the whole day with the greatest uneasiness and feared that he had perished or fallen into the hands of the enemy, and when finally he appeared on a lean and panting horse, he himself was equally fatigued and so dejected that the sight of him excited pity.
He fell at once at Stas' feet and began to implore for help.
"Oh, great master," he said, "the Samburus have defeated Fumba's warriors; they killed a multitude of them and dispersed those they did not kill. They besiege Fumba in a boma on Boko Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat in the boma and will perish if the great master does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus with Mamba."
Begging thus, he embraced Stas' knees, while the latter knitted his brow and meditated deeply as to what was to be done, for in everything he was particularly concerned about Nell.
"Where," he finally asked, "are Fumba's warriors whom the Samburus dispersed?"
"Kali found them and they will be here at once."
"How many are there?"
The young negro moved the fingers of both hands and the toes of both his feet about a score of times, but it was evident that he could not indicate the exact number for the simple reason that he could not count above ten and every greater amount appeared to him as "wengi," that is, a multitude.
"Well, if they come here, place yourself at their head and go to your father's relief."
"They fear the Samburus and will not go with Kali, but with the great master they will go and kill 'wengi, wengi' of Samburu."
Stas pondered again.
