"Well, perhaps he's a failure all round. Anyway, we don't want kickshaws, and a cheaper man will do all we need."
But the dinner at Mr. Gillespie's that night turned out excellent--well cooked, well served, and varied though simple dishes.
"Faith, Halliday," said the host, "if you don't engage the man I'll take him myself. That'll bring you up to the scratch if you've any Scotch blood left in you."
Whether it was due to this provocation or not, Mr. Halliday engaged Said Mohammed next day, for a month. Then, having been advised of the inexpediency of delay, which might be taken advantage of by his porters to desert, he decided to set off the same day, as soon as the hottest hours were past. He sent Said Mohammed into the bazaar to buy the necessary amount of food-stuff for the natives; Mr. Gillespie undertook the purchase of small quantities of "trade"--sheeting, coloured cloths, and beads for the most part; Mr. Halliday himself bought a small tent, provisions, blankets, rifles and ammunition, and a few cheap utensils. All these articles were sent up to the bungalow. At three o'clock Said Mohammed and the six porters arrived and set about packing up, under Mr. Gillespie's directions. Within an hour the loads were packed and placed in a line on the ground.
"Now, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie, "it's up to you. You must give each man his proper load, and don't be jockeyed."
There was a twinkle in his eye which Mr. Halliday detected.
"Are you setting a trap for me?" he asked.
"No, no, man; but as you're to be master, the sooner you feel your feet the better."
Whereupon Mr. Halliday, who was not without courage as well as shrewd common-sense, instantly confided the tent and personal baggage to two of the three Swahilis, and distributed the remaining loads among the three Wakamba by a rough and ready estimate of their muscular capabilities. Then began what John called the "fun." The Swahilis accepted their loads without a murmur; were they not the best fitted to carry the bwana's belongings? But one of the Wakamba, a stout little fellow with one eye, uttered a terrible wail when he lifted his bundle to his back, and, letting it down again, began to expostulate in a torrent of gibberish, of which the bwana, of course, understood not a word. The others instantly followed his example, and all three began to wrangle and gesticulate and abuse one another with a deafening clamour. It was plain that every man wanted the load of somebody else. Mr. Halliday looked on calmly for a few moments, Mr. Gillespie curiously watching to see what he would do, and placidly smoking a cigar without offering any suggestion. Suddenly Mr. Halliday called to Coja ben Selim, the Swahili, and the only man whose name he knew.
"You're headman; settle it," he said calmly, turning on his heel. "I give you five minutes."