"You say the water is four hours' march?"

"Yes, _bwana_."

"Four hours for you, or four hours for laden men?"

"The safari can go in four hours, _bwana_."

"Is there game there?"

"No, _bwana_. It is a guarded water, and there is no game."

Kingozi considered.

"Very well. I want six men. Before the march we must get meat."

Some time since the flames of the African sunrise had spread to the
zenith, glowing and terrible as a furnace. Although the sky was thus
brilliantly illuminated, the earth, strangely enough, was still gray with
twilight. Objects fifty yards distant were indeterminate. Objects
farther away were lost. The light was daylight, but it was inadequate, as
though charged with mist.

And then suddenly the daylight was clear.

It was like the turning on by a switch. The dim shapes defined clearly,
becoming trees, rocks, distant hills. And almost immediately the rim of
the sun showed above the horizon.

Kingozi had already decided on the best direction in which to hunt.