As Kali did not understand a word of Arabian, and only spoke the Ki-swahili language very badly (a knowledge of which will make one understood nearly everywhere throughout Africa, and which Stasch had practically learned from the Zanzibar negroes working on the canal), it was evident that he came from some remote district.
Stasch therefore decided to ask him where he did come from.
“Kali, what is the name of your nation?” he inquired.
“A very great one, which wages war with the wicked Samburu, and captures their cattle.”
“Far away, far away—Kali does not know where it is.”
“No. In that country there is a great body of water and also mountains.”
“What is the name of this sheet of water?”
Stasch thought that perhaps the boy had come from the Albert Nyanza district, which until the present time was in Emin Pasha’s hands, and to make sure of this he inquired further.
“Doesn’t a white chief live there who has black smoking ships and soldiers?”
“No; the old people tell us that they have seen white people,” and with this Kali raised his fingers, counting one, two, three. “Kali has never seen them, because he was not born there, but Kali’s father received them and gave them many cows.”
Stasch was not a little flattered at the thought that he had a prince for his servant.
“And what would you do if we met Wa-hima people? And what would they do?”
“The Wa-hima would fall on their faces before Kali.”
“Then conduct us to them and you can stay with them and reign as your father’s heir, and we will ride on toward the sea.”
“Kali will not meet them and will not stay there, for Kali loves the ‘Great Man’ and the ‘Daughter of the Moon.’ ”
Stasch turned round cheerfully to his companion and said:
“Nell, you have become a Daughter of the Moon.”
But as he looked at her he suddenly became sad, for it struck him that the little maid, who had suffered greatly from the fatigue of the journey, with her pale, transparent face in reality looked more like an inhabitant of the moon than a dweller on this earth.
The young negro also remained silent for a moment, then he continued:
“Kali loves Bwana Kubwa, for Bwana Kubwa did not kill Kali—only Gebhr killed him—he gave Kali plenty to eat.”
And he stroked his chest and stomach and repeated with visible delight: