need _askaris_ to guard him in this country. And where can he get _potio_
for so many?"

"Hullo!" cried Kingozi, surprised. "This is not porter's talk; this is
headman's talk!"

"In my own country I am headman of many people," replied Mali-ya-bwana
with a flash of pride.

"Yet you carry my tent load."

But Mali-ya-bwana made no reply, fixing his fierce eyes on the distant
crawling safari.

"It must be a sportsman's safari," said Kingozi, this time to himself,
"though what a sportsman wants in this back-of-beyond is a fair conundrum.
Probably one of these chappies with more money than sense: wants to go
somewhere nobody else has been, and can't go there without his caviare and
his changes of clothes, and about eight guns--not to speak of a Complete
Sportsman's Outfit as advertised exclusively by some Cockney Tom Fool on
Haymarket."

He contemplated a problem frowningly. "Whoever it is will be a nuisance--a
_damn_ nuisance!" he concluded.

"_N'dio, bwana_," came Mali-ya-bwana's cheerful response to this speech in
a language strange to him.

"You have asked a true question," Kingozi shifted to Swahili. "Where is
_potio_ to be had for so large a safari? Trouble--much trouble!" He arose