men were hopelessly lost they should be able to follow our trail. They
might be almost anywhere out in that awful scrub. The only course open
to them would be to climb thorn trees for the night. Next day we would
organize a formal search for them.

In the meantime, almost dead from exhaustion, we sprawled about
everywhere. The men, too dispirited even to start their own camp-fires,
sat around resting as do boxers between rounds. Then to us came Memba
Sasa, who had already that day made a double journey, and who should
have been the most tired of all.

"Bwana," said he, "if you will lend me Winchi,[13] and a lantern, I will
bring in the men."

We lent him his requirements, and he departed. Hours later he returned,
carefully leaned "Winchi" in the corner of the tent, deposited the
lantern, and stood erect at attention.

"Well, Memba Sasa," I inquired.

"The men are here."

"They were far?"

"Very far."

"Verna, Memba Sasa, assanti sana."[14]

That was his sole--and sufficient--reward.