Ishmael brought their dinner and two bottles of beer from his lean-to kitchen at the back of Leon’s rondavel. There was no chair in the hut, so the two men sprawled on the mud floor as they ate with little appetite and went despondently over their strategy for the morrow.
‘I wonder if the Nairobi ladies will think you so dashing and handsome when you’re standing against a brick wall wearing a blindfold,’ Bobby said.
‘Get out of here, you dismal johnny,’ Leon ordered. ‘I want to get some sleep.’ But sleep would not come, and he turned, tossed and sweated until the early hours of the morning. At last he sat up and lit the bullseye lantern. Then, wearing only his underpants, he started for the door and the communal latrine at the end of the row of huts. As he stepped out on to his veranda he almost stumbled over a small group of men squatting at the door. Leon started back in alarm and held the lantern high. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded loudly. Then he saw that there were five of them, all dressed in the ochre-red Masai shukas.
One rose to his feet. ‘I see you, M’bogo,’ he said, and his ivory earrings flashed in the lamplight almost as brilliantly as his teeth.
‘Manyoro! What the hell are you doing here?’ Leon almost shouted, with rising delight and relief.
‘Lusima Mama sent me. She said you needed me.’
‘What the devil took you so long?’ Leon wanted to hug him.
‘I came as swiftly as I could, with the help of these, my brothers.’ He indicated the men behind him. ‘We reached Naro Moru siding in two days’ march from Lonsonyo Mountain. The driver of the train allowed us to sit on the roof and he brought us here at great speed.’
‘Mama was right. I have great need of your help, my brother.’
‘Lusima Mama is always right,’ said Manyoro, flatly. ‘What is this great trouble you are in? Are we going to war again?’
‘Yes,’ Leon answered. ‘Big war!’ All five Masai grinned with happy anticipation.
Ishmael had been alerted by their voices and he came staggering with sleep from the shack behind the rondavel to find the cause. ‘Are these Masai infidels causing trouble, Effendi? Shall I send them away?’ He had not recognized Sergeant Manyoro in his tribal dress.
‘No, Ishmael. Run as fast as you can to Lieutenant Bobby and tell him to come at once. Something wonderful has happened. Our prayers have been answered.’
‘Allah is great! His beneficence passes all understanding,’ Ishmael intoned, then set off for Bobby’s hut at a dignified jog.