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Updated: June 24, 2025
The turbans were formed from their blankets; mid-blade of each spear was wound with a strip of red cloth; the object one carried was a letter held in the cleft of a stick. By these tokens the safari men knew the strangers to be messengers. The mail service of Central Africa is slow but very certain. You give your letter to two reliable men and inform them that it is for Bwana So-and- so.
He could hear Cazi Moto moving about, arranging clothes and equipment. When by the sounds Kingozi knew that the task was finished and Cazi Moto about to depart, he spoke. "We shall not make safari to-day," he said. Cazi Moto stopped. "Bwana?" "We shall not make safari to-day." Cazi Moto's mind adjusted itself to this new decision.
Meriem had progressed rapidly with the intricacies of the English language, for Bwana and My Dear had persistently refused to speak Arabic from the time they had decided that Meriem must learn English, which had been a day or two after her introduction into their home.
Simba, who had listened with deference until his bwana should finish this jargon, grinned. "Yes, suh!" he used two of his English words at a bang. Kingozi ate his breakfast by firelight. With the exception of his camp chair and the eating service, the camp was by now all packed, and the men were squatting before their fires waiting. But there was a hitch.
He always used the first person plural, "we" did so and so; and took an inordinate pride in making out his bwana as being an altogether superior person to any of the other gunbearer's bwanas. Over a miss he always looked sad; but with a dignified sadness as though we had met with undeserved misfortune sent by malignant gods.
"The Bwana M'Kubwa , bwana." "Have they no message?" "They say no message, bwana." "Take them and give them food, and see that they have a place in one of the tents." "Yes, bwana." "And send Bibi-ya-chui to me." The Leopard Woman sent word that she was bathing, but would come shortly. Kingozi sat fingering the letter, which he could not read. It was long and thick.
He slid the cover off this box when it was delivered into his hands, fumbled a moment, and held up an object. "What is this?" he asked. "It is a bone, bwana." "Yes, it is a bone; but it is more. It is a magic. With this you will take Bwana Nyele." He could sense the stir of interest in the three men before him. "Listen carefully. This is what you must do.
"They bought her from old Kovudoo," he said. "That is all that this fellow will tell me. He pretends that he knows nothing more, and I guess that he does not. These two white men were very bad men. They did many things that their boys knew not the meanings of. It would be well, Bwana, to kill the other." "I wish that I might; but a new law is come into this part of the jungle.
And after two weeks you must send two men to M'tela's to find me, and to tell me where you are hidden. Now is all that understood? You, Simba, tell me what you are to do." "Mali-ya-bwana, myself, six men and these shenzis travel to where the safari of Bwana Nyele marches. When we are near that safari we tie up the two shenzis. Then we get Bwana Nyele and tie him up in a secret camp.
They squatted on their heels below the white man in his chair, and looked up at him with bright, devoted eyes. "Listen," he said. "The matter is this: the Inglishee are at war with the Duyche. Over from the Congo comes a Duyche known as Bwana Nyele. It is his business to reach this shenzi king, M'tela, and persuade M'tela to fight on the side of the Duyche.
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