I agreed that it was a high price but that the wife had been worth it. Now, I said, it was necessary for me to return to the camp. I ordered another round of the wine and left the big beer bottle with the elder. We had drunk from glasses and I set my glass top down on the counter. He urged me to take another glass and I poured one half full and drained it. We shook hands and I smelled the leather and smoke and dried dung and sweat smell that is not unpleasant and I went out into the sharp light of the road with the hunting car half shaded by the leaves. Mr. Singh had five cases of beer in the back of the car and his boy brought out the last cold bottle wrapped in a newspaper. He had figured the beer and the bottle of wine for the Masai on a pad of paper and I paid him and gave the Interpreter a five-shilling note.
“I would prefer employment, sir.”
“I cannot give you employment except as an interpreter. This has been given and paid for.”
“I would like to come with you as an interpreter.”
“Would you interpret between me and the animals?”
“I could learn, sir. I speak Swahili, Masai, Chagga and of course English as you see.”
“Do you speak Kamba?”
“No, sir.”
“We speak Kamba.”
“I could learn it easily, sir. I could tutor you to speak proper Swahili and you could teach me hunting and the language of animals. Do not be prejudiced against me because I am a Christian. It was my parents who sent me to the Mission School.”
“Did you not like the Mission School? Remember God is listening. He hears your every word.”
“No, sir. I hated the Mission School. I am a Christian through instruction and ignorance.”
“We will take you out hunting sometime. But you will have to come barefoot and in shorts.”
“I hate my shoes, sir. I must wear them because of Bwana McCrea. If it were reported to him that I was without my shoes or that I had been with you in Mr. Singh’s I would be punished. Even if I had only drunk Coca-Cola. Coca-Cola is the first step Bwana McCrea says.”
“We will take you to hunt sometime. But you are not from a hunting tribe. What good will it do? You will be frightened and you will be unhappy.”
“Sir, if you keep me in your mind I will prove myself to you. With this five shillings I will make a down payment on a spear at Benji’s store. I will walk at night without the shoes to toughen my feet as those of a hunter’s are. If you ask me for a proof I will make a proof.”
“You are a good boy but I do not wish to interfere with your religion and I have nothing to offer you.”
“I will make you a proof,” he said.
“Kwisha,” I said. Then to Mthuka, “Kwenda na duka.”
In the duka it was very crowded with Masai shopping and watching others who were buying. The women stared at you boldly from head to foot and the young warriors with their heavy ochered pigtails and bangs were insolent and cheerful. Masai smell good and the women have cold hands and when their hand is in yours they never remove it but delight in the warmth of your palm and explore it happily without movement. Benji’s was a cheerful busy place like an Indian trading post at home on a Saturday afternoon or a monthly payoff day. Keiti had found good posho and all the Coca-Cola and soft drinks that were needed for the Ngoma and he was ordering a few unnecessary items from high shelves so that he could watch the lovely and intelligent Indian girl, who was in love with G.C. from a great distance and who we all admired and would have been in love with if it were not useless, reaching them down and bringing them to him. This was the first time that I had seen how Keiti loved to watch this girl and I was happy that it gave us a faint advantage over him. She spoke to me in her lovely voice and asked about Miss Mary and said how happy she was about the lion and while I took great pleasure in seeing her and hearing her voice and in our shaking hands I could not help seeing how far gone Keiti was. It was only then I noticed how smart and fresh and well pressed his clothes were and that he was wearing his best safari uniform and his good turban.