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Of the tribes are the Inglishee to which I belong, which is the most powerful of all like your own people of the Kabilagani in this land and also another tribe called the Duyche, only a little less powerful. These two tribes are now at war." "A-a-a-a," observed M'tela interestedly. "One of the Duyche is in your country, oh, King. I have met him and defeated him by my magic.
Have you ever heard of the victories of the Duyche? No. There were no such victories!" Lenani's advice to his people was given at the close of the Wakamba war. Said he: "There is no doubt that the Masai are a greater people than the Wakamba, and in case of war we could fight the white man harder than the Wakamba fought him. Undoubtedly, too, my people could kill a great many of the English.
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.
"Oh, King," said Kingozi. "Now is the time to show to me that your friendship is true. As you know, other white men are coming, with warriors. I do not know yet whether these are Inglishee, who are my friends and yours or Duyche, who are my enemies. If they are Duyche they must be attacked and killed or captured, for we are at war."
It is our business to reach M'tela and persuade him to fight on the side of the Inglishee. Is that understood?" "It is understood, bwana" said they. "But this Duyche, Bwana Nyele, is only one week's march from M'tela; and he undoubtedly has many gifts for M'tela and the Kabilagani.
"Yes, bwana, and then?" "This is the most difficult. You must get hold of Bwana Nyele, and you must tie him fast also, and keep him from his safari. He is a m'zungu , yes but he is a Duyche, and my enemy, and these things are right, because I command it." "Yes, bwana." "Then you must keep Bwana Nyele and these two shenzis close in camp, hidden where their safari cannot find them.
Some of these people you see here were his people; and of his goods I have everything." "But it may be," suggested M'tela with a slight cooling of cordiality, "that many more Duyche will follow this one." "They cannot prevail against my magic. Talk with Simba, with my men, and know what virtue is in my magic.
Then after two weeks we send two men to tell the bwana where we are. But, bwana, how do we get Bwana Nyele?" "That I will tell you soon. One thing you forgot: you must reach the Duyche before he gets into M'tela's country. This means travel night and day fast travel. Can this be done?" "We shall pick good men, bwana, runners of the Wakamba. We shall do our best." "Good.
But that does not matter are they Inglishee or Duyche?" "These shenzis do not know the difference." "That is true. How far away are they?" "Very near, bwana." "Get my gun. Have Simba follow me. Here, you lead the way." They marched rapidly through the forest path and past the palace of M'tela, which Kingozi had never seen. The savage king came out, and Winkleman and his bodyguard soon followed.
But this I have noticed: that when a Wakamba is dead, he remains dead; but when a white man is dead ten more come to take his place." After an hour's elaboration of this theme Kingozi judged the moment propitious to return to the original subject. M'tela offered the opportunity. "This Duyche whom you have conquered you killed him?" "He escaped." "A-a-a-a." "He is still alive and in your land.
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