Kazimoto grunted.

The Masai half turned his head at the sound.

The butt hit home--broke off--and my face and breast were deluged with blood and brains.
When I had wiped off that mess with Kazimoto's help I saw Fred and Will and Brown pursuing the retreating Masai, kneeling to shoot every few yards, at every other shot or so bringing down a victim, but being rapidly out-distanced.

Cattle are all the Masai care about.

They had the cattle.