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For these, his services, Michael Angelo received no payment; so he wished it to be stated in the moto proprio.
And we are many days' safari distant, and I am blind and cannot hurry." he three uttered little clucks of sympathy and interest. "But for all that we may win. You three men are my eyes and my right hand. I have a plan, and this is what you must do: Cazi Moto must stay with me to be headman of safari, and to be my eyes when we come to M'tela's land.
It is run by a man known as 'Big Jack' Clendenin who was once an actor and, I believe, met and fascinated Miss Curtis during her brief career on the stage. He has an attendant there, a Jap, named Nichi Moto, who is a perfect enigma. I can't understand him on any reasonable theory. A long time ago we raided the place and packed up a lot of opium, pipes, material and other stuff.
Gradually, but with increasing certainty, their course defines itself, until at last months later they come trotting into camp. These two jogged in broadly agrin. Cazi Moto and Simba led them at once to Kingozi's chair. "These men bring a barua for you, bwana," said Cazi Moto. Kingozi took the split wand with the letter thrust crosswise in the cleft. "Who sent them?" he asked.
"We must settle down to it. If you want tea or something to eat, tell Cazi Moto." He resumed his stolid demeanour. The dancing continued. Every once in a while women threw armfuls of fuel on the blaze. The tree hyraxes, out-screeched and outnumbered, fell into silence or withdrew. Above the stars shone serenely; and all about stood the trees of the ancient forest.
He had just gone back to his office at headquarters and there he had found a report of another murder. "Who is it?" asked Kennedy, "and why do you connect it with this case?" O'Connor's answer must have been a poser, judging from the look of surprise on Craig's face. "The Jap Nichi Moto?" he repeated.
The foothills began to sketch themselves, to separate from the ranges, finally to surround the travellers with the low swells of broken country. Running water replaced the still water- holes. Cazi Moto reported herds of goats in the distance. One evening several of the goatherds ventured into camp.
"Here, this won't do!" he said aloud. "If I get the wrong stuff in my eyes it will destroy them permanently." He raised his voice for Cazi Moto. "When Bibi-ya-chui is awake," he told the headman, "I want to see her. Tell her to come." Kingozi washed, dressed, had his breakfast, and sat quietly in his chair. In the open he found that he had a dim consciousness of light, but that was all.
Across the way, a half or three-quarters of a mile distant, beyond the green papyrus swamp, on the slope from the edge of the forest, appeared a long file of men bearing burdens on their heads. Even at this distance she made out the colour of occasional garments of khaki cloth, or the green of canvas on the packs. She arrived at Kingozi's side simultaneously with Cazi Moto.
"Cazi Moto is back there in the Thirst," suggested Kingozi, "and many others. And there is no water." "I will go, bwana, and take the shenzis with me." He set about gathering the water bottles and gourds that had not been emptied. Mali-ya-bwana and, unexpectedly, a big Kavirondo of Kingozi's safari, volunteered. The rest prepared to continue the journey. But another delay occurred.
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