THE LAST FRONTIER 



"Well, Memba Sasa?" I would inquire, after I had 

 enjoyed the show a little. 



In a few restrained words he put the case before 

 me, always briefly, always with a scornful dignity. 

 This shenzi has done so-and-so. 



We will suppose the case fairly serious. I lis- 

 tened to the man's story, if necessary called a few 

 witnesses, delivered judgment. All the while Mem- 

 ba Sasa stood at rigid attention, fairly bristling vir- 

 tue, like the good dog standing by at the punishment 

 of the bad dogs. And in his attitude was a subtle 

 triumph, as one would say: "You see! Fool with 

 my bwana, will you! Just let anybody try to get 

 funny with us! " Judgment pronounced we 

 have supposed the case serious, you remember 

 Memba Sasa himself applied the lash. I think he 

 really enjoyed that; but it was a restrained joy. 

 The whip descended deliberately, without excite- 

 ment. 



The man's devotion in unusual circumstances was 

 beyond praise. Danger or excitement incite a sort 

 of loyalty in any good man; but humdrum, dis- 

 agreeable difficulty is a different matter. 



One day we marched over a country of thorn-scrub 

 desert. Since two days we had been cut loose from 

 water, and had been depending on a small amount 

 carried in zinc drums. Now our only reasons for 



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