He was
forgetting his porter days, and was rapidly coming to consider
himself a full-fledged gunbearer.
The occasion soon arose. We were returning from a buffalo hunt
and ran across two rhinoceroses, one of which carried a splendid
horn. B. wanted a well developed specimen very much, so we took
this chance. The approach was easy enough, and at seventy yards
or so B. knocked her flat with a bullet from his .465 Holland.
The beast was immediately afoot, but was as promptly smothered by
shots from us all. So far the affair was very simple, but now
came complication. The second rhinoceros refused to leave. We did
not want to kill it, so we spent a lot of time and pains shooing
it away. We showered rocks and clods of earth in his direction;
we yelled sharply and whistled shrilly. The brute faced here and
there, his pig eyes blinking, his snout upraised, trying to
locate us, and declining to budge. At length he gave us up as
hopeless, and trotted away slowly. We let him go, and when we
thought he had quite departed, we approached to examine B.'s
trophy.
Whereupon the other craftily returned; and charged us, snorting
like an engine blowing off steam. This was a genuine premeditated
charge, as opposed to a blind rush, and it is offered as a good
example of the sort.
The rhinoceros had come fairly close before we got into action.
He headed straight for F. and myself, with B. a little to one
side. Things happened very quickly. F. and I each planted a heavy
bullet in his head; while B. sent a lighter Winchester bullet
into the ribs. The rhino went down in a heap eleven yards away,
and one of us promptly shot him in the spine to finish him.
Personally I was entirely concentrated in the matter at hand-as
is always the way in crises requiring action-and got very few
impressions from anything outside. Nevertheless I imagined,
subconsciously that I had heard four shots. F. and B. disclaimed
more than one apiece, so I concluded myself mistaken, exchanged
my heavy rifle with Fundi for the lighter Winchester, and we
started for camp, leaving all the boys to attend to the dead
rhinos. At camp I threw down the lever of my Winchester-and drew
out an exploded shell!
Here was a double crime on Fundi's part. In the first place, he
had fired the gun, a thing no bearer is supposed ever to do in
any circumstances short of the disarmament and actual mauling of
his master. Naturally this is so, for the white man must be able
in an emergency to depend ABSOLUTELY on his second gun being
loaded and ready for his need. In the second place, Fundi had
given me an empty rifle to carry home. Such a weapon is worse
than none in case of trouble; at least I could have gone up a
tree in the latter case. I would have looked sweet snapping that
old cartridge at anything dangerous!
Therefore after supper we stationed ourselves in a row before the
fire, seated in our canvas chairs, and with due formality sent
word that we wanted all the gunbearers. They came and stood
before us. Memba Sasa erect, military, compact, looking us
straight in the eye; Mavrouki slightly bent forward, his face
alive with the little crafty, calculating smile peculiar to him;
Simba, tall and suave, standing with much social ease; and Fundi,
a trifle frightened, but uncertain as to whether or not he had
been found out.
We stated the matter in a few words.
"Gunbearers, this man Fundi, when the rhinoceros charged, fired
Winchi. Was this the work of a gunbearer?"
The three seasoned men looked at each other with shocked
astonishment that such depravity could exist.
"And being frightened, he gave back Winchi with the exploded
cartridge in her. Was that the work of a gunbearer?"
"No, bwana," said Fundi humbly.
"You, the gunbearers, have been called because we wish to know
what should be done with this man Fundi."
It should be here explained that it is not customary to kiboko,
or flog, men of the gunbearer class. They respect themselves and
their calling, and would never stand that sort of punishment.
When one blunders, a sarcastic scolding is generally sufficient;
a more serious fault may be punished on the spot by the white
man's fist; or a really bad dereliction may cause the man's
instant degradation from the post. With this in mind we had
called the council of gunbearers. Memba Sasa spoke.
"Bwana," said he, "this man is not a true gunbearer. He is no
longer a true porter. He carries a gun in the field, like a
gunbearer; and he knows much of the duty of gunbearer. Also he
does not run away nor climb trees. But he carries in the meat;
and he is not a real gunbearer. He is half porter and half
gunbearer."
"What punishment shall he have?"
"Kiboko," said they.
"Thank you. Bass!"
They went, leaving Fundi. We surveyed him, quietly.
"You a gunbearer!" said we at last. "Memba Sasa says you are half
gunbearer. He was wrong. You are all porter; and you know no more
than they do. It is in our mind to put you back to carrying a
load. If you do not wish to taste the kiboko, you can take a load
to-morrow."
"The kiboko, bwana," pleaded Fundi, very abashed and humble.
"Furthermore," we added crushingly, "you did not even hit the
rhinoceros!"
So with all ceremony he got the kiboko. The incident did him a
lot of good, and toned down his exuberance somewhat.
