Over a rise in a hill we saw a large spear, and in a few minutes we overhauled a native guarding a herd of cattle.

He carried a spear and a shield, and over his shoulders he wore a loose dressing sack that hung down nearly to his armpits.

Civilization had touched him lightly, in fact it had barely waved at him as it brushed by.
We tried him with several languages--Swahili, Kikuyu, the language of flowers, American, Masai, and the sign language, none of which he was conversant with.

Then we tried a relay system of dialects which established a vague, syncopated kind of intellectual contact.

One of our porters spoke Kavirondo, so he held converse with the far from handsome stranger, translated it into Swahili, and this was retranslated into English for our benefit.
The stranger was a Ketosh.