But it was no easy matter to cross the mountain, and if they had not been assisted by the inhabitants of the last village, whose good favor they had won with gifts, they would have had to find another road for King. But these people knew the ravines on this side of the mountain better than Kali did, and after a wearisome journey of two days and two nights, during which they suffered greatly from the cold, they were eventually able to lead the caravan over a narrow pass into a valley which from its appearance seemed to belong to the land of the Wa-himas.
Stasch made a halt to take a rest in this barren valley, which was enclosed by shrubbery, but Kali, who begged to be allowed to go on horseback to reconnoiter in the direction of his father’s boma, which lay a day’s journey distant, started off that very night. Stasch and Nell anxiously awaited his return for a whole following day and night, and they felt convinced that his strength must have given out, or that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy. At last he reappeared on his weary and panting horse, he himself so tired and depressed that it made one sad to see him.
He prostrated himself at Stasch’s feet and begged him to come to the rescue.
“Oh, Great Man,” he said, “the Samburu have conquered Fumba’s warriors and killed several of them, and those they have not killed they have driven out; and they are besieging Fumba in the great ‘boma’ on Boko Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat on the mountain and will perish if the Great Man does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus.”
While begging, he clasped Stasch’s knees; the latter frowned and considered what he should do, for, as always, Nell was his first consideration.
At length he asked, “Where are the warriors of Fumba whom the Samburus have dispersed?”
“Kali found them—and they will soon be here.”
“How many of them are there?”
The young negro moved his fingers and toes several times, but apparently he could not give the exact number, for the simple reason that he could not count further than ten, and that every higher number was “wengi,” which means “many.”
“When they come, put yourself at their head and hasten to the relief of your father,” said Stasch.