We were quite out of
water, and we had no idea where water was to be found. To
complicate matters, the thornbrush thickened to a jungle.
My single companion and I consulted. It was agreed that I was to
push on as rapidly as possible to locate the water, while he was
to try to hold the caravan together. Accordingly, Memba Sasa and
I marched ahead. We tried to leave a trail to follow; and we
hoped fervently that our guess as to the stream's course would
prove to be a good one. At the end of two hours and a half we
found the water-a beautiful jungle-shaded stream-and filled
ourselves up therewith. Our duty was accomplished, for we had
left a trail to be followed. Nevertheless, I felt I should like
to take back our full canteens to relieve the worst cases. Memba
Sasa would not hear of it, and even while I was talking to him
seized the canteens and disappeared.
At the end of two hours more camp was made, after a fashion; but
still four men had failed to come in. We built a smudge in the
hope of guiding them; and gave them up. If they had followed our
trail, they should have been in long ago; if they had missed that
trail, heaven knows where they were, or where we should go to
find them. Dusk was falling, and, to tell the truth, we were both
very much done up by a long day at 115 degrees in the shade under
an equatorial sun. The missing men would climb trees away from
the beasts, and we would organize a search next day. As we
debated these things, to us came Memba Sasa.
"I want to take 'Winchi,'" said he. "Winchi" is his name for my
Winchester 405.
"Why?" we asked.
"If I can take Winchi, I will find the men," said he.
This was entirely voluntary on his part. He, as well as we, had
had a hard day, and he had made a double journey for part of it.
We gave him Winchi and he departed. Sometime after midnight he
returned with the missing men.
Perhaps a dozen times all told he volunteered for these special
services; once in particular, after a fourteen-hour day, he set
off at nine o'clock at night in a soaking rainstorm, wandered
until two o'clock, and returned unsuccessful, to rouse me and
report gravely that he could not find them. For these services he
neither received nor expected special reward. And catch him doing
anything outside his strict "cazi" except for US.
We were always very ceremonious and dignified in our relations on
such occasions. Memba Sasa would suddenly appear, deposit the
rifle in its place, and stand at attention.
"Well, Memba Sasa?" I would inquire.
"I have found the men; they are in camp."
Then I would give him his reward.
