# In Desert and Wilderness/Part 2/Chapter 21

XXI
"Nell, can you enumerate our journeys from Fayûm?" Stas asked.
"I can."
Saying this the little maid raised her eyebrows and began to count on her little fingers.
"At once. From Fayûm to Khartûm—that is one; from Khartûm to Fashoda—that is the second; from Fashoda to that ravine in which we found the King—that is the third; and from Mount Linde to the lake—that is the fourth."
"Yes. There probably is not another fly in the world which has flown over such a piece of Africa."
"That fly would look queer without you."
Stas began to laugh.
"A fly on an elephant! A fly on an elephant!"
"But not a tsetse! Honestly, Stas—not a tsetse."
"No," he answered, "a very agreeable fly."
Nell, pleased with the praise, propped her little nose on his arm; after which she asked:
"When shall we start on our fifth journey?"
"As soon as you have rested thoroughly, and I can instruct those men whom Kali has promised to me how to shoot a little."
"And shall we ride long?"
"Long, Nell—long! Who knows whether it will not be the longest journey?"
"And you, as usual, will be equal to it."
​"I must be."
Somehow Stas had managed to shift for himself as best he could, but this fifth journey required great preparations. They were to venture into unknown regions in which they were threatened with manifold dangers, so the boy desired to be protected against them better than he previously had been. With this in view he gave instructions in shooting from Remington rifles to forty young Wahimas who were to form the principal armed force and in a measure Nell's body-guard. More rifle-men he could not have, as the King carried only twenty-five rifles and the horses bore only fifteen. The rest of the army was to consist of one hundred Wahimas and a hundred Samburus, armed with spears and bows, whom Faru promised to furnish, and whose presence removed many difficulties of travel through the wide and wild country inhabited by the Samburu tribe. Stas, not without a certain pride, thought that having escaped during his journey from Fashoda with only Nell and the two negroes, without any means, he might come to the ocean coast at the head of two hundred armed men with an elephant and horses. He pictured to himself what would be said by the English people who prized resourcefulness highly, but above all he thought of what his father and Mr. Rawlinson would say. The thought of this sweetened all his toils.
Nevertheless, he was not at all at ease as to his own and Nell's fate, for he surely would pass through the possessions of the Wahimas and the Samburus without any difficulties, but after that, what? Upon what tribes would he yet chance, into what regions would he enter, and how much travel still remained? Linde's directions were too vague. Stas was greatly worried because he actually did not know where he was, as that part of Africa appeared on the maps from which he studied geography ​entirely like a blank page. He also had no idea what this Lake Bassa-Narok was and how great it was. He was on its southern border, at which the width of the overflow might amount to ten miles. But neither the Wahimas nor the Samburus could tell him how far the lake extended to the north. Kali, who knew the Kiswahili language passably well, answered all questions with, "Bali! bali!" which meant "far! far!" but this was all that Stas could elicit from him.
As the mountains on the north, shutting off the view, appeared quite near, he assumed that it was a small, brackish lake, like many others in Africa. A few years later it appeared how great an error he committed. For the time being, however, he was not concerned so much about ascertaining the exact dimensions of Bassa-Narok as whether some river did not flow out of it, which afterwards coursed to the ocean. The Samburus—subjects of Faru—claimed that east of their country lay a waterless desert which no one had yet traversed. Stas, who knew negroes from the narratives of travelers, from Linde's adventures, and partly from his own experience, was aware that when the dangers and the hardships began, many of his men would desert to return home, and perhaps not one would remain. In such case he would find himself in the wilds and desert with only Nell, Mea, and little Nasibu. Above all he understood that a lack of water would disperse the caravan at once, and for that reason he inquired so eagerly about the river. Going along its course, they really might avoid those horrors to which travelers in waterless regions are exposed.
But the Samburus could not tell him anything definite; he himself could not make any longer explorations of the ​eastern shore of the lake, for other employment kept him at Boko. He reckoned that in all probability none of the kites that he flew from Mount Linde and from the negro villages had crossed the chain of mountains surrounding Bassa-Narok. For this reason it was necessary to make and fly new ones, for these the wind could now carry across the flat desert far away—perhaps as far as the ocean. Now this work he had to supervise personally. For though Nell could glue them perfectly, and Kali had learned how to fly them, neither of them were able to inscribe on them all that it was necessary to write. Stas regarded this as a matter of great importance which it was not allowable to neglect.
So this labor occupied so much of his time that the caravan was not ready for the journey until three weeks had elapsed. But on the eve of the day on which they were to start at daybreak the young King of the Wahimas appeared before Stas and, bowing profoundly, said:
"Kali goes with the master and the 'bibi' as far as the water on which great pirogues of the white people float."
Stas was touched by this proof of attachment; nevertheless, he thought that he had no right to take the boy with him upon such an immense journey, a return from which might be uncertain.
"Why do you want to go with us?" he asked.
"Kali loves the great master and the 'bibi'."
Stas placed the palm of his hand on Kali's woolly head.
"I know, Kali, that you are an honest and good boy. But what will become of your kingdom and who will govern the Wahimas in your place?"
"M'Tana, brother of Kali's mother."
Stas knew that strife for rulership raged among the negroes and power lured them the same as the white people; so he pondered for a while and said:
​"No, Kali. I cannot take you with me. You must remain with the Wahimas in order to make good people of them."
"Kali will return to them."
"M'Tana has many sons— Well, what will happen if he himself should desire to become king and leave the kingdom to his sons, and should induce the Wahimas to expel you?"
"M'tana is good. He would not do that."
"But if he should do it?"
"Then Kali will again go to the great water—to the great master and the 'bibi.'"
"We shall not be there then."
"Then Kali will sit beside the water and weep from grief."
Speaking thus he crossed his hands above his head; after a while he whispered:
"Kali loves the great master and the 'bibi' very much—very much!"
And two big tears glistened in his eyes.
Stas hesitated how to act. He was sorry for Kali, nevertheless, he did not assent to his entreaty. He understood—not to speak of the dangers of return—that if M'Tana or the fetish-men stirred up the negroes, then the boy was threatened not only with expulsion from the country but with death.
"It is better for you to remain," he said, "better without question."
But while he was saying this, Nell entered. Through the thin mat which separated the rooms she had heard perfectly the whole conversation, and now seeing tears in Kali's eyes she began to wipe his eyelids with her little fingers, and afterward turned to Stas:
"Kali is going with us," she said with great firmness.
​"Oho!" answered Stas, somewhat ruffled, "that does not depend upon you."
"Kali is going with us," she repeated.
"No, he will not go."
Suddenly she stamped her little foot.
"I want it."
And she burst into a genuine flood of tears.
Stas stared at her with the greatest amazement, as though he did not understand what had happened to the little maid who was always so good and gentle, but seeing that she stuck both of her little fists in her eyes and, like a little bird, caught the air with her opened mouth, he began to exclaim with great haste:
"Kali is going with us! He is going! He is going! Why are you crying? How unbearable you are! He is going! My, how pale you are! He is going! Do you hear?"
And thus it happened. Stas was ashamed until the evening of his weakness for the "Good Mzimu," and the "Good Mzimu" having carried her point, was as quiet, gentle, and obedient as ever.