They had captured our flag from its place before the
big tent, and were rallied close about this, dancing
fantastically. Before us they leaped and stamped and shook their
spears and shouted out their full-voiced song, while the other
three tribes danced each its specialty dimly in the background.
The dance thus begun lasted for fully two hours. Each tribe took a
turn before us, only to give way to the next. We had leisure to
notice minutiae, such as the ingenious tail one of the "lions"
had constructed from a sweater. As time went on, the men worked
themselves to a frenzy. From the serried ranks every once in a
while one would break forth with a shriek to rush headlong into
the fire, to beat the earth about him with his club, to rush over
to shake one of us violently by the hand, or even to seize one of
our feet between his two palms. Then with equal abruptness back
he darted to regain his place among the dancers. Wilder and
wilder became the movements, higher rose the voices. The mock
lion hunt grew more realistic, and the slaughter on both sides
something tremendous. Lower and lower crouched the Monumwezi,
drawing apart with their deep "goom"; drawing suddenly to a
common centre with the sharp "zoop!" Only the Kikuyus held their
lofty bearing as they rolled forth their chant, but the mounting
excitement showed in their tense muscles and the rolling of their
eyes. The sweat glistened on naked black and bronze bodies. Among
the Monumwezi to my astonishment I saw Memba Sasa, stripped like
the rest, and dancing with all abandon. The firelight leaped high
among the logs that eager hands cast on it; and the shadows it
threw from the swirling, leaping figures wavered out into a
great, calm darkness.
The night guard understood a little of the native languages, so
he stood behind our chairs and told us in Swahili the meaning of
some of the repeated phrases.
"This has been a glorious day; few safaris have had so glorious a
day."
"The masters looked upon the fierce lions and did not run away."
"Brave men without other weapons will nevertheless kill with a
knife."
"The masters' mothers must be brave women, the masters are so
brave."
"The white woman went hunting, and so were many lions killed."
The last one pleased Billy. She felt that at last she was
appreciated.
We sat there spellbound by the weird savagery of the
spectacle-the great licking fire, the dancing, barbaric figures,
the rise and fall of the rhythm, the dust and shuffle, the ebb
and flow of the dance, the dim, half-guessed groups swaying in
the darkness-and overhead the calm tropic night.
At last, fairly exhausted, they stopped. Some one gave a signal.
The men all gathered in one group, uttered a final yell, very
like a cheer, and dispersed.
We called up the heroes of the day-Fundi and his companion-and
made a little speech, and bestowed appropriate reward. Then we
turned in.
XVI. FUNDI
Fundi, as I have suggested, was built very much on the lines of
the marabout stork. He was about twenty years old, carried
himself very erect, and looked one straight in the eye. His total
assets when he came to us were a pair of raggedy white breeches,
very baggy, and an old mesh undershirt, ditto ditto. To this we
added a jersey, a red blanket, and a water bottle. At the first
opportunity he constructed himself a pair of rawhide sandals.
Throughout the first part of the trip he had applied himself to
business and carried his load. He never made trouble. Then he and
his companion saw five lions; and the chance Fundi had evidently
long been awaiting came to his hand. He ran himself almost into
coma, exhibited himself game, and so fell under our especial and
distinguished notice. After participating whole-heartedly in the
lion dance he and his companion were singled out for Our
Distinguished Favour, to the extent of five rupees per. Thus far
Fundi's history reads just like the history of any ordinary
Captain of Industry.
Next morning, after the interesting ceremony of rewarding the
worthy, we moved on to a new camp. When the line-up was called
for, lo! there stood Fundi, without a load, but holding firmly my
double-barrelled rifle. Evidently he had seized the chance of
favour-and the rifle-and intended to be no longer a porter but
a second gunbearer.
This looked interesting, so we said nothing. Fundi marched the
day through very proudly. At evening he deposited the rifle in
the proper place, and set to work with a will at raising the big
tent.
The day following he tried it again. It worked. The third day he
marched deliberately up past the syce to take his place near me.
And the fourth day, as we were going hunting, Fundi calmly fell
in with the rest. Nothing had been said, but Fundi had definitely
grasped his chance to rise from the ranks. In this he differed
from his companion in glory. That worthy citizen pocketed his five
rupees and was never heard from again; I do not even remember his
name nor how he looked.
I killed a buck of some sort, and Memba Sasa, as usual, stepped
forward to attend to the trophy. But I stopped him.
"Fundi," said I, "if you are a gunbearer, prepare this beast."
He stepped up confidently and set to work. I watched him closely.
He did it very well, without awkwardness, though he made one or
two minor mistakes in method.
"Have you done this before?" I inquired.
"No, bwana."
"How did you learn to do it?"
"I have watched the gunbearers when I was a porter bringing in
meat."*
*Except in the greatest emergencies a gunbearer would never
think of carrying any sort of a burden.
