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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.
"Then at night you waited, and you speared Mavrouki with the shenzi spear, and you left it in his back, for you said to yourself, 'men will think a shenzi has done this thing. Then you went quietly to your fire, and cooked potio, and your own spear was all the time where the askaris were lying." Kingozi paused. He knew without Cazi Moto's whispered assurance that every shot had told.
Whatever was coming, he would front it serenely. The head of the safari appeared at the foot of the slope. It seemed a trifle uncertain as to where to go next, but catching sight of Kingozi's tents, it turned up the hill. Cazi Moto's keen eyes were searching out every detail; those of the Leopard Woman had suddenly become suffused with tears.
Cazi Moto's detailed description of what had been said and done cheered his master wonderfully. By all the signs the simplest of the white man's wonders were brand new to the visitors; ergo Winkleman could not have arrived. If he were not yet at M'tela's court, the chances seemed good that Simba and the magic bone had succeeded. Nothing at present could be done.
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