A Swell Veldt Part 8

As the intrepid troop – one can’t say troop these days without first saying intrepid – traipsed across the swell veldt in search of its destiny or a good camping spot and Sahib Sackable and Leo the lion closed the distance to their rendezvous with fate or a near miss, Sahib’s headman, Bongo, was having second thoughts. Sure the Earl was a first class English prig, whatever that was, and sure he bellowed constantly and made outrageous demands, but you had to balance that against his other attributes, the good ones, which were…here Bongo was forced to pause for a moment… which were, which were, which were… paychecks! Sackable always paid at the end of his safaris amounts called variously “a pittance”, “a trifle”, “chump change” or “slave wages”, but he did always pay. Now with the gin neatly polished off, Bongo’s anger had subsided and his head was clearing between throbs. He was beginning to feel pangs of something he couldn’t quite grasp, so he paused again for further introspection. He quickly tossed off guilt, remorse and regret because, after all, the gin had been good and the Earl was…well, we’ve been over that, and he skipped the entire my brother’s keeper thing and the whole question of loyalty. What he landed on finally, and didn’t feel a bit bad about, was avarice, greed and complete self interest. It was the Earl himself who had schooled him in these traditional western ethics and he supposed there was a bit of a debt owing there. How many times had he heard old Sackable say with complete conviction, “money makes the veldt go round.” And it was this thought that did it. Snatching up his rifle and gear and waving moompow to his companions, Bongo set off to save the Earl and, of course, his paycheck.

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