The Sun Had Just Risen, When The King Unceremoniously Marched Into My
Hut; - He Was No Longer The Dignified Monarch
Of Kitwara clothed in a
beautiful mantle of fine skins, but he wore nothing but a short kilt of
blue
Baize that Speke had given him, and a scarf thrown across his
shoulders. He was dreadfully alarmed, and could hardly be persuaded to
leave his weapons outside the door, according to the custom of the
country - these were three lances and a double-barrelled rifle that had
been given him by Speke. I was much amused at his trepidation, and
observing the curious change in his costume, I complimented him upon the
practical cut of his dress, that was better adapted for fighting than
the long and cumbrous mantle. "FIGHTING!" he exclaimed, with the horror
of "Bob Acres," "I am not going to fight! I have dressed lightly to be
able to run quickly. I mean to run away! Who can fight against guns?
Those people have one hundred and fifty guns; you must run with me; we
can do nothing against them; you have only thirteen men; Eddrees has
only ten; what can twenty-three do against A HUNDRED AND FIFTY? Pack up
your things and run; we must be off into the high grass and hide at
once; the enemy is expected every moment!"
I never saw a man in such a deplorable state of abject fright, and I
could not help laughing aloud at the miserable coward who represented a
kingdom.
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