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Updated: June 11, 2025
A few moments later he could be heard robustly splashing in the tent. A roar summoned Cazi Moto. "Tell your bwana I want n'dowa medicine understand? Need some boric acid," he yelled at Kingozi. "Eyes in bad shape." Kingozi ordered Cazi Moto to take over the entire medicine chest; then sent a messenger for M'tela, who shortly appeared. "This enemy of mine is taken, thanks to your men, oh, King.
Far very far perhaps a month, who knows, is the country of the sultani M'tela. This is a very great sultani very great indeed a sultani whose spears are like the leaves of grass. His people are fierce, like the Masai, like the people of Lobengula, and make war their trade. His people are known as the Kabilagani. The way through the mountains is known; guides can be had.
I hope you will not make it necessary for me to take measures to see that my wishes are carried out." She showed no irritation, not even at the "forbid," but smiled quietly, and without reply returned to her tent. "Yes," said the old man, "this was M'tela's country, these were M'tela's people." He disclaimed having been sent by M'tela.
Let order be given to search him out." "That shall be done," said M'tela after a moment's thought. Mali-ya-bwana and Simba set out with a posse of M'tela's men. They had no great difficulty in getting track of the missing Bavarian. Winkleman had arrived to find the camping site deserted. He had, indomitably, set out on the track of his safari.
You must give me your parole neither to try to escape nor to tamper with my men, with M'tela, or any of his people. If you feel you cannot do this I shall be compelled to hold you closely guarded." Winkleman laughed one of his great gusty laughs. "I give it willingly. What foolishness otherwise. What foolishness anyway, all this. War is nonsense. It destroys. It interferes.
They spoke no Swahili, but at the name M'tela they nodded vigorously, and at the mention of Kabilagani they pointed at their own breasts. "I wish I had eyes!" cried Kingozi petulantly. "What kind of people are they?" The Leopard Woman told him as best she could tall, well-formed, copper in hue, of a pleasing expression, clad scantily in goat skins.
At the village she had vehemently refused to go back, and had pleaded to join forces with Kingozi. This puzzled him for some time. Then he saw. Of course she did not want to turn back. If, as he surmised, she had some errand with M'tela, like his own, she would not want to turn back, but she would like a plausible excuse to separate from him once the ranges of mountains were crossed.
After that you know the country for yourself." "But I am not going back!" she cried. "I am going on." "That is impossible." He went on to explain to her what he had learned of the country ahead: omitting, however, all reference to M'tela and his warrior nation. "More plains: more game. That's all. You have more of that than you can use back where we came from.
"Please do not do this foolishness," she pleaded softly; "it is not worth it! See, I have given my word! If you had thought I would go ahead of you to M'tela, all that danger is past. A fresh start, you said it yourself. Do you think I would deceive you?" She was hovering very close to him; he could feel her breath on his cheek.
The immediate result was five loads of potio brought by safari men to "somewhere in Africa," and thence transported by Simba's men to Simba's camp. As game was thereabout abundant and undisturbed everybody was happy. Thus passed a week, which brought time forward to the moment when Simba, following his instructions, was to report to Kingozi at the village of M'tela.
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