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Updated: May 11, 2025
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."
He must take off his clothes, and he must oil his body and paint it, and put on the ornaments of a shenzi of this country. For that purpose he must take with him the necklace, the armlets, anklets, and belt that I traded for with the shenzis, and which Cazi Moto will get from my tent. Do you know the style of painting of these shenzis of the plains, Simba?" "Yes, bwana."
"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.
This is what happened: from one of the shenzis you traded a spear, or a spear was given you. Your own spear you left in the tent. All day you sat in the grass and sharpened the shenzi spear." This was a wild guess, based on probabilities, but by the uneasy stir in the throng Kingozi knew he had scored.
They were drinking eagerly from water bottles. Simba, lantern in hand, stood nearby. A number of savages carrying crude torches hovered around the outskirts. Kingozi could not make out the details of their appearance: only their eyeballs shining. He drew Simba to one side. "There are many shenzis?" "Many, like the leaves of the grass, bwana." "The huts are far?" "One hour, bwana, in the hills."
There were long pack trains of women, quite cheerful, bent over under the weight of firewood or vegetables, many with babies tucked away in the folds of their garments; mincing dandified warriors with poodle-dog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewelery brought to a high polish a fatuous expression of self-satisfaction on their faces, carrying each a section of sugarcane which they now used as a staff but would later devour for lunch; bearers, under convoy of straight soldierly red-sashed Sudanese, transporting Government goods; wild-eyed staring shenzis from the forest, with matted hair and goatskin garments, looking ready to bolt aside at the slightest alarm; coveys of marvellous and giggling damsels, their fine-grained skin anointed and shining with red oil, strung with beads and shells, very coquettish and sure of their feminine charm; naked small boys marching solemnly like their elders; camel trains from far-off Abyssinia or Somaliland under convoy of white-clad turbaned grave men of beautiful features; donkey safaris in charge of dirty degenerate looking East Indians carrying trade goods to some distant post-all these and many more, going one way or the other, drew one side, at the sight of our white faces, to let us pass.
It has tents and potio, and chakula , and blankets and beads and wire and many other things to a quantity impossible to say. And it came to my mind that shenzis like these things, as do all men, and that in this shenzi country my bwana might make use of them; so I brought them with me for your use, bwana." "You had no trouble bringing this great safari?" asked Kingozi.
We could not hope to equal this show, possibly. Our lay is to do the supercilious indifferent." He turned to his attentive satellite. "Cazi Moto," he ordered, "tell our people, quietly, to go back to their camps. They must not stand and stare at these shenzis. And tell M'pishi to make large balauris of coffee, and put in plenty of sugar." Cazi Moto grinned understandingly, and glided away.
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.
They walked apart, ate apart, lived each in his superb isolation, going forward like sleep-walkers to what the future might hold. Thus they travelled for ten days. In mid-march, then, Cazi Moto came to tell Kingozi that two more messengers had arrived. "They are not people of our country," he added. "They are shenzis such as no man here ever saw before." "What sort of shenzis?"
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