"Pity he’s gone, after all," thought Tom. Now that no immediate danger was to be feared, he allowed himself the indulgence of a couple of hours’ sleep, leaving Mirambo in charge. Refreshed by this all too brief rest, he went up the nullah to see how the greater part of his people were getting on. Not at all to his surprise, he found that nothing whatever had been done by way of organisation. The negro at best has little initiative, and these emancipated slaves, in unfamiliar surroundings, had taken no thought except to feed themselves, which they had done uncommonly well. Tom was not prepared to follow his mother’s prescription with a new housemaid: give free run until they made themselves ill. Economy might be vitally necessary: he saw that his first task must be that of food controller. He called up Reinecke’s head servant, a fat negro from one of the coast tribes. "I want you to listen to me, Moses," he said. "You see what has happened. I have brought the people away for two reasons: first, to free them, then to prevent the men from fighting for the Germans. You are no longer Herr Reinecke’s servant, but my prisoner--unless you like to take service with me. I tell you frankly I can’t pay you, at present; but the Germans are going to be beaten, you understand; don’t make any mistake about that; and when I get to Abercorn I will pay you your full wages, and something extra if you serve me well. Think it over." Now Moses, like all the other servants, had fallen under the spell of Tom’s personality. To put it shortly, Reinecke frowned, Tom smiled. Further, he had been greatly impressed by the stories told him by the Arabs and by Mirami: the moral victory over the German sergeant and the humbling of Reinecke were events that specially struck a negro’s imagination. If all Englishmen were like this one, it was not at all incredible to Moses that the Germans would be beaten indeed. Why not serve the Englishman, then--and get extra pay? It seemed worth trying. Moses thought it over while Tom was counting the rifles and cases of ammunition. His choice was made. "Very well," said Tom, when the man came to him. "Now I want you to take stock of the provisions, and tell me how long they ought to last if we are careful. The people have been helping themselves freely, I see. We can’t have that." Tom’s use of the plural flattered the negro’s self-importance. He set about his first task with alacrity, and reported presently that the food would last six or eight weeks if the women were kept in order. Tom delighted him by arranging that each head of a family and each independent man should come to Moses once a week for his supply of food. "We’ll see how it works," he thought.