Perhaps some aged or weak lion had not been permitted a share of that
rhinoceros. And again she was taking chances pushing out blindly with
over a hundred men into the aridity of the desert. Kingozi contemplated
this thought for some time. Then, making up his mind, he arose and began
to dress.

As he was drying his face Simba came for the guns, and a half-dozen of the
porters prepared to strike and furl the tent. Already the canvas
washstand had disappeared.

"Simba," observed Kingozi in English, of which language Simba knew but
three words, "she is no fool. She knows where there is water out yonder;
but it is water at least forty miles away. She's got to push and push hard
to make it, and that's why she's making so early a start. I had a notion
this 'country of the great Unknown' wasn't quite so 'unknown' as it might
be."

He finished this speech coincidentally with the drying of his hands. The
impatient Cazi Moto snatched the towel deftly but respectfully and packed
it away. Simba, who had listened with deference until his _bwana_ should
finish this jargon, grinned.

"Yes, suh!" he used two of his English words at a bang.

Kingozi ate his breakfast by firelight. With the exception of his camp
chair and the eating service, the camp was by now all packed, and the men
were squatting before their fires waiting.

But there was a hitch. Kingozi called up Simba and began to question him.