"Mesitoka! I cannot!" came the answer. "Who are you?"
"Ema Mbutu, muzungu katikiro! I am Mbutu, the white man's katikiro!"
Then ensued a scene that must have provoked from the sylvan deities a kindly sympathetic smile. The foremost of the line of strangers advanced and greeted Mbutu, who was almost beside himself with excitement and relief. He wasted no time in words; he was all eagerness to lead the negroes to his master. Running in advance, then doubling back like a dog, he led the tall Muhima along the track. It was Barega's katikiro, and with him were thirty spearmen. In single file they followed Mbutu, turned aside towards the clearing, and were soon collected in a group around the blazing watch-fire--thirty tall straight warriors, the pick of Barega's body-guard, breathing hard, but ready at a word to run again. The katikiro informed Mbutu that their departure had been delayed by exciting events in their village. They had come with all speed, and behind them was another band bringing goats and flour and cooking-utensils to provide food for the sick man. A brief rest, and he was ready to start on the return journey, and he proposed to travel through the night, so that the muzungu at his first removal should not have to endure the day's heat. The spearmen, squatting in a circle about the fire, showed their native politeness by obeying the katikiro's command to talk in subdued tones.
After an hour's rest, four of the Bahima gently lifted Tom into a litter they had brought with them, and the order of march was formed. The line was led by the mugurusi, the chief's provider of firewood, who was followed by fourteen of the spearmen; then came the katikiro at the head of Tom's litter, borne by four, Mbutu walking behind; and the rear was brought up by the remaining eleven. They marched with long regular swing, and before they had gone far the omutezi wahanga, or harpist, who strode along immediately in front of the katikiro, struck up the marching-song:
"Yakuba emundu ngagayala
Mukamawange Katabuzi eikyasenga
Amaso zamynka mwenywera omwenge".
Bravely he fights; no foeman doth he dread;
Never by craven chief will I be led;
Let me drink and drink till mine eyes be red.
Three hours' march brought them to the camp, where they were boisterously greeted by an equal band gathered about a huge fire. A large iron pot was placed in the midst of the fire, and in it the flesh of a goat was simmering in stew, thickened with plantain flour. When the new-comers had eaten their fill, a guard was set, the katikiro himself undertaking to share with Mbutu the duty of watching his master.
At dawn they resumed the march, the katikiro deciding to finish the journey by easy stages, resting for three hours at least in the hottest part of the day. The route lay through country that was thickly wooded, but not such dense forest as the wayworn travellers had just traversed. Every care was taken to protect Tom from the sun's rays and the assaults of insects, an awning being cleverly arranged about his litter, with air-holes defended from insects by a fine network of goats'-hair. The sick man was fed at intervals with diluted marwa, and with soup whenever the procession stopped.
On the way, especially when they encamped for the night, the katikiro, a man of exceedingly pleasant countenance and genial manner, talked a good deal to Mbutu, asking innumerable questions, and showing the most lively interest in the story of the ambush. In return he gave the boy, to whom he appeared to have taken a strong fancy, some very interesting information about affairs in his village. He half apologized, indeed, for the non-appearance of his chief with the rescue-party. It was due to most important events. When week after week passed by, and the chief had not returned from his great elephant-hunt, Mabruki, the medicine-man, declared after consulting his fetishes that Barega was dead. Who was to be his successor? Mabruki had at first sounded some of the more important men as to their willingness to accept himself; but finding that there was a strong feeling against anyone not of the chief's blood, he had nominated Barega's elder brother, the weak and vicious Murasi, who, drunk or sober, was completely under his thumb. Murasi, accordingly, became chief, and Mabruki appointed himself kasegara, or steward of the household. The katikiro himself, an easy-going man, ready, like the Vicar of Bray, to serve anyone so long as he retained his own office, had given his adhesion to the new chief, and remained katikiro.
These arrangements had hardly been made when Barega suddenly reappeared. The majority of the Bahima were unfeignedly glad to see their chief again; he had a kingly presence, they knew his prowess as warrior and hunter, and loved him as a fair-dealing ruler in peace. A small minority of the Bahima, however, with a considerable number of their Bairo dependents, had hoped great things of Murasi's accession, and were disposed to stick to their new chief. But the medicine-man saw that his game was up; he lost no time in obsequiously making his peace with Barega, and was the loudest in upbraiding Murasi when he whimpered at his fall from power. But though Mabruki was outwardly the loyalest subject of his chief, he was deeply chagrined at the failure of his bid for greatness, and inwardly resolved to seize the first opportunity, fair or foul, of reinstating the elderly drunkard and getting rid of Barega.
This news gave some concern to Mbutu. With internal dissension in the village he was not sure that his master's life would be safe. But when he imparted his fears to the katikiro, that burly and cheerful soul laughed them away, assuring him that the chief's party, already numerically the stronger, would grow still larger as time went on.