He began looking to his rifle. So did Will and I.
"Now this here is my fight," he explained. "Them's my cattle. They're all the wealth I own in the world. If I lose 'em I'm minded to die anyhow. There's nothing in life for a drunkard like me with all his money gone and nothing to do but take a mean white's job. You chaps just wait here and watch while I 'tend to my own affairs."
"Exactly!" Will answered dryly. "I've a hundred rounds in my pockets.
That ought to be enough."
While we made ready, leaving our loads and porters in a safe place and giving the boys orders, I saw two things happen. First, the Masai became aware of the little Greek encampment and the two hundred head of cattle waiting at their mercy; and second, the Greeks grew aware of the Masai.
The Greeks had boys with them; I saw at least half a dozen go scattering to round up the cattle. The tents began to come down, and I saw three figures that might be the Greeks and the Goanese holding a consultation near the tree.
"And now," remarked Will, "I begin to see the humor in this comedy.
Which are we—allies of the Greeks or of the Masai? Are we to help the
Greeks get away with Brown's cattle, or help the Masai steal 'em from
the Greeks? Are your cattle all branded, Brown?"
"You blooming well bet they are!"
"Masai know enough to alter a brand?"
"Never heard o' their doing it."
"Then if the Masai get away with them to British East, if you can find 'em you can claim 'em, eh?"