I must not forget our cook. He was a most important member of the expedition and came through it in a most remarkable manner--always on the job and always ready to work a little harder. He was an Indian, that is, a native of India who had come to the Transvaal as servant to a British officer during the World War. His right name became lost early in our association. It was a long, three-barreled sort of name, quite melodious, but not handy for trek use. When I was inspecting our equipment I asked him his name again, and he calmly answered, "Gunga Din, Sahib." "Since when? When did you change your name?" I asked, surprised that he had relinquished his proud paternal patronymic. "Yesterday, Sahib. The sahib with the large hat says that he can't remember my name and tells me that from now on I shall be known as 'Gunga Din.'" Investigation showed that Sugden became fed up on the long, beautiful name of our cook and had firmly given him one that was easy to remember. "Gunga Din's easy to remember," he explained. "Gunga Din and Rudyard Kipling go together, and you surely can't forget them both. G. Din made R. K. famous, and it's a cinch to remember the cook's name that way. Anyhow, we'll be calling him 'Din' as soon as we get going!" And he was right. The chef with a name like a great poet became "Din" and remained "Din" until we returned from Swaziland. The great wagon was heavily loaded with all the dunnage and impedimenta needed for our expedition, among which were gin and a number of mysterious cases I had personally seen packed in New York. My companions did not know what was in them until late in our expedition, but when they found that I had nearly one hundred pounds of glorious five-and-ten-cent-store jewelry they realized that I knew a bit about the kaffir character. Of course we had all the weapons we could use. The best sporting rifles and revolvers were part of the equipment, though I hoped that we should not have occasion to use them except for pot-hunting. Things will happen in Swaziland, however, and Tuys was a great believer in foresight. After our rigid inspection of the outfit we returned from the kraal to the house, where the whole party assembled for dinner. During the meal a discussion arose as to whether it would not be a good idea to start immediately and work our way into Swaziland on the chance of being able to get action. Tuys maintained that we ought to start at once and hinted mysteriously that the coronation might be arranged whether Labotsibeni liked it or not. Knowing his propensity for taking chances and his liking for trouble, I hesitated to encourage this idea. Sugden, of course, wanted action and rather welcomed the thought of trouble. Crespinell was neutral, taking the stand that anything was better than "sticking around Ermelo," while Rossman said he did not care whether he took pictures of peace or war. But the matter was taken out of our hands.