‘Such a gift is customary, Bwana,’ Manyoro agreed.

‘Nobody is a finer judge of cattle than you, Manyoro.’

‘That is true, Bwana.’

‘When you have chosen your own beasts, pick one out for Lusima Mama and strike a price with the seller.’ That cost Leon another fifteen pounds, for Manyoro selected the best animal in the yard.

Before Manyoro set off to return to Lonsonyo Mountain, Leon gave him a canvas bag of silver shillings. ‘This is for Loikot. If he keeps talking to his friends and brings the news to us there will be many more bags of shillings. Tell him to save all his money and soon he will have enough to buy himself a fine cow. Now go, Manyoro, and return swiftly. Bwana Samawati has much work for us to do.’

Driving the cows ahead of him, Manyoro took the rutted track that led down into the Rift Valley. When he reached the first bend he turned and shouted back to Leon, ‘Wait for me, my brother, for I shall return in ten days’ time.’

Leon drove back to the club to pick up Percy Phillips. He found him slumped in one of the armchairs on the wide stoep overlooking the sun-parched lawns. He was in a foul mood. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard was in disarray and his face as wrinkled as the khaki bush jacket in which he had passed the night. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he growled at Leon and, without waiting for an answer, stumped down the steps to where the truck was rumbling and coughing blue exhaust smoke. His expression lightened a little when he saw the tusk on which Ishmael was sitting. ‘Well, thank the Lord you’ve still got that. What happened to the other?’

‘We sold it to the infidel Vilabjhi, Effendi.’ Ishmael had got into the habit of referring to his master in the royal plural.

‘That rogue! I bet he diddled you,’ Percy said, and climbed into the front seat. He did not speak again until they were bumping down the final and worst section of the track into Tandala Camp.

‘I managed to have a few words with your uncle Penrod last evening. He had received a cable from the American State Department. The former President of the United States of America and his entire entourage will be arriving in Mombasa in two months’ time aboard the luxury German steamship Admiral to begin the grand safari. We must be ready for them.’

When they parked in front of the mess tent Percy shouted for tea to be brought. Two mugs of the brew restored his sense of well-being and good humour. ‘Get out your pencil and notebook,’ he ordered Leon.

‘I don’t possess either.’

‘In future they will be your most essential items of equipment. Even more so than your rifle and quinine bottle. I have spares in my library. You can replace them when you next go into town.’ He sent one of the servants to fetch them and soon Leon’s pencil was poised over the first page.

‘Now, here is a broad picture of what this safari will involve. Apart from the President there will be his son, a lad of about the same age as you, and his guests, Sir Alfred Pease, Lord Cranworth and Frederick Selous.’

‘Selous!’ Leon exclaimed. ‘He’s an African legend. I was weaned on his books. But he must be ancient.’

‘Not at all,’ Percy snapped. ‘I doubt he’s even sixty-five yet.’

Leon was about to point out that sixty-five was older than ancient when he saw Percy’s forbidding gaze. He understood that, with Percy Phillips, age was a sensitive subject and retreated from the minefield into which he had been about to blunder. ‘Oh, then he is still quite young,’ he said hastily.

Percy nodded and went on: ‘The President has taken on five white hunters other than myself. The ones I know well are Judd, Cunninghame and Tarlton, all fine fellows. I suppose they will have their apprentices with them. I understand from Penrod that there will be more than twenty naturalists and taxidermists from the Smithsonian Institute, the museum that is partially sponsoring the safari. I asked Penrod about journalists and other members of the press, but he tells me that the President has forbidden their presence. After two full terms in office, he has come to value his privacy.’

‘So there will be no journalists?’ Leon looked up from the notebook.

‘Don’t worry about that. No one of any note can ever get away from those cockroaches. American Associated Press is sending out a plague of them, but they will be in a separate safari that will shadow ours closely all the way, sending back copy to New York at every opportunity. A pox on all their houses.’

‘That means our safari will be a party of more than thirty people. There will be a small mountain of baggage, equipment and supplies to deal with.’

‘Indeed,’ Percy agreed sarcastically. ‘The initial estimate from New York is that they will be shipping out about ninety-six tons. The rest will be purchased locally. That will include five tons of salt to preserve the specimens and trophies, and fodder for the horses. The shipment from America will be sent ahead of the main party, which will give us time to bring it up from the coast and have it broken down into sixty-pound packs for the porters.’

‘How many mounts will they need?’ Leon asked, with interest.

‘They intend to do much of the hunting on horseback. The President wants a string of at least thirty,’ Percy answered. ‘That is one of your fields of expertise, so among your other duties I am putting you in charge of the horse lines. You will have to recruit a team of reliable syces to take care of them.’ He paused. ‘And, of course, the two trucks will also be your responsibility. I want to use them for resupply of small items to where the President is camped at any time.’

‘Two motors? You have only one.’

‘I am commandeering the other vehicle from you for the duration of the safari. You had better make sure that both are in good running order.’ Percy made no mention of remuneration for the use of Leon’s truck, or for the cost of repairs to get it back on four wheels and induce them to turn.

‘Lord Delamere is lending us his chef from the Norfolk Hotel. There will be four or five sous-chefs. I will sign on your man Ishmael to work in the camp kitchens. Oh, by the way, Cunninghame will be recruiting around a thousand native porters to carry the baggage and provisions for the safari. I told him last night that you were fluent in Kiswahili and that you would be happy to help him with the job.’

‘Did you mention that I would also be pleased to help him with the actual hunting?’ Leon asked innocently.

Percy raised one beetling grey eyebrow. ‘Would you now? Given your vast experience, I am sure the President would be honoured to have you as a guide. However, you will have many more important duties to keep you entertained, young fella.’ That particular form of address was beginning to irritate Leon, but he had decided that that was why Percy employed it so frequently.

‘You are absolutely right, sir. I hadn’t thought of that.’ And he gave Percy his most winning smile.

Percy had difficulty preventing himself smiling back. He liked it more and more that the lad could take what he handed out without whining. He relented. ‘There will be well over a thousand mouths to feed. Under the game laws of the colony, buffalo are classed as vermin. There is no limit on the numbers that can be shot. One of your jobs will be to keep the safari in meat. You will have all the hunting your heart could desire. That I promise.’