"But I wasn’t really alone," said Hilda Ferrier. "The people on the _Mauretania_ were very kind, and I met you on the _Palawan_, you see. I was thinking more of the natives than of lions: of course, you can shoot lions." "And you can shoot men, my dear," said Mr. Halliday. "There, now you’ve frightened her," said Mrs. Burtenshaw, as a startled look crossed the girl’s face. "What an absurd man you are, David! You’ve told us over and over again that the natives are perfectly friendly." "So we found them, Cousin Sylvia. We had no trouble except with the thieves of our own safari. I grudge them the rifles they stole, that’s a fact. I suppose that villain Juma has never dared to show his face in Nairobi again, Gillespie?" "Not to my knowledge. He wouldn’t bring your rifles if he did." "Why did he steal them, then?" asked Helen. "To shoot with, of course," said Oliver Browne. "What a question!" "I thought he might want to sell them, or pawn them, or something." "We’ve no pawn-shops in Nairobi," said Mr. Gillespie, laughing, "though I’m sorry to say we’ve some Indian money-lenders who’ve got their clutch on some of our poorer settlers. Juma won’t try to sell the rifles here at any rate. I suppose he stole them to shoot with, as your brother says, though I confess it’s a little odd. He has been a porter for several years past, and it isn’t like porters to give up their trade. Perhaps he has taken a fancy for being independent, and has settled down somewhere with others of his kidney. The rifles would be very useful to him in getting food. He’s a scamp, though; for he has unquestionably deserted his wife, who has turned out a capital laundress, John says." "He hasn’t been back to the farm?" asked Mr. Halliday. "John hasn’t said so. I think my notion must be correct, because the man has led an adventurous life, and the only surprising thing is that he should go back to it after years of portering. I believe he once belonged to a party of Arab ivory-dealers--I can’t call them hunters, for all they did was to buy, or steal, ivory from the Wanderobbo north of Kenya. They were smashed up a few years ago by a tribe of Embe or Rendili, and Juma was said to be the only one who escaped. He has always been a good porter, except for his temper, and people have put up with that because of his strength and ingenuity.... This is cheese from John’s dairy, Mrs. Burtenshaw; I can recommend it." At this point a black servant entered, carrying a letter on a salver. "A letter from John himself," said Mr. Gillespie, glancing at the envelope. "Now we shall hear all the news." He broke the envelope and cast his eye over the contents, the others waiting in silence to hear what he had to say. He looked up in a moment and gave a quick glance at Mr. Halliday. Then, still holding the letter, he smiled and said-- "Shall we go into the other room, Mother, and digest this letter with some coffee?"