hustled the men into line, he had advised us for or against different
candidates, he had loudly sung my praises as a man to work for,
although, of course, he knew nothing about me. Now he approached,
saluted, smiled. He was a tall, slenderly-built person, with
phenomenally long, thin legs, slightly rounded shoulders, a forward
thrust, keen face, and remarkably long, slim hands. With these he
gesticulated much, in a right-angled fashion, after the manner of
Egyptian hieroglyphical figures. He was in no manner shenzi. He wore a
fez, a neat khaki coat and shorts, blue puttees and boots. Also a belt
with leather pockets, a bunch of keys, a wrist watch, and a seal ring.
His air was of great elegance and social ease. We took him with us as
C.'s gunbearer. He proved staunch, a good tracker, an excellent hunter,
and a most engaging individual. His name was Kongoni, and he was a
Wakamba.

But now we were confronted with a new problem: that of getting our
twenty-nine chosen ones together again. They had totally disappeared. In
all directions we had emissaries beating up the laggards. As each man
reappeared carrying his little bundle, we lined him up with his
companions. Then when we turned our backs we lost him again; he had
thought of another friend with whom to exchange farewells. At the long
last, however, we got them all collected. The procession started, the
naked boys proudly wheeling our bikes alongside. We saw them fairly
clear of everything, then turned them over to Kongoni, while we returned
to Nairobi to see after our effects.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Work.