THE LAST FRONTIER 



that I had hard work to keep from laughing. For- 

 tunately the rhinoceros behaved himself. 



The proud moment of Fundi's life was when the 

 safari entered Nairobi at the end of the first expe- 

 dition. He had gone forth with a load on his head, 

 rags on his back, and his only glory was the self- 

 assumed one of the name he had taken Fundi, 

 the Expert. He returned carrying a rifle, rigged 

 from top to toe in new garments and fancy accoutre- 

 ments, followed by a toto, or small boy, he had 

 bought from some of the savage tribes to carry his 

 blanket and cooking pot for him. To the friends 

 who darted out to the line of march, he was gracious, 

 but he held his head high, and had no time for mere 

 persiflage. 



I did not take Fundi on my second expedition, for 

 I had no real use for a second gunbearer. Several 

 times subsequently I saw him on the streets of 

 Nairobi. Always he came up to greet me, and ask 

 solicitously if I would not give him a job. This I 

 was unable to do. When we paid off, I had made 

 an addition to his porter's wages, and had written 

 him a chit. This said that the boy had the makings 

 of a gunbearer with further training. It would 

 have been unfair to possible white employers to have 

 said more. Fundi was, when I left the country, 

 precisely in the position of any young man who tries 



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