“To respectfully inform I did not spell it. I enunciated it,” the Informer went on. “All of the village knew that the Bwana Mzee was in search of marauding elephants and had no time for aerial display. A Mission-educated owner of a Shamba returned to the village late in the afternoon having flown with the ndege of Bwana and he is being tailed by one of the children of the bar and duka run by the bearded Sikh. The child is intelligent and all contacts are being noted. There are between one hundred and fifty and two hundred and twenty certifiable Mau Mau in the village or within short outlying districts. Arap Meina appeared in the village shortly after the arrival of the airborne owner of the Shamba and devoted himself to his usual drunkenness and neglect of duty. He is voluble in talking about the Bwana Mzee in whose presence I stand. His story, which has wide credence, is that the Bwana occupies a position in America similar to that of the Aga Khan in the Moslem world. He is here in Africa to fulfill a series of vows he and Memsahib Lady Miss Mary have made. One of these vows deals with the need for the Memsahib Lady Miss Mary to kill a certain cattle-killing lion indicated by the Masai before the Birthday of the Baby Jesus. It is known and believed that a great part of the success of all things known depend on this. I have informed certain circles that after this vow has been performed the Bwana and I will make the visit to Mecca in one of his aircraft. It is rumored that a young Hindu girl is dying for the love of Bwana Game. It is rumored—”
“Shut up,” said G.C. “Where did you learn the word tailed?”
“I also attend the cinema when my small wages permit. There is much to learn in the cinema for an informer.”
“You are almost forgiven,” G.C. said. “Tell me. Is the Bwana Mzee regarded as sane in the village?”
“With all respect, Bwanas, he is regarded as mad in the greatest tradition of Holy Men. It is rumored too that if the Honorable Lady Miss Mary does not kill the marauding lion before the Birthday of the Baby Jesus the Memsahib will commit suttee. Permission, it is said, has been obtained for this from the British Raj and special trees have been marked and cut for her funeral pyre. These trees are those from which the Masai make the medicine which both of you Bwanas know. It is said that in the event of this suttee, to which all tribes have been invited, there will be a giant Ngoma lasting a week, after which Bwana Mzee will take a Kamba wife. The girl has been chosen.”
“Is there no other news from town?”
“Almost none,” the Informer said modestly. “Some talk about the ritual killing of a leopard.”
“You are dismissed,” G.C. said to the Informer. The Informer bowed and retired to the shade of a tree.
“Well, Ernie,” G.C. said. “Miss Mary had better bloody well kill this lion.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve thought so for some time.”
“No wonder she is a little irascible.”
“No wonder.”
“It’s not the Empire nor white prestige since you seem to have rather withdrawn from us palefaces for the moment. It’s become rather personal. We have those five hundred rounds on nonexistent arms licenses that your outfitter sent out rather than hang if they were found on him. I think they might be impressive in a suttee in the very center of the pyre. I don’t know the drill unfortunately.”
“I’ll get it from Mr. Singh.”
“It puts a little heat on Miss Mary,” G.C. said.
“I understand suttee always does.”
“She’ll kill the lion but make good peace with her and handle it sweetly and well and try to make him confident.”
“That was the plan.”
I spoke to G.C.’s people and I made a few jokes and they were off driving wide around the camp to keep from raising dust. Keiti and I talked about the camp and the way things were going and he was very cheerful so I knew everything was all right. He had walked down to the river and across to the road while the dew was still fresh and had seen no tracks of people. He had sent Ngui on a wide circle up past the meadow where the airstrip was and he had seen nothing. No one had come to any of the Shambas.
“They will think I am a careless fool that the men go twice in a row to drink at night,” he said. “But I told them to say that I had fever. Bwana, you must sleep today.”
“I will. But I must go now and see what Memsahib wishes to do.”
At the camp I found Mary sitting in her chair under the biggest tree writing in her diary. She looked up at me and then smiled and I was very glad.
“I’m sorry I was cross,” she said. “G.C. told me a little about your problems. I’m just sorry they come at Christmastime.”
“I am too. You’ve put up with so much and I want you to have fun.”
“I’m having fun. It’s such a wonderful morning and I’m enjoying it and watching the birds and identifying them. Have you seen that wonderful roller? I’d be happy just watching the birds.”