Assegai

Eventually the great presidential safari left the banks of the Ewaso Ng’iro river and trundled on ponderously towards the north-east through the wildly beautiful hinterland. Kermit and Leon made the most of the dwindling days that remained to them. They rode afar and hunted hard, more often than not with marked success. Once Leon had repaired Big Medicine, Kermit never missed another shot. Was it Lusima’s spell, Leon wondered, or simply that he had instilled into Kermit his own code of ethics, understanding and respect for the quarry they pursued together? The true magic was not in any spell: it was that Kermit had matured into a highly skilled and responsible hunter, a man of poise and self-confidence. Their friendship, tried and tested, took on a steely, durable character.

Four months after leaving the Ewaso Ng’iro the safari came upon the mighty flow of the Victoria Nile at a place called Jinja at the head of that vast body of fresh water, Lake Victoria. Here they had reached the parting of the ways.

Percy Phillips’s contract ended at the river. On the eastern bank of the Nile they could see another vast encampment: Quentin Grogan was waiting to take over from Percy, and conduct President Roosevelt northwards through Uganda, the Sudan and Egypt to Alexandria on the Mediterranean. From there he and his party would take ship for New York.

Roosevelt ordered a farewell luncheon on the bank of the Nile. Although he did not partake himself, he allowed champagne to be served to his guests. It was a convivial gathering, which ended with a speech by the President. One by one he picked out each of his guests and regaled the others with some amusing or touching anecdote regarding the person he was addressing. There were cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ and ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow!’

At last he came to Leon. He recounted details of the lion hunt and the rescue of Andrew Fagan. His audience was hugely delighted when he referred to that unfortunate gentleman as the Piddling Press. Fagan was not present, having given up his pursuit of the safari shortly after the incident with the lion. Shaken, he had returned to Nairobi.

‘That reminds me – I almost forgot. Didn’t I make a bet with you, Kermit? Something about the biggest lion, wasn’t it?’ President Roosevelt went on, amid laughter from the guests.

‘Indeed you did, Father, and indeed it was!’

‘We wagered five dollars, as I recall?’

‘No, Father, it was ten.’

‘Gentlemen!’ Roosevelt appealed to the rest of the table. ‘Was it five or ten?’

There were amused cries of ‘Ten it was! Pay up, sir! A bet is a bet!’

He sighed and reached for his wallet, selected a green banknote and passed it down the length of the table to where Kermit sat. ‘Paid in full,’ he said. ‘You are all my witnesses.’ Then he turned back to his guests. ‘Few of you know that my son was made an honorary member of the Masai tribe by his two trackers after he shot that winning lion.’

More cries of ‘Bravo! Kermit’s a jolly good fellow!’

The President held up a hand for silence. ‘I think it is only fitting that I should repay the honour.’ He looked at Leon. ‘Will you call Manyoro and Loikot, please?’ Earlier Leon had warned the pair that they would be summoned by Bwana Tumbo; President Roosevelt’s Swahili name meant Sir Mighty Stomach.

Manyoro and Loikot were waiting at the back of the tent and came swiftly. They were resplendent in their flowing red shukas, their hair braids dressed with red ochre and fat. They carried their lion assegais.

‘Leon, please translate for these fine fellows what I want to tell them,’ the President said. ‘You have given to my son, Bwana Popoo Hima, the great honour of your tribe. You have named him a morani of the Masai. Now I name you both warriors of my nation, America. These are the papers that prove you have become Americans. You may come at any time to my country and I will personally welcome you. You are Masai but you are now also American.’ He turned to his secretary, who stood behind his chair and took from him the citizenship certificate scrolls tied with red ribbons. He handed them to the Masai, then shook hands with each man. Spontaneously Manyoro and Loikot launched into the lion dance around the lunch table. Kermit jumped to his feet and joined them, leaping, shuffling and miming. The company clapped and cheered, and Roosevelt rocked in his chair with laughter. When the dance ended, Manyoro and Loikot stalked with great dignity from the tent.

The President rose to his feet again. ‘Now, for the friends who are leaving us today, I have a few souvenirs of the time we have spent so pleasurably together.’ His secretary entered the tent again, carrying a pile of sketchpads. The President took them from him and walked around the table handing them out to his guests. When Leon opened his pad he found it dedicated to him personally,

The pad contained dozens of hand-drawn cartoons. Each was a depiction of an incident that had taken place over the last months. One showed Kermit being thrown from his horse, titled ‘Aff. Son and Heir takes a tumble and hilarious emotions of Mighty Nimrod on witnessing said performance.’ Another was of Leon finishing off the lion, which Roosevelt had annotated, ‘Prominent journalist saved from becoming lion dinner by Mighty Nimrod and joyful emotions of aff. Son and Heir on witnessing prowess of aforesaid Mighty Nimrod.’ Leon was amazed and humbled by the gift, which he knew was priceless, every line drawn by the hand of the mighty man himself.

Too soon the luncheon drew to a close: the boats were waiting on the bank to ferry the presidential party across the river. Leon and Kermit walked together down the bank in silence. Neither was able to think of words to say that would not sound maudlin or trite.

‘Would you take a gift to Lusima from me, pardner?’ Kermit broke the silence as they came to the edge of the water. He handed Leon a small roll of green banknotes. ‘It’s only a hundred dollars. She deserves a lot more. Tell her my bunduki shot real fine, thanks to her.’

‘It’s a generous gift. It will buy her ten good cows. There is nothing more desirable to a Masai than that,’ Leon said.

‘So long, pardner. In Limey terminology, it was all jolly good fun,’ Kermit said.

‘In Americanese, it was super awesome. Goodbye and God speed, chum.’ Leon offered his right hand.

Kermit shook it. ‘I’ll write you.’

‘I bet that’s what you tell all the girls.’

‘You’ll see,’ Kermit said, and went down into the waiting boat. It pulled away from the bank and out across the swift, wide waters of the Nile. When it was almost beyond earshot Kermit stood up in the stern and shouted something. Leon just made out the words above the roaring of the waters in the falls downstream. ‘Brothers of the warrior blood!’

Leon laughed, waved his hat and bellowed back, ‘Up the Rifles!’