Read Online Echoes From a Distant Land by Frank Coates - Free Book Online

the spring.
    â€˜It is not right,’ Kitunga told Sam as they watched the men struggle from the waterhole. ‘We use the oxen to take the canisters. Not men. And the noon time is for rest. These men cannot carry water, and then their loads until evening, if they work so hard at this time.’
    â€˜They are all new men,’ Sam noted. ‘Two of them from my village. Ali knows he can push them harder than the others.’
    â€˜You are correct, my friend. The older men would not stand for it, and Ali knows it.’
    â€˜I believe Ali is a man who likes to push people around. Nobody can respect such a man. I will speak to him.’
    Kitunga put a hand on his arm. ‘There is one thing I have learned in my time as a pagazi , and that is to let others look after themselves. There is no need to interfere. When the white hunter hears about this, he will have something to say to Ali. Leave it.’
    The notion didn’t sit well with Sam, but in deference to his friend’s request, he let it be.
    Not so later in the day. Sam was helping two of his tribesmen erect Ira’s tent. Ali pushed one of them, who had blocked his path, to the ground.
    When the young porter rose to complain, Ali smashed the back of his hand across his face, knocking him to the ground again.
    Ali gave him a sharp kick in the ribs. ‘Get up, you lazy Kikuyu. Get up or I’ll give you something more to think about.’ He raised his furled whip.
    Sam grabbed his arm.
    Ali swung towards him, staring in surprise, but his surprise quickly turned to rage. With a roar he threw Sam from him and unfurled his rhino-hide whip.
    Sam ducked under Ali’s raised arm and grabbed the head man around the midriff, but Ali was also quite powerful and again broke Sam’s grip. As he stepped back he flicked Sam on the shoulder with his lash.
    Sam lowered his head and charged into Ali’s torso, knocking him backwards to the ground, making him gasp.
    The two men rolled in the dust, each trying to gain the advantage.
    A loud explosion ended the scuffle.
    Bill Hungerford stood in the circle of porters, his handgun raised.
    â€˜Get up,’ he said. ‘Get up, the pair of you.’
    He looked from one man to the other. ‘You,’ he said to Sam. ‘I knew you young bloods would get up to mischief.’ Turning to his head man, he said, ‘Ali, what have you got to say?’
    â€˜This stupid Kikuyu,’ Ali snarled, pointing at Sam, ‘he attacked me. Leave him to me, Mr Hungerford, I will see to him.’
    â€˜Thank you, Ali, but I’ll be the one to take care of any punishment hereabouts.’
    â€˜I’m not sure any punishment is deserved, Mr Hungerford.’
    It was Ira, who had pressed his way through the crowd of spectators to speak.
    â€˜Is that so, Mr Ketterman?’ Hungerford said, then turned to the crowd of porters. ‘You lot! Go on! Get back to work. This is not a bloody circus. Ali, you stay.’
    He turned back to Ira. ‘What say you, Mr Ketterman?’
    â€˜I saw it all,’ Ira continued. ‘Your head man is a bully, sir. He was about to thrash one of the young porters for no apparent reason, and Sam here simply restrained his arm. No more than Christian charity would demand.’
    Hungerford smiled. ‘Christian charity, is it? Well, that would be a laugh; but what have you to say to that, Ali?’
    â€˜Is it not the bwana ’s orders to keep discipline?’ Ali said, glaring at Hungerford from under bushy eyebrows. ‘This man was insolent.’
    â€˜Hmm …’ Hungerford said, turning back to Ira. ‘We have a problem, Mr Ketterman. Even if, as you say, my man is a bully, I cannot condone insolence. I have to maintain discipline among the men, otherwise we will have the devil’s own trouble.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Well, this young buck’s your man, Mr Ketterman. Can you keep him out of trouble in the