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This white man did not intend to camp here then where there was no water! He did not mean to make them march with loads! He knew! He was a great lord, and wise, as Mali-ya-bwana had said! One or two arose wearily and stiffly, and dragged their loads to the pile. Others followed. Kingozi's men helped the weakest.
At the signal Kingozi stopped and looked back inquiringly over his shoulder. Mali-ya-bwana was pointing cautiously to a low red clay ant hill immediately in their path and about thirty yards ahead. To the casual glance it looked no different from any of the hundreds of others of like size and colour everywhere to be seen.
There intervened none of the slow and clumsy upheaval one would naturally expect from an animal of so massive a body and such short, thick legs. One moment it slumbered, the next it was afoot, warned by some slight sound or jar of the earth or as some maintain by a telepathic sense of danger. Certainly, as far as they knew, neither Kingozi nor Mali-ya-bwana had disturbed a pebble or broken a twig.
You Simba, and you Mali-ya-bwana, must go with six of the best men to where Bwana Nyele is marching. These two strange shenzis will guide you. Then when you are near the safari of Bwana Nyele you must arrange so that these shenzis can have no talk with any of the safari of Bwana Nyele. That is understood?" "Yes, bwana," said Simba. "Do we kill these shenzis?" "No, do not kill them. Tie them fast."
Mali-ya-bwana and nine others were always directly at his heels. They dropped their loads and grinned cheerfully at their bwana, their bronze faces gleaming as though polished. If only they were all like this! Then perhaps five minutes later a smaller group came in, strongly enough.
Let us now follow Simba, Mali-ya-bwana, and their six men and the two strange shenzis who were to act as guides. They started off across the veldt at about four o'clock of the afternoon and travelled rapidly until dark. The gait they took was not a run, but it got them over the ground at four and a half to five miles an hour.
All these things shimmered and flickered and wavered in the mirage of noon. Only the sun itself stared clear and unchanging. At about two o'clock Kingozi awoke and raised his voice. Mali-ya-bwana, next in command after Cazi Moto and Simba, answered. "Get the big gun," he was told, "and the water bottles."
Mali-ya-bwana and the other fourteen of Kingozi's safari who were now present brought their loads up and began to pile them under Kingozi's direction. "Quickly!" called Kingozi in brisk, cheerful tones. "The water is not far, but the day is nearly gone. We must march quickly, even without loads." The import of the command began to reach the other porters.
"Who carried in the loads? Not our porters?" "No, bwana, the shenzis." Kingozi glanced at his wrist watch. It was only ten o'clock. "When?" "Last night." "They went back last night?" "Yes, bwana. Mali-ya-bwana considered that it was bad to leave the loads. There might be hyenas or the shenzis " Kingozi slapped his thigh with satisfaction. This was a man after his own heart.
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