Four days later Stasch made a halt on a plateau that, although smaller and narrower than Linde Mountain, bore a great resemblance to it. That very evening Saba attacked a large baboon as he was playing with the remains of a kite—the second of those which the children had sent up before they started to travel toward the ocean—and after a hard fight bit him to death. Stasch and Nell, profiting by the halt to rest themselves, decided to continue making kites, but to send them up only when a strong monsoon was blowing from the west toward the east. Stasch calculated that if but one of them were to fall into the hands of Europeans or Arabians it would certainly excite unusual interest, and might be the means of a special expedition sent out to seek them. That his message might stand a better chance of being understood, he wrote on the kites not only in English and French, but also in Arabic, which was not difficult for him, as he was familiar with that language. Shortly after they broke up camp here Kali said that in the chain of mountains which they saw toward the east he recognized many peaks as those which surround the large sheet of dark water, the Basso-Narok, but he was not quite positive, because the mountains assume different shapes, according to the position of the observer. After having passed a fairly broad valley covered with kousso bushes, that resembled a large pink sea, they came upon a solitary negro hut, inside of which were two hunters, one of whom was ill, having been bitten by a guinea-worm.^[35] Both were so savage and stupid, so dismayed at the sight of these unexpected guests, and so certain that they intended to kill them, that at first they would give no information. It took a few strips of smoked meat to loosen the tongue of the sick man, who, besides being ill, was half starved, as his comrade allowed him but little food. From him they learned that one day’s journey farther on there were some scattered hamlets, which were governed by two chiefs independent of each other, and that farther on, behind a steep mountain, lay the Fumba country, which extends from this great sheet of water toward the west and south. When Stasch heard this he felt that a great load had been lifted from him, and he took courage once more. For were they not near the boundary of the land belonging to the Wa-hima tribe?

It was, of course, hard to tell how they would find the remainder of the journey, but in any event the boy had reason to hope that it would not be more fatiguing or longer than the terrible ride from the banks of the Nile to the plain where they now were, which distance he had accomplished, thanks to his wonderful quickness of action, and during which time he had saved Nell from death. He knew that the Wa-hima would welcome them most hospitably for Kali’s sake, and would assist them in every way. Besides, he was accustomed to negroes, and knew how to manage them; so he felt pretty sure he could get along with them even without Kali.

“Do you know,” he said to Nell, “that we have already covered more than half the distance between Fashoda and the sea, and during the remainder of our journey we may meet more savage negroes, but we are free from the Dervishes?”

“I prefer negroes,” answered the girl.

“Yes, as long as you pass for an idol. I was stolen from Fayoum along with a girl called Nell, and now I am bringing a Msimu home. I shall tell my father and Mr. Rawlison that they are not to call you by any other name.”

Her eyes began to twinkle merrily.

“Perhaps we shall see our papas in Mombasa!”

“Perhaps. If it were not for the war raging on the banks of the Basso-Narok, we might accomplish our journey sooner. How provoking that Fumba should go to war just at this time!”

At these words he beckoned to Kali.

“Kali, has the sick negro heard anything about a war?”

“Yes. There is a great, a very great war between Fumba and Samburu.”

“Then what will happen? How can we travel through the Samburu land?”

“The Samburu will run away from the great man, from King and from Kali.”

“And from you?”

“And from Kali, for Kali has a gun that thunders and kills.”

Stasch began to consider what part he would have to take in the war between the Wa-hima and Samburu tribes; he determined that the war should not interfere with their journey. He knew that their arrival would be a great surprise, and that it would give Fumba the upper hand. Therefore, all he need do would be to turn the prospective victory to his own advantage.

On arriving in the small villages of which the sick hunter had made mention, they made further inquiries in regard to the war. And the news became more and more reliable, but at the same time unfavorable to Fumba. The small travelers learned that he was on the defensive, and that the Samburu, led by Mamba, their king, had taken a considerable portion of the Wa-hima’s country and captured a great many cows. It was said that the seat of war was on the south bank of the large sheet of water, where Fumba’s great “boma”^[36] was situated, on a high and broad mountain.

This news made Kali feel very sad. He begged Stasch to travel as fast as he could over the mountain which separated them from the district that was menaced by the war, and he promised to find a road over which they could lead King as well as the horses. They were now in a country with which Kali was very familiar, and he recognized the mountain peaks he had known since childhood.

But it was no easy matter to cross the mountain, and if they had not been assisted by the inhabitants of the last village, whose good favor they had won with gifts, they would have had to find another road for King. But these people knew the ravines on this side of the mountain better than Kali did, and after a wearisome journey of two days and two nights, during which they suffered greatly from the cold, they were eventually able to lead the caravan over a narrow pass into a valley which from its appearance seemed to belong to the land of the Wa-himas.

Stasch made a halt to take a rest in this barren valley, which was enclosed by shrubbery, but Kali, who begged to be allowed to go on horseback to reconnoiter in the direction of his father’s boma, which lay a day’s journey distant, started off that very night. Stasch and Nell anxiously awaited his return for a whole following day and night, and they felt convinced that his strength must have given out, or that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy. At last he reappeared on his weary and panting horse, he himself so tired and depressed that it made one sad to see him.

He prostrated himself at Stasch’s feet and begged him to come to the rescue.

“Oh, Great Man,” he said, “the Samburu have conquered Fumba’s warriors and killed several of them, and those they have not killed they have driven out; and they are besieging Fumba in the great ‘boma’ on Boko Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat on the mountain and will perish if the Great Man does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus.”

While begging, he clasped Stasch’s knees; the latter frowned and considered what he should do, for, as always, Nell was his first consideration.

At length he asked, “Where are the warriors of Fumba whom the Samburus have dispersed?”

“Kali found them—and they will soon be here.”

“How many of them are there?”

The young negro moved his fingers and toes several times, but apparently he could not give the exact number, for the simple reason that he could not count further than ten, and that every higher number was “wengi,” which means “many.”

“When they come, put yourself at their head and hasten to the relief of your father,” said Stasch.

“They are afraid of the Samburus and would not go with Kali, but they would go with the Great Man and kill wengi, wengi Samburus.”

Stasch thought the matter over once more.

“No,” he said at last. “I can neither take Bibi to the battle nor leave her behind alone; nothing would tempt me to do it.”

Thereupon Kali arose, folded his hands, and began repeating over and over again:

“Lunla! Lunla! Lunla!”

“What do you mean by Lunla?” asked Stasch.

“A great boma for the wives of the Wa-himas and the Samburus,” answered the young negro.

And he began to tell quite wonderful tales. For Fumba and Mamba had been at war with each other for several years. They had destroyed each other’s plantations and stolen each other’s cattle. But on the south bank of the lake there was a place called Lunla, in which—even during the hardest battles—the women of both tribes assembled to hold their market. This place was sacred. The war only raged between the men; the fortunes of war did not affect the destiny of the women, who found a safe refuge in Lunla, their spacious market-place, which was enclosed by earthworks. During these disturbances many of them fled there with their children and possessions. Some came from even the most distant villages, bringing smoked meat, beans, millet, manioc, and various other kinds of provisions. The warriors were not allowed to battle nearer Lunla than within earshot of the crowing of a cock, and they were not allowed within the earthworks which encircled the market-place. They could only stand in front of the wall, and then the women handed them down provisions by means of long bamboo rods. This was an old-fashioned custom respected by both parties. But the victorious side always tried to hold the road to Lunla so as to prevent the vanquished from approaching near enough to the sacred place to hear the cock crow.

“Oh Great Man,” begged Kali once more, as he clasped Stasch’s knee, “the Great Man will bring Bibi to Lunla, and he will take King and Kali and the gun and the fiery snakes and he will conquer the wicked Samburus.”

Stasch believed the young negro’s story, for he had heard that in many parts of Africa women are not affected by the wars. He remembered that a young German missionary in Port Said had once told him that the most warlike tribe of Masai, living in the vicinity of the great Kilima Njaro Mountain, followed this custom, and that consequently the wives of the warriors on either side could pass freely and unmolested to the market-place agreed upon without fear of being attacked.^[37] Stasch was much pleased that this custom still prevailed on the banks of the Basso-Narok, for he felt confident that Nell would not be in any danger from the war. He also concluded to break up camp at once and take Nell to Lunla, which he was particularly desirous of doing, because a further journey was out of the question until the war was over, and the help of both the Wa-himas and the Samburus was necessary.

Accustomed as he was to make quick decisions, Stasch knew at once what to do. To release Fumba, to conquer the Samburus, to prevent the Wa-himas from taking too bloody a revenge, to command peace and reunite the antagonists seemed to him absolutely necessary, not only for his own sake, but also for the negroes. “It must be accomplished and it shall be!” he said to himself, and in the meanwhile, to pacify Kali, for whom he felt much sympathy, he explained to him that he by no means refused his assistance.

“How far is it from here to Lunla?” he asked.

“Half a day’s journey.”

“Then listen. We will take Bibi there at once; then I will ride on King and drive the Samburus from your father’s boma. You will ride with me and fight against them.”

“Kali will kill them with the gun.”

His despair changed to joy at once; he began to hop, to laugh, and to thank Stasch with as much enthusiasm as if the victory were already won. Further outbursts of gratitude and joy were interrupted by the arrival of the warriors he had collected during his reconnoitering, and whom he had commanded to appear before the white man. There were about thirty men, armed with shields of hippotamus skins, darts, bows, and knives.

On their heads they wore feathers, manes of baboons, and bouquets of ferns. On beholding an elephant in the service of a human being, on seeing Saba and the horses, they were seized with fear and surprise, just as was the case with the negroes in the villages through which the caravan had previously passed. But Kali had already told them that they would see a good Msimu and a powerful man, “who kills lions, who killed a wobo, of whom the elephant is afraid, who breaks rocks, makes fiery snakes rise in the air, etc.” So instead of running away, they formed in a long line and stood there silent and astonished, the whites of their eyes gleaming, for they were still uncertain whether they ought to kneel down or fall on their faces, but they firmly believed that, with the help of these extraordinary beings, the triumph of the Samburus would soon be at an end. Stasch rode on the elephant through the rank and file of the standing warriors like the leader of an army holding a review; then he made Kali repeat his promise to release Fumba, and gave orders to break camp for Lunla.

Kali rode in front with several warriors to tell the assembled wives of both tribes that they were to have rarer good fortune than ever before, in seeing the “good Msimu,” who was coming to them riding on an elephant. This was such an extraordinary occurrence that even those women of the Wa-hima tribe who recognized Kali as the lost heir to the throne thought that the king’s young son was trying to make fun of them, and they were surprised that he attempted to joke when the whole tribe and Fumba were in such desperate straits. But several hours later, when an enormous elephant with a white palanquin on his back was seen approaching the earthworks, they were nearly beside themselves with joy, and welcomed the good Msimu with such shouts and howls that Stasch mistook the uproar for outbursts of hatred, especially as these negroes were so hideously ugly that they looked like witches.

But this was their way of showing their great admiration. When Nell’s tent was set up in a corner of the market-place, in the shade of two trees with luxuriant foliage, the Wa-hima and the Samburu women adorned it with garlands and wreaths of flowers; then they brought such a quantity of food that it was not only enough for the goddess herself, but also enough to last her retinue for a month. The delighted women even bowed before Mea, who was adorned with pink percale and several strings of blue glass beads, and for this reason, and also because she was Msimu’s servant, she seemed to them to be of much higher rank than an ordinary negress.

Nasibu, on account of his youth, was also allowed within the enclosure, and he immediately profited by the offerings brought to Nell, and applied himself so conscientiously to eating that an hour later his little stomach resembled an African war-drum.