"There is no water. We are very tired. We cannot go on without water."
"How can you get water if you do not go on?"
"Hapana shauri yangu," replied the man indifferently, uttering the fatalistic phrase that rises to the lips of the savage African almost automatically, unless his personal loyalty has been won--"that is not my affair." He brooded on the ground for a space then looked up. "It is the business of porters to carry loads; it is the business of the white man to take care of the porters." And in that he voiced the philosophy of this human relation. The porters had done their job: not one inch beyond it would they go. The white woman had brought them here: it was now her shauri to get them out.
"You see!" cried the Leopard Woman bitterly. "What can you do with such idiots!"
Kingozi directed toward her his slow smile.
"Yes, I see. Do you remember I asked you once when you were boasting your efficiency, whether you had ever tried your men? Your work was done smartly and well--better than my work was done. But my men will help me in a fix, and yours will not."
"You are quite a preacher," she rejoined. "And you are exasperating. Why don't you do something?"
"I am going to," replied Kingozi calmly.
He called Mali-ya-bwana to him.
"Talk to these shenzis," said he.