"Jambo bwana m'kubwa (greeting, great master)!"

"Jambo!" quoth I, and went on reading. The sun was dropping, but the old
man seemed in no hurry.

"Jambo bwana m'kubwa sana (greeting, most mighty master)!" he boomed at
last.

"Jambo!" said I.

This would seem to strike the superlative, and I expected now that he
would state his business, but the old man had one more shot in his
locker.

"Jambo bwana m'kubwa kabeesa sana (greeting, mightiest possible
master)!" it came.

Then in due course he delicately hinted that a gift of tobacco would not
come amiss.

F. returned a trifle earlier than usual, to admit that his quest was
hopeless, that his physical forces were for the time being at an end,
and that he was willing to go home.

Accordingly very early next morning we set out by the glimmer of a
lantern, hoping to get a good start on our journey before the heat of
the day became too severe. We did gain something, but performed several
unnecessary loops and semicircles in the maze of beaten paths before we
finally struck into one that led down the slope towards the sea. Shortly