Memba Sasa had wives and a farm near town, neither of which possessions
he had seen for a very long while. Nevertheless he made no move to see
them. When our final interview had terminated with the usual "Bags" (It
is finished), he shook hands once more and withdrew, but only to take
his position across the street. There he squatted on his heels, fixed
his eyes upon me, and remained. I went down town on business. Happening
to glance through the office window I caught sight of Memba Sasa again
across the street, squatted on his heels, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on
my face. So it was for two days. When I tried to approach him, he glided
away, so that I got no further speech with him; but always, quietly and
unobtrusively, he returned to where he could see me plainly. He
considered that our interview had terminated our official relations, but
he wanted to see the last of the bwana with whom he had journeyed so
far.
One makes many acquaintances as one knocks about the world; and once in
a great many moons one finds a friend--a man the mere fact of whose
existence one is glad to realize, whether one ever sees him again or
not. These are not many, and they are of various degree. Among them I am
glad to number this fierce savage. He was efficient, self-respecting,
brave, staunch, and loyal with a great loyalty. I do not think I can
better end this book than by this feeble tribute to a man whose
opportunities were not many, but whose soul was great.
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