Across the open veldt two figures had been descried. They were coming toward the camp at a slow dogtrot; and as they approached it could be seen that save for a turban apiece they were stark naked; and save for a spear and a water gourd apiece they were without equipment. One held something straight upright before him, as medieval priests carried a cross. The turbans were formed from their blankets; mid-blade of each spear was wound with a strip of red cloth; the object one carried was a letter held in the cleft of a stick.
By these tokens the safari men knew the strangers to be messengers.
The mail service of Central Africa is slow but very certain. You give your letter to two reliable men and inform them that it is for Bwana So-and-so. Sooner or later Bwana So-and-so will get that letter. He is found by a process of elimination. In the bazaars the messengers inquire whether he has gone north, south, east, or west. Some native is certain to have known some of his men. So your messengers start west. Their progress thenceforward is a series of village visits. The gossip of the country directs them. Gradually, but with increasing certainty, their course defines itself, until at last--months later--they come trotting into camp.
These two jogged in broadly agrin. Cazi Moto and Simba led them at once to Kingozi's chair.
"These men bring a barua for you, bwana," said Cazi Moto.
Kingozi took the split wand with the letter thrust crosswise in the cleft.
"Who sent them?" he asked.
"The Bwana M'Kubwa[[10]], bwana."
[[10]: Bwana M'Kubwa--the great lord, i.e., the chief officer of any district.]
"Have they no message?"