Further transports over the elephant were interrupted by Kali who, foreseeing that he should have to work every day to feed the gigantic beast, approached Stas with an ingratiating smile and said:
"Great master, kill the elephant, and Kali will eat him instead of gathering grass and branches."
But the "great master" was now a hundred miles from a desire to kill the elephant and, as in addition he was impulsive, he retorted:
"You are a donkey."
Unfortunately he forgot the Kiswahili word for donkey and said it in English. Kali, not understanding English, evidently took it for some kind of compliment or praise for himself, as a moment later the children heard how he, addressing Mea, boastfully said:
"Mea has a dark skin and dark brain, but Kali is a donkey."
After which he added with pride:
"The great master himself said that Kali is a donkey."
In the meantime Stas, ordering both to tend the little lady as the eye in the head and in case of any accident to summon him at once, took the rifle and went to the detached rock which blocked the ravine. Arriving at the place he inspected if attentively, examined all its cracks, inserted a stick into a crevice which he found near the bottom, and carefully measured its depths; afterwards he returned slowly to the camp and, opening the cartridge box, began to count the cartridges.
He had barely counted three hundred when from a baobab tree growing about fifty paces from the tent Mea's voice resounded.