deduced--even had he not done so from a dozen other equally significant
nothings--that this was no sporting excursion, but an expedition grimly in
earnest about something.

The sun had set, and almost immediately the darkness descended, as though
the light had been turned off at a switch. The earth shrunk to a pool of
blackness, and the heavens expanded to a glory of tropical stars. All
visible nature contracted to the light thrown by the flickering fires
before the tiny white tents. The tatterdemalion crew had, after the
curious habit of Africans, cast aside its garments, and sat forth in a
bronze and savage nakedness. All day long under the blistering sun your
safari man will wear all that he hath, even unto the heavy overcoat
discarded by the latest arrival from England's winter; but when the chill
of evening descends, then he strips happily. The men were fed now, and
were content. A busy chatter, the crooning of songs, laughter, an
occasional shout testified to this. A general relaxation took the camp.

The white man finished his meal and lighted his pipe. Even yet his day's
work was not quite done, and he was unwilling to yield himself to rest
until all tasks were cleared away.

"Cazi Moto!" he called.

Instantly, it seemed, the headman stood at his elbow.

"To-morrow," said Kingozi deliberately, and paused in decision so long
that Cazi Moto ventured a "Yes, _bwana_."

"To-morrow we rest here. It will be your _cazi_ (duty) to find news of the
next water, or to find the water. See if there are people in this country.