For a moment Kingozi stared at her speechless with surprise; but immediately recovered.
"I shall give to your advice the same respectful consideration you accord mine," he assured her gravely.
She laughed in genuine amusement.
"Only I have more excuse," continued Kingozi. "A woman--alone--so far away----"
"You said that before," she interrupted. "In other words, what in--what-you-call? Oh, yes! what in hell am I doing up here? Is that it?"
She turned on him a wide-eyed stare. Kingozi chuckled.
"That's it. What in--in hell are you doing up here?"
"Listen, my friend. In this world I do what I please--always. And when I find that which people tell me cannot be done, that I do--at once. My life is full of those things which could not be done, but which I have done."
"I believe you," said Kingozi, but he said it to himself.
"I have done them at home--where I live. I have done them in the cities and courts. Whatever the people tell me is impossible--'Oh, it cannot be done!'--with the uplifted hand and eye--you understand--that I do. Four years ago I came to Africa, and in Africa I have done what they tell me women have never done. I have travelled in the Kameroons, in Nyassaland, in Somaliland, in Abyssinia. Then they tell me--'yes, that is very well, but you follow a track. It is a dim track; but it is there. You go alone--yes; but you have us at your back.' And I ask them: 'What then? where is this place where there is no track?' And they wave their hands, and say 'Over yonder'; so I come!"