“ TROUBLOUS times:' 
169 
to the blaze, for it was a chilly night,'and their 
shoulders twitched and trembled with convulsive 
shivering. I stated the case to Mandara in, perhaps, 
rather a theatrical manner, and informed him I intended 
to go and seek my men at once and bring them back, 
whether the enemy objected or not. a Who , 55 I con¬ 
cluded, “ would dare to fight a white man ? 55 Mandara 
heard me with a quiet smile, and then, interrupting, 
said to my men, “ Your master is talking nonsense 
(upumbafu). How does he suppose he can find his 
way to these men at night ? Perhaps. he will lose the 
road, and a lion will kill him, or he may fall into the 
hands of the Wa-kiboso, and they won’t be afraid to 
cut his throat. No, this is but a little matter, and not 
worth the risking of a white man’s life. When the 
time comes for your master to fight, he and I shall go 
to war side by side. Now I will tell you what shall 
be done. I will send sixty of my soldiers at once, and 
they shall take two of you with them to speak the 
Swahili tongue to Kiongwe, otherwise he may mistake 
them for his enemies and shoot. You shall go there 
with my men and bring the white man’s carriers safely 
back.” There was so much good sense in what Man¬ 
dara said that I resolved to acquiesce, at any rate for 
the present, so I bade him good-bye, left two of my 
men behind, and crept back along the uncertain path 
to my demesne. As we went we saw the war-fires 
gleam out from hill to hill, we heard the war-cry re¬ 
echoing from gorge to gorge, and on the road we, 
from time to time, encountered swarthy naked forms 
hurrying to the rendezvous. Some had started from 
their sleep and merely seized their spears and shields, 
without waiting to don their martial costume, and 
wives and children were running after them with plumes 
