Why, I do not know.
But in this afternoon tramp around the low cliffs after the
elusive reedbuck, I for the first time became acquainted with a
man who developed into a real friend.
His name is Memba Sasa. Memba Sasa are two Swahili words meaning
"now a crocodile." Subsequently, after I had learned to talk
Swahili, I tried to find out what he was formerly, before he was
a crocodile, but did not succeed.
He was of the tribe of the Monumwezi, of medium height, compactly
and sturdily built, carried himself very erect, and moved with a
concentrated and vigorous purposefulness. His countenance might
be described as pleasing but not handsome, of a dark chocolate
brown, with the broad nose of the negro, but with a firm mouth,
high cheekbones, and a frowning intentness of brow that was very
fine. When you talked to him he looked you straight in the eye.
His own eyes were shaded by long, soft, curling lashes behind
which they looked steadily and gravely-sometimes fiercely-on
the world. He rarely smiled-never merely in understanding or for
politeness' sake-and never laughed unless there was something
really amusing. Then he chuckled from deep in his chest, the most
contagious laughter you can imagine. Often we, at the other end
of the camp, have laughed in sympathy, just at the sound of that
deep and hearty ho! ho! ho! of Memba Sasa. Even at something
genuinely amusing he never laughed much, nor without a very
definite restraint. In fact, about him was no slackness, no
sprawling abandon of the native in relaxation; but always a taut
efficiency and a never-failing self-respect.
Naturally, behind such a fixed moral fibre must always be some
moral idea. When a man lives up to a real, not a pompous, dignity
some ideal must inform it. Memba Sasa's ideal was that of the
Hunter.
He was a gunbearer; and he considered that a good gunbearer stood
quite a few notches above any other human being, save always the
white man, of course. And even among the latter Memba Sasa made
great differences. These differences he kept to himself, and
treated all with equal respect. Nevertheless, they existed, and
Memba Sasa very well knew that fact. In the white world were two
classes of masters: those who hunted well, and those who were
considered by them as their friends and equals. Why they should
be so considered Memba Sasa did not know, but he trusted the
Hunter's judgment. These were the bwanas, or masters. All the
rest were merely mazungos, or, "white men." To their faces he
called them bwana, but in his heart he considered them not.
Observe, I say those who hunted well. Memba Sasa, in his
profession as gunbearer, had to accompany those who hunted badly.
In them he took no pride; from them he held aloof in spirit; but
for them he did his conscientious best, upheld by the dignity of
his profession.
For to Mamba Sasa that profession was the proudest to which a
black man could aspire. He prided himself on mastering its every
detail, in accomplishing its every duty minutely and exactly. The
major virtues of a gunbearer are not to be despised by anybody;
for they comprise great physical courage, endurance, and loyalty:
the accomplishments of a gunbearer are worthy of a man's best
faculties, for they include the ability to see and track game, to
take and prepare properly any sort of a trophy, field taxidermy,
butchering game meat, wood and plainscraft, the knowledge of how
properly to care for firearms in all sorts of circumstances, and
a half hundred other like minutiae. Memba Sasa knew these things,
and he performed them with the artist's love for details; and his
keen eyes were always spying for new ways.
At a certain time I shot an egret, and prepared to take the skin.
Memba Sasa asked if he might watch me do it. Two months later,
having killed a really gaudy peacocklike member of the guinea
fowl tribe, I handed it over to him with instructions to take off
the breast feathers before giving it to the cook. In a half hour
he brought me the complete skin, I examined it carefully, and
found it to be well done in every respect. Now in skinning a bird
there are a number of delicate and unusual operations, such as
stripping the primary quills from the bone, cutting the ear
cover, and the like. I had explained none of them; and yet Memba
Sasa, unassisted, had grasped their method from a single
demonstration and had remembered them all two months later! C.
had a trick in making the second skin incision of a trophy head
that had the effect of giving a better purchase to the knife. Its
exact description would be out of place here, but it actually
consisted merely in inserting the point of the knife two inches
away from the place it is ordinarily inserted. One day we noticed
that Memba Sasa was making his incisions in that manner. I went
to Africa fully determined to care for my own rifle. The modern
high-velocity gun needs rather especial treatment; mere wiping
out will not do. I found that Memba Sasa already knew all about
boiling water, and the necessity for having it really boiling,
about subsequent metal sweating, and all the rest. After watching
him at work I concluded, rightly, that he would do a lot better
job than I.
To the new employer Memba Sasa maintained an attitude of strict
professional loyalty. His personal respect was upheld by the
necessity of every man to do his job in the world. Memba Sasa did
his. He cleaned the rifles; he saw that everything was in order
for the day's march; he was at my elbow all ways with more
cartridges and the spare rifle; he trailed and looked
conscientiously.
