He was in an aggravating mood that made at one moment a very well of information of him, and at the next a mere garrulous ass.
"Come along o' me t' Lumbwa," was his final word on the matter.

"I'll put you on a road nobody knows an' nobody, uses!" We spent that night under canvas and talked the matter out.

The usual way to reach Lumbwa was to wait for a freight, or construction train and beg leave to ride on that, for as yet, no passenger trains were running regularly on the western section of the line.

But there was no rule against traveling anywhere south of the equator, and it was our purpose to march down into German East without any one being the wiser.
The next morning we imagined Brown was sober and sorry enough to hold his tongue, so, without going into details with him, we agreed to go with him "some of the way," and Fred spent the whole of that morning in the bazaar buying loads of food and general supplies.

Will and I engaged porters, and with Kazimoto's aid as interpreter, had fifty ready to march that afternoon.
The whole trick of starting on a journey is to start.