In a little while the boy, not liking the life with the natives, and yearning for the flesh-pots of the camp, returned to the Somalis, after having concocted a satisfactory explanation of his absence. He made out to the Somalis that he had gone as a spy on N’Dominuki, who was an “el moruo torono” (a wicked old man), as he had heard that he was hostile to his dear masters, and that at great risk and personal inconvenience he had carried out his plan successfully. He then solemnly warned them that N’Dominuki was preparing to attack them. He counted on the gravity of his announcement averting any unpleasant inquiries about the stolen sheep—a ruse which was completely successful. _Now_ we had got hold of the truth. Small boys will be small boys all the world over, whether white or black, and this little untutored specimen of his genus had kept a hundred and fifty armed men, in two camps, in a state of intense anxiety for two days, and had driven a tribe with all its cattle and goods in mortal terror into the hills for the same period, in order to cover his impish escapade. He was treated in the same way as from time immemorial other small boys have been—for equally reprehensible escapades, and forthwith received the thrashing he so richly deserved. We gently chided N’Dominuki for believing “that little vulgar boy,” and asked him why he had not come into camp and found out the truth for himself. He was afraid, he said, that we should bind him and kill him at our leisure! El Hakim represented that it was very unkind to think that of _him_, who was such an old and proved friend. N’Dominuki’s only reply was “_The boy told me so!_” That is a savage all over! They believe the first story that comes to hand, even against their better judgment. In N’Dominuki’s case, although his experience of white men had always been of the best and pleasantest, he had met them late in life, and had never quite lost the savage’s innate distrust of strangers. We dismissed the crestfallen Somalis, and advised them to give less credence to casual reports in future. They seemed very sulky, and were, we were beginning to believe, rather sorry that N’Dominuki had successfully vindicated himself. From that old savage we afterwards gathered a great deal of information, which threw considerable light on the recent events in Embe. It was now shown beyond the shadow of a doubt that the Masai volunteer guide was an Embe native who, while spying round, had seized the opportunity offered him of serving us to our disadvantage. The Somalis were greatly to blame for saying that they knew him. So they did, but in the hurry of the moment they had neglected to tell us that they had merely seen him knocking about their camp for a day or two.