 upon to risk their lives rather frequently. ? Such 
 matters as staunchness, loyalty, and absolute 
 courage are taken for granted. To fail in any of 
 these things is not only a disgrace to one s self but 
 one s professional mates who are a proud, heavy- 
 handed, and vindictive lot. \ One may not lightly 
 become a gunbearer even by the taking of thought 
 for there are a dozen requisites that have little to 
 do with thought such as passionate loyalty, for 
 example. Simba was one of the best. He com 
 manded the equivalent of eight dollars a month. 
 Even at the prevailing cost of high living chez 
 Suleimani the Blind this would last for some time. 
 So he smoked and sipped his tea and chattered 
 with other gunbearers, and cast glances of scorn 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 215 
 
 at the passersby respectfully adoring of his high 
 estate. He felt, after the terrible days of the 
 French Congo, that he could stand quite a little of 
 this. 
 
 But now came to him a Kavirondo boy, very 
 black, his bullet head shaved to a kinky skull-cap. 
 Having gone stark naked all his life he here 
 looked on clothes as ornamental merely, so wore 
 his own mainly around his neck. He gazed 
 fixedly on Simba until that exalted personage 
 deigned to break his discourse. 
 
 "What is it, shenzi?"* inquired Simba at 
 length in Swahili. 
 
 "A white man at the hotel has sent out for 
 you." 
 
 "I am taking my rest. Why should I go 
 because some white man sends?" demanded 
 Simba, for the benefit of the others on the veranda. 
 "What white man?" 
 
 " I do not know him. He is strange here. He is 
 a man who walks so; and he wears a black beard! " 
 
 "But you are indeed a shenzi !" cried Simba, 
 scandalized, "and have not been long from the 
 
 *Shenzi wildman, savage. 
 
216 SIMBA 
 
 jungle. The very dogs know Bwana Kingozi, 
 the Fighter of the Elephant! It is true," he told 
 the other gunbearers, "that he and I are as the 
 fingers on one hand." 
 
 "A-a-a-a!" they murmured politely. 
 
 Simba rose, a commanding figure in his snow- 
 white kanzua and lace-like skull-cap, his ugly 
 honest face, with its fierce eyes, informed with 
 savage dignity. The Kavirondo, his message de 
 livered, had promptly disappeared. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE one-storied stone hotel was set back from 
 the shaded street. It, too, possessed a veranda, 
 but near the level of the ground. Europeans in 
 cool-looking tropic white sat in teak-wood lazy 
 chairs. Simba made his way through the mob of 
 noisy, chattering rickshaw boys. A monkey 
 sprang from before his step; he avoided carefully 
 the snuffing nose of a dog; he cast a glance at a 
 chained baboon and a strolling month-old lion 
 cub. Catching sight of his master s black beard 
 he came to a halt and waited. After a few mo 
 ments Kingozi called him and he approached. 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 217 
 
 Kingozi sat between a man and a woman. 
 They were both young and very good-looking, 
 though Simba would not have acknowledged the 
 second point. To him they looked anaemic, 
 bloodless, like grubs dug out of a log. The 
 woman s opinion of Simba s appearance may be 
 gathered from her first remark. 
 
 "This is the man," Kingozi said. 
 
 The woman s slender, elegantly gowned form 
 shivered slightly. 
 
 "But he is so ugly!" she protested, in a clear, 
 penetrating, domineering voice; "he looks posi 
 tively evil. Are you certain of him? I should 
 say he is a robber and a thief and a murderer and 
 all that." 
 
 "I say!" protested the young man in his turn. 
 "Perhaps the blighter understands English!" 
 
 "What of it? Does he?" she asked Kingozi. 
 
 "No," replied the latter drily. "I assure you, 
 Lady Clarice, he is none of the things you name; 
 but the most reliable man I could get you in all 
 Africa." 
 
 "Jolly strong praise, that," said the man. 
 "But you should know, Culbertson. But I m 
 
2i8 SIMBA 
 
 frightfully dashed that you can t go with us your 
 self. Glenmore led me to believe, you know, that 
 you did that sort of thing occasionally, don t you 
 
 see? And " he hesitated. "If a matter of 
 
 a hundred pound or so a month might stand in the 
 way 
 
 "It does not," broke in Kingozi curtly. "I 
 assure you, Lord Kilgour, if it were possible I 
 would accompany you. But Simba, here, 
 knows the country better than I do myself. He 
 is thoroughly competent to handle your men, and 
 a trained gunbearer, in the bargain. I will, 
 however, assist you with your outfit and supplies, 
 and will direct you to good country." He turned 
 to Simba and began to talk Swahili. "Listen 
 carefully. This bwana and this memsahib are 
 very great rulers in their country. They have 
 come to kill meat. The one who is my Bwana 
 M Kubwa has told me that they must have good 
 hunting. Therefore it is necessary that you go. 
 Get Cazi Moto for headman. That this is hard 
 I know well. Money is hot and the pouch is thin. 
 This is not a command I lay on you. But I wish 
 it." 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 219 
 
 From before Simba s eyes faded the dreams of 
 luxuries that had grown during long months. 
 Nevertheless he replied steadily: 
 
 "I will go, bwana" 
 
 "Vema" Kingozi uttered the simple word of 
 highest possible praise. " Come to-morrow in the 
 third hour." 
 
 "How many men, bwana ?" 
 
 "Who knows? But speak in the villages that 
 many may come, for I think many may be re 
 quired." 
 
 "I say," broke in Lord Kilgour, "and be sure to 
 tell the blighter to take us where there are plenty 
 of lions! I m frightfully keen on lions, you 
 know." 
 
 "Lions are chancy beasts for an unaccustomed 
 man to hunt without backing," Kingozi suggested 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "Rex is a topping shot and cool as ice," the 
 woman interjected with a faint trace of pride. 
 
 "You ll yourself find the work rather rough," 
 Kingozi hinted to her. 
 
 "I fancy not," she replied idly. 
 
 Kingozi arose abruptly. 
 
220 SI MB A 
 
 "Well, get your luggage together, please. 
 Have it all ready for my inspection to-morrow 
 morning at nine. We will then go into de 
 tails." 
 
 He bowed first to one and then to the other. 
 
 "Bassi!" he dismissed Simba, and turned in to 
 the bar. 
 
 There he encountered the white man who had 
 met him in procession that morning. 
 
 "I want another. Join me?" 
 
 They sipped at their drinks. 
 
 "Mac," said Kingozi, "I am a brute and a dog. 
 Old Glenmore recommended me some people on 
 their wedding trip who are out here shooting, 
 and I m dodging the job. They want to start 
 right out; and I feel I need a breathing spell after 
 this last trip. So I m turning em over to Simba, 
 and am staying home in idle luxury." 
 
 McCloud s eyes twinkled. 
 
 "I ve seen them," he remarked drily. "Nat 
 urally you need a rest." 
 
 As they raised their glasses, their eyes met. 
 An unwitting and shamefaced grin parted Kin- 
 gozi s lips. 
 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 221 
 
 IV 
 
 SIMBA did not return to the bazaar. He walked 
 at once to the villages of round bee-hive huts in 
 the environs of white man s town. There various 
 polite and polished youths, after listening calmly 
 to what he had to say, suddenly broke into ex 
 traordinary activity, running from hut to hut, 
 shouting cazi! cazi ! cazi ! at the top of their lungs. 
 The immediate result was an outpouring of would- 
 be bearers, men who had shone their brief wage- 
 possessing hour at the bazaars, and now, stony- 
 broke, were awaiting in eclipse for a new job. 
 Simba lined them up and looked them over. He 
 examined their muscles, their joints, their teeth, 
 and especially their feet. In this manner he 
 weeded out the unfit and instructed the others to 
 report at the go-down the following morning. 
 
 In the meantime other agencies, through Kin- 
 gozi, had been at work. Horses were brought in 
 and inspected; tents laid out and repaired; uten 
 sils of all sorts collected. By the time Lord Kil- 
 gour, the following morning, sauntered to the 
 meeting place, a safari was well under way. 
 
222 SIMBA 
 
 And the following day it took the field. It was 
 such a safari as Simba approved. There were 
 seven tin officers boxes of private effects; and two 
 loads of ammunition; and twenty chop boxes 
 containing the rare and mysterious viands pecu 
 liar to the white man; and a four-load green tent; 
 tables, chairs, folding baths. The white man and 
 the white woman each rode a bona-fide horse, 
 not a mule; and each horse had its personal 
 attendant. Besides Simba were also two lesser 
 gunbearers and skinners. Then there was the 
 Goanese cook and his helper; and in the rear 
 wizened, wise little Cazi Moto with his rhinoceros- 
 hide whip. And other carriers, many many car 
 riers, bearing sacks of potio ground corn-meal 
 with which to feed all the rest. Each man wore a 
 brand-new jersey and carried turban-wise about 
 his head a bright new blanket. They strung out 
 across the landscape, near two hundred of them, 
 in a long, imposing, colourful, and noisy pro 
 cession. From the top of a rise Simba looked 
 back upon them with approval swelling his bar 
 baric heart. This was a safari worthy of a great 
 bwana. And the rifles he and his companions 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 223 
 
 carried were also worthy; and the general gorgeous 
 row and cumbersomeness of it all appealed to him 
 as entirely fitting and significant. This unrec 
 onciled with the fact that Kingozi was with him 
 an article of religious faith, and that Kingozi 
 generally travelled with about thirty ragged men. 
 
 No mention has been made of two youths who 
 walked free and unencumbered, save by a lantern 
 apiece, immediately behind the gunbearers. 
 They were high-headed, sleek, suave young men, 
 dressed in neat khaki tunics and shirts, and sport 
 ing red tarbouches with silken tassels. Ordi 
 narily Simba liked the very efficient citizens 
 known as tent boys, but these were different. It 
 had, of course, been necessary to find inter 
 mediaries who could talk English, and the mis 
 sion school proved the only source. Simba noted 
 mission boys in general; and he particularly de 
 spised these two. They called themselves Josef 
 and Tom. 
 
 As yet Simba had not seriously considered the 
 white people who were the necessary cause of all 
 this prideful display. They rode ahead and were 
 satisfactorily gorgeous in sports clothes; and that 
 
224 SIMBA 
 
 was sufficient. He headed across the undulating 
 veldt toward the Maji Quenda. 
 
 IT WAS four days march through native cul 
 tivation before the edge of the game country was 
 reached. In that time Simba came in for a num 
 ber of adjustments and learned that pomp and 
 vanity must often pay its costs. 
 
 For example, it was impossible to get started 
 near sunrise, as is desirable. The porters camps 
 were struck and packed, the loads made up, the 
 men squatting on their heels. But within the tent 
 of the memsahib long and mysterious rites went 
 on. The sun came up, waxed in strength. And 
 only at the long last did she emerge. Privately 
 urged, Josef said that he duly awakened hei 
 before sunrise, as is the custom; that her hot water 
 was promptly delivered; and that he, Josef, model 
 of virtues, was not to blame. But it threw the 
 march into the heat of the day; it finished the 
 journey so late that necessary tasks were awk 
 wardly timed. Several men, with souls beneath 
 pomp and pride, dumped their loads and deserted, 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 225 
 
 Simba and Cazi Moto, after consultation, took 
 aside the deserters friends and gave them ten 
 apiece with the kiboko. The justice of this was 
 obscure, but the results admirable. 
 
 Between them Simba and Cazi Moto managed 
 to keep things going; though such complication 
 as the necessity of stopping at noon for a lunch 
 brought wrinkles to their already furrowed brows. 
 The men grumbled but stuck, for they had been 
 promised a permanent camp on the Maji Quenda 
 and much meat. 
 
 So it happened at the end of the fourth day. 
 The double green tent was pitched on a height 
 overlooking the long, sluggish, picturesque reaches 
 of the stream. In a semicircle at a discreet dis 
 tance stood the tiny porters tents each with a 
 tittle flickering fire burning in front of it. Men 
 were dumping down armfuls of wood for the night 
 guard-fire. Two motionless figures, their heads 
 bedecked with ostrich plumes, leaned on muskets. 
 In the gathering twilight the veldt stretched wide 
 and mysterious, and from it came multitudinous 
 sounds of beasts. 
 
 The safari had as usual arrived late; but even 
 
226 SIMBA 
 
 so, after crossing the river, Lord Kilgour and his 
 lady had seen small herds of game grazing in the 
 distance down through the trees. Lord Kilgour 
 had become immensely excited. He was keen to 
 start right out; but Simba shook his head, and 
 even Lady Clarice saw the point. 
 
 " Don t be silly ! " she said, " it s going on to dusk, 
 and very presently it will be quite dark. You ll 
 get yourself eaten or something absurd." 
 
 As soon as the evening meal was over Kilgour 
 called Simba and Josef to interpret. 
 
 "Tell him," said Kilgour to Josef, "that we 
 shall go hunting in the morning." 
 
 "He says," replied Josef, presently, "that to 
 hunt in the morning it must be that you arise 
 very early." Josef was justly proud of his 
 English. 
 
 "How early?" 
 
 "He says when the light comes." 
 
 "You will not be going with us then, my dear," 
 suggested Kilgour deprecatingly. 
 
 "I certainly cannot be expected to get up any 
 earlier than I do now," replied Lady Clarice. 
 "I begin to dress by candlelight as it is." 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 227 
 
 "But if, my dear, for the especial occasion, 
 you could as little abridge your toilet " 
 
 "If you expect me to ruin my complexion on 
 account of this rather absurd expedition," said 
 Lady Clarice. "Why in the world cannot you 
 do your shooting in the afternoon?" 
 
 "I m frightfully keen to get out." 
 
 "So am I," said Lady Clarice, smothering a 
 yawn. 
 
 It was arranged that the first hunt was to take 
 place the following afternoon. 
 
 "And I wish you d leave that ugly brute," re 
 quested Lady Clarice, referring to Simba. "He 
 gives me the shivers." 
 
 But Kilgour became suddenly obstinate. 
 
 "Oh, I say!" he cried, "that s a bit thick, you 
 know. This chap is my stand-by ! Culbertson 
 especially recommends him. He knows the game, 
 and I don t. You must remember that, my dear." 
 
 "Why not the other two gunbearers?" 
 
 "I don t know a blessed thing about them. 
 You must remember, my dear, that this is a 
 dangerous country, highly dangerous. Things pop 
 out at you right and left. It s jumpy business!" 
 
228 SIMBA 
 
 She looked at him curiously. 
 
 "Very well," she agreed at last. 
 
 They rode out across the veldt the following 
 afternoon, the two whites followed by the gun- 
 bearers; and then, at a distance, a dozen porters 
 to bring in the meat. Game was everywhere in 
 sight but none too easy of approach. After a 
 tune Kilgour dismounted, and, followed by Simba, 
 attempted a stalk. The white woman and the 
 syces and the other gunbearers watched from an 
 eminence; and the porters squatted in a compact 
 little group a hundred yards back. The object 
 of the approach was a half-dozen hartebeeste. 
 Kilgour had shot stags in Scotland and made a 
 rather good stalk. At about forty rods range he 
 missed clean. 
 
 The shot was not difficult. A dull red over 
 spread his countenance, and he glanced covertly 
 at Simba. Simba s face was inscrutable. The 
 miss meant nothing to him. He had seen many 
 bwanas do exactly that same thing at first in this 
 country. In fact, he had never seen any newcomer 
 do anything different. Sometimes it took the 
 shots several days to become accustomed 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 229 
 
 to the strange light. Simba reloaded and handed 
 the rifle back. 
 
 The hartebeeste had run a half mile and had 
 joined a herd of zebra and wildebeeste. Kilgour 
 began a second stalk. He did very well, but the 
 animals were more alert and the cover none 
 too good. It is more difficult to stalk fifty animals 
 than a dozen. At two hundred and fifty yards, 
 warned of imminent flight, growing uneasiness, 
 Kilgour was forced to shoot, again unsuccessfully. 
 
 There is no use going into painful details. The 
 little procession returned at dusk unburdened. 
 
 Kilgour was savagely irritated. His many 
 misses, barring the first, were readily excusable 
 on account of the ranges. He had been unable 
 to make nearer approaches. And that, he had 
 persuaded himself, was Simba s fault. 
 
 "If that blighter would quit dogging my heels," 
 he cried to Lady Clarice. "I tried to send him 
 back, but he paid no attention to me! How 
 can two men expect to get near " 
 
 "I told you to leave him in camp," said Lady 
 Clarice in a faintly amused voice. 
 
 Simba at the gunbearers fire cleaned the rifle 
 
2 3 o SIMBA 
 
 philosophically. No meat was a great disap 
 pointment to everybody; but to-morrow*- 
 
 VI 
 
 KILGOUR improved his shooting. Shortly he 
 had no difficulty whatever in getting enough meat 
 to keep everybody happy. Life fell into a routine. 
 Each day they rode abroad in a wide circle. 
 Sometimes they explored the wide, undulating 
 plains, resembling a great sea, with wild beasts 
 resting like gulls in the hollows of the waves. 
 Again they crept afoot down the game trails 
 through the forests, where the rope vines swung, 
 the parrots and bright-coloured birds flashed, the 
 monkeys and the colobus chattered. Or perhaps, 
 again afoot, they made their way down the nar 
 row river- jungle where they heard the queer cry 
 of the bushbuck or the hollow bellowing of the 
 hippopotami. Then toward sundown they swung 
 back to their camp, bathed and changed, and had 
 tea. When one section of the country had beeu 
 thus well-ridden, they moved camp five or ten 
 miles. 
 
 The white man hunted diligently and keenly, 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 231 
 
 his interest and confidence increasing day by day. 
 The woman always rode out on every hunt. 
 She rarely dismounted, save where the forest or 
 jungle forced on her such a course; but sat her 
 horse, erect, faintly smiling, as though with hidden 
 amusement, offering lightly congratulations on 
 success whose faintly ironic quality was lost on 
 the perceptions of her spouse. She still manifested 
 a scornful, careless hostility toward Simba. 
 
 "He is a sullen brute," she had decided. 
 
 Simba was not sullen, however. He was merely 
 doing his duty as thoroughly and conscientiously 
 as he knew how. His interest in this bwana was 
 professional not personal. 
 
 Game there was aplenty. Kilgour acquired 
 some quite respectable heads. But by one of 
 those strange freaks of hunters luck he failed to 
 encounter either elephant, lion, rhinoceros, or 
 buffalo the Big Four of dangerous wild game. 
 He saw tracks of them all; and every night the 
 lions roared grandly. As is always the case his 
 eagerness grew with the postponement of his 
 desires until he was fairly aquiver to try his 
 mettle. 
 
232 SIMBA 
 
 And, again as is usual, the first encounter was 
 totally unexpected. From apparently a per 
 fectly flat plain, without cover enough to conceal 
 a rabbit, there materialized the bulk of a rhi 
 noceros, not thirty yards distant. He had been 
 sleeping in an unexpected hollow filled with deeper 
 grass. Lowering his horn he promptly charged. 
 
 Kilgour and Simba were afoot and some twenty 
 yards ahead of the others. A rhinoceros charging 
 at close range is a terrifying spectacle to one who 
 has never seen it before. The beast is larger 
 than one has expected and very much quicker. 
 It utters a series of loud snorts like steam escap 
 ing from a locomotive exhaust; its great weight 
 seems to jar the earth; and its momentum ap 
 pears irresistible. All the porters unanimously 
 took to some very spiky thorn trees. Lady 
 Clarice tightened the reins of her terrorized horse, 
 and sat more erect than ever. Simba, shoving 
 ahead the safety catch, held the heavy double 
 rifle next Kilgour s right elbow. Kilgour, para 
 lyzed by the suddenness and unexpectedness 
 of the onslaught, stood, his mouth open, and did 
 nothing. 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 233 
 
 " Piga, bwana /" urged Simba, then, as Kilgour 
 still stared helpless, he darted ten feet to one 
 side and waved his arms. 
 
 The dim-sighted rhinoceros, abandoning the 
 still figure, swerved toward the one in motion. 
 Simba waited bolt upright until the huge beast 
 was within a few feet, then twisted sidewise and 
 dropped into the long grass. It was a very near 
 thing. The rhinoceros blundered on though, 
 and then, as is often the case, kept on going, 
 straight ahead, until he had disappeared over the 
 near rise of land. 
 
 The porters, with groans, began gingerly to 
 come down the spike trees they had so blithely 
 ascended. Lady Clarice rode forward. Kilgour 
 seemed to come to with a start. 
 
 "By Jove!" he muttered, and again, "by 
 Jove!" He drew a deep breath and looked about 
 him as though bewildered. His hands were 
 trembling slightly, but the colour came back to 
 his face in a surge. 
 
 "You re not a pretty sight," said the woman in 
 her high, clear voice, "why didn t you shoot the 
 beast?" 
 
234 SIMBA 
 
 "It was so deuced sudden," said Kilgour 
 deprecatingly, "who d have thought one of the 
 bally beasts would be out there! Why, it s as 
 flat as your hand! I was startled out of my 
 senses. I never thought of my gun at all, I give 
 you my word!" 
 
 She examined him for a moment and then 
 relented. 
 
 "I daresay it was rather a facer, the first off," 
 she said carelessly, "I daresay you ll pot the 
 next one right enough." 
 
 "You re right," Lord Kilgour assured her fer 
 vently. "Won t catch me napping again ! What? " 
 
 "Where s the other fool?" she asked abruptly. 
 "No excuse for him. Why didn t you shoot?" 
 
 She asked the question of Simba in pantomime 
 not to be misunderstood. 
 
 "Hapana distauri yangu"* replied Simba. 
 
 She did not understand the words, but she 
 stared at the man with a faint but real respect. 
 His ugly face was transformed by an inner fire of 
 dignity. For in the brief phrase he had voiced the 
 fierce pride of caste that made him what he was. 
 
 *It is not my custom. 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 235 
 
 Immediately on the return to camp she sum 
 moned Josef to interpret. 
 
 "He says that it is not his custom to shoot 
 the gun." 
 
 "Cannot he shoot?" 
 
 Simba s nostrils widened and his eyes flashed. 
 
 "He says he was taught the shooting by Bwana 
 Kingozi, the one who fights the elephants." 
 
 "Well?" demanded Lady Clarice sharply. 
 
 But Josef took upon himself the burden of 
 explanation. 
 
 "Memsahib" said he, "it is forbidden ever 
 that the gunbearer should shoot the gun that he 
 carries unless it is that the bwana lies upon the 
 ground and is chewed upon by the animal. This 
 is distauri (custom). And if the gunbearer ever 
 shoots the gun, then all gunbearers call him 
 m buzi. I do not know that word in English: it 
 is a bad word." 
 
 "Suppose," suggested the white woman, "that 
 the rhinoceros had caught this man, would he 
 not shoot?" 
 
 A rapid interchange in Swahili. 
 
 "Simba says," translated Josef, "that it is the 
 
236 SIMBA 
 
 business of the gunbearer to load the gun; it is 
 the business of the bwana to shoot the gun and 
 to kiU the beast." 
 
 "That will do," she said abruptly. 
 
 VII 
 
 SIMBA made nothing of it one way or another. 
 His respect for white men as a race, and his 
 experience with new hunters as a class, minimized 
 the incident for him. The unknown is always 
 startling. Soon a man learned what to ex 
 pect. 
 
 But as time went on it became evident that 
 Lord Kilgour belonged to that unfortunate class of 
 hunters on whom the mere presence of dangerous 
 game reacts badly. His minor coordinations 
 were beyond his control. It was not excitement; 
 it was certainly not fear; it was just nerves! No 
 longer did sudden and gigantic eruptions of 
 hostile creatures startle him to impotency; and 
 never did he fail to walk courageously up to any 
 animal that awaited his more deliberate attack. 
 But always in such circumstances he was super 
 normal. His weapon was unsteady, his frame 
 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 237 
 
 atremble, and his reactions in an emergency 
 utterly instinctive. That is all very well if a 
 man s instincts have been trained by experience 
 to react in the most efficient directions. 
 
 For a long time no real emergency developed. 
 One day they followed fresh buffalo spoor until 
 they came up with a little band resting through 
 the heat. Then they crawled painfully down the 
 the bed of a donga, the sun beating them un 
 mercifully on the back, and lay for three hours 
 awaiting the evening movement of the beasts. A 
 half hour before sundown the great black bulks 
 stirred, emerged from the thicket, and filed 
 leisurely by, broadside on, about sixty yards away. 
 Kilgour, lying belly down against the slope of an 
 anthill, took an elbow rest and missed clean 
 with both barrels of the heavy rifle! It was 
 incredible! A buffalo bull presents a shoulder 
 mark nearly five feet square! 
 
 And a rhinoceros, head on, at not above forty 
 yards; and a leopard winding sinuously through 
 the river- jungle! The woman watched these 
 performances without comment. Simba, his ex 
 pression unchanged, fulfilled all his duties. 
 
238 SIMBA 
 
 Kilgour was no analyst. He knew merely that 
 he was not afraid. His emotion of shame was 
 expressed in disgust at the poor quality of his 
 shooting. 
 
 "I can t understand it! Rotten luck!" he 
 complained. "I seem to get any amount of this 
 common trash, but when anything worth while 
 comes on, I make the most awful ass of myself! 
 Too keen, I suppose. Can t seem to steady down 
 when I really want a thing a lot." 
 
 His wife said nothing. 
 
 As yet they had not caught even a distant 
 glimpse of lion. Then one day, while riding 
 leisurely along the high slopes of a thin bush- veldt, 
 they saw in the middle distance four strange 
 animals rise from the grass and gallop slowly and 
 rather lumberingly away. They were lions, but 
 the idea of lions occurred to neither of the white 
 people. These stood higher out of the grass, 
 looking as tall, indeed, as zebras carried them 
 selves differently, ran queerly in short, were not 
 in the least leonine. Kilgour sat staring after 
 them, his mind paralyzed by a chaos of surprise. 
 He was aroused by Simba, dragging from his 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 239 
 
 grasp the light rifle, and thrusting at him the 
 heavier weapon. 
 
 "Simba, bwana, Simba !" hissed the gunbearer. 
 
 Kilgour knew this Swahili word. A sudden fit 
 of excitement seized him. He clapped spurs to 
 his mount and dashed in pursuit. 
 
 Now Kilgour had been carefully coached in the 
 proper method to run lions. He must not follow 
 directly behind, but on a parallel course off one 
 flank; for when the beast turned suddenly he 
 must have room to step and swerve. He must 
 keep at least a hundred and fifty yards away, for 
 the same reason. When the lion whirled and 
 charged, as he would certainly do, the rider must 
 turn and run away at the best speed of his mount. 
 Only when the lion, angered at this futile game, 
 sat down in the grass to await the next move, 
 must the rider dismount; and then never nearer 
 than two hundred yards. 
 
 The flame of Kilgour s wild excitement swept 
 his brain clear of this knowledge. He saw the 
 lion running away, and he chased it as hard and 
 as fast as he could. 
 
 The country was rough. Thrice his mount 
 
240 S I M B A 
 
 nearly fell. He was hardly aware of it, nor of the 
 fact that he had jerked it roughly to its feet. 
 His whole attention was fixed on the tawny bodies 
 of the lions rising and falling steadily as they loped 
 through the scattered bushes. They were not going 
 very fast, and he quickly shortened the distance. 
 
 A lion is no great hand at running away. He 
 soon becomes both short of breath and angry. 
 Then, without warning, he whirls and charges his 
 pursuer. 
 
 One of these lions did precisely that. And 
 Kilgour, instead of fleeing as fast as his horse 
 could carry him, pulled up his mount and leaped 
 to the ground. 
 
 A lion in full charge covers ground at about the 
 rate of a hundred yards in seven seconds. He does 
 not bound along, but runs like a very eager dog in 
 pursuit of a thrown stick. Also he roars loudly. 
 Kilgour consumed time in bringing his horse to 
 a stop, in dismounting, and in coming to the 
 position of ready. He emerged from the hasty 
 confusion of these activities to find the lion com 
 ing strong and very close so much closer than 
 he had expected, or, indeed, than seemed possible, 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 241 
 
 that the surprise and flurry of it paralyzed him for 
 three seconds. Then he hastily raised his rifle, 
 whereupon his horse which of course he should 
 have abandoned jerked back on its reins. Kil- 
 gour received a tremendous blow on his chest, and 
 found himself lying beneath a crushing weight. 
 
 Before Simba, at the beginning of all this, had 
 passed up the heavy rifle, he had reached for the 
 lighter in exchange. Kilgour, however, in the con 
 centration of pursuit had held his grip just long 
 enough to drag the smaller rifle from Simba s 
 grasp. It fell to the ground. Simba, running 
 alongside the pony with the other rifle, was forced 
 to leave it. When Kilgour, armed, had at last 
 dashed away, Simba looked back to see the second 
 gunbearer pick up the abandoned weapon. There 
 fore he kept on. 
 
 Simba was a good runner. He managed for 
 fifty yards to keep close to Lady Clarice s horse. 
 She motioned with her riding whip and slightly 
 checked her mount. Simba seized her stirrup 
 leather. So when the lion charged the two of 
 them were within the hundred yards and were able 
 .to see clearly what happened. 
 
242 SIMBA 
 
 Lord Kilgour, hit In the chest, was knocked flat 
 on his back. The heavy cork sun helmet jerked 
 forward to his chest. The lion, digging the claws 
 of one paw into his shoulder, crunched the empty 
 helmet once in his powerful jaws, then raised his 
 head to stare at Lady Clarice and Simba rapidly 
 approaching. 
 
 When within a few rods her horse balked. 
 Simba launched himself forward. The rifle lay 
 out of reach somewhere beneath the man and 
 beast. Without a moment s hesitation Simba 
 leaped astride the lion s back, wound his hands in 
 the beast s mane, and jerked its head backward! 
 
 The lion uttered an astonished snarl. In 
 another fraction of a second he would have turned 
 on his tormentor and killed Simba at a blow. 
 Lady Clarice, who had flung herself from her 
 horse, ran up with the greatest resolution, thrust 
 the muzzle of the little automatic, that was as 
 ever her only weapon, against the beast s head, 
 and pulled the trigger. The lion s muscles re 
 laxed. He rolled over dead. 
 ~* Together they dragged the man from beneath. 
 He was dazed but not unconscious, and suffered 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 243 
 
 more from lack of wind than anything else. In a 
 moment he sat up, and the tension was over. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he gasped, " close call that ! What 
 happened?" and then he was violently sick. 
 
 But Simba, his ugly face intent, had laid bare 
 the shoulder and was examining the claw marks. 
 A lion s claws are always infected; the grooves 
 full of poison of decayed animal matter. A mere 
 scratch has many times proved fatal. Simba 
 opened his pocket knife and calmly jabbed it a 
 good half inch into one of the claw marks! 
 
 Kilgour let out a howl and struggled beneath 
 Simba s grasp. 
 
 "You unspeakable blighter!" he roared. 
 "What do you mean by that!" 
 
 "IFdowal" Simba begged of Lady Clarice, 
 paying no attention to Kilgour. 
 
 She was looking at the scene with the impersonal 
 air of attention peculiar to her. The excitement 
 had apparently left her quite unruffled. She 
 shook her head at the strange word. 
 
 "The beast is murdering me!" cried Kilgour, 
 writhing under Simba s heavy hand. 
 
 Receiving no response to his appeal, Simba 
 
244 SIMBA 
 
 turned and methodically punctured one by one 
 the remaining three claw marks. The blood 
 spurted from the new wounds. Kilgour struck 
 frantically at his tormentor, but Simba held him 
 easily to the ground. 
 
 "Make him stop it!" commanded Kilgour. 
 "He s killing me! You have a pistol! Make 
 him quit!" 
 
 "I think he ? s finished," said the woman in her 
 high, clear voice. "I fancy it s some savage 
 custom." 
 
 Kilgour s face reddened and his voice rose. 
 
 "I believe you d stand there and see me mur 
 dered: pon my word I do!" 
 
 She smiled and glanced toward the dead lion. 
 
 By now the second gunbearer and the other 
 men, who had been running without the aid of 
 stirrup leathers, began to appear upon the scene. 
 
 "Wave, Mavrouki, n dowa!" demanded Simba. 
 
 The second gunbearer fumbled in his pouch to 
 produce a tiny flask half filled with some crys 
 talline substance. This he uncorked and handed 
 it to Simba. Simba attempted with the fingers of 
 one hand to part one of the knife wounds, and 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 245 
 
 with the other to pour in some of the crystals. 
 Kilgour, raging, struggled weakly to his feet. 
 
 Simba glanced appealingly toward Lady Clarice. 
 She stood apart, her eyes fixed on the group, her 
 automatic in her hand. Nothing could be read 
 into her attitude but detached thought, watchful 
 curiosity. He looked about. None of the men 
 present spoke English. To manhandle a white 
 man is in Africa lese majeste of the worst sort. 
 Simba pondered a moment, then spoke rapidly 
 in Swahili. Lady Clarice caught the word "Kin- 
 gozi" many times repeated. The men looked 
 frightened, but advanced on the swaying white 
 man. He hit out feebly. They laid their hands 
 on him gently though firmly and in a moment he 
 was held, immovable but swearing. The woman, 
 whose face had hardened, whose muscles had ten 
 sed, whose pistol had half raised, relaxed. A slight 
 smile parted her lips as Kilgour s bitter reproaches 
 fell on her ears. 
 
 "They aren t going to harm you," she vouch 
 safed. "Better go through with it: I can t fight 
 the lot." 
 
 With the point of his knife Simba rubbed several 
 
246 SIMBA 
 
 of the permanganate crystals to the very bottom 
 of the tiny wounds, then bound the shoulder with 
 Kilgour s handkerchief. The men released their 
 hold. 
 
 "Better attend to your beast and thank your 
 lucky stars it s no worse," Lady Clarice cut in on 
 his invective. 
 
 Kilgour finally simmered down. His wrath 
 over the indignity obliterated for the time being 
 all sense of danger past They skinned the lion 
 and returned to camp. Then Josef produced 
 proper bandages and the shoulder was redressed. 
 He heard enough of the conversation between his 
 master and mistress to gain knowledge of the 
 situation. He was not surprised when he was 
 ordered to summon Simba, and to stand by for 
 interpretation. 
 
 Kilgour started an angry interrogation, but was 
 promptly thrust to one side by his wife. 
 
 "You re much too excited," she told him, then 
 to Josef: "I wish to know why this man dared 
 lay hands on his master: why he used the knife 
 on his shoulder? " 
 
 "The bwana had been marked by the lion s 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 247 
 
 claws," replied Simba, "and as thesis much poison 
 in the claws of the lion I put in the shoulder the 
 medicine given by the Bwana Kingozi. That I 
 have been taught. Bwana Kingozi told me I 
 must bring this bwana back alive: and so I must 
 do." 
 
 "He says it was medicine," translated Josef, 
 "to keep the bwana from dying of his wounds." 
 
 "Wounds!" cried Kilgour, "four little scratches 
 I couldn t even feel. They weren t wounds until 
 he made them so!" 
 
 "Some superstition, I tell you," she re 
 peated. 
 
 "Well, I do not intend to be mauled because 
 of dirty native superstitions ! " he declared. " This 
 fellow has been above himself for some time. 
 Hereafter he can stay in camp." 
 
 But she straightened herself in her canvas chair 
 with her first appearance of real animation. 
 
 "You have your lion," she told him, "and all 
 the other beasts you are so keen upon. We have 
 stopped in this beastly country long enough. 
 To-morrow we return to Nairobi." She stared 
 at him utterly ignoring his blank "Oh, I say!" 
 
248 SIMBA 
 
 "We came for six weeks," she resumed in a softer 
 tone after several moments of pregnant silence, 
 "and they re up within three days." 
 
 Kilgour s dismay changed to bland surprise. 
 
 "No! Dash it, who would have thought it! 
 How time flies!" 
 
 VIII 
 
 THIS safari made a much more impressive en 
 trance to Nairobi than had Kingozi s two months 
 before. It comprised many more men; they were 
 much better dressed; and they carried sport 
 ing trophies. Banging, clattering, howling, and 
 singing they marched again to the tin go-down, 
 deposited their burdens, and scattered to the ba 
 zaars. Not until the morrow would they get their 
 silver rupees, but now their credit was good. 
 Simba bathed, assumed his long, spotlessly white 
 robe and his lacy skull-cap, and at once made his 
 way to the piazza of Suleimani the Blind where he 
 ordered tea. 
 
 The white people proceeded to the low, one- 
 storied stone hotel on the veranda of which, 
 after a due interval, they appeared. Kingozi, 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 249 
 
 black of beard, crisp of curl, broad of shoulder, 
 sprawled in a teak- wood lazy chair. 
 
 Kilgour s spirits were high. 
 
 "Topping country!" he answered the usual 
 questions. "Ripping! Plenty of game where 
 you sent us, you know. Got all the stuff I 
 wanted. Rather a * fine eland land, you know. 
 Twenty-eight inches." 
 
 "Very decent," agreed Kingozi; "get your 
 lion?" 
 
 "Fine one tawny mane," said Kilgour airily; 
 then with ill-concealed indifference: "Mauled a 
 bit by him!" 
 
 Kingozi exclaimed, then heard the story bit 
 by bit. 
 
 " Close thing," he commented. " Buffalo? " 
 
 "Bad luck with them," confessed Kilgour; then 
 with an effort: "Should have killed one but 
 missed." 
 
 " Too bad. How did your men work out? Any 
 trouble with them? Cazi Moto handle them all 
 right for you?" 
 
 Kilgour s face clouded. 
 
 "Cazi Moto is a ripping old chap.* Handled 
 
SIMBA 
 
 things right as rain. Had no trouble with any 
 one but that head gun boy. He s plucky and all 
 that, but quite incompetent, I should say/ 
 
 "Really! Simba?" rejoined Kingozi, his in 
 terest quickening. "What was the trouble?" 
 
 "Doesn t know his business. I could never 
 get him to hold back on a stalk, nor take cover, 
 nor obey orders that s the real trouble, I fancy: 
 lack of discipline. Most insubordinate beggar. 
 Needs a dose of whats-what!" 
 
 "Tell me," breathed Kingozi sympathetically. 
 
 Kilgour detailed the petty grievances that had 
 slowly accumulated, enumerating the especially 
 desirable animals that had escaped because 
 he was by now firmly convinced of some derelic 
 tion on the part of Simba. 
 
 "So," he concluded, "I d reprimand the beggar 
 if I were you. Of course I knew," he hastened 
 to add, "that you had every confidence in the 
 man when you recommended him; and that is why 
 I am telling you now; so that in the future " 
 
 Lady Clarice interposed a sudden request for a 
 wrap. Kilgour disappeared. 
 
 "Here is some money," she said to Kingozi, 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 251 
 
 "which I wish to give to this man Simba from 
 me. Please do not mention the fact to my hus 
 band. 7 
 
 " This is princely/ said Kingozi, eyeing the note. 
 
 "It is well earned," she replied. 
 
 "Then I gather you do not share your hus 
 band s opinion? " 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 "Yet, if my memory serves me, you entertained 
 a rather violent prejudice against the man." 
 
 "I have changed my views." 
 
 "I see." Kingozi stared for a moment into the 
 darkness beyond the veranda rail. Then he 
 looked at her. "Are you going to read me this 
 riddle?" he asked. 
 
 "Not in detail. I will tell you this: Rex in 
 some things is an incredible fool and has no 
 inkling of the fact. I believe another week in 
 this country would have found him his death. 
 That it did not find him before is, in my opinion, 
 due to this man Simba." 
 
 "Lord Kilgour is next in succession to the 
 earldom, I believe," said Kingozi, with sig 
 nificance. 
 
252 SIMBA 
 
 "Why should one trouble to tell you things?" 
 she said. 
 
 IX 
 
 SIMBA stood before Kingozi s chair answering 
 questions. Kingozi was enjoying himself. He 
 had not yet bestowed Lady Clarice s gift. Pre 
 liminaries of country and game were over. They 
 talked in Swahili. 
 
 "This bwana shoots well? 
 
 "He does not shoot well." 
 
 "He understands shikari" 
 
 "No, bwana, he does not understand shikari 
 well." 
 
 " The bwana is afraid." 
 
 But Simba would not criticise a white man. 
 "The bwana is not at all afraid, but he does not 
 shoot well." 
 
 Kingozi smiled beneath his beard. 
 
 "It was difficult to prevent the bwana s being 
 hurt or killed?" 
 
 "He is here, bwana, safe." 
 
 "Suppose he goes to Sotik, would you go 
 as his gunbearer?" 
 
MUTUAL RESPECT 253 
 
 "If bwana tells me," replied Simba. His eyes 
 were dull, his expression inscrutable. 
 
 Kingozi s twinkle retreated to the depths of 
 his eyes. 
 
 "But women on a safari they are bad one 
 does not care to have them," he suggested. 
 
 Simba s form straightened, and he lifted his 
 heretofore indifferent gaze to his master. 
 
 "Bwana" said he earnestly, "this woman 
 says not much, does not much. She sits on her 
 horse and she looks. But, bwana, she is a great 
 memsahib!" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 THE EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 
 
 CIS paced the bridge and gazed upon the 
 lake. He was armed with a 22-calibre 
 repeating rifle which occasionally he let 
 off whenever one of the huge fish floating belly 
 up came within range. At such times he turned 
 out the whole magazine, and when he succeeded 
 in puncturing the swollen carcass, he evidenced a 
 disproportionate and savage joy. The 22-calibre 
 rifle and the fish were his only nervous outlets; 
 and Lewis was near explosion. The calm of his 
 demeanour was supreme and hollow. 
 
 He had good reason. The sweat-bath atmos 
 phere, for one thing; the ultra-violet rays of a 
 vertical sun, for another; an ill-charted, little- 
 navigated rock-strewn coast for a third; hippos 
 that blew violently to make one jump, a full 
 deckload of native passengers, and a native crew 
 
 4 
 
 that after two years training remained sweetly 
 
 254 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 255 
 
 convinced that "do-it-now" was a motto never 
 conceived for Africa, even on a steamboat. By 
 long practice Lewis had become fairly expert at 
 foreseeing contingencies. He could issue his 
 orders far enough ahead like shooting cross- 
 flying ducks. But when the unexpected happened 
 some day would come a real emergency demand 
 ing instant action, and then Oh, Lord! 
 
 Lewis punctured his eighth fish, sent the re 
 maining pellets in his magazine at a cynical 
 crocodile, and laid the weapon in its rack. Behind 
 him the steersman leaned on the wheel. The 
 steersman s head was shaved like a fancy hedge; 
 he wore a jam pot in the distended lobe of one ear 
 and a tobacco tin in the other; glistening with oil, 
 his naked red-brown skin set off pleasingly his 
 necklets and armlets of polished brass; a bead 
 band encircled his waist. He manipulated the 
 wheel indifferently with hands or prehensile toes. 
 He was quite a good steersman; but Lewis gazed 
 on him with distaste. 
 
 "When we go between the islands," he said in 
 the Swahili language, "keep the white float on the 
 left-hand side* Understand?" 
 
256 SIMBA 
 
 "Yes, bwana" replied the steersman. 
 
 "I wouldn t bet on it, you blighter/ muttered 
 Lewis, making his way aft along the raised plat 
 form that continued the level of the bridge. This 
 was covered by a double awning. On it stood a 
 table and a number of lazy chairs of teak wood. 
 Here in a little upper world above the welter 
 of freight and natives dwelt day and night 
 continuously whatever white men might be 
 aboard. 
 
 It was this morning occupied by a single 
 individual, a bearded man with a quick, dancing 
 eye. He had come aboard at Balaka accompanied 
 by a number of elephant tusks, a small pile of 
 battered baggage, and two native servants. Evi 
 dently he knew the ropes, for he made his way 
 promptly to the upper quarters, and established 
 himself in comfort. 
 
 "We may as well have tiffin," said Lewis, 
 dropping heavily into a chair. "We re out of 
 the rocks." He filled and lighted a pipe. Two 
 or three deep puffs seemed to calm him. " Nothing 
 ahead for an hour but the passage between the 
 islands. And that s simple. One mud bar, but 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 257 
 
 last passage I dropped a buoy on that. Rather 
 proud of that buoy first on the Lake!" 
 
 The elephant hunter whose name was Culbert- 
 son, alias Kingozi, nodded without speaking. 
 Lewis went on with the volubility of a nervous 
 man. 
 
 " Ought to chart this Lake properly. No excuse 
 for letting us barge along regardless. Boy!" he 
 shouted, "lete chakula maramoja /" 
 
 While awaiting the arrival of lunch in accord 
 with this last command, he leaned back gazing at 
 the passing shores. 
 
 They were high, barren, untropical looking, with 
 rocky points reaching far out and indentations 
 reaching deep in. On the rocks crocodiles sunned 
 themselves. The smoke of villages arose inland; 
 and the brush wiers and dugout canoes of the 
 native fishermen could be seen. On the other 
 side was the open Lake, like an ocean. 
 
 The ship s prow swung. She headed for what 
 was apparently the solid shore. At the last 
 moment a portion of the latter detached itself to 
 disclose a passage. Lewis__arose and stepped 
 forward for a look. 
 
258 SIMBA 
 
 "My buoy is there right enough," he reported 
 with satisfaction. "Great relief!" 
 
 The shores drew near; closed around them. 
 Beehive roofs of native thatched huts could be 
 seen, and blotches of dull colour that would prove 
 to be compact herds of humped cattle. A black 
 boy dressed in a single gown-like garment of 
 spotless white climbed the companion carrying a 
 tray. 
 
 "Tiffin!" cried Lewis with satisfaction. 
 
 The ship stopped short with a dull thud. Under 
 the impact the black boy plunged across the 
 deck and plastered his trayful of food against 
 the back of the pilot house. Lewis and Kingozi 
 fell out of their chairs, which tipped over on top 
 of them. There ensued a dense silence almost 
 immediately broken by a pandemonium of shrieks 
 and yells from the lower deck. 
 
 White with fury Lewis scrambled to his feet and 
 in three bounds was inside the pilot house and at 
 the helmsman s throat. 
 
 "You black imp of the devil!" he yelled in 
 English. "You just wouldn t do as you were 
 told, would you! Why didn t you do as I told 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 259 
 
 you!" he cried in Swahili. His voice cracked to 
 a treble with released hysteria. The helmsman, 
 his eyes protruding, was incapable of replying. 
 Lewis continued to shake and throttle him. 
 Finally Kingozi intervened. 
 
 "Better drop it," he advised quietly, putting 
 his hand on Lewis s shoulder. "Go see what s 
 happened to your ship." 
 
 Lewis stared at him with wild eyes. The effort 
 he made over himself was visible. After a few 
 seconds his hands relaxed. 
 
 "You re quite right, of course," he said, his 
 voice again under the vibrant nervous control of 
 a man overstrained. "Thank you." 
 
 He dove for the lower decks, where the con 
 fusion had increased. The elephant hunter 
 hitched a chair to the bridge rail where he could 
 see. Inside the pilot house the helmsman was 
 gasping for breath and feeling his throat. 
 
 Lewis went to work ably and methodically. 
 Kingozi reflected that no doubt he was the man 
 for the job, even if the job was "getting" him. 
 In dealing with excited natives excitement only 
 adds fuel. Outwardly Lewis was perfectly calm, 
 
2 6o SIMBA 
 
 but it was the calm of a capped artesian well. 
 In his hand he carried a kiboko the hippopotamus 
 hide whip of the country. Order restored, he 
 began the necessary labour. The Gwendolin had 
 thrust her nose high up on a mud bank. Reversed 
 engines accomplished little. Lewis began patiently 
 to shift cargo. Dozens of native canoes gathered 
 about. 
 
 Becoming bored Kingozi returned to his re 
 clining chair. There he smoked for a tune, then 
 fell asleep. 
 
 He was awakened three hours later by the re 
 turn of the captain. The latter fell heavily into 
 his armchair and shouted for lime juice and 
 sparklets. Kingozi opened his eyes. Observing 
 this, Lewis broke forth. 
 
 "I ask you, as a man," he cried, "can you top 
 this? What do you suppose happened? These 
 bounders of local niggers moved my buoy about a 
 hundred feet to the southeast! And what for!" 
 Lewis s voice rose to a treble. "To hitch their 
 bally fishing canoes to! Oh, that s right; laugh, 
 damn you!" He gulped down his drink, lit 
 his pipe, and subsided to mutterings. 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 261 
 
 The Gwendoline her nose somewhat in the air 
 pending the shifting back of the cargo, was again 
 plowing ahead. Gradually Lewis calmed down. 
 
 "Now I m delayed four good hours, " he grum 
 bled. "There s no keeping even in this country! 
 I ve got to stop in for the night at Irabanga. 
 Beastly hole!" 
 
 "No navigation at night?" surmised Kingozi. 
 
 "Navigation at night!" Lewis laughed bitterly, 
 scorning more specific reply. 
 
 At dusk the ship swung past a low boulder 
 point and into a bay narrow as a river but reach 
 ing inland at least two miles. The water was 
 deep. At the lower end were a narrow beach 
 and a jungle of cocoanut palms from which smoke 
 arose. A rickety wharf, extending fifty feet, was 
 blanketed by a sturdy, stubby, sidewheel steamer. 
 
 "There s Heine," remarked Lewis with a mix 
 ture of pleasure and vexation. "Dutchman 
 German runs that tub of a Hohenzollern around 
 the Lake. Trade rival and all that sort of thing. 
 Look at him hogging the whole jetty. Move? 
 Not he! Now I ll have to anchor. More row 
 and trouble and fuss ! Hell ! " 
 
262 SIMBA 
 
 "Regular German swine, eh?" said the ivory 
 hunter. 
 
 "Heine? No; he s a good sort. We ll have a 
 good evening. I suppose he did get there first; 
 and there isn t room for but one of us at a time. 
 Well, to get at it!" 
 
 They got at it. By dint of shrieks, yells, blows, 
 and arguments conducted at length in the very 
 face of pressing necessity the Baganda mates 
 translated Lewis s commands pleadings rather 
 into action. The anchor splashed overboard. 
 Except that the Gwendolin was fifty yards from 
 the place selected, that the apparatus had twice 
 jammed, that the fluke had gouged five feet of 
 paint and slivers from the bow, and that the rush 
 of the anchor chain had carried overboard three 
 native bundles and a chair, all was well. Lewis 
 wiped his streaming brow with a long, trembling 
 sigh of relief. He sat down limply. 
 
 "Must get hold of myself!" he muttered. 
 
 Kingozi was eyeing him with entire under 
 standing. 
 
 " You need some chuck," he said. " Remember 
 we got no tiffin." 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 263 
 
 "Heine will have us over shortly," replied 
 Lewis. 
 
 Dusk was falling, and the hills to the westward 
 were rising in silhouette. In the jungle fires were 
 gleaming. Drums began to throb dully, and 
 people to chant. A light shone in the Hohenzollern 
 upper cabin as the door opened. A very fat man 
 emerged and waddled to the rail. 
 
 "Wie gehts, Johnny!" he roared in a voice that 
 broke through all the compact stillnesses and 
 minor cadences of the tropical evening. "Coom 
 on ofer! Chakula iss ready!" 
 
 They rowed over to the rickety pier and clam 
 bered aboard. The Hohenzollern did not differ 
 greatly from the Gwendolin in general arrange 
 ment, and they ascended immediately to the 
 wide platform-like upper deck. There the fat 
 man greeted them. He was rotund rather than 
 obese, his complexion was baby pink, his blond 
 hair rose en brosse, and his heavy moustache fell 
 naturally over his lips. Lewis and Kingozi were 
 clasped by a soft, moist hand. 
 
 "It iss goot to see you!" cried Heine, his chubby 
 face wreathed in smiles. "This iss lonely busi- 
 
264 SIMBA 
 
 ness. Sit down! sit down! Lete chakula !" he 
 roared to the steward standing not three feet away. 
 
 Lewis sank gratefully into the lazy chair. 
 
 "Lonesome, yes; I believe you and aggravat 
 ing ! Oh, Lord ! These niggers ! 
 
 "Niggers? yes; but they are stupid children," 
 agreed the German comfortably. 
 
 " And malicious," added Lewis with bitterness. 
 
 "Malicious? So?" replied Heine in some sur 
 prise. "But that I had not thought." 
 
 The steward brought the evening meal and they 
 ate, while the thick darkness drew close about 
 them, and the tropic stars flared clear, and the 
 twinkling fires took on the tinge of red. 
 
 They had soup, curry, yams, baked bananas, 
 and coffee. 
 
 "One cannot drink beer!" sighed Heine, "that 
 I haf found. And whisky is bad. But here are 
 goot cigars!" 
 
 They talked of various topics, the common 
 places of everyday life how the crops of rfjugu 
 nuts were coming on, the prospects of cattle 
 quarantine being declared in the Ikorongo dis 
 trict, the best routes from one point to another, 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 265 
 
 the spread of sleeping sickness, the quality of 
 lubricating oil, the price of ivory, the scarcity of 
 labour, the chances for success in cotton planting 
 all subjects near to heart and on which they 
 had ideas. 
 
 "Anything outside?" Kingozi asked idly, in 
 a pause. 
 
 Heine shook his head. 
 
 "I haf been to the foot of the Lake -I haf 
 nothing seen," he answered. 
 
 "I saw Reuter s despatches when I was in at 
 Kimi, last week no, two weeks ago." 
 
 "Anything especially startling?" 
 
 "Falling Star won the Goodwood Cup." 
 
 "You don t say!" cried Kingozi. "Falling 
 Star but of course I have been out of it for a year. 
 He must have come up strong!" 
 
 "You und your race horses!" chaffed Heine. 
 
 "Then I believe the Americans won at tennis," 
 went on Lewis slowly, trying to recollect, "and 
 they ve had one of their usual floods in China 
 and, oh, yes, I knew there was something else! 
 One of the Austrian Grand Dukes was assassinated 
 down in Serbia." 
 
266 SIMBA 
 
 "An Austrian Grand Duke!" repeated Heine, 
 interested at last. " Who vass it? " 
 
 Lewis pondered. " I can t place it," he confessed. 
 
 "Who vass the assassin?" 
 
 "Some student or other Serbian." 
 
 Heine wagged his ponderous head. 
 
 " Such foolishness ! when they might be on deck 
 at Irabanga with goot friends. Veil, let them 
 kill each other. That makes nothing to us 
 while the n jugu nuts still grow." 
 
 The two Englishmen rowed back to the Gwen- 
 dolin two hours later. Lewis was greatly re 
 freshed in spirit, relaxed in mental fibre. He 
 puffed at a final cheroot leisurely and luxuriously, 
 not with the nervous speed of his earlier evening. 
 Kingozi saw by the light of the companion lamp 
 that his face had fallen into more peaceful lines; 
 heard that he hummed under his breath the bars 
 of a song popular five years ago. 
 
 "Heine s a good soul," remarked Lewis. "He 
 hogs the trade when he can, and he hogs the piers, 
 and he swills his food, and he s a good deal of a 
 beast in many ways but he s a good soul." 
 
 The next morning the Gwendolin steamed 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 267 
 
 away after much miscellaneous shrieking in 
 efficiency leaving the Hohenzollern still gorging 
 n jugu nuts at the pier. By nightfall she had 
 reached the important harbour of Kimi. Here 
 ended the main caravan route from the coast, and 
 here in all the panoply of one flag staff, one bronze 
 cannon (relic from Portuguese days), one District 
 Commissioner and dwelling, two European shops, 
 and twenty Indian dukkas, six residences of cor 
 rugated iron and uncounted native huts of thatch 
 dwelt the power of empire as represented in this 
 particular part of Central Africa. In addition to 
 those land glories was a bona-fide pier made of 
 bona-fide piling, a huge iron go-down, and a 
 miscellaneous and irresponsible maritime popula 
 tion of dugouts and dhows scattered all over the 
 place. They were anchored everywhere, in the 
 channel as thickly as anywhere else. The Gwen- 
 dolin barged and blundered her way through the 
 mess, escaping barratry and homicide by inches, 
 pursued and accompanied by native words that 
 ran to a rate of thousands per minute; and was 
 confronted by a pier and the problem of landing 
 thereat! 
 
268 S I M B A 
 
 And when finally the gangplank was heaved 
 aboard, hitting the deck with one inch to spare, 
 and both bow and stern lines had been made defi 
 nitely fast, Lewis swabbed his steaming brow. 
 
 "Praise God!" said he fervently; and Kingozi 
 understood why lake captains so soon crack up 
 and have to be sent home out of the tropics. 
 
 II 
 
 CAPTAIN LEWIS turned out the next morning 
 considerably refreshed. This was because for the 
 next few days he had no responsibilities. It was 
 up to McCann poor devil to get the cargo out 
 of the hold and into that tin hell of a go-down. 
 Lewis lit a cheroot and sauntered up to the Dis 
 trict Commissioner s headquarters in search of 
 amusement. He was reasonably sure of it there. 
 
 For Browning the D. C. ruled about a million 
 people and was exactly twenty-four years of 
 age. Moreover, he ruled them well, after a fashion 
 of his own, which was enthusiastic, erratic, and in 
 detail unknown to Downing Street. For example, 
 Browning was keen for good roads a "road" 
 in that country being, of course, a three-foot path 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 269 
 
 crowned and raised above the flood mark. But 
 native chiefs did not share his enthusiasm, and 
 could not be persuaded to force their people into 
 construction. Browning s diplomacy was direct. 
 Under a requisition for "trade goods" he sent to 
 England for twenty-one bicycles; and on their 
 arrival spent an enormous amount of time and 
 patience in teaching the local potentates to ride. 
 Thereafter gaudy sultanis clad in brass jewellery 
 and a mosquito or so could be seen streaking it 
 across the landscape followed by winded courts. 
 And when that sultani came a cropper, he had out 
 a thousand men to repair the road! Many 
 similar stories could be told of Browning s admin 
 istration; but this one gives a good idea of Brown 
 ing. 
 
 His second in command, a patriarch of twenty- 
 two, was Bobby Calthrop. What Browning did 
 not think of Bobby did; and what they both 
 thought of at the same time was immediately car 
 ried out with a verve and fiaire fairly inspiring. 
 Yet, it must be repeated, these two apparent 
 irresponsibles governed that district justly, and 
 if results were a criterion wisely as well. 
 
270 SIMBA 
 
 Lewis found them, together with Kingozi 
 and two strangers whom he identified as casual 
 sportsmen, busily engaged on the open space in 
 front of the official bungalow. There for many 
 years had stood an old Portuguese cannon of 
 bronze. It was a relic of a hundred years ago, 
 heavily embossed, and of course quite useless save 
 as an ornament. Over this ancient piece the five 
 white men were engaged. Five or six hundred 
 natives squatted interestedly near by. 
 
 "The touch hole is free/ Bobby was saying. 
 "I can blow through her." 
 
 "The bore is none too good/ grunted Brown 
 ing, who was poking vigorously down the muzzle 
 with a stick. 
 
 "I ll bet the balls will fit just the same," re 
 joined Bobby. "Here," he yelled in native 
 dialect. "Bring some of those iron stones there/ 
 indicating an ornamental pyramid of round 
 cannon balls. 
 
 He was about to insert one of these into the 
 muzzle. 
 
 "Hold on!" cried one of the strangers. "Sup 
 pose it sticks? How are you going to get it out?" 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 271 
 
 "Good Lord! I never thought of that!" said 
 Bobby, mopping his brow. 
 
 "We ve got to clean it out until we re sure!" 
 insisted Browning. 
 
 They set to work at this, busy as bees. Lewis, 
 by long experience, had learned better than to 
 question. He sat down in the shade, puffed his 
 cheroot, and waited the event. The natives, too, 
 stared round-eyed. 
 
 " That ll do ! Now let s load her ! " cried Brown 
 ing triumphantly at last. 
 
 "I don t suppose she d stand nitro powder or 
 cordite," said Bobby in some doubt. 
 
 "I should say not!" vo ted Kingozi with emphasis. 
 
 " I m afraid we haven t any black powder except 
 a little in some shotgun shells. But that wouldn t 
 be enough. There s some blasting powder how 
 would that do?" 
 
 It was decided worth a trial. After further 
 discussion a proper charge was agreed upon, and 
 inserted into the relic. The cannon ball followed 
 and fitted! 
 
 "We can prime her with some black powder out 
 of the shotgun shells," said Browning. 
 
272 SIMBA 
 
 But now a new difficulty supervened. Even 
 these reckless youths saw objections to touching 
 the experimental shot off by hand. Someone 
 produced blasting fuse. But it became necessary 
 to bore out the touch hole to a larger size. At 
 length, however, all seemed to be ready. 
 
 "Now," cried Bobby triumphantly, "we ll 
 just train her on that big rock on the side hill there 
 and see how she goes!" 
 
 "This is the time to retire somewhat!" observed 
 Lewis to himself. 
 
 The idea was unanimous, and promptly adopted. 
 In ten seconds Bobby Calthorp alone was left. 
 He puffed his cheroot to a glow, held it against 
 the end of the fuse and fled wildly at the first 
 nerve-shattering sputter. 
 
 A smoky, fizzly pause; then a tremendous ex 
 plosion and a cloud of smoke. 
 
 " A-a-a-a ! came a native chorus of astonishment. 
 
 Bobby danced excitedly into the open. 
 
 " Did you see that? How s that for a shot ! " he 
 shrieked. "Plunked her square in the middle." 
 And indeed the iron ball had smashed the boulder 
 to bits. 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 273 
 
 They gathered interestedly. The results were 
 gratifying. The cannon was intact; it had not 
 kicked itself loose from its mountings. 
 
 "It blew an awful blast from the touch hole," 
 observed one of the sportsmen. 
 
 "Perhaps you ll kindly tell me what you are 
 celebrating?" inquired Lewis, sauntering up. 
 
 They fell upon him, all talking at once. War! 
 Germany against France and Russia, then Eng 
 land! Fighting in Belgium! Liege and Namur 
 both taken! Our troops are already in France! 
 What s more we ve been jolly well licked and 
 forced to retreat, but there s a stand being made 
 at the River Marne. 
 
 "Where did you get all this?" interjected Lewis. 
 
 "Oh, beg pardon, Mr. Hobart and Captain 
 Hardy Mr. Lewis," said Browning. "These 
 gentlemen saw the latest Reuters on their way in. 
 They were out for some shootin ." 
 
 "The dirty beasts! Now we ll get a chance 
 at them!" cried Lewis, his racial antagonism 
 flaring. 
 
 "We re going to mount the cannon on the 
 Gwendolin^ explained Bobby Calthrop, "and then 
 
274 SIMBA 
 
 go hunt up that German steamer the Hohen- 
 zollern!" 
 
 Lewis seized the idea eagerly. His overwrought 
 nerves welcomed this outlet. He burned with a 
 fever of action. The German swine! A hundred 
 disagreeable personal memories of the travelling 
 German pressed against his recollection. A latent, 
 unsuspected antagonism leaped within him, a real 
 hate. Take the Hohenzollern that was it! The 
 German swine hogging the piers, sneaking into 
 covers that belonged to him, Lewis, by right of 
 discovery, taking trade that was his by virtue of 
 development ! 
 
 They impressed a hundred of the natives and 
 dragged the cannon and its ornamental balls down 
 to the wharves. There McCann, perspiring and 
 patriotically faithful, had been discharging cargo. 
 A short delay for rifles and various provisions, and 
 once more the Gwendolin pointed her nose lake- 
 ward. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE time passed heavily, even with the Gwen 
 dolin forging ahead under a forced draft. The 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 275 
 
 white men smoked interminably, discussed end 
 lessly, jumped up and down, peered through 
 glasses. Lewis was heading back to Irabanga, 
 but there was a chance that the German boat 
 might have taken on cargo and be at sea. There 
 were a dozen false alarms. Bobby Calthrop 
 agitatedly reported black smoke, and the Gwen- 
 dolin was turned in its direction; but the smoke 
 turned out to be one of those drifting, dense 
 clouds of flies for which the Lake was famous. 
 Again they swerved to inspect supposed masts 
 behind an island; and discovered only a native 
 drying rack. It was all most exciting. 
 
 "Beats lions/ observed Hobart. "Talk about 
 your big game!" 
 
 Toward five o clock the point at Irabanga 
 detached itself from the shoreline and swiftly 
 approached. The white men gathered in a group 
 on the forward part of the bridge. A tense silence 
 fell. Each scanned eagerly through his glasses. 
 Foot by foot the bay opened up. Now could be 
 seen the fringes of the cocoanut grove, the grove 
 itself, some of the native huts, the foot of the 
 pier, the pier itself 
 
276 SIMBA 
 
 Bobby dropped his glasses to the end of their 
 strap and uttered a cheer. The Hohenzollern was 
 there! 
 
 Lewis personally took the wheel. Bobby and 
 the two sportsmen rushed down the companion 
 and tore the canvas from the artillery. The 
 elephant hunter paused to light a cheroot in the 
 shelter of the pilot house, then followed. The 
 cheroot did not indicate a desire to smoke; it was 
 intended as a slow fire. Browning, as befitted his 
 high estate as ranking officer, walked back and 
 forth across the bridge. His keen eyes were 
 dancing, his brown hair was tumbled, his mouth 
 was aquirk with mischievous delight. 
 
 The Gwendolin turned down the long, narrow 
 reach of the bay. The objects at its foot began to 
 take on definition. When about half a mile from 
 the pier, Browning spoke: 
 
 "Half speed, captain," he ordered. 
 
 Lewis obediently rung up half speed. 
 
 "Way enough; stop her/ said Lewis after a 
 moment. 
 
 The engines fell to silence. Then unexpectedly 
 came Browning s third command. It was uttered 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 277 
 
 in Swahili and delivered with and accompanied by 
 items of emphasis that spoke much for the D. C. s 
 knowledge of natives. And so efficacious was it 
 that the Gwendolin rounded to her anchor about 
 three hundred yards from the pier. 
 
 "What did you do] that for?" someone in 
 quired out of the amazement. 
 
 "Gentlemen, I consider this about a sporting 
 distance," said Browning calmly. "Prepare to 
 fire." 
 
 Lewis at the wheel felt within him a slight 
 movement of protest. It seemed only fair first to 
 summon the Hohenzollern to surrender. But what 
 difference? The super-excited lunatics in the 
 waist were completely absorbed in technical 
 problems. 
 
 "The bally thing will not swing far enough/ 1 
 panted Bobby, tugging at a rope. 
 
 "For heaven s sake don t jiggle her so; you ll 
 lose all the priming powder," urged Harding. 
 
 " Can t you just give her a kick with the screw, 
 old man?" the elephant hunter implored Lewis. 
 "She may swing." 
 
 Lewis obligingly kicked her. 
 
278 SIMBA 
 
 " Great!" howled Bobby, snatched the cheroot 
 from the elephant hunter, and pressed it against 
 the end of the fuse. 
 
 Everybody scattered precipitately; everybody 
 but Bobby, who remained near the breech. An 
 explosion shook the Gwendolin to her keel. Bob 
 by s agonized voice arose from the dense cloud 
 of smoke. 
 
 "I can t see a damn thing!" he wailed, "where 
 did she hit?" 
 
 But that nobody could tell. The foot of the 
 bay, the pier, the Hohenzollern, and the jungle 
 beyond slept peacefully in the late afternoon 
 sunlight. 
 
 "Must have overshot," was the opinion of the 
 elephant hunter. "Or we d have seen it hit." 
 
 A few scared-looking natives peeped out of the 
 jungle and disappeared. There was no other sign 
 of life. 
 
 "We ll have to raise the breech some way," 
 said Bobby. "See if some of you can t find a 
 block." 
 
 They raised the breech after a fashion; they 
 swabbed out the bore against lingering sparks; 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 279 
 
 they reloaded it with more blasting powder and 
 another of the ornamental cannon balls; they 
 filled the vent with shotgun powder, and laid 
 thereto another length of fuse. Then Captain 
 Lewis kicked her again with the screw, and at 
 what was deemed the proper moment the ancient 
 piece was again touched off. Same result. 
 
 "We re out of range," ventured Harding. 
 
 "We are not!" countered Bobby in heated de 
 fense of his piece. "We d have seen the splash 
 if we d fallen short." 
 
 "Then you re a rotten shot," Harding pointed 
 the alternative. 
 
 "Well, let s see you do better!" cried Bobby. 
 
 It took some time to reload and relay the old 
 cannon. Shots were at least five minutes apart. 
 Harding had a try, with no better luck; and then 
 each of the others. All but Captain Lewis. He 
 stayed by the wheel, but was as much excited as 
 the rest. To a dispassionate observer the con 
 trast would have been interesting the bustle 
 and bluster, excitement, sweat, and noise aboard 
 the Gwendolin; the thunderous blasts, leaping 
 flame, and dense clouds of smoke; and the peaceful 
 
2 8o SIJVTBA 
 
 lower end of the bay, its waters mirroring placidly 
 the rickety pier, the chubby old steamboat, the 
 motionless jungle and the sky. 
 
 "Look over her for yourself !" cried Bobby in 
 answer to some sarcasm. "She must jump high. 
 She s fairly pointing at the water now, you 
 couldn t lower the muzzle any more. I don t 
 understand it!" 
 
 But at this moment Lewis came storming down 
 from the bridge where for some moments he had 
 tried in vain to make himself heard. 
 
 "Here, you bally idiots!" he shrieked in their 
 ears. "Attend to me a moment! You re not 
 going high; you re too low!" 
 
 "Then you d see a splash " insisted Bobby, 
 
 doggedly sticking to his point. 
 
 "I tell you we re too far away " said Hard 
 ing, sticking to his. 
 
 " For heaven s sake listen to me ! " howled Lewis, 
 exasperated beyond all measure. 
 
 He got their attention finally. It seemed that 
 he had just noticed something. Possibly the first 
 shot had gone high who knows? But the piece 
 had been depressed too much for all subsequent, 
 
EDGE OF THE RIPPLE 281 
 
 that was sure. The balls fitted very loosely in 
 the bore. They stayed atop the powder where 
 they were rammed only until they were jarred. 
 When the screw of the ship "kicked" her around 
 they were so jarred, and they simply rolled out 
 the muzzle and overside. Only blanks were being 
 fired. How did he know? He had seen the last 
 ball splash alongside the ship. 
 
 "Well, of all the bally idiots !" cried Bobby. 
 "What we need is wadding." 
 
 They procured wadding, relaid the gun at a 
 guess. The next shot was a success; that is, it 
 was seen to splash water a hundred yards or so 
 from the mark. But the one succeeding! A 
 rending crash of timbers succeeded the shot, 
 and splinters flew from the piling fifty feet astern 
 the Hohenzollern. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried Browning. "We ve got the 
 elevation! Swing her a little." 
 
 But now for the first time life showed aboard 
 the German ship. The pilot-house door swung 
 open, and a huge figure in pajamas waddled to 
 the rail and raised a megaphone. 
 
 "Look oudt! Look oudt!" bellowed Heine s 
 
282 SIMBA 
 
 voice in irritated tones. "What you do? If 
 you don t look a leedle oudt you re going to hit 
 my bo-ut!" He lowered his megaphone, wiped 
 his brow, and raised the instrument again. "Oh, 
 Lewis!" he roared, "when you get through das 
 celebradtion coom ofer und half chakula /" Then 
 he turned his broad back, waddled into the pilot 
 house, and the door closed behind him. 
 
 A blank pause ensued. 
 
 "He thinks we re salutin the King s birthday!" 
 cried Bobby disgustedly. 
 
 "Heave up that anchor there!" commanded 
 Lewis with decision. "We ought to be ashamed 
 of ourselves!" 
 
 Fifteen minutes later Heine leaned on the rail 
 watching the receding smoke of the Gwendolin. 
 He smoked a porcelain pipe. 
 
 "So there is war," he said to himself. "Such 
 foolishness! What does it make for me? Still, 
 there are n jugu nuts. And now I am safe. 
 They will not bother me. There is no defense 
 so good as a laugh." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 COW IVORY 
 
 A)NG the front of the hotel at Mombasa 
 just below the equator and across the 
 way from spicy Zanzibar runs a broad 
 second-story veranda paved with cool, smooth 
 tile, and looking out through arches to the coral 
 roadway and the palms and gorgeous flowering 
 trees of a park. Heavy teak- wood lazy chairs 
 with adjustable leg rests stand in a row. Quiet 
 black men spring to magical visibility at a call. 
 Tepid breezes wander in from the perfumed tropi 
 cal night; and in the long silences the occupants 
 of the lazy chairs, listening attentively, can hear 
 the soft growl of the Indian Ocean under a sailing 
 moon. 
 
 One steamer night three of the teak-wood 
 chairs were occupied by men smoking in the 
 evening comfort of pajamas. Two of them had 
 come out on the ship just arrived; the third, 
 
 283 
 
284 SIMBA 
 
 a slow-moving quiet man with a rumbling great 
 voice and a bushy great beard, had met them in 
 the harbour, had piloted them to the hotel, had 
 fed them and drunk them and smoked them and 
 now was talking to them slowly, between puffs 
 of his cheroot. For he was Culbertson, ex- 
 elephant hunter, for the moment Ship s Agent; 
 and these two men were of some importance to 
 the Company. 
 
 "I ll agree with you," Culbertson alias Kingozi, 
 by which name he was best known, was saying to 
 the eldest of the three, Lord Marshlands, a small, 
 quiet, efficient tanned man, "it was a fine thing 
 any sacrifice is. But it was not, as you think, 
 the highest of all. Sacrifice of life is nothing, 
 any more than mere personal courage. They are 
 too common." 
 
 "Oh, I say!" objected the youngest, a fresh- 
 faced eager boy of twenty-five. "That s a little 
 steep, isn t it?" 
 
 Culberston smiled at him. 
 
 "Not a bit. Courage is the commonest thing 
 there is, only it doesn t happen to be called out in 
 everyday Kfe So when a man walks up to a 
 
COW IVORY 285 
 
 lion we shiver and applaud him for bravery; but 
 when in war a hundred thousand men green from 
 the city stick tight, we take it for granted. Am I 
 right, Marshlands?" 
 
 The little man nodded. Kingozi paused to 
 allow a screaming native row in the street below 
 to die down. This it did on the mere appearance 
 of a tall, smart Nubian policeman in tarboush, 
 red kummerbund, and shining buckles. 
 
 "It really means more for a man to sacrifice his 
 ideals or his self-respect for another than for him 
 to sacrifice his life," went on Kingozi, reaching his 
 hand for the drink at his elbow. "But that 
 doesn t matter. It s the fact of sacrifice that 
 really counts, and not what is sacrificed, for it 
 implies something in the world stronger than the 
 individual no bad things these times." 
 
 "I d like to know whether I ll funk it when I 
 run up against my first lion," blurted out the young 
 man, who had not been paying the slightest at 
 tention to Kingozi s line of thought. 
 
 "Not you Carson, I know your type," said 
 the Ship s Agent kindly. His big voice rumbled 
 on, deliberately, dispassionately, unfolding his 
 
286 SIMBA 
 
 argument. " There are various things bigger tnan 
 the individual," he continued, "such as patriotism, 
 friendship, an idea but most often love." He 
 chuckled hugely, and gulped down his drink. 
 "Boy!" he shouted. A white-robed figure de 
 tached itself from the shadows and glided to his 
 side. "Lime juicy n gini," ordered Culbertson. 
 He chuckled again. "Eh, my lad? And the 
 tragedy lies generally not in the sacrifice, but in 
 the uselessness of it." 
 
 "I suppose you know what you are driving at," 
 said Lord Marshlands resignedly. "Is it essen 
 tial that I continue to listen? It is a hot night." 
 
 "Did you ever hear of the Marsabit cow ivory?" 
 demanded Kingozi abruptly. 
 
 "Can t say I have," said Marshlands. Young 
 Carson pricked up his ears. He remembered that 
 Kingozi had been the greatest elephant hunter of 
 his times. 
 
 "Ten years ago four men made safari north of 
 Kenia into the Marsabit country," continued 
 Kingozi. "They were after ivory, and as it was 
 a commercial transaction, they did not care 
 particularly how they got it. The country was 
 
COW IVORY 287 
 
 then unknown. You re going up there on your 
 shoot, aren t you, Carson?" 
 
 The young man nodded. 
 
 "Well, you ll find it a different place now. The 
 natives are all nice and tame; you can buy jam 
 and marmalade at Meru boma plenty of game 
 though. But then well, I fancy those chaps 
 earned their ivory! They took long enough at it 
 gone two years. Nice dry sort of country, with 
 water holes sixty miles apart, thorn scrub, hot, 
 funny, unknown tribes with interesting ideas and 
 spears. But plenty elephants; and considerable 
 trade ivory to be had Lord! a fine country for a 
 real man! They must have been real men, for 
 they all came out alive, and they hadn t any of 
 them murdered each other. That s no joke, 
 I tell you. Under the equator, two years, hard 
 country, no luxuries, no rest and everybody 
 happy enough not to bite, anyway. Furthermore, 
 they were rich. I don t suppose so valuable 
 a safari of ivory ever was got together before. You 
 know there s a lot of difference in ivory. Just 
 lay out a few random tusks before an Indian 
 buyer, if you don t believe it. He ll pick it out 
 
288 SIMBA 
 
 for you! Matter of grain and density, how well 
 it will carve, what its resiliency is oh, a lot of 
 things! But the best ivory of all is cow ivory. 
 Finer, more bounce, great stuff! Most first- 
 quality billiard balls used to be made of cow ivory. 
 Costs like blazes, and it ought to; for besides being 
 of better quality, a cow s tusks rarely weigh over 
 fifteen or twenty pounds to the pair. A good 
 bull, as you know, runs to a hundred or more. 
 
 "It was the custom in those days to take what 
 ever came along. These men had made a great 
 haul. They arrived at the Guaso Nyero River 
 I believe they had camels and Somali drivers- 
 after a sixty-mile trek without water, just about 
 done up, but pretty happy. There they got a 
 shock. 
 
 "The usual way out from that country crossed 
 where Arthur Neumann later made his head 
 quarters at what he called Campi ya N Yama 
 Yangu. They and their camels and their Somalis 
 and their miscellaneous natives dropped in late. 
 . As a usual thing a man always crosses a river 
 before making camp just in case it might rise 
 during the night but this was the dry season and 
 
COW IVORY 289 
 
 they done up, so they camped on the north bank. 
 That was a lucky thing. For shortly after dark 
 they caught the gleam of fires across the way. 
 Some of their men, wading across to investigate, 
 returned to say that a white man s safari was 
 encamped there. The hunters got themselves 
 carried over, and shortly found themselves in the 
 presence of a very trim, businesslike young officer 
 of the K. A. R. The King s African Rifles, you 
 know," Kingozi explained to young Carson. 
 
 "He was a decent sort, and I always thought he 
 pretty well suspected the situation and took pains 
 to give indirect warning. It would have been 
 only decent of him, in the circumstances. He 
 invited them to his quarters you know the 
 official camp; green double tent with a fly out 
 front, canvas chairs, folding table, siphon of 
 sparklets. From him they immediately learned 
 that British East Africa had overnight, as it were, 
 become an administered political unit. 
 
 " You chaps are out of a job here now y know, 
 the young officer told them. Game laws going, 
 and all that sort of thing. Two elephants all 
 you re allowed, on special license, costs ten 
 
2QO SIMBA 
 
 pound. Of course I ll certificate your ivory as 
 coming from outside. But it s lucky you have no 
 cow ivory. You told me you had no cow ivory, 
 did you not? They hadn t told him that, but 
 they nodded back at him, waiting. Contra 
 band; absolutely/ he told them. Confiscated 
 wherever found; goes to the government. 
 
 "They returned to their own camp as soon as 
 possible. The bulk of their wealth, of their two 
 years work in the waterless thorn, was in cow 
 ivory. There was but one opinion : It must be 
 hidden, pending better understanding of the con 
 ditions, and since natives are notoriously uncer 
 tain and leaky, it must be hidden secretly and at 
 once. That was no light problem. Think it over; 
 several camel loads of ivory to move; several 
 dozen of their own men to avoid; only one black, 
 an old gunbearer, they could thoroughly trust. 
 Finally they called the leading Somalis, made 
 them load the camels; and then three of the whites 
 started out alone with the gunbearer. The fourth, 
 his elephant rifle across his arm, sat by a big fire 
 in the clear light of which were huddled the per 
 sonnel of the party. Not a man was allowed to* 
 
COW IVORY 291 
 
 move a foot for any purpose whatsoever. All 
 night long they sat there in grim silence. The 
 dawn broke; daylight came; the sun rose. From 
 across the river were heard the sounds of activity 
 in the soldiers camp. The watcher must have 
 become very anxious. At last the three white men 
 and the gunbearer and the camels returned. 
 They were all exhausted, for it must be remem 
 bered they had been travelling practically since 
 the morning before. The man in the chair laid 
 aside his elephant gun." 
 
 "By Jove, Culbertson, you tell it well," said 
 Marshlands in the pause that ensued. Carson 
 made no remark. The big man nodded in an 
 absent-minded fashion. He was staring straight 
 ahead of him, far out into the soft velvet curtain 
 of the tropical night, as though he were actually 
 seeing beyond the hills, beyond the years, to the 
 dry, hot, flinty thorn scrub of the Guaso Nyero. 
 
 "They d buried it," his deep, booming voice 
 went on after awhile "you know buried ivory is 
 good forever doesn t hurt it to go underground. 
 Being white men, and intelligent ones, they had 
 buried it barely beyond earshot of the camp 
 
292 SIMBA 
 
 just as well there as anywhere else. The rest of 
 the night they had put in trekking around here, 
 there and everywhere, so that anybody following 
 the spoor wouldn t get much of anywhere. 
 Plenty tried it. There were twenty-odd deser 
 tions that day; and every mother s son took the 
 back track of those camels. Somalis are no 
 fools. They already had the news from the other 
 camp that cow ivory was contraband; and they 
 were quite capable of putting two and two to 
 gether. Fat lot of good it did them. They all 
 overshot the mark; never occurred to any of them 
 that it could be so near camp. Any of em except 
 one old camel driver. He overshot too, but he 
 soon came back. How he knew I don t know; 
 perhaps he was like that old Johnny in the Arabian 
 nights who deduced so much from tracks, and 
 knew when the camels had gone on light. Any 
 how he came back, and began to grub around with 
 a stick perilous close to the proper place. The gun- 
 bearer, who was up a tree watching for something 
 like that, reported it to the white men in camp. 
 One of them went out and attended to the case." 
 "How s that?" asked Carson. 
 
COW IVORY 293 
 
 "Scuppered him." 
 
 "Not killed him?" 
 
 Kingozi turned a wide stare on the young man. 
 There was in it something blank, inscrutable, 
 sinister. It was as though through the soft night 
 had come a breath from the fierce veldt, as though 
 for an instant veils had been rent showing the 
 face of Africa. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Kingozi simply, after a 
 moment. He looked away. 
 
 "If I were writing a story, I should call that 
 the end of Part One," he went on. "And in 
 writing the heading Part Two, I should add 
 Ten Years Later!" 
 
 "But what became of the ivory?" interrupted 
 Carson. 
 
 "It is there yet most of it buried, and only 
 five living men know exactly where." 
 
 "Why hasn t it been taken out?" asked young 
 Carson. 
 
 "It is impossible to get it out the owners 
 would like well enough to realize on it." 
 
 Carson jerked his legs from the arm-extensions 
 of his chair and sat upright. 
 
294 SIMBA 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that all that wealth 
 has remained buried there for years simply 
 because these men couldn t get it out of the 
 country?" 
 
 "Precisely that," replied Kingozi. 
 
 "But " 
 
 "I know; but, believe me, the expedient you 
 are about to suggest whatever it is has been 
 thought of, and canvassed, and reluctantly aban 
 doned long years ago. It looks simple a big, 
 wild continent, thousands of miles of unpoliced 
 coastline. In reality, it is an impossible situation. 
 I m not going to canvass the possibilities there 
 are too many of them, but I ll run over a few. 
 It is impossible to get it out through British East 
 Africa, that s agreed. The stuff is contraband, 
 and is confiscated where found. Suppose we try 
 the East coast anywhere; it is a good three 
 months journey from where the ivory is buried 
 to the sea; natives cannot keep a secret; many 
 bearers would be required to carry out that 
 amount of ivory; the route would have to be led 
 somewhere through savage tribes. Long before 
 the three months were up the authorities would 
 
COW IVORY 295 
 
 have wind of the expedition. Dispassionate figur 
 ing shows the chances to be a hundred to one 
 against. The same objection applies to an attempt 
 to pass to the south toward German or better 
 Portuguese ports. The route leads through 
 Uganda. The south and east are therefore closed/ 
 
 He paused to draw on his cheroot. His com 
 panions, their interest thoroughly intrigued, 
 considered the problem attentively, with knitted 
 brows. Lord Marshland was the first to drop 
 back to a reclining position. 
 
 "You re right," he acknowledged. 
 
 "But " interposed Carson again. Kingozi 
 
 silenced him with a wave of the hand. 
 
 "There remain the north and the west. Un 
 doubtedly that ivory could be carried up through 
 Abyssinia to some port on the Red Sea and 
 thence distributed to the markets of the world. 
 But it would not arrive as a single consignment. 
 Long before it would have dissipated, a tusk here, 
 a tusk there, in honga to the avarice of the various 
 petty chiefs, sultans, viziers, and other potentates 
 through whose territory the caravan must march. 
 No nation has ever got much change out of the 
 
2 9 6 SIMBA 
 
 Abyssinians. If the original owners retained five 
 per cent, of what they started with, they would 
 be considered extremely lucky. In fact, I should 
 consider them extremely lucky to get through 
 alive. As to Somaliland, that would be a case of 
 spear and loot without fail. The Somalis are a 
 handsome and engaging people; but as has been 
 recently discovered theirs is a poor coast on which 
 to be wrecked. To the west is the width of the 
 African continent. All the objections to the 
 other routes apply to this." 
 
 "But, look here " interposed Carson for the 
 
 third time. 
 
 "It looks easy at first," said Kingozi, "but 
 before you commit yourself, take time to think 
 it over. If at the end of three days you still 
 have a scheme that looks feasible, let me know. 
 I ll put you in communication with some men 
 who will make you money!" He chuckled. 
 " Quite a few have that offer under advisement. 
 
 "We now come to what might be called Part 
 Three of the yarn. Leading characters are an 
 Englishman and his young brother, whom we will 
 call Braxton; and one of the four ivory hunters 
 
COW IVORY 297 
 
 whom I will designate as Middleton. The two 
 Englishmen were going out to East Africa as 
 settlers. I met them all on one of the German 
 ships, and for the usual three weeks saw a good 
 deal of them as we wallowed and broiled down 
 the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean. Our company 
 was limited. There were the usual lot of petty 
 German civil and military officers bound for Dar 
 es-salaam, gross, brusque, disagreeable, drinking 
 from morning until night, noisy by evening, their 
 heads shaved close to show pink knobs, hiving by 
 themselves and everybody glad of it I suppose 
 they send their cubs down to fill the petty offices 
 in their colonies. Also there were a Greek en 
 gineer and his Roumanian bride, a Belgian 
 officer in charge of blooded horses to improve 
 their stock in the upper Congo, three or four 
 English and Americans going out for a shoot, a 
 Commercial Agent or so you know the lot. 
 None of them interested me a great deal except 
 those settler chaps. The elder, Seton Braxton, 
 was the ordinary clean-cut young fellow of just 
 under thirty, tanned, likeable, untrained to lab 
 our or the organization of his life, like plenty 
 
298 SIMBA 
 
 others of his class, clipping his speech short, game 
 for anything, high ideas but not much judgment, 
 good example of your class, Marshlands, before 
 it gets the hard knocks." 
 
 The nobleman bowed his ironic acknowledg 
 ments. 
 
 "But the youngster, who was called Charley, 
 was a different sort. He had short curly hair, 
 bright dancing eyes, rosy boyish cheeks, rounded 
 chin, and small hands and feet. He was a slirr: 
 chap, but fully in charge of himself made of 
 whipcord the slender but graceful thing, you 
 know. His voice was low and had a rich quality, 
 except when he got excited or laughed. Then it 
 ran up to a treble. I should have said he was 
 just past the change of his voice. 
 
 "Everybody took to Charley immediately, 
 even those little noisy German officers. He had 
 an insatiate curiosity was all over the ship, 
 investigating everything, asking the most absurd 
 questions. I used to wonder where and how the 
 boy had been brought up; he possessed a fine 
 mind, and had been well educated, but he had the 
 most astonishing blank places of ignorance, often 
 
COW IVORY 299 
 
 about the most ordinary things, that the majority 
 of men get as matters of practical experience. 
 My conclusion that he had probably been brought 
 up under shelter was corroborated by the care 
 taken of him by his older brother. He looked 
 after Charley like a dry nurse. I often wondered 
 why the youngster did not resent this surveillance 
 most boys of spirit would have been inclined to 
 kick over the traces. After all, a boy has to 
 begin to go among men some time; and we were a 
 pretty decent lot, as men go. Some of the more 
 irresponsible concocted some sort of scheme to 
 lure Charley into the smoking room and get him 
 a bit tight. Sort of do the kid good; but Seton 
 Braxton looked competent in some ways, and the 
 scheme fell through. 
 
 "As I learned their situation, I felt a trifle sick 
 over it; but I didn t say a word. No use being a 
 bird of ill-omen unless it will do some practical 
 good. 
 
 "They were only sons, no collateral relatives, 
 two thousand pounds in cash realized from the 
 sale of their estate, and they were going out to 
 East Africa as settlers!" 
 
300 SIMBA 
 
 Kingozi had forgotten that he was for the 
 moment ! a peaceful and responsible Ship s Agent 
 and had become again in spirit the old Afrikander 
 the elephant hunter, with the hunter s large and 
 generous contempt of and distrust in all settling. 
 
 "If there is one country in the world," he w^ent 
 on with emphasis, "that is not a white man s 
 country to settle in it is East Africa. Oh, I 
 know all the stock arguments; I ve read em by 
 the ream in beautiful printed pamphlets issued 
 by railroads, promoters and Governments! But 
 I ve lived here a good many years. There s a 
 curse on the country. Perhaps some day it will 
 be lifted science, inoculation, drainage who 
 knows?" His eye had become dreamy with 
 speculation. He came back with a snap. "But 
 now? Marshlands, can you pick me out six 
 men I d say one, if it were not for the fact that 
 there is always a percentage of ineradicable folly 
 six men, owning land, who have been in this 
 country three years or over, whose property is not 
 for sale?" 
 
 Lord Marshlands smiled and shook his grizzled 
 head. 
 
COW IVORY 301 
 
 "You have the floor. I m not going to dispute 
 you or corroborate you," he evaded diplomati 
 cally. 
 
 "Finest looking country in the world. Good 
 climate in the highlands. A man does well for a 
 while, and then something new comes along and 
 hits him, something he never heard of before, 
 some novelty in the way of wheat blights, or 
 cattle disease and he s wiped off the slate. 
 Country s still there." Kingozi snorted explo 
 sively. "And no matter how healthy a man can 
 keep himself, it s no place to raise children; and if 
 you can t raise children it isn t a white man s 
 country. Yet they lure em out here with their 
 folders and their lies, and turn em loose, and to 
 hell with em!" 
 
 "You said you d been here some years, didn t 
 you?" interposed Carson, with a blank, too- 
 innocent expression. 
 
 Kingozi roared out his great laugh. 
 
 " Fair hit, youngster ! " he acknowledged. "But 
 I m not a settler. I m out for a free life, adven 
 ture I don t know what. Dreeing my wierd, I 
 suppose. And make no mistake, it s the greatest 
 
3 o2 SI MB A 
 
 country in the world to the adventurous spirit. 
 It s the last frontier. What the race is going to 
 use to bite on when it is gone I can t imagine 
 however, I won t be here. Fortunately most young 
 fellows who think they come out here to be set 
 tlers, really, down deep, are after adventure, 
 romance. It is romantic, you know. Even I, 
 after all these years of it, have still a full apprecia 
 tion. 
 
 "I must say the B rax tons had gone into it 
 deeper than most of the young fools who rush out 
 here blind. The youngster, Charley, was a per 
 fect storehouse of book theory. He had read 
 everything ever printed on the subject, I should 
 think. And somebody in the firm had a level 
 head. I rather suspect Charley, again. Anyway, 
 he explained it to me in a sort of eager way he 
 had. 
 
 " You see we can t afford to make mistakes/ 
 he told me. We ve got this two thousand pounds, 
 and we neither of us have been taught to get an 
 other. So we ve looked into matters pretty deeply 
 and it seems more sensible to us to go in for some 
 thing that naturally grows in the country rather 
 
COW IVORY 303 
 
 than to try to go in for things like wheat or wool- 
 sheep that aren t indigenous/ 
 
 "I approved of that, and asked him what it was. 
 
 " Coffee/ said he. 
 
 "Then, seeing I was interested, he opened up 
 on coffee. You d have no idea there was so 
 much to know about coffee. By the time Charley 
 had finished with me he had my brain convinced 
 that it was a sure thing I couldn t pick a flaw 
 anywhere in the scheme. But I was an old Afri 
 kander; and there was something way down deep 
 inside of me that wasn t convinced. There s a 
 curse on the country, that s all there is to it. 
 But I didn t tell Charley that; what was the use? 
 He was all sanguine and sure. I was not so certain 
 about Seton. He always hovered around un 
 easily, very silent, pulling his short moustache, 
 and in his eyes an anxiety that Charley did not 
 have. 
 
 "Well, I m not going to spin this out, for I 
 didn t start to tell you about the Braxtons coffee 
 plantation. We landed at Mombasa and im 
 mediately went up country. I started into 
 the French Congo after ivory. Fine trip, all but 
 
304 SIMBA 
 
 the finish. We lost most of our ivory because a 
 pestiferous little French official went farther east 
 than he had ever gone before. I suppose we were 
 poaching technically. 
 
 "When I got back to Nairobi and had seen all 
 my friends I found that the Braxtons had found 
 some land that was suitable out Fort Hall way. 
 On my way to hunt elephants in Kenia I stopped 
 to see them. They were living in a grass-roofed 
 hut one of these circular affairs built of papyrus 
 stalks, dirt floor, peaked roof. Had out a be 
 wildering lot of young coffee plants which they 
 were cultivating themselves with the aid of what 
 ever Kikuyus they could pick up. Living on 
 buck, of which there were plenty, and mealie- 
 meal mostly. Seton Braxton had killed his first 
 lion, and Charley had been there to see; they had 
 poison out for a leopard that had been hanging 
 around; every time they went down near a papy 
 rus swamp on their place they stood a chance 
 of having to dodge a crossgrained old lot of 
 buffalo; were anxiously figuring on keeping zebras 
 out of their garden; heard hyenas every night 
 in fact, were living in a regular story book of 
 
COW IVORY 305 
 
 romance. All they needed was a little income to 
 make the whole thing a howling success." 
 
 Kingozi grunted, and shifted his weight. The 
 teak-wood chair creaked violently, and at the 
 sound the alert, white-clad figure sprang from the 
 shadow of the archway to his side. 
 
 "Bwana nataka nini?" inquired Simba. 
 
 " Hapana" negatived Kingozi, and theboy faded 
 away again. "Some years later the coffee plants 
 grew up and began bearing. Oodles of coffee 
 berries. All that was required was to pick and 
 sack them and cart them out. Then the income! 
 Only difficulty with that little scheme was that 
 there was nobody to pick and sack. The farm, 
 mind you, was just off Kenia, right in the heart of 
 the Kikuyu country. Every day down the track 
 past the Braxtons door minced and teetered 
 enough able-bodied dandies to have taken care of 
 ten farms the size of Braxtons . They had on 
 their best feather or tripe headdresses, their 
 best oiled goat-skins, their shiniest brass wire 
 armlets and jewellery; they were glistening with 
 castor oil and red paint-clay until they looked like 
 bronze; each carried his spear and his length of 
 
SIMBA 
 
 sugar cane but there weren t ten ounces of work 
 in the lot. From their point of view why should 
 they work? they had all they wanted. 
 
 "But," and in the vehemence of his contention 
 Kingozi sat bolt upright, "from the point of view 
 of the settler the Braxton people who had been 
 lured out here by a paternal Government how 
 about them? Nobody had told them of any 
 shortage of labour! Indeed rather a point had 
 been made of the proximity of populous native 
 tribes. No white man can long perform violent 
 physical labour in that climate. He d need help 
 even if he did. The Braxtons made desperate 
 efforts. Direct dealing with the natives was of 
 little use. Appeals to and arguments with 
 representatives of Governments, from the local 
 D. C. s up to His Excellency, brought out only a 
 horrified uplifting of the hands over the idea of 
 forced labour !" 
 
 "Do you believe in forced labour?" asked Lord 
 Marshlands quietly. 
 
 "I don t know. But I believe in consistency. 
 If this is a black man s country, then we should 
 leave it to the black man. That s a perfectly 
 
COW IVORY 307 
 
 logical view; but if it is adopted, then on what 
 excuse do we allow settlers at all, let alone try to 
 attract them? If we admit the white man to a 
 hold at all, then we should do our best to make con 
 ditions liveable and at the same time to educate 
 the black from his savage condition. And the 
 first step toward that last is to teach him the 
 dignity and necessity of labour. Of course he 
 wouldn t undertake it of his own accord; but then 
 mighty few children go to school of their own 
 accord. But we don t let children off from school 
 just because they don t want to go. That s 
 forced labour. When you come down to it, most 
 labour is forced by one thing or another. But 
 I m not going into economics; I m trying to tell 
 a story. Point is that no government has a right 
 to take up the white man s burden without im 
 proving the subject race; and no government has 
 a right to decoy in settlers and leave em in the 
 lurch. When the two exist side by side, it s just 
 foolish. 
 
 " However, there you are. Braxtons with every 
 cent invested, a good property, and no means to 
 work it. They managed to get a little fly-by- 
 
3 o8 SIMBA 
 
 night labour from time to time, and shipped out 
 a little coffee, of course; but they ran behind, and 
 they worried themselves sick over it, their coffee 
 bushes deteriorated, and they were headed straight 
 for trouble. Course they borrowed from that 
 German Jew chap in Nairobi as much as he d 
 advance, which merely got them in deeper. 
 
 "Now enter one of the owners of the buried cow 
 ivory. Remember I told you there was one on 
 the ship going out I called him Middleton? 
 Well, he was hunting professionally up in that 
 Kenia district, saw a good deal of the B rax tons, 
 and got interested. Soft-hearted sort of chap. 
 The elder B rax ton he was sorry for, and all that, 
 but young Charley especially got him. As things 
 grew worse and worse, the young fellow s spirits 
 gradually died out. He was game all right, and 
 whistled and sang around as gaily as ever, but any 
 one who knew and liked him could see that the 
 whimsical upward quirk to the corners of his 
 mouth in repose was becoming a wistful downward 
 quirk; and, I don t know why it was, but that little 
 fact was more pathetic, more harrowing yes, 
 more heartbreaking than actual starvation and 
 
COW IVORY 309 
 
 want would have been. It was like the extinguish 
 ing of a brave bright flame." 
 
 Kingozi gulped at his glass of lime juice and 
 soda. Lord Marshlands glanced at him covertly, 
 and smiled a secret little smile. 
 
 "It struck Middleton that way. He did all he 
 could for them, even to bullying old Kurioki for 
 men. Kurioki sent down a few, because he liked 
 Middleton, and they stuck for awhile, but their 
 enthusiasm died, and so did Kurioki s, and his help 
 proved only a palliative. Middleton had no 
 money what hunter ever did have? He offered 
 them what he had saved, when they all came to 
 the point of discussing the situation. The Brax- 
 f ons refused. Seton had good sense; he pointed 
 out that what was needed was a round sum to 
 carry out a scheme he had evolved for importing 
 Indians. He had faith in it, but he could get no 
 one else to believe in it to the extent of financing 
 him. Then after a time Middleton told of this 
 cache of cow ivory. He did not tell them that in 
 doing so he was breaking a solemn agreement 
 with his three partners in the enterprise, for they 
 had promised each other that no attempt should 
 
3io SIMBA 
 
 be made to remove the ivory unless all were con 
 sulted and all involved. Middleton was a man of 
 experience, the soul of honour. I do not suppose 
 he had ever before broken a promise in his life. 
 In breaking this one he sacrificed his self-respect 
 utterly I believe that s what we started to talk 
 about, wasn t it ? By his campfire of evenings he 
 used to hate himself. Probably a dozen times he 
 resolved to throw the whole matter over, to bury 
 himself in the French Congo. What were the 
 Braxtons to him? Nevertheless, preparations went 
 forward. For the three of them had evolved a 
 scheme. This, I repeat, is the sacrifice I spoke of. 
 Its magnitude you could understand only by under 
 standing the sort of a man Middleton had been. 
 
 The agreement was, I believe, that they were 
 to unearth Middleton s share of the cow ivory, 
 convey it to the coast, sell it, and with the net 
 proceeds rescue the coffee plantation with Indian 
 coolies. Middleton was to have some share in the 
 farm. Then they were all to sail booming to im 
 mense prosperity. Personally, I don t believe 
 Middleton had any glowing faith in it as a com 
 mercial venture: his interest was red cheeked, 
 
COW IVORY 311 
 
 curly haired, dancing eyed Charley, with the 
 mouth whose corners were becoming wistful. 
 
 "It took lots of talk to settle the details. 
 Middleton put it pretty strong that their help in 
 getting out the ivory was worth fifty per cent, of 
 its value to him, and that giving him a share in the 
 farm was almost overdoing it before the Braxtons 
 would go in. As it was, they were pathetically 
 grateful. Then they had to settle the small de 
 tail of how to get the stuff out. That took lots 
 more talk. I can see the earnest little group around 
 the board table under the peak of the grass hut, 
 a paraffin lamp throwing their shadows against 
 the jumble of things such structures contain 
 rifles, saddles, kibokos, water bottles Middleton s 
 boy, Simba, with the painted filed teeth of his 
 tribe showing through his perpetual half grin, 
 squatted by the wattle door, and outside the voices 
 of the African night. Schemes that would have 
 looked absurd across commonplace mahogany 
 took on a semblance of possibility here. I must 
 repeat, it was all romantic, what with the cries 
 of hyenas and the roar of lions outside you ll 
 soon hear it, Carson." 
 
312 SIMBA 
 
 Kingozi sighed, stared distastefully, as one 
 new-awakened at the dim, motionless palm tops 
 opposite, and resumed: 
 
 "They evolved this; and it was really not bad. 
 Middleton picked up forty donkeys. This number 
 they figured would suffice to pack the ivory and 
 necessary provisions. With them they took 
 Simba and four Wakamba known to Middleton. 
 It was given out that they were bound on a 
 trading expedition to the Rendile. That was 
 plausible enough, as half the settlers in the Protec 
 torate drift into trading, sooner or later, to eke 
 out their farms. To carry out the illusion they 
 sacked dummy loads of trade goods. As far as 
 Meru boma they treated themselves to the luxury 
 of plenty of donkey drivers; but from Meru 
 secrecy was desirable, so they sacked that lot 
 and went on alone with their Wakambas. I did 
 not tell you the plan, did I? It was to pack the 
 donkeys down the Guaso Nyero toward Lorian, 
 then to strike boldly across the desert country in 
 an attempt to hit the headwaters of a stream now 
 called the McKinnon. If they found that, they 
 were sure of water. Down the McKinnon they 
 
COW IVORY 313 
 
 would trek until it joined the Tana. At the Tana 
 they intended to construct canoes dug-outs in 
 which to float to the sea. The donkeys, in charge 
 of two of the Wakamba, would return leisurely 
 up the Tana. Once at the coast a native dhow 
 would sail them up-coast to the mouth of the Juba, 
 
 whence a tramp steamer 
 
 "It was a perfectly plausible scheme. But do 
 you know its defect? It had no margin of safety. 
 Forty donkeys no less were required for trans 
 porting the loads. Three canoes would be neces 
 sary, with two men in each making isix and 
 that with the two donkey men covered the 
 personnel. If things worked out just right, if there 
 
 were no delays, if no men got sick or were killed 
 
 The Braxtons saw no flaw in it at all. Middleton, 
 an old experienced hand, perceived the weakness 
 but found no way to remedy it. More men 
 meant more supplies, more donkeys, more danger 
 of leakage and, above all, more money! Al 
 though he did not say so, Middleton had fairly 
 pawned his watch to get together what he had. 
 I do not think he can fairly be blamed. He used 
 his best judgment and experience; and really 
 
314 SIMBA 
 
 managed to spread inadequate resources pretty 
 thin. 
 
 "From Meru boma to Campi ya Nyama Yangu 
 \s two days march. It was only the evening of 
 the tenth day, however, that they were well away 
 with the ivory. The three whites and Simba had 
 dug it up, carried it tusk by tusk to some little 
 distance, and then Middleton and Simba had 
 skillfully obliterated their trail. Only then did 
 Middleton bring up the other Wakamba. He 
 thought he could trust them, but there was no 
 sense in sharing the secret with too many. 
 
 "You, Marshlands, know what these people 
 were up against. Carsons cannot appreciate it 
 until he has packed donkeys African donkeys. 
 The saddling, loading, and driving of them is not 
 only exhausting physical labour, but is the most 
 exasperating, patience-breaking devil of a job 
 natives get on with it fairly well, because they 
 take cussedness repeated as part of the scheme 
 of the unwise, but it is no white man s work. In 
 this instance white men had to do it. Then the 
 brutes have to be herded and grazed by daylight 
 and each night a dense thorn boma has to be cut 
 
COW IVORY 315 
 
 and built. Somebody has to keep up fires! Why? 
 Because donkeys are a lion s idea of caviare to 
 coffee inclusive. Even full manned a donkey 
 safari is bad; undermanned it is hell. 
 
 They marched two days down the Guaso Nyero, 
 and then filled their waterskins and struck across. 
 Nobody in the party had ever been to the Mc- 
 Kinnon, but Simba had talked with a Wakamba 
 hunter, and thought he knew of a kopje that 
 would give them a direction. That Guaso Nyero 
 country, a hundred yards from the river, is dry as 
 a bone, grown with scattering low thorn trees, 
 covered with tinkling flinty little stones. As the 
 elevation is low, it is fearfully hot. The thorn 
 scrub has plenty of game at certain seasons and 
 too many rhinos always. It s bad enough when 
 you know just where you re going. These people 
 had a cruising radius of three days by the end 
 of that time the donkeys had to have water. 
 They planned to reach out two days, and then, if 
 unsuccessful, to scuttle back in one to the Guaso 
 Nyero and take a fresh start. Naturally they left 
 most of the donkeys and the ivory until they had 
 scouted a way. At the third trial they struck the 
 
SIMBA 
 
 McKinnon. It was much nearer than they had 
 supposed, in fact only a few hours march. But, 
 notice, I said they made two other hard trials. 
 Keep] track of the cruel work they were doing, 
 for I shall ask you later to appreciate its 
 effects. 
 
 "On their way back from discovering the oasis 
 of thick jungle and trees in which the McKinnon 
 took its rise, they met Simba in light travelling 
 order. Simba had been left with the donkeys, but 
 had followed the scouting party by its spoor. 
 
 " Bwana/ said he, two donkeys are dead, and 
 two more are sick. 
 
 "They hurried back to camp, full of foreboding. 
 Middleton caught one of the apparently healthy 
 beasts and pinched the skin of the neck between 
 his thumb and forefinger. Instead of springing 
 back elastically, the skin remained in a ridge that 
 only slowly subsided. Hastily he proceeded from 
 one to another applying this test. He returned to 
 where Seton and Charley were staring dolefully 
 at the dead beasts. 
 
 " Nine teen of the creatures are struck by tse 
 tse, he told them briefly. We have seventeen 
 
COW IVORY 317 
 
 healthy animals. I don t know where they ran 
 into the fly; if here, they may all be down by 
 morning. 
 
 "He told them what he knew. Four of the 
 animals the two that were dead and the two 
 Simba had described as sick J were out of it. The 
 nineteen fly-struck beasts might last six hours or 
 six months. Sooner or later they would surely 
 die, but they would be perfectly strong and 
 serviceable to the very hour of their doom. 
 
 " The first time they get wet or chilled, they 
 are gone, said Middleton. 
 
 "They discussed the situation, and at length 
 decided to push on. To turn back now was 
 certain ruin. Nobody knew how far distant was 
 the Tana, but it was hoped that three weeks 
 would suffice. The donkeys ought to last that 
 long. They solved the problem of the four lost 
 beasts by abandoning some of their outfit and 
 several loads of provisions. 
 
 "So they started. The McKinnon heads in a 
 big area of scrub forest where incidentally were 
 all kinds of elephant sign which soon thins to a 
 narrow jungle strip. On either hand the country 
 
318 SIMBA 
 
 is dry, barren, and hot, grown sparsely with 
 mimosas. Game was fairly abundant; which was 
 fortunate, for they depended largely on it. Ordi 
 narily they could have made the journey in two 
 weeks; but actually it took them six. This was 
 because a dozen of the donkeys succumbed to a 
 stray shower wandering from Kenia the only 
 time it had rained for six or eight months, I 
 suppose. After that they were forced to relay 
 back and forth, a tiresome process, as each march 
 had to be made three tunes. However, they 
 landed at the Tana finally, so that was all right. 
 But the point, the great point one you, Carson, 
 well-found, well-fed, well-nourished, will be unable 
 to appreciate when you safari up there was that 
 instead of a two weeks picnic they had undergone 
 two months of the hardest physical labour and 
 mental anxiety, in the worst of climates. Seton 
 was a frail brown ghost of himself; and Middleton, 
 tough old stager as he was, recognized deep within 
 him that drained, exhausted feeling that is the 
 beginning of the dread listlessness of the tropics. 
 Charley s round cheeks had thinned, but his 
 laughing spirit was unquenched. To tell the 
 
COW IVORY 319 
 
 truth, he had been much spared without his 
 knowledge by the older men. 
 
 " However, there they were, and the wide, 
 brown Tana rolling sullenly by. They rested two 
 days, and then, leaving the ivory, they marched 
 down stream to determine where were the last of 
 the rapids. Then while two of the Wakamba, 
 under direction of Middleton, chewed away at 
 making dug-outs, the rest relayed the treasure to 
 the spot. 
 
 "The making of the canoes was a terrible 
 labour. Not every species of African tree will 
 float; indeed, most go to the bottom like lead. 
 Then, as you can imagine, it is desirable to find 
 one as near the bank as possible. However, at 
 last they were finished; and the product floated, 
 right side up. The white men were even more 
 tired; but now, they told themselves, they could 
 rest. The broad Tana would bear them to the 
 sea. They left the donkeys, and two of the men, 
 and set sail. 
 
 "Followed day after day of paddling and float 
 ing, sometimes through high forest growths, some 
 times in blasted thorn scrub, always on the pol- 
 
3 2o SIMBA 
 
 lished, brown, shiny, sullen surface of the sinister 
 stream, with the sun scorching them like a burning 
 glass when it could. Crocodiles slipped from the 
 mud banks as they approached, hippos by the 
 score blew and snorted at them, going down 
 at the last moment like submarines, staring at 
 them with bulging eyes. At night they tried to 
 get back to higher land, away from the river; and 
 at first in the upper reaches they succeeded, but 
 soon the Tana took to its incredible windings in 
 the lowlands, and this was impossible. Seton was 
 the first to get the fever. He had a bad go." 
 Kingozi turned to the young Englishman. "Afri 
 can fever hits you very suddenly. You feel as 
 right as a trivet one moment, and the next, plop! 
 you re down and off your head. Seton s go 
 lasted five days and left him weak as a cat. They 
 rigged him a place to lie, but his canoe, short 
 handed, was slow. No sooner was he over it 
 than Middleton came down. Middleton was 
 pretty well salted/ and his goes of fever were 
 lighter than those of a newcomer. The Wakamba, 
 too, had their share. Only Simba and young 
 Charley escaped. Don t know what they d have 
 
COW IVORY 321 
 
 done without Charley just then. He was as 
 good as a hospital nurse. Got thin under it, and 
 looked pretty tired; but they were all that. 
 
 "The middle Tana is crooked. On every point 
 are native huts. About every ten miles is a 
 native sultan of one sort or another. Nowadays 
 they know all about white men; but then they 
 weren t broken in to our noble race, and they had 
 to be treated diplomatically. If there is anything 
 in the world that fills the soul with a greater 
 weariness than, after a hard day when rest is the 
 one thing that a man needs, to be forced to enter 
 tain a lot of savages, I d like to know what it is! 
 They don t need rest, the beggars! They re cheer 
 fully willing to sit up all night if it proves amus 
 ing; and it paid, then, to be amusing! Doesn t 
 sound like much, does it? Wouldn t have been 
 much to fresh, well-fed men. These people had 
 done too much, had exposed themselves to too 
 much hardship for the tropics, were too full of 
 fever. Their nerves were stretched to breaking. 
 But they had to keep a firm hold and a smiling 
 face, and converse elaborately over nothing with 
 childish, naked savages, and do little tricks, and 
 
322 SIMBA 
 
 otherwise, a spear in the back, you understand. 
 But that isn t fair. The natives treated them 
 well native fashion. They came through alive 
 and unrobbed. It is the nature of the African 
 to love his shauri. But when they turned in, 
 often they could not sleep, exhausted as they were. 
 They lay awake staring upward, and the hippos 
 boomed, and the dreadful, untiring fever-owl ut 
 tered its note over and over until they thought 
 they would go mad. 
 
 "As the Tana approaches the coast its over 
 flow bed widens. In the dry season it sulks slug 
 gishly through the most twisted channel possible. 
 If it were any more crooked, the river would 
 not know which way to go. In the rainy season 
 it overflows and forms a vast sea. There are 
 more hippos to the square mile down there than 
 any place I know. , 
 
 "They had anticipated reaching the sea before 
 the monsoons, but you can imagine their delays, 
 and the monsoons began early. It came on to 
 rain. The river rose in a night, and the banks 
 overflowed. For three days they were wet, they 
 were unable to land, they had no fire, they ate no 
 
COW_IVORY 323 
 
 cooked food. Nothing much, plenty of us have 
 done the like; but I am wasting a lot of breath if 
 I have not conveyed to you what an accumula 
 tion of little things means. Seton had fallen 
 into a black melancholia. He was very weak 
 from his fever, he could not eat, he could not 
 sleep, he had been much in the sun. Most of the 
 time he plied his paddle feebly and stared at the 
 bottom of the canoe. The only time he showed a 
 spark of animation was when Charley, his merry 
 face concealing a deep anxiety, deliberately made 
 fun. Then Seton s spark of spirit stirred deep 
 down within him, and he achieved a slow, tired 
 smile. Of course you know what happened 
 next." 
 
 Lord Marshlands nodded. 
 
 "I ve seen em like that and so had Middle- 
 ton, I fancy." 
 
 "You must believe me, Middleton thoroughly 
 realized. He scarcely slept; but he could not 
 achieve the impossible. The shot waked him 
 from a sound sleep, but he was on his feet before 
 the report had died. The men knew, too. They 
 were already squatted close about their little 
 
324 SIMBA 
 
 fire, chattering together, and glancing toward the 
 dim, huddled outline on the white man s bed. 
 Only Charley, who as usual had slept somewhat 
 apart, was at first undisturbed. After a moment 
 he raised himself sleepily on his elbow and asked 
 what was the row. 
 
 " Shot at a hyena/ Middleton told him briefly. 
 
 " Satisfied with this he fell back asleep. 
 
 "Middleton had until morning to figure on 
 meeting the situation. He sat staring into the 
 fire. The hippos were booming, and the moon 
 was striking dimly through a mist. It was a 
 disagreeable, almost an impossible, task this 
 breaking the news he realized fully that he should 
 give his mind to it. Strangely enough, for the 
 moment he could not do so. He thought of 
 all kinds of trivial things that circled widely, 
 ever drawing toward a centre, until he was brood 
 ing sadly on that most awful of messages Africa 
 tells the shortness of time, the flickering pas 
 sage of years, how quickly it all hardship, toil, 
 thirst, disease that at the time seemed inescap 
 able and interminable becomes a thing of yes 
 terday. And in that light for the moment he 
 
COW IVORY 325 
 
 saw the present crisis, the camp by the sullen, 
 eternal river shrouded in the mists of the moon, 
 and the miasma became as small as a pin-point. 
 
 " This, too, will pass, he muttered to himself 
 out of the only comforting philosophy Africa 
 leaves her sons. His head suddenly blew to vast 
 dimensions 
 
 "The next thing he saw was a canopy of leaves 
 close over his head. The shadow lay dense be 
 neath it. He heard the gurgle of waters and felt 
 a slight, unstable lurch, so he knew he was in a 
 canoe. Before him, wielding a paddle, he rec 
 ognized the slight form of Charley. Behind him 
 he heard the steady swishing of another paddle. 
 
 "After a few moments he had gathered his 
 faculties. 
 
 " Charley/ he called huskily. 
 
 "The boy turned. Middleton was choked into 
 silence at his appearance. The roundness, the 
 colour of his cheeks was gone. His eyes were 
 sunken in their sockets; his lips were parted over 
 his teeth. In his weakened state Middleton re 
 ceived the shock as a man receives a blow in the 
 chest. But he was an old Afrikander, accustomed 
 
326 SIMBA 
 
 to an iron discipline and use of his faculties in 
 circumstances and under conditions where an 
 other would have considered himself too ill to 
 move. 
 
 " Where are we? he asked. 
 
 " On the river. 
 
 " How long have I been sick? 
 
 " Six days. 
 
 "Middleton struggled to a sitting position. 
 The river was empty except for themselves; and 
 he noticed that the canoe was riding high and 
 light. 
 
 " Where are the others? he asked. 
 
 " The Wakamba deserted all except Simba/ 
 Charley told him in a hard, level voice. We had 
 to abandon the other two canoes. 
 
 "Middleton digested this for some time. 
 
 " And the ivory? he inquired at length. 
 
 " Is buried back there/ said Charley still in a 
 hard voice with him/ he added under his 
 breath with infinite tenderness. 
 
 "They journeyed down the river. Middleton 
 now realized that his illness had been no mere 
 jungle fever; but that he had touched the edges 
 
COW IVORY 327 
 
 of the dreaded and fatal blackwater. He was 
 very weak. Day after day he lay on his back; 
 and he had full leisure to contemplate the wonder 
 of Charley. He pictured the dreadful moment of 
 discovery, alone save for old Simba and a delirious 
 man. And from that starting point his listless 
 mind went back foot by foot, day by day, to 
 Meru boma; and because he was very weak and 
 very tired, the tremendous weariness of it filled 
 his soul to the lip. Beneath it he lay inert, as a 
 mummied king might lie beneath the weight of a 
 thousand years. And he came to look on Charley 
 with a sort of awe, as a bright and shining spirit 
 of courage that could not be crushed. The mere 
 contemplation of the effort needed to buckle his 
 belt filled Middleton with a sick, dead disgust. 
 Yet Charley paddled, and cooked, and nursed 
 him, and carried on long, difficult negotiations 
 with savages and all the time he was bearing 
 the dead weight of those months of toil and the 
 living horror of that discovery at dawn. 
 
 "But the weakness began to ebb. Middleton 
 recommenced, feebly, to assume his hold on life 
 by doing little things, slowly, one at a time. 
 
328 SIMBA 
 
 And then, with new strength, came a great, un 
 spoken affection and tenderness for this spirit that 
 had refused to yield. 
 
 "About four o clock one afternoon they 
 rounded one of the numberless bends beneath the 
 cut banks of the river and saw the sea. Charley 
 stiffened in his place, then with a queer cry pitched 
 flat forward on his face. 
 
 "Simba carried him ashore and laid him under 
 a cocoanut tree, running immediately to the river 
 for water. Middleton tore apart the neckband of 
 Charley s shirt and stooped to listen at the heart. 
 During an instant he knelt, staring wildly. Then, 
 as he heard Simba s returning footsteps, he hastily 
 drew the shirt together again. For little Charley, 
 Charley of the soft cheeks, the dancing eyes, the 
 curling hair, the mouth with the corners that 
 quirked up, Charley of the indomitable spirit 
 was a girl!" 
 
 Kingozi s bold eyes were staring straight before 
 liim, and they were misted with tears. He gulped 
 quite frankly. 
 
 "That s about all there is to that yarn," he said 
 gruffly after a moment. "General disaster all 
 
COW IVORY 329 
 
 round. Farm mortgaged, every cent spent, 
 ivory still buried, brother dead. Nice cheerful 
 mess. Queer thing about it all was that the girl, 
 just as soon as she was found out, became all 
 girl. See what I mean? Up to that time she 
 had been doing two men s work, and running the 
 whole show. Now she just collapsed. Didn t 
 know what to do next, or where to turn. Middle- 
 ton knew all right. 
 
 " The Biship of Zanzibar is a friend of mine, 
 said he decidedly. We re going to get married. 
 
 "She looked him in the eyes. " 
 
 " You are a brave and true man, she said, Ibut 
 you do not mean that as I would have you mean 
 it. 
 
 "Middleton swore that he did, and he believed 
 it, but she persisted, and long afterward Middleton 
 knew that she was right. There was nothing 
 more to be said. They got into their canoe again 
 and proceeded to the mouth of the river. There 
 they found a green tent awaiting them. An 
 officer of the E. A. P. called them ashore. He 
 peered into the canoe. 
 
 " Where s your ivory? he asked. 
 
330 SIMBA 
 
 " But Middleton was a hundred percent. stronger 
 than he had been the day before. 
 
 " What ivory? he snapped back. f I want food 
 and transportation for myself and this young lady, 
 here. 
 
 " Young lady! says the officer. He looked 
 her over, and he looked Middleton over, and 
 Simba, and their outfit. That officer was no fool, 
 or he wouldn t be in the E. A. P.; he could add up 
 a simple sum. He grinned a little under his 
 moustache. And no ivory, he went on. Well, 
 I was sent down to arrest you for smuggling out 
 cow ivory, Middleton, but I fancy there s some 
 mistake. 
 
 "That s all, except that Middleton duly re 
 pented of his disloyalty to his partners, and con 
 fessed everything, ate humble pie, and got himself 
 forgiven. Fact remains that he sacrificed his 
 word and honour and self-respect. And really 
 at heart didn t give a damn. It s always that 
 way. And the ivory is all here yet, underground; 
 three quarters of it near the Guaso Nyero; the 
 other quarter, guarded by a dead man s bones, on 
 the lower Tana. As I remarked, Carson, if you 
 
COW IVORY 331 
 
 have any feasible schemes let me know. Well, 
 it s getting late, and the night wind is coming to 
 cool things off. Don t forget you re coming over 
 to tiffin with me to-morrow." 
 
 "But the girl?" cried Carson. 
 
 "Oh, she married the E. A. P. officer," replied 
 Kingozi. "That worry came out all right." 
 
 He heaved his great body from the teak-wood 
 lazy chair and stood upright, stretching his 
 muscles and looking blankly off into the darkness. 
 Suddenly, without another word, he stalked out, 
 followed by Simba as by his shadow. For a time 
 neither of the other men stirred. The night wind 
 from the Indian Ocean was just beginning to 
 rustle the bamboo curtains, and with it came the 
 first breath of the coolness that permitted sleep. 
 
 "By Jove!" murmured Carson at last; and fell 
 again into ruminative contemplation of Kingozi s 
 tale. A thought struck him. " Look here, Marsh 
 lands," he said. "Do you believe all that? It s 
 a topping yarn, of course, but how could Culbert- 
 son know all that that Johnny, Middleton, thought 
 and felt and all that? Rum, I call it!" 
 
 Lord Marshlands smiled quietly. 
 
332 SIMBA 
 
 "Didn t you gather that Culbertson was telling 
 his own story?" he asked. 
 
 Young Carson contemplated this idea. 
 
 "By Jove!" he exclaimed. Then after a 
 moment: "I wonder he didn t marry that girl. 
 She sounded ripping!" 
 
 Marshlands shook his head. 
 
 "No man knows the mysteries of Africa; and 
 no man yet has ever guessed the secrets of Kin- 
 gozi s heart," he said. 
 
 THE END 
 
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