"Hulloa," was the reply.
"Going a bit short, I see."
"Yes, about done in."
"Let me give you a hand to my camp."
"Thanks; I heard I should find you here."
"Come far to-day?"
"Yes, from the Falls."
"A good forty-five miles, by Jove!"
"Yes, quite that, I should think."
The two men relapsed into silence; the taller one because he was very
exhausted and felt it acutely now that he had reached his journey's end;
the shorter, because he realised his companion's condition and did not
wish to bother him with questions which could very well wait.
On reaching the camp Knight shouted to his body servant: "Hot bath and
be quick!" Turning to his companion, he said: "You'd like a hot bath,
wouldn't you?"
"There is only one thing on earth I should like better, but no doubt you
can give me both."
"Oh, I know; you want a drink, of course. I'll get you one in a second.
Sit down."
"Curse those waggons," muttered Knight, as he hurried off to get his
last bottle of gin. His second impulse was to thank goodness that the
bottle was a "baby," that is, one of the largest size.
Returning with his precious "baby," he saw his guest's face clearly for
the first time. The natives had lit the camp fire, and the light of it
fell upon the strong features of the stranger.
"Good Lord! It's Lindsay!"
"Yes, why not? Didn't you recognise me at once?"
"No. Will you have water or a sparklet with your gin?" asked Knight,
pouring out about half a glass of the spirit--a quantity known to
travellers as a "three-finger tot."
"I'll chase it," said Lindsay, who, having gulped down the gin, held out
his glass for some water.
"Bath ready, Morena," a black boy called from an adjoining hut.
"Have another?" said his host.
"No, thanks. I can face your hot bath now."
The tired man entered the hut, followed by the native who had reached
the camp with him.
Knight called his cook and took stock. What was there for dinner? Soup.
Oh, yes, there was always soup, made by boiling down bones and meat,
throwing in a few dried vegetables and thickening with peaflour.
Fish? Good man; so he had caught some that very evening? Then there was
that cold bush-pig's head. Yes, they would like that. What else was
there? Remembering the leathery thing his cook called an omelette, he
discouraged a suggestion of eggs.
To be sure, there were chickens. They had just gone to roost, and were
now quiet after a noisy bed-going. Yes, two very young ones
spatchcocked, and with plenty of black pepper and a little salt. And
there was one tinned plum pudding in the store; they would have that.
This plum pudding had been suggested daily by the cook, and always
rejected because it might be wanted. It was wanted now. Yes, they would
have the plum pudding.
And then there was the gin. Well, they wouldn't do so badly after all.
Soup, fish, chickens, the cold pig's head and a hot plum pudding; what
more could two men want?
By this time Lindsay had splashed to his heart's content, and the
generous qualities of the gin were having their effect. He felt a new
man.
"Are you out of your bath?"
"Yes; can you give me some clean kit?"
"Certainly, but will it fit you?"
"Oh, near enough. It will be clean, which is the main thing."
Much chaff ensued as Lindsay, who stood six feet three in his socks, got
into some of his host's clothes, for Knight was the shorter of the two
by some six inches, but fortunately broad in the shoulders.
"Can't do you in boots."
"Oh, that's all right. Give me some limbo[2] to tie up my feet."
[2] Slang term for calico.
During the bandaging the camp dogs began to bark loudly, and both men
paused to listen.
"By the way," said Lindsay, "that must be Hobday. I walked on ahead of
him; he is so deuced slow. Do you know Hobday? He's 'pills' to our
expedition. Not a bad fellow, as doctors go."
"No, I don't know him and you haven't told me what the expedition is or
anything about anything yet."
"Well, we've walked across country from Zanzibar, or rather Mombasa,
looking for minerals."
"Found anything?"
"No."
"Well, I'd better go and look out for--what did you say his name was?"
"Hobday, quite a little fellow."
Knight went out of the hut and, as he passed the kitchen, ordered
another bath and told the cook that as a second white man was arriving
he must kill another chicken.
Almost immediately Hobday arrived. He was a short, precise little man,
inclined to tubbiness.
"How do you do? My name is Mr. Hobday. I am the medical man attached to
an important expedition headed by Mr. J.G. Lindsay, who may not be
unknown to you."
To this long-winded greeting Knight replied: "Well, come along and have
a drink and a hot bath and a change, and by that time dinner will be
ready. Lindsay's here."
"I do not often indulge in alcoholic beverages and never in the daytime,
but after a very tiring day----"
"Say when. Will you have a sparklet with it or do you prefer water?"
"Er, thanks, a sparklet if you please. I am of opinion that the
sparklet is a very useful invention. What would not that great traveller
and hunter, Gordon Cumming, have given for what amounts to a portable
soda-water factory? Ah, thank you, that is ample. And, as I always tell
my patients, if they must drink alcohol, they will find in gin its least
harmful form."
"What a queer little devil," thought Knight.
"I am greatly obliged to you for this stimulant, and now I shall be
further and deeply indebted to you if I may have a bath. I always say
that a hot bath, when one is tired, revives one more quickly and
effectually than anything else."
Knight found it difficult to reply suitably to this, and was relieved
when the bath was announced and the doctor disappeared into the hut.
Lindsay looked extremely funny in Knight's clothes. The old shooting
jacket was a little short in the skirt and sleeves. The trousers reached
half way down the tall man's shins, but he felt clean and comfortable
and appearances didn't matter.
"Have another?"
"Thanks."
The two men sat and talked whilst the third bathed.
The rest of the expedition had remained at the Victoria Falls. There
were a dozen white men altogether, and about a hundred and fifty
natives. Lindsay heard that Knight was at Kazungula and came on to see
him. The pair had been through the Matabele rebellion together, and had
had other experiences in common. Hobday had insisted on coming too. His
devotion to "The Head of the Expedition" rather embarrassed Lindsay. He
was not a bad fellow on the whole, and a very capable doctor. The rest
of the men with the exception of Gray--Knight knew Gray--were
professional prospectors, good enough men at their particular job but a
troublesome lot on an expedition.
No, they hadn't found anything really worth while, Lindsay thought, but
some indications of oil might turn out a big thing.
Yes, they were going straight home from the Falls by way of Bulawayo,
Salisbury and Beira, and if any of them came back to have another look,
it would be this way and not in from Mombasa.
The question "Have another?" had been asked and satisfactorily answered
before Hobday reappeared. He looked quite as funny in his host's clothes
as Lindsay did. The only difference was that the coat and trousers
supplied to him were as much too big for him as they were too small for
Lindsay.
Hobday began to apologise for his appearance, but the announcement that
dinner was ready cut short the unnecessary speech.
All three were hungry, the two visitors especially so.
If, during dinner, Hobday noticed that a native replenished his glass
whenever it was empty, he made no protest.
The conversation almost at once turned to England, to London, and what
each man had seen and done when last there. Towards the end of the meal
dancing was the topic. These new dances, the jazz, the hesitation, the
two-step, the fox-trot, and the rest; all agreed that they were
impossible, that there was little difference, if any, between them and
the average Kaffir dance. Hobday became quite eloquent on the subject,
and, as they moved to chairs set ready for them round a camp fire,
gravely stepped a measure which he was pleased to call the stately
waltz, and then proceeded to contrast it with what he termed the
ridiculous prancings of the present day.
Although the uncomplimentary terms which he applied to modern dancing
could with equal justice have been applied to the waltz as danced by
him, his companions agreed and fell to talking again of dances they had
been to when last at home.
Suddenly Lindsay said: "Why shouldn't we have a dance? One could hum the
tune while the other two dance. We can take it turn and turn about to
him. You and Hobday dance first and I'll hum. Why not?"
And thus began the dance which is talked of to this day by the natives
who saw it.
Lindsay hummed the "Eton Boating Song" whilst Knight and Hobday waltzed
round and round the fire. Although he bobbed about in an unnecessarily
energetic manner, it was clear to Knight that Hobday had been inside a
ballroom.
Then Knight sat down and hummed the "Blue Danube," but very badly, and
with many notes strange to the tune, for Lindsay was six foot three and
Hobday only five foot four!
Then Knight and Lindsay danced to the "Merry Widow," hummed by Hobday.
They really got on very well together in spite of Lindsay's bandaged
feet, for both, in civilisation, were adjudged good dancing men.
After that they each had some light refreshment in the shape of another
tot of gin, and it was then that Hobday showed himself to be a man of
imagination.
"Let's all dance now," he said. "Let's dance the Lancers."
"How?" said Lindsay, "we are only three and there should be at least
eight for the Lancers."
"That don't matter," replied Hobday, "you two fellows take sides, I'll
do top and bottom; our partners--well, they're in England, don't you
see?"
And so it came about that in the heart of Africa, under the star-lit
sky, three sane and more or less sober Englishmen danced right through
the Lancers from beginning to end, one taking top and bottom, the other
two the sides, whilst their partners were present only in the mind of
each.
After the dance they stood silently round the dying fire, gazing into
the embers.
Who can say what fair forms and faces they saw there?
* * * * *
It was Knight who kicked the logs of the fire together and so brought
about a sudden blaze.
"What's that?" asked Lindsay, peering into the darkness.
All looked and saw the whites of innumerable black men's eyes reflecting
the camp firelight. Then there was a patter of many feet as the silent
witnesses to the dance hurried away.