"I haf seen him once or twice," replied Stolzenberg, becoming suspicious. "But you do not come here, I sup-pose, to talk about him? You come to make my acquaintance. Well: you haf made it. Now you leaf me alone and I will leaf you alone. I ... what you say? I ’will not return your call’? My quarrel with the Masai is not _your_ business. I haf—what do we say? I haf ’vendetta’ against the Masai. When I first come out to East Africa on my own business I fit out a _safari_ and travel to Kenya to buy ivory. I do no harm to Masai, but they attack my camp, they kill a young German man with me, my _very great_ friend; they kill most of my men—and see! They try to kill me" (pulls up shirt and shows long scar over ribs on left side), "and they kill my dogs. Only when they see Kikuyu coming down in large war party do they leaf off stabbing and go away with most of my trade goods. The Kikuyu carry me up to their village and save my life—I haf always been good friend to Kikuyu since.—You ask them! Well now, I get my own back. Whenever I see Masai now, I shoot. I put fear of death into them...." "This is an interesting bit of biography," said Brentham, "but I thought those lawless days were gone by. I haven’t heard the Masai version of your story. Perhaps they had some excuse. At any rate, they were not the same clan as the Masai round here, friends of mine for years; and you’ve no right to make war on them. Outside our concession, that’s not _my_ affair. Your Government——" "Do not say _my_ Gover’ment," roared Stolzenberg. "It is not mine. I do not ask for it! I am my own gover’ment. I was in these countries before ever came any German or any British Gover’ment." "Well then, the Government of this region, the Government that has got the most right to govern ... I say—No! you _must_ hear me out before I go—what you may do outside our concession is between you and them. But if after this warning you interfere with our people, the people inside this Concession I am managing, and in which I’m a magistrate, you’ll run up against _me_, and I shall shoot you at sight like you do the Masai...." "All right! Haf a drink before you go?" "No, I won’t," said Roger. And wheeling round on his listening men, he shouted: "Pigeni kambi. Maneno yamekwisha. Twende zetu." Then, so that his leave-taking might lose none of its abruptness, he strode to where his Maskat donkey was tethered, released it, jumped into the saddle, and rode slowly away till he was out of sight, below the space of level ground. There he waited till his men had rejoined him with their light loads. The first to arrive were the four Somali gun-men. They had long since learnt to speak Swahili and they said, laughing, in relief that the palaver had ended without recourse to firearms: "Ulimshinda na maneno, Bwana mkubwa, ulimshinda, yule Mdachi. Walakini, ukiondoka, akasema watu wake. ’Simchuki, yule Mwingrezi. Mwanaume.’"[#]