African camp fires

AFRICAN

STEWART-EDWA
WHITE

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in 2007 witii funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

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AFRICAN
CAMP FIRES

BY

STEWART EDWARD WHITE

THOMAS NELSON AND SONS

LONDON, EDINBURGH, DUBLIN
AND NEW YORK

BOOKS BY

STEWART EDWARD WHITE.

" Mr. Stewart Edward White is a Hiotnas Hardy, so to
speak, of the primeval forests of the Far West, and of the
great rivers thai run out of them over the brink of evening.
His large, still novels will live on as a kind of soctal
history. ' — The Morning Post.

THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS . . as. net.

" The best book of travel in Africa that has b«en published for
many jreari." — Th* Nottingkatn Daily Exprtts.

"It Ls more than a thrilling story of adventure, for Mr. White
shows that he is a man of broad sympathies and understandinK> and
can not only deal successfully with primitive tribes, but really knows
them. " — Punch.

THE CABIN 2s. net

" ' The Cabin ' is a pure delight. We read of a husband and wife
camping out in a little shanty in the heart of a Califomian forest —
that is all the story ; but around it grows chapter after chapter of
sagacity and fun and insight, and a deep ioj' in beauty and liyinK
things. Ai.d all is given to us as simply and sincerely as it was lived
through and thought through." — Tfu Nation.

THE FOREST is. net.

RULES OF THE GAME 7d. net.

THE BLAZED TRAIL 7d. net.

THOMAS NELSON AND SONS.

AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. First Puilitfud, April 1914.

CONTENTS.

PART L— TO THE ISLAND OF WAR.

I. Thb Open Door 9

IL Thb Farewell .

. 17

III. Port Said .

23

IT. Suez .

33

V. The Red Sea .

39

VI. Aden .

. 51

VII. The Indian Ocean .

. 58

VIII. Mombasa .

. 68

PART IL— THE SHIMBA HILLS.

IX. A Tropical Jungle 87

X. The Sable 100

XI. A March along the Coast . . . 108

XIL The Fire 117

PART IIL— NAIROBL

XIII. Up from the Coast .

XIV. A Town of Contrasts

XV. People

XVI. Recruiting . . . .

127
133
140

150

PART IV.— A LION HUNT ON KAPITI.

XVII. An Ostrich Farm at Machakos . . 161

XVIIL The First Lioness 170

XIX. The Dogs 176

XX. Bondoni 18]

Iv CONTENTS

XXI. Riding the Plains
XXII. Thb Skcond Lioness

XXIII. Thb Bio Lion

XXIV. The Fifteen Lions

PART

XXV. Vol
XXVI,
XXVII
XXVIII

v.— THE TSAVO RIVER.

The Fringe-Eared Oryx
Across the Serenoetti
Down the River .
XXIX The Lesser Kddu
XXX. Adventures by the Way
XXXL The Lost Safari .
XXXII. The Babu .

PART VI.— IN MASAILAND.

XXXIII. Over the Likipia Escarpment .

XXXIV. To THE Kedong ....
XXXV. The Transport Rider

XXXVI. Across the Thirst
XXX VIL The Southern Guaso Nyero
XXXVIII. The Lower Benches .
XXXIX. Notes on the Masai .

XL. Through the Enchanted Forest

XLI. Naiokotuku

XLII. Scouting in the Elephant Forest
XLIIL The Topi Camp ....
XLIV. The Unknown Land .

XLV. The Roan

XLVI. The Greater Kudu
XLVII. The Magic Portals close .
XLVIIL The Last Trek ....

184
197
202
207

216

222
229
237
249
257
265
274

283
296
299
307
315
323
341
358
364
370
378
387
391
402
409
412

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Trophy room of the author

Frontispiece

We waited patiently to see the camels slung

aboard by the crane ....

Facing

page 56

Scenes in Mombasa

„ 72

Portuguese fort and Arab quarter, Mombasa

„ 80

Then suddenly we found ourselves in a

story-book tropical paradise

„ 96

The Sable

„ 104

Inside a fence — before the low, stone-built,

wide-verandahed hotel

„ 128

The control station

„ 136

Kongoni

„ 152

Spying for lions from the kopjes

„ 160

The first lioness, the Hills, and Captain

Duirs ......

„ 168

The desert of the Serengetti

„ 224

Scenes on the Tsavo River

„ 240

Bushbuck — a very shy bush-dwelling ani-

mal. This photograph is most unusual

„ 248

The Lesser Kudu

„ 256

VI

UST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Elach day the pinnacles over the way changed

slightly their compass bearings . . Fencing

Timothy, Abba Ali, Leyeye, Mohammed

Crossing the Southern Guaso Nyero .

0., our hunting companion

From it we looked down into the deep gorge
of the Southern Quaso Nyero

Our camps at Narossara and Lengeetoto

Masai men and women

I offered a half rupee as a prize for an
archery competition .

Naiokotuku and one of his sons

In the Elephant country .

It was almost exactly like the sage-brush
deserts .....

The Eland and Cape Buffalo

Our southernmost camp. From this |>oint
we turned back

The Roan

The Greater Kudu ....

page 264
288
312
320

328
336
352

360
368
376

384
392

400
408
416

Part I.
TO THE ISLAND OF WAR.

AFRICAN CAMP FIEES.

I.

THE OPEN DOOR.

TEffiRE are many interesting hotels scattered
about the world, with a few of which I am
acquainted and with a great many of which I am
not. Of course all hotels are interesting, from one
point of view or another. In fact, the surest way
to fix an audience's attention is to introduce your
hero, or to display your opening chorus in the lobby
or along the f a§ade of a hotel. The life, the move-
ment and colour, the drifting individuahties, the
pretence, the bluff, the self-consciousness, the
independence, the ennui, the darting or lounging
servants, the very fact that of those before your
eyes seven out of ten are drawn from distant and
scattered places, are sufficient in themselves to
invest the smallest hostelry with glamour. It is

la

10 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

not of this general interest that I would now speak.
Nor is it my intention at present to glance at the
hotels wherein " quaintness " is specialized,
whether intentionally or no. There are thousands
of them ; and all of them weU worth the discrimi-
nating traveller's attention. Concerning some of
them — as the old inns at Dives-sur-Mer and at
Mont St. Michel — whole books have been written.
These depend for their charm on a mingled gift of
the unusual and the picturesque. There are, as
I have said, thousands of them ; and of their
cataloguing, should one embark on so wide a
sea, there could be no end. And, again, I must
for convenience exclude the altogether charming
places, like the Tour d' Argent of Paris, Simpson's
of the Strand,* and a dozen others that will
spring to every traveller's memory, where the
personaUty of the host, or of a chef, or even a
waiter, is at once a magnet for the attraction of
visitors and a reward for their coming. These, too,
are many. In the interest to which I would draw
attention, the hotel as a building or as an in-
stitution has Uttle part. It is indeed a fa9ade, a
mise en scene before which play the actors that
attract our attention and applause. The set may
be as modemly elaborate as Peacock Alley of the

• In old days before the " improvements."

THE OPEN DOOR. 11

Waldorf or the templed lobby of the St. Francis ;
or it may present the severe and Elizabethan
simpUcity of the stone-paved veranda of the
Norfolk at Nairobi — the matter is quite inessen-
tial to the spectator. His appreciation is only
slightly and indirectly influenced by these things.
Sunk in his arm-chair — of velvet or of canvas —
he puffs hard and silently at his cigar, watching
and listening as the pageant and the conversation
eddy by.

Of such hotels I number that gaudy and poly-
syllabic hostelry the Grand Hotel du Louvre et de
la Paix at Marseilles. I am indifferent to the
facts that it is situated on that fine thoroughfare,
the Rue de Cannebi^re, which the proud and un-
travelled native devoutly beheves to be the finest
street in the world ; that it possesses a dining-
room of gilded and painted repottssS work so
elaborate and wonderful that it surely must be
intended to represent a tinsmith's dream of
heaven ; that its concierge is the most impressive
human being on earth except Ludwig von Kampf
(whom I have never seen) ; that its head waiter
is sadder and more elderly and forgiving than any
other head waiter ; and that its hushed and
cathedral atmosphere has been undisturbed
through immemorial years. That is to be ex-

It AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

pected; and elsewhere to be duplicated in greater
or lesser degree. Nor in the lofty courtyard, or the
equally lofty halls and reading-rooms, is there
ever much bustle and movement. People sit
quietly, or move with circumspection. Servants
glide. The faU of a book or teaspoon, the sudden
closing of a door, are events to be remarked. Once
a day, however, a huge gong sounds, the glass
doors of the inner courtyard are thrown open with
a flourish, and enters the huge bus fairly among
those peacefully sitting at the tables, horses' hoofs
striking fire, long lash-cracking volleys, wheels
rofiuing amid hollow reverberations. From the
interior of this bus emerge people ; and from the
top, by means of a strangely-constructed hooked
ladder, are decanted boxes, trunks, and ap-
purtenances of various sorts. In these people,
and in these boxes, trunks, and appurtenances,
are the real interest of the Grand Hotel du Louvre
et de la Paix of the marvellous Rue Cannebifere
of Meirseilles.

For at Marseilles land ships, many ships, from
all the scattered ends of the earth; and from
Marseilles depart trains for the North, where is
home, or the way home for many peoples. And
since the arrival of ships is uncertain, and the de-
parture of trains fixed, it follows that everybody

THE OPEN DOOR. 13

descends for a little or greater period at the Grand
Hotel du Louvre et de la Paix.

They come lean and quiet and a Uttle yellow
from hard climates, with the names of strange
places on their Ups, and they speak familiarly of
far-off things. Their clothes are generally of
ancient cut, and the wrinkles and camphor
aroma of a long packing away are yet discernible.
Often they are still wearing sun helmets or
double terai hats, pending a descent on a Piccadilly
hatter two days hence. They move slowly and
languidly ; the ordinary piercing and dominant
English enunciation has fallen to modulation ;
their eyes, while observant and alert, look tired.
It is as though the far countries have sucked some-
thing from the pith of them in exchange for great
experiences that nevertheless seem of little value ;
as though these men, having met at last face to
face the ultimate of what the earth has to offer in
the way of danger, hardship, difficulty, and the
things that try men's souls, having unexpectedly
found them all to fall short of both the importance
and the final significance with which human-kind
has always invested them, were now just a little
at a loss. Therefore they stretch their long, lean
frames in the wicker chairs, they sip the long
drinks at their elbows, puff slowly at their long.

14 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

lean cheroots, and talk spasmodically in short
sentences.

Of quite a different type are those going out —
young fellows full of northern health and energy,
full of the eagerness of anticipation, full of ro-
mance skilfully concealed, self-certain, authorita-
tive, clear voiced. Their exit from the bus is
followed by a rain of hold-alls, bags, new tin boxes,
new gun cases, all lettered freshly — an enormous
kit doomed to diminution. They overflow the
place, ebb towards their respective rooms ; return
scrubbed and ruddy, correctly clad, correctly im-
conscious of everybody else ; sink into more
wicker chairs. The quiet brown and yellow men
continue to puff at their cheroots, quite eclipsed.
After a time one of them picks up his battered old
sun helmet and goes out into the street. The eyes
of the newcomers follow him. They fall silent ;
and their eyes, under cover of pulled moustache,
furtively glance towards the lean man's com-
panions. Then on that oflBce falls a great silence,
broken only by the occasional rare remarks of the
quiet men with the cheroots. The youngsters
fire listening with all their ears, though from their
appearance no one would suspect that fact. Not
a syllable escapes them. Tliese quiet men have
been there ; they have seen with their own eyes ;

THE OPEN DOOR. 15

their lightest word is saturated with the mystery
and romance of the unknown. Their easy,
matter-of-fact, everyday knowledge is richly
wonderful. It would seem natural for these
young-young men to question these old-young
men of that which they desire so ardently to
know ; but that isn't done, you know. So they
sit tight, and pretend they are not listening, and
feast their ears on the wonderful syllables —
Ankobar, Kabul, Peshawur, Annam, Nyassaland,
Kerman, Serengetti, Tanganika, and many others.
On these beautiful syllables must their imagina-
tions feed, for that which is told is as nothing at
all. Adventure there is none, romance there is
none, mention of high emprise there is none.
Adventure, romance, high emprise have to these
men somehow lost their importance. Perhaps
such things have been to them too common — as
well mention the morning egg. Perhaps they
have found that there is no genuine adventure, no
real romance except over the edge of the world
where the rainbow stoops.

The bus rattles in and rattles out again. It
takes the fresh-faced yoimg men down past the
inner harbour to where lie the tall ships waiting.
They and their cargo of exuberance, of hope, of en-
ergy, of thirst for the bubble adventure, the rain-

16 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

bow romance, sail away to where these wares have
a market. And the quiet men ghde away to the
North. Their wares have been marketed. The
sleepy, fierce, passionate, smmy lands have taken
all they had to bring. And have given in ex-
change ? Indifference, ill-health, a profomid
realization that the length of days are as nothing
at all ; a supreme agnosticism as to the ultimate
value of anything that a single man can do, a
sublime faith that it must be done, the power to
concentrate, patience illimitable ; contempt for
danger, disregard of death, the intention to Uve ;
a final, weary estimate of the fact that mere things
are as imimportant here as there, no matter how
quaintly or fantastically they are dressed or
named, and a corresponding emptiness of antici-
pation for the future — these items are only a
random few of the price given by the ancient lands
for that which the northern races bring to them.
What other alchemical changes have been wrought
only these lean and weary men could know — ^if
they dared look so far within themselves. And
even if they dared, they would not tell.

11.

THE FAREWELL.

WE boarded ship, filled with a great, and
what seemed to us, an unappeasable curi-
osity as to what we were going to see. It was not
a very big ship, in spite of the grandiloquent de-
scriptions in the advertisements, or the lithograph
wherein she cut grandly and evenly through huge
waves to the manifest discomfiture of infinitesimal
sailing craft bobbing alongside. She was manned
entirely by Germans. The room stewards waited
at table, cleaned the public saloons, kept the
library, rustled the baggage, and played in the
band. That is why we took oiu* music between
meals. Our staterooms were very tiny indeed.
Each was provided with an electric fan ; a totally
inadequate and rather aggravating electric fan
once we had entered the Red Sea. Just at this
moment we paid it Httle attention, for we were still
in full enjoyment of simny France, where, in oiu*

18 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

own experience, it had rained two months steadily.
Indeed, at this moment it was raining, raining a
steady, cold, sodden drizzle that had not even the
grace to pick out the surface of the harbour in the
jolly dancing staccato that goes far to lend attrac-
tion to a genuinely earnest rainstorm.

Down the long quay splashed cabs and omni-
buses, their drivers glistening in wet capes, to
discharge under the open shed at the end various
hasty individuals who marshalled long lines of
porters with astonishing impedimenta and drove
them up the gang-plank. A half-dozen roughs
lounged aimlessly. A little bent old woman with
a shawl over her head searched here and there.
Occasionally she would find a twisted splinter of
wood torn from the piles by a hawser or gouged
from the planking by heavy freight, or kicked
from the floor by the hoofs of horses. This she
deposited carefully in a small covered market
basket. She was entirely intent on this minute
and rather pathetic task, quite imattending the
greatness of the ship, or the many people the
great hulk swallowed or spat forth.

Near us against the rail leaned a dark-haired
yoimg Englishman whom later every man on that
many-nationed ship came to recognize and to avoid
as an insufferable bore. Now, however, the angel

THE FAREWELL. 19

of good inspiration stooped to him. He tossed a
copper two-sou piece down to the bent old woman.
She heard the clink of the fall, and looked up
bewildered. One of the waterside roughs slouched
forward. The Englishman shouted a warning and
a threat, indicating in pantomime for whom the
coin was intended. To om* surprise that evil-
looking wharf rat smiled and waved his hand
reassiu'ingly, then took the old woman by the
arm to show her where the coin had fallen. She
hobbled to it with a haste eloquent of the horrible
Marseillaise poverty-stricken alleys, picked it up
joyously, turned — and with a delightful grace
kissed her finger-tips towards the ship.

Apparently we all of us had a few remaining
French coins ; and certainly we were all grateful
to the young EngUshman for his happy thought.
The sous descended as fast as the woman could get
to where they fell. So numerous were they that
she had no time to express her gratitude except in
broken snatches or gesture, in interrupted atti-
tudes of the most complete thanksgiving. The
day of miracles for her had come ; and from the
humble poverty that valued tiny and infrequent
splinters of wood she had suddenly come into
great wealth. Everybody was laughing, but in a
very kindly sort of way it seemed to me ; and the

20 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

very wharf rats and gamins, wolfish and fierce
in their everyday life of the water-front,
seemed to take a genuine pleasure in pointing
out to her the resting-place of those her dim
old eyes had not seen. Silver pieces followed.
These were too wonderful. She grew more and
more excited, imtil several of the passengers lean-
ing over the rail began to murmur wamingly,
fearing harm. After picking up each of these
silver pieces, she bowed and gestured very grace-
fully, waving both hands outward, lifting eyes
and hands to heaven, kissing her fingers, trying by
every means in her power to express the dazzling
wonder and joy that this unexpected marvel was
bringing her. When she had done all these things
many times, she hugged herself ecstatically. A
very weU-dressed and prosperous-looking French-
man standing near seemed to be a little afraid she
might hug him. His fear had, perhaps, some
groimds, for she shook hands with everybody all
around, and showed them her wealth in her ker-
chief, explaining eagerly, the tears running down
her face.

Now the gang-plank was drawn aboard, and the
band struck up the usual lively £iir. At the first
notes the old woman executed a few feeble little jig
steps in sheer exuberance. Then the solemnity of

THE FAREWELL. 21

the situation sobered her. Her great, wealthy,
powerful, kind friends were departing on their long
voyage over mysterious seas. Again and again,
very earnestly, she repeated the graceful, slow
pantomime — ^the wave of the arms outward, the
eyes raised to heaven, tJie hands clasped finally
over her head. As the brown strip of water
silently widened between us it was strangely hke
a stage scene — the roofed sheds of the quay, the
motionless groups, the central figure of the old
woman depicting emotion.

Suddenly she dropped her hands and hobbled
away at a great rate, disappearing finally into the
maze of the street beyond. Concluding that she
had decided to get quickly home with her great
treasure, we commended her discretion and gave
oiu* attention to other things.

The drizzle fell uninterruptedly. We had edged
sidewise the requisite distance, and were now
gathering headway in our long voyage. The
quail was beginning to recede and to diminish.
Back from the street hastened the figure of the
Uttle old woman. She carried a large white cloth,
of which she had evidently been in quest. This
she unfolded and waved vigorously with both
hands. Until we had passed quite from sight
she stood there signalling her farewell. Long

n AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

after we were beyond distinguishing her figure we
could catch the flutter of white. Thus that ship's
company, embarking each on his Great Adven-
ture, far from home and friends, received their
farewell, a very genuine farewell, from one
poor old woman. B. ventured the opinion that
it was the best thing we had bought with our
French money.

t

ni.

PORT SAID.

THE time of times to approach Port Said is
just at the fall of dusk. Then the sea Ues
in opalescent patches, and the low shores fade
away into the gathering night. The slanting
masts and yards of the dhows silhouette against
a sky of the deepest translucent green ; and
the heroic statue of De Lesseps, standing for
ever at the Gateway he opened, points always
to the mysterious East.

The rhythmical, accustomed chug of the en-
gines had fallen to quarter speed, leaving an
uncanny stillness throughout the ship. Silently
we slipped between the long piers, drew up on
the waterside town, seized the buoy, and came
to rest. All around us lay other ships of all
sizes, motionless on the inky water. The re-
flections from their Ughts seemed to be thrust

24 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

into the depths, like stilts ; and the few lights
from the town reflected shiveringly across. Along
the water-front all was dark and silent. We
caught the loom of buildings ; and behind them
a dull glow as from a fire, and guessed tall minar-
ets, and heard the rising and falling of chanting.
Numerous small boats hovered near, floating in
and out of the patches of light we ourselves cast,
waiting for permission to swarm at the gang-plank
for our patronage.

We went ashore, passed through a wicket
gate, and across the dark buildings to the heart
of the town, whence came the dull glow £uid the
sounds of people.

Here were two streets numing across one
another, both brilliantly lighted, both thronged,
both lined with little shops. In the latter one
could buy anjrthing, in any language, with any
money. In them we saw cheap straw hats made
in Germany hung side by side with gorgeous
and beautiful stuffs from the Orient ; shoddy
European garments and Eastern jewels ; cheap
celluloid combs and curious embroideries. The
crowd of passers-by in the streets were com-
pounded in the same curiously mixed fashion ;
a few Europeans, generally in white, and then a
variety of Arabs, Egyptians, Somalis, Berbers,

PORT SAID. 25

East Indians and the like, each in his own
gaudy or graceful costume. It speaks well for
the accuracy of feeling, anyway, of our various
" Midways," " Pikes," and the like of our
world's expositions that the streets of Port
Said looked like Midways raised to the "th power.
Along them we saimtered with a pleasing feeling
of self-importance. On all sides we were gently
and humbly besought — by the shopkeepers, by
the sidewalk vendors, by would-be guides, by
fortune-tellers, by jugglers, by magicians ; all
soft- voiced and respectful ; all yielding as water
to rebuff, but as quick as water to gUde back
again. The vendors were of the colours of the
rainbow, and were heavily hung with long neck-
laces of coral or amber, with scarves, with strings
of silver coins, with sequinned veils and silks,
girt with many dirks and knives, fiunished out
in concealed pockets with scarabs, bracelets,
sandalwood boxes or anjrthing else under the
broad canopy of heaven one might or might not
desire. Their voices were soft and pleasing,
their eyes had the beseeching quahty of a good
dog's, their anxious and deprecating faces were
ready at the slightest encouragement to break
out into the friendliest and most intimate of
smiles. Wherever we went we were accom-

26 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

panied by a retinue straight out of the Arabian
Nights, patiently awaiting the moment when we
should tire ; should seek out the table of a
sidewalk cafe ; and should, in our relaxed mood,
be ready to unbend to our royal purchases.

At that moment we were too much interested
in the town itself. The tiny shops, with their
smiling and insinuating Oriental keepers, were
fascinating in their displays of carved woods,
jewellery, perfumes, silks, tapestries, silversmiths'
work, ostrich feathers, and the like. To either
side the main street lay long narrow dark
alleys, in which flared single hghts, across which
flitted mysterious long-robed figiu-es, from which
floated stray snatches of music either palpitat-
ingly barbaric or ridiculously modem. There
the authority of the straight, soldierly-looking
Soudanese policemen ceased, and it was not
safe to wander unarmed or alone.

Besides these motley variegations of the East
and West, the main feature of the town was the
street car. It was an open-air structure of spa-
cious dimensions, as though benches and a canopy
had been erected rather haphazard on a small
dancing platform. The track is absurdly narrow
in gauge ; and as a consequence the edifice
swayed and swimg from side to side. A single

PORT SAID. 27

mule was attached to it loosely by about
ten feet of rope. It was driven by a gaudy
ragamujSin in a turban. Various other gaudy
ragamuffins lounged largely and picturesquely
on the widely spaced benches. Whence it
came or whither it went I do not know. Its
orbit swimg into the main street, turned a comer,
and disappeared. Apparently Europeans did not
patronize this picturesque wreck, but drove ele-
gantly but mysteriously in small open cabs con-
ducted by totally incongruous turbaned drivers.

We ended finally at an imposing corner hotel,
where we dined by an open window just above
the level of the street. A dozen upturned faces
besought us silently during the meal. At a
glance of even the mildest interest a dozen long
brown arms thrust the spoils of the East upon
our consideration. With us sat a large benign
Swedish professor whose erudition was ency-
clopaedic, but whose kindly hmnanity was greater.
Uttering deep, cavernous chuckles, the professor
bargained. A red coral necklace for the mo-
ment was the matter of interest. The professor
inspected it carefully, and handed it back.

" I doubt if id iss coral," said he simply.

The present owner of the beads went frantic
with rapid-fire proof and vociferation. With the

28 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

swiftness and precision of much repetition he
fished out a match, struck it, applied the flame
to the alleged coral, and blew out the match ;
cast the necklace on the pavement, produced
mysteriously a small hammer, and with it pro-
ceeded frantically to pound the beads. Evi-
dently he was accustomed to being doubted, and
carried his materials for proof around with him.
Then, in one motion, the hanmier disappeared,
the beads were snatched up, and again offered,
unharmed, for inspection.

" Are those good tests for genuineness ? " we
asked the professor, aside.

" As to that," he replied regretfully, " I do
not know. I know of coral only that is the
hard calcareous skeleton of the marine ccelen-
terate polyps ; and that this red coral iss called
of a sclerobasic group ; and other facts of the
kind ; but I do not know if it iss supposed to
resist impact and heat. Possibly," he ended
shrewdly, " it is the conmaon imitation which
does not resist impact and heat. At any rate
they are pretty. How much ? " he demanded
of the vendor, a bright-eyed Egyptian wait-
ing patiently until our conference should
cease.

" Twenty shillings," he replied promptly.

PORT SAID. 29

The professor shook with one of his cavernous
chuckles.

" Too much," he observed, and handed the
necklace back through the window.

The Egyptian would by no means receive
it.

" Keep ! keep ! " he implored, thrusting the
mass of red upon the professor with both
hands. " How much you give ? "

" One shilling," announced the professor firmly.

The coral necklace lay on the edge of the
table throughout most of our leisurely meal. The
vendor argued, pleaded, gave it up, disappeared
in the crowd, returned dramatically after an
interved. The professor ate calmly, chuckled
much, and from time to time repeated firmly
the words, " One shilling." Fiaally, at the
cheese, he reached out, swept the coral into his
pocket, and laid down two shillings. The Egyp-
tian deftly gathered the coin, smiled cheerfully,
and produced a gHttering veil, in which he tried
in vaia to enlist Billy's interest.

For coffee and cigars we moved to the ter-
race outside. Here an orchestra played, the
peoples of many nations sat at little tables, the
peddlers, fakirs, jugglers, and fortune-tellers
swarmed. A half-dozen postal cards seemed

80 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

sufficient to set a small boy up in trade, and
to imbue him with aU the importance and in-
sistence of a merchant with jewels. Other ten-
year-old ragamuffins tried to call our attention
to some sort of sleight-of-hand with poor downy
little chickens. Grave, turbaned, and polite In-
dians squatted cross-legged at our feet, begging
to give us a look into the future by means of the
only genuine hall-marked Yogi-ism ; a troupe of
acrobats went energetically and hopefully through
quite a meritorious performance a few feet away ;
a deftly triumphant juggler did very easily, and
directly beneath our watchful eyes, some really
wonderful tricks. A butterfly-gorgeous swcum
of insinuating smiling peddlers of small things
dangled and spread their wares where they
thought themselves most sure of attention.
Beyond our own little group we saw slowly pass-
ing in the lighted street outside the portico the
variegated and picturesque loungers. Across the
way a phonograph bawled ; our stringed or-
chestra played " The Dollar Princess ; " from
somewhere over in the dark and mysterious alley-
ways came the regular beating of a tom-tom.
The magnificent and picturesque town car with
its gaudy ragamuffins swayed by in train of its
diminutive mule.

PORT SAID. 31

Suddenly our persistent and amusing en-
tourage vanished in all directions. Standing
idly at the portico was a very straight, black
Soudanese. On his head was the usual red fez ;
his clothing was of trim khaki ; his knees and
feet were bare, with blue puttees between ;
and around his middle was drawn close and
smooth a blood-red sash at least a foot and a
half in breadth. He made a fine upstanding
Egyptian figure, and was armed with pride, a
short sheathed club, and a great scorn. No word
spoke he, nor command ; but merely jerked a
thiunb towards the darkness, and into the dark-
ness our many-hued horde melted away. We
were left feeling rather lonesome !

Near midnight we sauntered down the street
to the quay, whence we were rowed to the ship
by another tiu-baned, long-robed figure, who
sweetly begged just a copper or so " for poor
boatman."

We found the ship in the process of coaling,
every porthole and doorway closed, and heavy
canvas hung to protect as far as possible the
clean decks. Two barges were moored alongside.
Two blazing braziers Ughted them with weird
red and flickering flames. In their depths, cast
in black and red shadows, toiled half-guessed

32 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

figures ; from their depths, mounting a single
steep plank, came an unbroken procession of
natives, naked save for a wisp of cloth around
the loins. They trod closely on each other's
heels, carrying each his basket atop his head
or on one shoulder, moimted a gang-plank,
discharged their loads into the side of the ship,
and descended again to the depths by way of
another plank. The Hghts flickered across their
dark faces, their gleaming teeth and eyes. Some-
how the work demanded a heap of screeching,
shouting, and gesticulation ; but somehow also
it went forward rapidly. Dozens of unattached
natives lounged about the gimwales with appar-
ently nothing to do but to look picturesque.
Shore boats moved into the narrow circle of
light, drifted to our gangway, and discharged
huge crates of vegetables, sacks of unknown
stuffs, and returning passengers. A vigilant
poUce boat hovered near to settle disputes,
generally with the blade of an oar. For a long
time we leaned over the rail watching them,
and the various reflected lights in the water,
and the very clear, unwavering stars. Then, the
coaling finished, and the portholes once more
opened, we turned in.

IV.

SUEZ.

SOME time during the night we must have
started, but so gently had we slid along
at fractional speed that until I raised my head
and looked out I had not reaHzed the fact. I
saw a high sandbank. This ghded monotonously
by until I grew tired of looking at it and got
up.

After breakfast, however, I found that thfe
sandbank had various attractions all of its own.
Three camels laden with stone and in convoy of
white-clad figures shuffled down the slope at a
picturesque angle. Two cowled women in black,
veiled to the eyes in gauze heavily sewn with
sequins, barefooted, with massive silver anklets,
watched us pass. Hindu workmen in turban
and loin-cloth fmnished a picturesque note, but
did not seem to be injuring themselves by over-
exertion. Naked small boys raced us for a

84 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

short distance. The banks glided by very
slowly and very evenly, the wash sucked after
us like water in a slough after a duck boat, and
the sky above the yellow sand looked extremely
blue.

At short and regular intervals, half-way up
the miniature sandhills, heavy piles or snubbing-
posts had been planted. For these we at first
could guess no reason. Soon, however, we had
to pass another ship ; and then we saw that
one of us must tie up to avoid being drawn irre-
sistibly by suction into collision with the other.
The craft sidled by, separated by only a few
feet, so that we could look across to each
other's decks and exchange greetings. As the
day grew this interest grew likewise. Dredgers
in the canal ; rusty tramps flying unfamiliar
flags of strange tiny countries ; big freighters,
often with Greek or Turkish characters on their
stems ; small dirty steamers of suspicious busi-
ness ; passenger ships like oiu* own, returning
from the tropics, with white- clad, languid figures
reclining in canvas chairs ; gunboats of this or
that nation bound on mysterious affairs ; once
a P. & 0. converted into a troopship, from whose
every available porthole, hatch, deck, and shroud
laughing, brown, English faces shouted chaff at

SUEZ. 35

our German decks — all these either tied up for
us, or were tied up for by us. The only craft
that received no consideration on our part were
the various picturesque Arab dhows, with their
single masts and the long yards slanting across
them. Since these were very small, our suction
dragged at them cruelly. As a usual thing four
vociferous figures clung desperately to a rope
passed around one of the snubbing-posts ashore,
while an old man shrieked syllables at them
from the dhow itself. As they never by any
chance thought of mooring her both stem and
stem, the dhow generally changed ends rapidly,
shipping considerable water in the process. It
must be very trying to get so excited in a hot
climate.

The high sandbanks of the early part of the
day soon dropped lower to afford us a wider
view. In its broad, general features the country
was, quite simply, the desert of Arizona over
again. There were the same high, distant, and
brittle-looking moimtains, fragile and pearly ;
the same low, broken half- distances ; the same
wide sweeps ; the same wonderful changing
effects of light, colour, shadow, and mirage ; the
same occasional strips of green marking the
water-courses and oases. As to smaller detail,

S6 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

we saw many interesting divergences. In the
foreground constantly recurred the Bedouin
brush shelters, each with its picturesque figure
or so in flowing robes, and its grumpy camels.
Twice we saw travelling caravans, exactly like
the Bible pictures. At one place a single bur-
noused Arab, leaning on his elbows, reclined full
length on the sky-line of a clean-cut sandhill.
Guttering in the mirage, half-guessed, half-seen,
we made out distant httle white towns with
slender palm trees. At places the water from
the canal had overflowed wide tracts of country.
Here, along the shore, we saw thousands of the
water-fowl already famihar to us, as well as
such strangers as gaudy kingfishers, ibises, and
rosy flamingoes.

The canal itself seemed to be in a continual
state of repair. Dredgers were everjrwhere ; some
of the ordinary shovel type, others working by
suction, and discharging far inland by means of
weird huge pipes that apparently meandered at
will over the face of nature. The control sta-
tions were beautifully French and neat, painted
yellow, each with its gorgeous bougainvilleas in
flower, its square-rigged signal masts, its brightly
painted extra buoys standing in a row, its wharf
— and its impassive Arab fishermen thereon. We

SUEZ. 37

reclined in our canvas chairs, had lemon squashes
brought to us, and watched the entertainment
steadily and slowly unrolled before us.

We reached the end of the canal about three
o'clock of the afternoon, and dropped anchor off
the low-lying shores. Our binoculars showed us
white houses in apparently single rank along a
far-reaching narrow sand spit, with sparse trees
and a railroad Hne. That was the town of Suez,
and seemed so little interesting that we were
not particularly sorry that we could not go ashore.
Far in the distance were mountains ; and the
water all about us was the light, clear green of
the sky at srniset.

Innumerable dhows and row-boats swarmed
down, filled with eager salesmen of curios and
ostrich plmnes. They had not much time in
which to bargain, so they made it up in rapid-
fire vociferation. One very tall and dignified
Arab had as sailor of his craft the most extraor-
dinary creature, just above the lower limit of
the human race. He was of a dull coal black,
without a single high light on him anywhere, as
though he had been sand-papered, had prominent
teeth, Kke those of a baboon, in a wrinkled,wizened
monkey face, across which were three tattooed
bands, and possessed a httle, long-armed, spare

88 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

figure, bent and wiry. He clambered up and
down his mast, fetching things at his master's
behest ; leapt nonchalantly for our rail or his own
speir, as the case might be, across the staggering
abyss ; clung so weU with his toes that he might
almost have been classified with the quadrum-
ana; and between times squatted humped over on
the rail, watching us with bright, elfish, alien eyes.
At last the big German sailors bundled the
whole variegated horde overside. It was time
to go, and our anchor chain was already rum-
bling in the hawse pipes. They tmnbled hastily
into their boats ; and at once swarmed up their
masts, whence they feverishly continued their in-
terrupted bargaining. In fact, so fully embarked
on the tides of conmaerce were they, that they
failed to notice the tides of nature widening be-
tween us. One old man, in especial, at the very
top of his mast, jerked hither and thither by the
sea, continued imploringly to offer an utterly
ridiculous carved wooden camel long after it
was impossible to have completed the trans-
action should anybody have been moonstruck
enough to have desired it. Our ship's prow
swimg ; and just at sunset, as the lights of
Suez were twinkling out one by one, we headed
down the Red Sea.

V.

THE RED SEA.

SUEZ is indeed the gateway to the East, In
the Mediterranean often the sea is rough,
the winds cold, passengers are not yet acquainted,
and hug the saloons or the leeward side of the
deck. Once through the canal and all is changed
by magic. The air is hot and languid ; the
ship's company down to the very scullions ap-
pear in inamaculate white ; the saloon chairs
and transoms even are put in white coverings ;
electric fans hum everywhere ; the rim on lemon
squashes begins ; and many quaint and curious
customs of the tropics obtain.

For example : it is etiquette that before
eight o'clock one may wander the decks at will
in one's pyjamas, converse affably with fair
ladies in pigtail and kimono, and be not abashed.
But on the stroke of eight bells it is also eti-
quette to disappear very promptly and to array

40 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

one's self for the day ; and it is very improper
indeed to see or be seen after that hour in the
rather extreme negligee of the early morning.
Also it becomes the miiversal custom, or perhaps
I should say the necessity, to slumber for an
hour after the noon meal. Certainly sleep de-
scending on the tropical traveUer is armed with
a bludgeon. Passengers, crew, steerage, " deck,"
animal, and bird fall down then in an enchant-
ment. I have often wondered who navigates
the ship during that sacred hour, or, indeed, if
anybody navigates it at all. Perhaps that time
is sacred to the genii of the old East, who close
all prjdng mortal eyes, but in return lend a
guiding hand to the most pressing of mortal
affairs. The deck of the ship is a curious sight
between the hours of half-past one and three.
The tropical siesta requires no couching of the
form. You sit down in your chair, with a book
— you fade slowly into a deep, restful slmnber.
And yet it is a slumber wherein certain small
pleasant things persist from the world outside.
You remain dimly conscious of the rhythmic
throbbing of the engines, of the beat of soft,
warm air on your cheek.

At three o'clock or thereabout you rise as
gently back to life, and sit erect in your chair

THE RED SEA. 41

without a stretch or a yawn in your whole anat-
omy. Then is the one time of day for a display of
energy — if you have any to display. Ship games,
walks — fairly brisk — explorations to the fore-
castle, a watch for flying fish or Arab dhows,
anything until tea-time. Then the glowing sun-
set ; the opalescent sea, and the soft afterglow
of the sky — and the bugle summoning you to dress.
That is a mean job. Nothing could possibly
swelter worse than the tiny cabin. The electric
fan is an aggravation. You reappear in your
fresh " whites " somewhat warm and flustered
in both mind and body. A turn around the
deck cools you off ; and dinner restores your
equanimity — dinner with the soft, warm tropic
air breathing through all the wide-open ports ;
the electric fans drumming busily ; the men all in
clean white ; the ladies, the very few precious
ladies, in soft, low gowns. After dinner the
deck, as near cool as it will be, and heads bare to
the breeze of our progress, and glowing cigars.
At ten or eleven o'clock the groups begin to
break up, the canvas chairs to empty. Soon
reappears a pyjamaed figure followed by a stew-
ard carrying a mattress. This is spread, imder
its owner's direction, in a dark corner forward.

With a sigh you in your turn plunge down into

2a

42 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

the sweltering inferno of your cabin, only to
reappear likewise with a steward and a mattress.
The latter, if you are wise, you spread where
the wind of the ship's going will be full upon
you. It is a strong wind and blows upon you
heavily, so that the sleeves and legs of your
pyjamas flop, but it is a soft, warm wind, and
beats you as with muffled fingers. In no tem-
perate clime can you ever enjoy this peculiar
effect of a strong breeze on your naked skin
without even the faintest surface chilly sensation.
So habituated has one become to feeling cooler
in a draught that the absence of chill lends the
night an unaccustomedness, the more weird in
that it is imanalyzed, so that one feels definitely
that one is in a strange, far country. This is
intensified by the fact that in these latitudes the
moon, the great, glorious, calm tropical moon,
is directly overhead — follows the centre line of the
zenith — instead of being, as with us in our tem-
perate zone, always more or less declined to the
horizon. This, too, lends the night an exotic
quality, the more effective in that at first the
reason for it is not apprehended.

A night in the tropics is always more or less
broken. One awakens, and sleeps ag£iin. Motion-
less white-clad figures, cigarettes glowing, are

THE RED SEA. 43

lounging against the rail looking out over a
molten sea. The moonlight Hes in patterns
across the deck, shivering slightly under the
throb of the engines, or occasionally swaying
slowly forward or slowly back as the ship's
course changes, but otherwise motionless, for
here the sea is always calm. You raise your
head, look about, sprawl in a new position on
your mattress, fall asleep. On one of these
occasions you find unexpectedly that the velvet-
gray night has become steel-gray dawn, and
that the kindly old quarter-master is bending
over you. Sleepily, very sleepily, you stagger
to your feet and collapse into the nearest chair.
Then to the swish of water, as the sailors sluice
the decks all around and under you, you fall
into a really deep sleep.

At six o'clock this is broken by chota-hazri,
another tropical institution, consisting merely of
clear tea and biscuits. I never could get to
care for it, but nowhere in the tropics could I
head it off. No matter how tired I was or how
dead sleepy, I had to receive that confounded
chota-hazri. Throwing things at the native
who brought it did no good at all. He merely
dodged. Admonition did no good, nor prohi-
bition in strong terms. I was but one white

44 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

man of the whole white race ; and I had no
right to possess idiosyncrasies running counter
to dastur, the custom. However, as the early
hoinrs are profitable hours in the tropics, it did
not drive me to homicide.

The ship's company now developed. Our two
prize members, fortunately for us, sat at our
table. The first was the Swedish professor
aforementioned. He was large, benign, pater-
nal, broad in mind, thoroughly human and be-
loved, and yet profoundly erudite. He was our
iconoclast in the way of food ; for he performed
small but illiuninating dissections on his plate,
and announced triumphtmtly results that were
not a bit in accordance with the menu. A single
bone W81S sufficient to take the pretension out
of any fish. Our other particular friend was C,
with whom later we travelled in the interior of
Africa. C. is a very celebrated hunter and ex-
plorer, an old Africander, his face seamed and
tanned by many years in a hard climate. For
several days we did not recognize him, although
he sat fairly alongside, but put him down as a
shy man, and let it go at that. He never stayed
for the long table d'hote dinners, but fell upon
the first solid course and made a complete meal
from that. When he had quite finished eating

THE RED SEA. 45

all he could, he drank all he could ; then he
departed from the table, and took up a remote
and inaccessible position in the corner of the
smoking-room. He was engaged in growing the
beard he customarily wore in the jungle — a most
fierce outstanding Mohammedan-looking beard
that terrified the intrusive into submission.
And yet Bwana C. possesses the kindest blue
eyes in the world, full of quiet patience, great
understanding, and infinite gentleness. His man-
ner was abrupt and uncompromising, but he
would do anything in the world for one who
stood in need of him. From women he fled ;
yet Billy won him with infinite patience, and in
the event they became the closest of friends.
Withal he possessed a pair of the most powerful
shoulders I have ever seen on a man of his
frame ; and in the depths of his mild blue eyes
flickered a flame of resolution that I could well
imagine flaring up to something formidable.
Slow to make friends, but staunch and loyal ;
gentle and forbearing, but fierce and implacable
in action ; at once loved and most terribly
feared ; shy as a wild animal, but straightforward
and undeviating in his human relations ; most
remarkably quiet and unassuming, but with tre-
mendous vital force in his deep eyes and forward-

46 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

thrust jaw ; informed with the widest and most
understanding humanity, but unforgiving of
evildoers ; and with the most direct and abso-
lute courage, Bwana C. was to me the most in-
teresting man I met in Africa, and became the
best of my friends.

The only other man at our table happened to
be, for oiu" sins, the young EngUshman mentioned
as throwing the first coin to the old woman on
the pier at Marseilles. We will call him Brown,
and, because he represents a type, he is worth
looking upon for a moment.

He was of the super-enthusiastic sort ; bub-
bling over with vitaUty, in and out of everything ;
bounding up at odd and languid moments. To
an extraordinary extent he was afflicted with the
spiritual blindness of his class. Quite genuinely,
quite seriously, he was imconscious of the human
significance of beings and institutions belonging
to a foreign country or even to a class other
than his own. His own kind he treated as com-
plete and understandable human creatures. All
others were merely objective. As we, to a cer-
tain extent, happened to fall in the former cate-
gory, he was as pleasant to us as possible —
that is, he was pleasant to us in his way, but
had not insight enough to guess at how to be

THE RED SEA. 47

pleasant to us in our way. But as soon as he got
out of his own class, or what he conceived to be
such, he considered all people as " outsiders." He
did not credit them with prejudices to rub, with
feelings to hurt, indeed hardly with ears to over-
hear. Provided his subject was an " outsider,"
he had not the sHghtest hesitancy in saying ex-
actly what he thought about any one, anywhere,
always in his high clear English voice, no matter
what the time or occasion. As a natural corol-
lary he always rebuffed beggars and the like
brutally, and was always quite sublimely doing
little things that thoroughly shocked oiu' sense
of the other fellow's rights as a human being. In
all this he did not mean to be cruel or inconsid-
erate. It was just the way he was built ; and
it never entered his head that " such people "
had ears and brains.

In the rest of the ship's company were a dozen
or so other EngHshmen of the upper classes,
either army men on shooting trips, or youths
going out with some idea of settling in the coun-
try. They were a clean-built, pleasant lot ; good
people to know anywhere, but of no unusual
interest. It was only when one went abroad
into the other nations that inscribable human
interest could be found.

48 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

There was the Greek, Scutari, and his bride,
a languorous rather opulent beauty, with large
dark eyes for all men, and a luxurious manner of
lying back and fanning herself. She talked,
soft-voiced, in half a dozen languages, changing
from one to the other without a break in either
her fluency or her thought. Her httle Uthe,
active husband sat £iround and adored her. He
was apparently a very able citizen indeed, for
he was going out to take charge of the con-
struction work on a German railway. To have
filched so important a job from the Germans
themselves shows that he must have had ability.
With them were a middle-aged Holland couple,
engaged conscientiously in travelling over the
globe. They had been everjrwhere — ^the two
American hemispheres, from one Arctic Sea to
another, Siberia, China, the Malay Archipelago,
this, that, and the other odd comer of the world.
Always they sat placidly side by side, either in
the saloon or on deck, smiling benignly, and
conversing in spaced, comfortable syllables with
everybody who happened along. Mrs. Breemen
worked industriously on some kind of feminine
gear, and explained to all and sundry that she
travelled " to see de sceenery wid my hoos-
band."

THE RED SEA. 49

Also in this group was a small wiry German
doctor, who had lived for many years in the far
interior of Africa, and was now retmning after
his vacation. He was a little man, bright-eyed
and keen, with a clear complexion and hard flesh,
in striking and agreeable contrast to most of his
compatriots. The latter were trying to drink all
the beer on the ship ; but as she had been stocked
for an eighty- day voyage, of which this was but
the second week, they were not making notice-
able headway. However, they did not seem to
be easily discouraged. The Herr Doktor was
most pohte and attentive, but as we did not
talk German nor much Swahih, and he had
neither EngKsh nor much French, we had our
difficulties. I have heard Billy in talking to
him scatter fragments of these fom* languages
through a single sentence !

For several days we drifted down a warm flat
sea. Then one morning we came on deck to find
oiu*selves close aboard a nrnnber of volcanic
islands. They were composed entirely of red
and dark purple lava blocks, rugged, quite
without vegetation save for occasional patches
of stringy green in a gully ; and uninhabited
except for a lighthouse on one, and a fishing
shanty near the shores of another. The high

60 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

mournful mountcuns, with their dark shadows,
seemed to brood over hot desolation. The
rusted and battered stem of a wrecked steamer
stuck up at an acute angle from the surges.
Shortly after we picked up the shores of Arabia.
Note the advantages of a half ignorance.
From early childhood we had thought of Arabia
as the " burning desert " — flat, of course — and
of the Red Sea as bordered by " shifting sands "
alone. If we had known the truth — if we had
not been half ignorant — we would have missed
the profound surprise of discovering that in
reahty the Red Sea is bordered by high and
rugged mountains, leaving just space enough
between themselves and the shore for a sloping
plain on which our glasses could make out occa-
sional palms. Perhaps the " shifting sands of
the burning desert " lie somewhere beyond ; but
somebody might have mentioned these great
mountains ! After examining them attentively
we had to confess that if this sort of thing con-
tinued farther north the children of Israel must
have had a very hard time of it. Mocha shone
white, glittering, and low, with the red and white
spire of a mosque rising brilliantly above it.

VI.

ADEN.

IT was cooler ; and for a change we had
turned into our bimks, when B. pounded on
our stateroom door.

" In the name of the Eternal East," S£iid he,
" come on deck ! "

We slipped on kimonos, and joined the row
of scantily draped and interested figures along
the rail.

The ship lay quite still on a perfect sea of
moonlight, bordered by a low flat distant shore
on one side, and nearer mountains on the other.
A strong flare, centred from two ship reflectors
overside, made a focus of illmnination that sub-
dued, but could not quench, the soft moonlight
with which all outside was silvered. A dozen
boats, striving against a current or clinging as
best they could to the ship's side, glided into
the light and became real and soHd ; or dropped

62 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

back into the ghostly white imsubstantiality
of the moon. They were long, narrow boats,
with small flush decks fore and aft. We looked
down on them from almost directly above, so
that we saw the thwarts and the ribs and the
things they contained.

Astern in each stood men, bending gracefully
against the thrust of long sweeps. About their
waists were squares of cloth, wrapped twice and
tucked in. Otherwise they were naked, and the
long smooth muscles of their slender bodies
rippled under the skin. The latter was of a
beautiful fine texture, and chocolate brown.
These men had keen, intelligent, clear-cut faces,
of the Greek order, as though the statues of a
garden had been stained brown and had come
to life. They leaned on their sweeps, thrust-
ing slowly but strongly against the little wind
and current that would drift them back.

In the body of the boats crouched, sat, or lay a
picturesque mob. Some pulled spasmodically on
the very long limber oars ; others squatted do-
ing nothing ; some, huddled shapelessly imder-
neath white cloths that completely covered them,
slept soundly in the bottom. We took these for
merchandise until one of them suddenly threw
aside his covering and sat up. Others, again.

ADEN. 53

poised in proud and graceful attitudes on the
extreme prows of their bobbing craft. Espe-
cially decorative were two, clad only in immense
white turbans and white cloths about the waist.
An old Arab with a white beard stood midships
in one boat, quite motionless, except for the slight
swaying necessary to preserve his equihbriiun,
his voluminous white draperies fluttering in the
wind, his dark face just distinguishable under
his burnouse. Most of the men were Somalis,
however. Their keen small faces, slender but
graceful necks, slim, well-formed torsos bending
to every movement of the boat, and the white or
gaudy draped nether garments were as decora-
tive as the figures on an Egyptian tomb. One
or two of the more barbaric had made neat head-
dresses of white clay plastered in the form of a
skull-cap.

After an interval a small and fussy tugboat
steamed aroimd our stem and drew alongside
the gangway. Three passengers disembarked
from her and made their way aboard. The main
deck of the craft imder an awning was heavily
encumbered with trunks, tin boxes, hand bag-
gage, tin bath-tubs, gun cases, and all sorts of
impedimenta. The tugboat moored itself to us
fore and aft, and proceeded to think about dis-

54 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

charging. Perhaps twenty men in accurate replica
of those in the small boats had charge of the
job. They had their own methods. After a long
interval devoted strictly to nothing, some un-
fathomable impulse would incite one or two or
three of the natives to tackle a tnmk. At it
they tugged and heaved and pushed in the
manner of ants making off with a particularly
large fly or other treasure trove, tossing it up
the steep gangway to the level of our decks. The
trunks once safely bestowed, all interest, all in-
dustry, died. We thought that finished it, and
wondered why the tug did not puU out of the
way. But always, after an interval, another
bright idea would strike another native or natives.
He — or they — would disappear beneath the can-
vas awning over the tug's deck, to emerge
shortly, carrying almost anything, from a par-
asol to a heavy chest.

On close inspection they proved to be a very
small people. The impression of graceful height
had come from the slendemess and justness of
their proportions, the smallness of their bones,
and the upright grace of their carriage. After
standing alongside one, we acquired a fine re-
spect for their ability to handle those trunks
at all.

ADEN. 55

Moored to the other side of the ship we found
two huge hghters, from which bales of goods
were being hoisted aboard. Two camels and a
dozen diminutive mules stood in the waist of one
of these craft. The camels were as sniffy and
supercilious and scornful as camels always are ;
and everybody promptly hated them with the
hatred of the abysmally inferior spirit for some-
thing that scorns it, as is the usual attitude of the
human mind towards camels. We waited for
upwards of an hour, in the hope of seeing those
camels hoisted aboard ; but in vain. While
we were so waiting one of the deck passengers
below us, a SomaU in white clothes and a gor-
geous cerise tiu'ban, decided to timi in. He
spread a square of thin matting atop one of the
hatches, and began to unwind yards and yards of
the fine silk tiu'ban. He came to the end of it —
whisk ! he sank to the deck ; the turban, spread
open by the resistance of the air, fluttered down
to cover him from head to foot. Apparently he
fell asleep at once, for he did not again move nor
alter his position. He, as well as an astonish-
ingly large proportion of the other Somahs and
Abyssinians we saw, carried a queer, well-de-
fined, triangular wound in his head. It had long
since healed, was an inch or so across, and looked

56 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

as though a piece of the skull had been removed.
If a conscientious enemy had leisure and an ice-
pick he would do just about that sort of a job.
How its recipient had escaped instant death is
a mystery.

At length, about three o'clock, despairing of
the camels, we turned in.

After three hours' sleep we were again on
deck. Aden by daylight seemed to be several
sections of a town tucked into pockets in bold,
raw, lava mountains that came down fairly to
the water's edge. Between these pockets ran a
narrow shore road ; and along the road paced
haughty camels hitched to diminutive carts. On
contracted round bluffs towards the sea were
various low bungalow buildings which, we were
informed, comprised the mihtary and civil offi-
cers' quarters. The real Aden has been built
inland a short distance at the bottom of a cup
in the mountains. Elaborate stone reservoirs
have been constructed to catch rain water, as
there is no other natural water supply whatever.
The only difficulty is that it practically never
rains ; so the reservoirs stand empty, the water
is distilled from the sea, and the haughty camels
and the little carts do the distributing.

The lava mountains occupy one side of the

We waited patiently to see tlie camels slung aboard
by the crane.

ADEN. 57

spacious bay or gulf. The foot of the bay and
the other side are fiat, with one or two very
distant white villages, and many heaps of ghtter-
ing salt as big as houses.

We waited patiently at the rail for an hour
more to see the camels slung aboard by the
crane. It was worth the wait. They lost their
impassive and immemorial dignity completely,
sprawling, groaning, positively shrieking in dis-
may. When the solid deck rose to them, and
the sling had been loosened, however, they re-
gained their poise instantaneously. Their noses
went up in the air, and they looked about them
with a challenging, unsmiling superiority, as
though to dare any one of us to laugh. Their
native attendants immediately squatted down in
front of them, and began to feed them with con-
venient lengths of what looked like our common
marsh cat-tails. The camels did not even then
manifest the slightest interest in the proceedings.
Indeed, they would not condescend to reach out
three inches for the most luscious tit-bit held
that far from their aristocratic noses. The attend-
ants had actually to thrust the fodder between
their jaws. I am glad to say they condescended
to chew.

vn.

THE INDIAN OCEAN.

1EAVING Aden, and rounding the great prom-
-^ ontory of Cape Guardafni, we turned south
along the coast of Africa. Off the cape were
strange, oily cross rips and currents on the sur-
face of the sea ; the flying-fish rose in flocks
before our bows ; high mountains of peaks and
flat table tops thrust their summits into clouds ;
and along the coast the breakers spouted like
whales. For the first time, too, we began to ex-
perience what our preconceptions had imagined
as tropical heat. Heretofore we had been hot
enough, in all conscience, but the air had felt as
though wafted from an opened furnace door —
dry and scorching. Now, although the tem-
perature was lower,* the humidity was greater.
A swooning languor was abroad over the spell-
bound ocean, a relaxing mist of enchantment.

• 82-88° in daytime, and 76-83" at night.

THE INDIAN OCEAN. 59

My glasses were constantly clouding over with a
fine coating of water drops ; exposed metal rusted
overnight ; the folds in garments accumulated
mildew in an astonishingly brief period of time.
There was never even the suggestion of chill in
this dampness. It clung and enveloped like a
grateful garment ; £ind seemed only to lack
sweet perfume.

At this time, by good fortune, it happened
that the moon came full. We had enjoyed its
waxing during om* voyage down the Red Sea ;
but now it had reached its greatest phase, and
hung over the slumbering tropic ocean Uke a
lantern. The lazy sea stirred beneath it, and the
ship glided on, its lights fairly subdued by the
splendour of the waters. Under the awnings the
ship's company lounged in lazy attitudes or prom-
enaded slowly, talking low voiced, cigeirs glowing
in the splendid dusk. Overside, in the furrow
of the disturbed waters, the phosphorescence
flashed perpetually beneath the shadow of the
ship.

The days passed by languidly and all aHke.
On the chart outside the smoking-room door the
procession of tiny German flags on pins marched
steadily, an inch at a time, towards the south.
Otherwise we might as well have imagined our-

60 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. i

I

selves midgets afloat in a pond and getting no-
where.

Somewhere north of the equator — before Father

Neptune in ancient style had come aboard and |

ducked the lot of us — we were treated to the !

spectacle of how the German " sheep " reacts j

under a joke. Each nation has its type of fool ; i

and all, for the joyousness of mankind, differ. j

On the bulletin board one evening appeared a j
notice to the effect that the following morning a

limited nimiber of sportsmen would be permitted ;
ashore for the day. Each was advised to bring
his own lunch, rifle, and drinks. The reason

alleged was that the ship must round a certain i

cape across which the sportsmen could march •

afoot in sufficient time to permit them a little j

shooting. I

Now aboard ship were a dozen English, four !

Americans, and thirty or forty Germans. The i

Americans and English looked upon that bulletin, i

smiled gently, and went to order another roimd of [

lemon squashes. It was a meek, mild, Uttle joke f.

enough ; but surely the bulletin board was as far *

as it could possibly go. Next morning, however, |

we observed a half-dozen of our German friends '
in khaki and sun helmet, very busy with lunch
boxes, bottles of beer, rifles, and the like. They

THE INDIAN OCEAN. 61

said they were going ashore as per bulletin. We
looked at each other and hied us to the upper
deck. There we found one of the boats slung
overside, with our old friend the quartermaster
ostentatiously stowing kegs of water, boxes, and
the like.

" When," we inquired gently, " does the expe-
dition start ? "

" At ten o'clock," said he.

It was now within fifteen minutes of that hour.

We were at the time fully ten miles off shore, and
forging ahead full speed parallel with the coast.

We pointed out this fact to the quartermaster,
but found, to our sorrow, that the poor old
man had suddenly gone deaf ! We therefore re-
frained from asking several other questions that
had occurred to us — such as, why the cape was
not shown on the map.

" Somebody," said one of the Americans, a
cowboy going out second class on the look for new
cattle country, " is a goat. It sure looks to me
like it was these yere steamboat people. They
can't expect to rope nothing on such a raw deal
as this ! "

To which the EngUsh assented, though in
different idiom.

But now up the companion ladder struggled

est AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

eight serious-minded individuals herded by the
second mate. They were armed to the teeth,
and thoroughly equipped with things I had seen
in German catalogues, but in whose existence I
had never believed. A half-dozen sailors eagerly
helped them with their multitudinous effects.
Not a thought gave they to the fact that we were
ten miles off the coast, that we gave no indication
of slackening speed, that it would take the rest
of the day to row ashore, that there was no cape
for us to round, that if there were — oh ! all the
other hundred improbabihties peculiar to the
situation. Under direction of the mate they
deposited their impedimenta beneath a tarpaulin,
and took their places in solemn rows amidships
across the thwarts of the boat slung overside.
The importance of the occasion sat upon them
heavily ; they were going ashore — in Africa — to
Slay Wild Beasts. They looked upon themselves
as of bolder, sterner stuff than the rest of us.

When the procession first appeared, our cow-
boy's face for a single instant had flamed with
amazed incredulity. Then a mask of expres-
sionless stolidity fell across his features, which
in no line thereafter varied one iota.

" What are they going to do with them ? "
murmured one of the Enghshmen, at a loss.

THE INDIAN OCEAN. 63

" I reckon," said the cowboy, " that they
look on this as the easiest way to drown them
all to onct."

Then from behind one of the other boats sud-
denly appeared a huge German sailor with a hose.
The devoted imbeciles in the shore boat were
drenched as by a cloud-burst. Back and forth
and up and down the heavy stream played, while
every other human being about the ship shrieked
with joy. Did the victims rise up in a body and
capture that hose nozzle and turn the stream
to sweep the decks ? Did they duck for shelter ?
Did they at least know enough to scatter and
run ? They did none of these things ; but sat
there in meek Httle rows like mannikins until the
boat was half full of water and everything awash.
Then, when the sailor shut off the stream, they
continued to sit there until the mate came to
order them out. Why ? I cannot tell you.
Perhaps that is the German idea of how to take
a joke. Perhaps they were afraid worse things
might be consequent on resistance. Perhaps they
still hoped to go ashore. One of the EngUshmen
asked just that question.

" What," he demanded disgustedly, " what is
the matter with the beggars ? "

Our cowboy may have had the correct solution.

64 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

He stretched his long legs and jumped down from
the rail.

" Nothing stirring above the ears," said he.

It is customary in books of travel to describe this
part of the journey somewhat as follows : " Skirt-
ing the low and uninteresting shores of Africa we
at length reached," etc. Low and uninteresting
shores ! Tlirough the glasses we made out distant
mountains far beyond nearer hills. The latter
were green-covered with dense forests whence rose
mysterious smokes. Along the shore we saw an
occasional cocoanut plantation to the water's
edge and native huts and villages of thatch.
Canoes of strange models lay drawn up on
shelving beaches ; queer fish-pounds of brush
reached out considerable distances from the coast.
The white surf pounded on a yellow beach.

All about these things was the jungle, hem-
ming in the plantations and villages, bordering
the lagoons, creeping down until it fairly over-
hung the yellow beaches ; as though, conqueror
through all the country beyond, it were half-
inclined to dispute dominion with old Ocean
himself. It looked from the distance like a
thick, soft coverlet thrown down over the
country ; following — or, rather, suggesting — ^the
inequalities. Through the glasses we were occa-

THE INDIAN OCEAN. 66

sionally able to peep under the edge of this
coverlet, and see where the fringe of the jungle
drew back in a little pocket, or to catch the sheen
of mysterious dark rivers sHpping to the sea.
Up these dark rivers, by way of the entrances of
these tiny pockets, the imagination then could
lead on into the dimness beneath the sunJit upper
surfaces.

Towards the close of one afternoon we changed
our course shghtly, and swung in on a long slant
towards the coast. We did it casually ; too casu-
ally for so very important an action, for now at
last we were about to touch the mysterious con-
tinent. Then we saw clearer the fine, big groves
of palm and the luxuriance of the tropical vege-
tation. Against the greenery, bold and white,
shone the buildings of Mombasa ; and after a
little while we saw an inland gHtter that
represented her narrow, deep bay, the stem of a
wreck against the low, green chffs, and strange,
fat-trimked squat trees without leaves. Straight
past all this we glided at half speed, then turned
sharp to the right to enter a long wide expanse
like a river, with green banks, twenty feet or so in
height, grown thickly with the tall cocoanut palms.
These gave way at times into broad, low lagoons,

at the end of which were small beaches and boats,

3

66 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and native huts among more cocoanut groves.
Through our glasses we could see the black men
watching us, quite motionless, squatted on their
heels.

It was like suddenly entering another world,
this ghding from the open sea straight into the
heart of a green land. The ceaseless wash of
waves we had left outside with the ocean ; our
engines had fallen silent. Across the hushed
waters came to us strange chantings and the
beating of a tom-tom, an occasional shrill shout
from the unknown jimgle. The sun was just set,
emd the tops of the palms caught the last rays ;
all below was dense green shadow. Across the
smiace of the water ghded dug-out canoes of
shapes strange to us. We passed ancient ruins
almost completely dismantled, their stones half
smothered in green rank growth. The wide
river-like bay stretched on before us as far as
the waning light permitted us to see ; finally
losing itself in the heart of mystery.

Steadily and confidently our ship steamed for-
ward, until at last, when we seemed to be afloat
in a land-locked lake, we dropped anchor and
came to rest.

Darkness fell utterly before the usual quaran-
tine regulations had been carried through. Active

THE INDIAN OCEAN. 67

and efficient agents had already taken charge of
our affairs, so we had only to wait idly by the
rail until summoned. Then we jostled oiur way
down the long gangway, passed and repassed by
natives carrying baggage or returning for more
baggage, stepped briskly aboard a very bobby
httle craft, clambered over a huge pile of bag-
gage, and stowed ourselves as best we could.
A figure in a long white robe sat astern, tiller
ropes in hand; two half -naked blacks far up to-
wards the prow manipulated a pair of tremendous
sweeps. With a vast heaving, jabbering, and
shouting, our boat disengaged itself from the
swarm of other craft. We floated around the
stem of our ship, and were immediately sus-
pended in blackness dotted with the stars and
their reflections, and with various twinkling
scattered Hghts. To one of these we steered,
and presently touched at a stone quay with
steps. At last we set foot on the land to which
so long we had journeyed and towards which
our expectations had grown so great. We ex-
perienced " the pleasure that touches the souls
of men landing on strange shores."

VIII.
MOMBASA.

A SINGLE light shone at the end of the
stone quay, and another inside a big in-
determinate building at some distance. We stum-
bled towards this, and found it to be the biggest
shed ever constructed out of corrugated iron. A
bearded Sikh stood on guard at its open entrance.
He let any one and every one enter, with never
a flicker of his expressionless black eyes ; but
allowed no one to go out again without the
closest scrutiny for dutiable articles that lacked
the blue customs plaster. We entered. The
place was vast and bamlike and dim, and very,
very hot. A half-dozen East Indians stood be-
hind the counters ; another, a babu, sat at a
Httle desk ready to give his clerical attention to
what might be required. We saw no Euro-
pean ; but next morning found that one passed
his daylight hours in this inferno of heat. For

MOMBASA. 69

the moment we let om- main baggage go, and
occupied ourselves only with getting through our
smaller effects. This accomphshed, we stepped
out past the Sikh into the grateful night.

We had as guide a slender and wiry individual
clad in tarboush and long white robe. In a
vague, general way we knew that the town of
Mombasa was across the island and about four
miles distant. In what direction or how we
got there we had not the remotest idea.

The guide set off at a brisk pace with which
we tried in vain to keep step. He knew the
ground, and we did not ; and the night was
black dark. Commands to stop were of no
avail whatever ; nor could we get hold of him
to restrain him by force. When we put on
speed he put on speed too. His white robe ghm-
mered ahead of us just in sight ; and in the
darkness other white robes, passing and crossing,
glimmered also. At first the ground was rough,
so that we stumbled outrageously. Billy and
B. soon fell behind, and I heard their voices
calling plaintively for us to slow down a bit.

" If I ever lose this nigger, I'll never find him
again," I shouted back, " but I can find you.
Do the best you can ! "

We struck a smoother road that led up a hill

70 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

on a long slant. Apparently for miles we fol-
lowed thus, the white-robed individual ahead
still deaf to all commands and the blood-curdling
threats I had now come to uttering. All our
personal baggage had long since mysteriously
disappeared, ravished away from us at the
customs house by a ragged horde of blacks. It
began to look as though we were stranded in
Africa without baggage or effects. Billy and B.
were all the time growing fainter in the distance,
though evidently they too had struck the long,
slanting road.

Then we came to a dim, solitary Ifuitem glow-
ing feebly beside a bench at what appeared to
be the top of the hill. Here our guide at last
came to a halt and turned to me a grinning face.

" Samama hapa," he observed.

There ! That was the word I had been fran-
tically searching my memory for ! Samama —
stop !

The others struggled in. We were very warm.
Up to the bench led a tiny car track, the rails
not over two feet apart, like the toy railroads
children use. This did not look much Uke grown-
up transportation, but it and the bench and the
dim lantern represented all the visible world.

We sat philosophically on the bench and

MOMBASA. 71

enjoyed the soft tropical night. The air was
tepid, heavy with unknown perfume, black as a
band of velvet across the eyes, musical with the
subdued imdertones of a thousand thousand night
insects. At points overhead the soft blind dark-
ness melted imperceptibly into stars.

After a long interval we distinguished a dis-
tant faint rattling, that each moment increased
in loudness. Shortly came into view along the
narrow tracks a most extraordinary vehicle.
It was a small square platform on wheels, across
which ran a bench seat, and over which spread
a canopy. It carried also a dim lantern. This
rumbled up to us and stopped. From its stern
hopped two black boys. Obeying a smiling
invitation, we took our places on the bench.
The two boys immediately set to pushing us along
the narrow track.

We were off at an astonishing speed through
the darkness. The night was deliciously tepid ;
and, as I have said, absolutely dark. We made
out the tops of palms and the dim loom of great
spreading trees, and could smell sweet, soft
odours. The bare-headed, lightly-clad boys pat-
tered alongside whenever the grade was easy, one
hand resting against the rail ; or pushed mightily
up little hills ; or clung alongside like monkeys

7« AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

while we rattled and swooped and plunged
down hill into the darkness. Subsequently we
learned that a huge flat beam projecting amid-
ships from beneath the seat operated a brake
which we above were supposed to manipulate ;
but being quite ignorant as to the ethics and
mechanics of this strange street-car system, we
swung and swayed at times quite breathlessly.

After about fifteen minutes we began to pick
up lights ahead, then to pass dimly-seen garden
walls with trees whose brilliant flowers the lan-
tern revealed fitfully. At last we made out white
stucco houses, and shortly drew up with a
flourish before the hotel itself.

This was a two- story stucco affair, with deep
verandas sunken in at each story. It fronted a
wide white street facing a pubHc garden ; and
this, we subsequently discovered, was about the
only clear and open space in all the narrow town.
Antelope horns were everywhere hung on the
walls ; and teak wood easy- chairs, with rests on
which comfortably to elevate your feet above
your head, stood all about. We entered a bare,
brick-floored dining-room, and partook of tropical
fruits quite new to us — papayes, mangoes, cus-
tard apples, pawpaws, and the small red eating
bananas too delicate for export. Overhead the

Vasco da Gama Street, the principal thoroughfare of Mombasa.

The trolley car of Mombasa.

MOMBASA. 73

punkahs swung back and forth in lazy hypnotic
rhythm. We could see the two blacks at the ends
of the punkah cords outside on the veranda,
their bodies swaying lithely in alternation as
they threw their weight against the light ropes.
Other blacks, in the long white robes and ex-
quisitely worked white skull caps of the Swahili,
gUded noiselessly on bare feet, serving.

After dinner we sat out until midnight in the
teakwood chairs of the upper gallery, staring
through the arches into the black, mysterious
night, for it was very hot, and we rather dreaded
the necessary mosquito veils as likely to prove
stuffy. The mosquitoes are few in Mombasa, but
they are very deadly — very. At midnight the
thermometer stood 87° F.

Our premonitions as to stuffiness were well
justified. After a restless night we came awake
at daylight to the sound of a fine row of some
sort going on outside in the streets. Immediately
we arose, threw aside the lattices, and hung out
over the sill.

The chalk-white road stretched before us.
Opposite was a pubhc square, grown with bril-
liant flowers, and flowering trees. We could not
doubt the cause of the trouble. An Indian on

a bicycle, hurrying to his office, had knocked

3a

74 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

down a native child. Said child, quite naked,
sat in the middle of the white dust and howled
to rend the heavens — whenever he felt himself
observed. If, however, the attention of the
crowd happened for the moment to be engrossed
with the babu, the injured one sat up straight
and watched the row with interested, rolling,
pickaninny eyes. A native policeman made the
centre of a whirling, vociferating group. He
was a fine-looking chap, straight and soldierly,
dressed in red tarboosh, khaki coat bound close
around the waist by yards and yards of broad red
webbing, loose, short drawers of khaki, bare knees
and feet, and blue puttees between. His man-
ner was inflexible. The babu jabbered excitedly ;
telling, in all probability, how he was innocent
of fault, was late for his work, etc. In vain.
He had to go ; also the kid, who now, seeing
himself again an object of interest, recom-
menced his howling. Then the babu began
frantically to indicate members of the crowd
whom he desired to retain as witnesses. Evi-
dently not pleased with the prospect of appear-
ing in court, those indicated promptly ducked
and ran. The policeman as promptly pursued
and collared them one by one. He was a long-
legged policeman, and he ran well. The moment

MOMBASA. 76

he laid hands on a fugitive, the latter collapsed ;
whereupon the policeman dropped him and took
after another. The joke of it was that the one
so abandoned did not try again to make off, but
stayed as though he had been tagged at some
game. Finally the whole lot, still vociferating,
moved off down the white road.

For over an hour we hung from our window sill,
thoroughly interested and amused by the varied
life that deployed before our eyes. The morning
seemed deliciously cool after the hot night, al-
though the thermometer stood high. The sky was
very blue, with big piled white clouds down near
the horizon. Dazzling sun shone on the white
road, the white buildings visible up and down the
street, the white walls enclosing their gardens, and
the greenery and colours of the trees within them.
For from what we could see from om* window we
immediately voted tropical vegetation quite up
to advertisement: whole trees of gaudy red or
yellow or bright orange blossoms, flowering vines,
flowering shrubs, peered over the walls or through
the fences; and behind them rose great mangoes or
the slenderer shafts of bananas and cocoanut palms.

Up and down wandered groups of various sorts
of natives. A month later we would have been
able to identify their different tribes and to know

76 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

more about them ; but now we wondered at them,
as strange and picturesque peoples. They im-
pressed us in general as being a fine lot of men, for
they were of good physique, carried themselves
well, and looked about them with a certain dignity
and independence, a fine free pride of carriage and
of step. This fact alone differentiated them from
our own negroes ; but, further, their features were
in general much finer, and their skins of a clear
mahogany beautiful in its satiny texture. Most
— and these were the blackest — wore long white
robes and fine openwork skull caps. They were
the local race, the Swahili, had we but known it ;
the original " Zanzibari " who furnished Living-
stone, Stanley, Speke, and the other early explor-
ers with their men. Others, however, were much
less " civilized." We saw one " Cook's tour from
the jungle " consisting of six savages, their hair
twisted into innumerable points, their ear lobes
stretched to hang fairly to their shoulders, wearing
only a rather neglectful blanket, adorned with
polished wire, canying war clubs and bright
spears. They followed, with eyes and mouths
open, a very sophisticated-looking city cousin
in the usual white garments, swinging a
jaunty, light bamboo cane. The cane seems
to be a distinguishing mark of the leisured class.

MOMBASA. 77

It not only means that you are not working,
but also that you have no earthly desire to work.

About this time one of the hotel boys brought
the inevitable chota-hazri — the tea and biscuits
of early morning. For this once it was very
welcome.

Our hotel proved to be on the direct line of
freighting. There are no horses or draught ani-
mals in Mombasa ; the fly is too deadly. There-
fore all hauling is done by hand. The tiny tracks
of the unique street car system run everywhere
any one would wish to go ; branching off even into
private grounds and to the very front doors of
bungalows situated f ai^ out of town. Each resident
owns his own street car, just as elsewhere a man
has his own carriage. There are, of course,
public cars also, each with its pair of boys to push
it; and also a number of rather decrepit rickshaws.
As a natural corollary to the passenger traffic, the
freighting also is handled by the blacks on large
flat trucks with short guiding poles. These men
are quite naked save for a small loin cloth ; are
beautifully shaped ; and glisten all over with
perspiration shining in the sun. So fine is the
texture of their skins, the softness of their colour —
so rippling the play of muscles — that this shining
perspiration is like a beautiful polish. They rush

78 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

from behind, slowly and steadily, and patiently
and unwaveringly, the most tremendous loads of
the heaviest stuffs. When the hill becomes too
steep for them, they turn their backs against the
truck ; and by placing one foot behind the other,
a few inches at a time, they edge their burden
up the slope.

The steering is done by one man at the pole or
tongue in front. This individual also sets the key
to the song by which in Africa all heavy labour is
carried forward. He cries his wavering shrill-
voiced chant ; the toilers utter antiphony in low
gruff tones. At a distance one hears only the
wild high syncopated chanting ; but as the affair
draws slowly nearer, he catches the undertone of
the responses. These latter are cast in the regular
swing and rhythm of effort ; but the steersman
throws in his bit at odd and irregular intervals.
Thus:

Headman (shrill) : " Hay, ah mon ! "

Pushers (gruff in rhythm) : " Tunk ! — tunk ! —
tunk !— " or :

Headman (and wavering minor chant) : " Ah
— ^nah — ^nee — e-e-e ! "

Pushers (undertone) : " Umbwa — jo-e I Um-
bwa — jo — e ! "

These wild and barbaric chantings — in the

MOMBASA. 79

distance ; near at hand ; dying into distance again
— slow, dogged, toilsome, came to be to us one of
the typical features of the place.

After breakfast we put on our sun helmets and
went forth curiously to view the town. We
found it roughly divided into four quarters —
the old Portuguese, the Arabic, the European,
and the native. The Portuguese comprises the
outer fringe next the water-front of the inner
bay. It is very narrow of street, with white-
washed walls, balconies, and wonderful carven and
studded doors. The business of the town is done
here. The Arabic quarter lies back of it — a maze
of narrow alleys winding aimlessly here and there
between high white buildings, with occasionally
the minarets and towers of a mosque. This dis-
trict harboured, besides the upper-class SwahiHs
and Arabs, a large number of East Indians.
Still back of this are thousands of the low grass,
or mud and wattle huts of the natives, their roofs
thatched with straw or palm. These are appar-
ently arranged on little system. The small
European population lives atop the sea bluffs
beyond the old fort in the most attractive bimga-
lows. This, the most desirable location of all,
has remained open to them because heretofore
the fierce wars with which Mombasa, " the

80 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Island of Blood," has been swept have made the
exposed seaward lands impossible.

No idle occupation can be more fascinating
than to wander about the mazes of this ancient
town. The variety of race and occupation is
something astoimding. Probably the one human
note that, everywhere persisting, draws the whole
together is furnished by the water-carriers.
Mombasa has no water system whatever. The
entire supply is drawn from numberless pictur-
esque wells scattered everywhere in the crowded
centre, and distributed mainly in Standard Oil
cans suspended at either end of a short pole. By
dint of constant daily exercise, hauling water up
from a depth and carrying it various distances,
these men have developed the most beautifully
powerful figures. They proceed at a half trot,
the slender poles, with forty pounds at either
end, seeming feiirly to cut into their naked shoul-
ders, muttering a word of warning to the loiterers
at every other breath — semeelay ! semeelay !
No matter in what part of Mombasa you may
happen to be, or at what hour of the day or night,
you will meet these industrious little men trotting
along under their burdens.

Everywhere also are the women, carrying
themselves proudly erect, with a free swing of

Old i'ortui'uese fort at Mombasa.

ill the Arab quarter of Mombasa.

MOMBASA. 81

the hips. They wear invariably a single sheet of
cotton cloth printed in blue or black with the
most astonishing borders and spotty designs.
This is drawn tight just above the breasts, leaving
the shoulders and arms bare. Their hair is divided
into perhaps a dozen parts running lengthwise
of the head from the forehead to the nape of the
neck, after the manner of the stripes on a water-
melon. Each part then ends in a tiny twisted
pigtail not over an inch long. The lobes of their
ears have been stretched until they hold thick
round disks about three inches in diameter,
ornamented by concentric circles of different
colours, with a red bull's eye for a centre. The
outer edges of the ears are then further decorated
with gold clasps set closely together. Many
bracelets, necklaces, and armlets complete the
get-up. They are big women, with soft velvety
skins and a proud and haughty carriage — the
counterparts of the men in the white robes and
caps.

By the way, it may be a good place here to
remark that these garments, and the patterned
squares of cloth worn by the women, are in-
variably most spotlessly clean.

These, we learned, were the Swahihs, the
ruling class, the descendants of the slave traders.

82 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Beside them are all sorts and conditions. Your
true savage pleased his own fancy as to dress and
personal adornment. The bushmen generally
shaved the edges of their wool to leave a nice
close-fitting natural skull cap, wore a single
blanket draped from one shoulder, and carried a
war club. The ear lobe seemed always to be
stretched ; sometimes sufficiently to have carried
a pint bottle. Indeed, white marmalade jars
seemed to be very popular wear. One ingenious
person had acquired a dozen of the sort of safety
pins used to fasten curtains to their rings. These
he had snapped into the lobes, six on a side.

We explored for some time. One of the
Swahilis attached himself to us so unobtrusively
that before we knew it we had accepted him as
guide. In that capacity he realized an ideal, for
he never addressed a word to us, nor did he even
stay in sight. We wandered along at our
sweet will, dawdling as slowly as we pleased.
The guide had apparently quite disappeared.
Look where we would we could in no manner
discover him. At the next comer we would
pause, undecided as to what to do ; there, in the
middle distance, would stand our friend, smiling.
When he was sure we had seen him, and were
about to take the turn properly, he would dis-

MOMBASA. 83

appear again. Convoyed in this pleasant fashion
we wound and twisted up and down and round and
about through the most appalling maze. We saw
the native markets with their vociferating sellers
seated cross-legged on tables behind piles of fruit
or vegetables, while an equally vociferating
crowd surged up and down the aisles. Gray
parrots and little monkeys perched everywhere
about. Billy gave one of the monkeys a banana.
He peeled it exactly as a man would have done,
smelt it critically, and threw it back at her
in the most insulting fashion. We saw also the
rows of Hindu shops open to the street, with
their gaudily dressed children of blackened eye-
lids, their stoHd dirty proprietors, and their
women marvellous in bright silks and massive
bangles. In the thatched native quarter were
more of the fine Swahih women sitting cross-
legged on the earth under low verandas, engaged
in different handicrafts ; and chickens ; and
many amusing naked children. We made friends
with many of them, communicating by laughter
and by signs, while our guide stood unobtrusively
in the middle distance waiting for us to come on.
Just at sunset he led us out to a great open
space, with a tall palm in the centre of it and
the gathering of a multitude of people. A

84 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

mollah was clambering into a high scaffold built
of poles, whence shortly he began to intone a
long-drawn-out " AUah ! Allah! il Allah!"
The cocoanut palms cut the sunset, and the
boabab trees — the fat, lazy boababs — looked
more monstrous than ever. We called our guide
and conferred on him the munificent sum of
sixteen and a half cents ; with which, apparently
much pleased, he departed. Then slowly we
wandered back to the hoteL

Paet II.
THE SHIMBA HILLS.

IX.

A TROPICAL JUNGLE.

MANY months later, and after adventures
elsewhere described,* besides others not
relevant for the moment, F., an Enghshman,
and I returned to Mombasa. We came from
some hundred odd miles in the interior where
we had been exploring the sources and the
course of the Tsavo River. Now our purpose was
to penetrate into the low, hot, wooded country
along the coast known as the Shimba Hills in
quest of a rare beast called the sable antelope.

These hills could be approached in one of two
ways — ^by crossing the harbour, and then march-
ing two days afoot; or by voyaging up to the
very end of one of the long arms of the sea that
extend many miles inland. The latter involved
dhows, dependence on uncertain winds, favom*-
able tides, and a heap of good luck. It was less

* "The Land of Footprints."

88 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

laborious but most uncertain. At this stage of
the plan the hotel manager came forward with
the offer of a gasoline launch, which we gladly
accepted.

We embarked about noon, storing our native
carriers and effects aboard a dhow hired for the
occasion. This we purposed towing. A very
neatly uniformed Swahili betiring on his stomach
a highly-polished brass label as big as a door
plate — " Harbour Pohce " — threw duck fists over
what he called overloading the boat. He knew
very Uttle about boats, but threw very competent
duck fists. As we did know something about
boats, we braved imknown consequences by
disregarding him utterly. No consequences en-
sued— unless perhaps to his own health. When
everything was aboard, that dhow was pretty
well down, but still well afloat. Then we white
men took our places in the laimch.

Tliis was a long narrow affair with a four-
cylinder thirty-horsepower engine. As she pos-
sessed no speed gears, she had either to plimge
ahead full speed or come to a stop ; there were
no compromises. Her steering was managed
by a tiller instead of a wheel, so that a mere
touch sufficed to swerve her ten feet from her
course. As the dhow was in no respects built

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 89

on such nervous lines, she did occasionally some
fancy and splashing curves.

The pilot of the launch turned out to be a
sandy-haired Yankee who had been catching
wild animals for Barnum and Bailey's circus.
While waiting for his ship, he, being a proverbial
handy Yankee, had taken on this job. He
became quite interested in telling us this, and at
times forgot his duties at the tiller. Then that
racing-launch would take a wild swoop ; the
clumsy old dhow astern would try vainly, with
much spray and dangerous careening, to follow ;
the compromise course would all but upset her ;
the spray would fly ; the safari boys would take
their ducking ; the boat boys would yell and
dance and lean frantically against the two long
sweeps with which they tried to steer. In this
wild and untrammelled fashion we careered up
the bay, too interested in our own performances
to pay much attention to the scenery. The low
shores, with their cocoanut groves gracefully
rising above the mangrove tangle, slipped by,
and the distant blue Shimba Hills came nearer.

After a while we turned into a narrower chan-
nel with a good many curves and a quite unknown
depth of water. Down this we whooped at the
full speed of our thirty-horsepower engine.

90 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Occasional natives, waist deep and fishing, stared
after us open-eyed. The Yankee ventured a
guess as to how hard she would hit on a mudbank.
She promptly proved his guess a rank under-
estimate by doing so. We fell in a heap on the
bottom. The dhow bore down on us with
majestic momentum. The boat boys leaned
frcmtically on their sweeps, and managed just to
avoid us. The dhow also rammed the mudbank.
A dozen reluctant boys hopped overboard
and pushed us off. We pursued our merry
way again. On either hand now appeared fish
weirs of plaited coco fibre ; which, being planted
in the shallows, helped us materially to guess at
the channel. Naked men, up to their shoulders
in the water, attended to some mysterious need
of the nets, or emerged dripping and sparkling
from the water with baskets of fish atop their
heads. The channel grew even narrower, and
the mudbanks more frequent. We dodged a
dozen in our headlong course. Our local guide,
a Swahili in tarboosh «md a beautiful saffron
robe, showed signs of strong excitement. We
were to stop, he said, around the next bend ;
and at this rate we never could stop. The
Yankee remarked, superfluously, that it would
be handy if this dod-blistered engine had a

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 91

clutch ; adding, as an afterthought, that no
matter how long he stayed in the tropics his nose
peeled. We asked what we should do if we
over-carried our prospective landing-place. He
replied that the dod-bUstered thing did have a
reverse. While thus conversing we shot around
a comer into a complete cul-de-sac ! Everything
was shut off hastily, and an instant later we
and the dhow smashed up high and dry on a
cozy mud beach ! We drew a deep breath and
looked around us.

Mangrove thicket to the edge of the slimy
ooze ; trees behind — that was all we could see.
We gave om* attention to the business of getting
our men, our effects, and ourselves ashore. The
ooze proved to be just above knee deep. The
porters had a fearful and floundering time, and
received much obvious comment from us perched
in the bow of the launch. Finally everything
was debarked. F. and I took off our boots ; but
our gunbearers expressed such horror at the
mere thought of our plunging into the mud,
that we dutifully climbed them pick-a-back and
were carried. The hard shell beach was a hundred
feet away, occupjdng a Uttle recess where the
persistent tough mangroves drew back. From
it led a narrow path through the thicket. We

92 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

waved and shouted a fareweU to the crews of the
launch and the dhow.

The path for a hundred feet was walled in by
the mangroves through which scuttled and
rattled the big land crabs. Then suddenly we
found ourselves in a story-book tropical para-
dise. The tall coco palms rose tufted above
everything ; the fans of the younger palms
waved below ; bananas thrust the banners of
their broad leaves wherever they could find space ;
creepers and vines flung the lush luxuriance of
their greenery over all the earth and into the
depths of all the half-guessed shadows. In no
direction could one see unobstructed farther
than twenty feet, except straight up ; and there
one could see just as far as the tops of the palms.
It was like being in a room — a green, hot, steamy,
lovely room. Very bright- coloured birds that
ought really to have been at home in their cages
fluttered about.

We had much vigorous clearing to do to make
room for our tents. By the time the job was fin-
ished we were all pretty hot. Several of the
boys made vain attempts to climb for nuts,
but without success. We had brought them
with us from the interior, where cocoanuts do
not grow ; and they did not understand the

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 98

method. They could swarm up the tall slim
stems all right, but could not manage to get
through the downward-pointing spikes of the
dead leaves. F. tried and failed, to the great
amusement of the men, but to the greater
amusement of myself. I was a wise person,
and lay on my back on a canvas cot, so it was
not much bother to look up and enjoy Ufe.
Not to earn absolutely the stigma of laziness,
I tried to shoot some nuts down. This did not
work either, for the soft, spongy stems closed
around the bullet holes. Then a little wizened
monkey of a SwahiH porter, having watched
our futUe performances with interest, non-
chalantly swarmed up ; in some mysterious man-
ner he wriggled through the defences, and perched
in the top, whence he dropped to us a dozen big
green nuts. Our men may not have been much
of a success at cHmbing for nuts ; but they were
passed masters at the art of opening them. Three
or four cKps from their awkward swordlike pangas,
and we were each presented with a clean, beautiful,
natural goblet brimming full of a refreshing drink.
About this time a fine figure of a man drifted
into camp. He was very smooth- skinned, very
dignified, very venerable. He was pure SwahiU,
though of the savage branch of that race, and

94 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

had none of the negro type of countenance.
In fact, so like was he in face, hair, short square
beard and genial dignity to a certain great-uncle
of mine that it was very hard to remember that
he had on only a small strip of cloth, that he
was cherishing as a great treasure a piece of
soap box he h£ul salvaged from the shore, and
that his skin was red chocolate. I felt inclined
to talk to him as to an intellectual equal, espe-
cially as he had a fine resonant bass voice
that in itself lent his remarks some importance.
However, I gave him two ordinary wood screws,
showed him how they screwed in and out, and
left him happy.

After supper the moon rose, casting shadows
of new and unknown shapes through this strangely
new and unknown forest. A thin white mist
ascending everywhere from the soil tempered
but could not obscure the white brilliance. The
thermometer stood now only at 82°, but the drip-
ping tropical sweat-bath in which our camp was
pitched considerably raised the sensible heat.
A bird with a most diabolical shrieking note
ciu'sed in the shadows. Another, a pigeon-like
creature, began softly, and continued to repeat
in diminishing energy imtil it seemed to have
run down, like a piece of clockwork.

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 95

Our way next morning led for some time
through this lovely but damp jungle. Then we
angled up the side of a hill to emerge into the
comparatively open coimtry atop what we West-
erners would call a " hog's back " — a long nar-
row spurlike ridge mounting slowly to the gen-
eral elevation of the main hills. Here were high
green bushes, with Uttle free open passages
between them, and occasionally meadow-Uke
openings running down the slopes on one side
or the other. Before us, some miles distant,
were the rounded blue hills.

We climbed steadily. It was still very early
morning, but already the day was hot. Pretty
soon we saw over the jungle to the gleaming
waters of the inlet, and then to the sea. Our
" hog's back " led us past a ridge of the hills,
and before we knew it we had been deposited in
a shallow valley three or four miles wide between
parallel ridges ; the said valley being at a con-
siderable elevation, and itself diversified with
rolling hills, ravines, meadow land, and wide
flats. On many of the ridges were scattered
cocoanut palms, and occasional mango groves,
while many smokes attested the presence of
natives.

These we found in shambas or groups of little

96 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

farms, huddled all together, with wilderness and
brush and trees, or the wide open green grass
lawn between. The houses were very large and
neat-looking. They were constructed quite in-
geniously from coco branches. Each branch
made one mat. The leaves were all brought
over to the same side of the stem, and then
plaited. The resulting mat was then six or
seven feet long by from twelve to sixteen inches
broad, and could be used for a variety of pur-
poses. Indeed, we found Melville's chapter in
" Typhee " as to the various uses of the cocoa-
nut psdm by no means exaggerated. The nuts,
leaves, and fibre suppUed every conceivable
human want.

The natives were a pleasant, friendly, good-
looking lot. In fact, so like was their cast of
countensmce to that of the white- skinned people
we were accustomed to see that we had great
dij95culty in realizing that they were mere sav-
ages, costiune — or lack of it — to the contrary
notwithstanding. Under a huge mango tree two
were engaged in dividing a sheep. Sixty or
seventy others stood solemnly around watching.
It may have been a religious ceremony, for all I
know ; but the affair looked to be about two
parts business to sixty of idle and cheerful curi-

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 97

osity. We stopped and talked to them a little,
chaffed the pretty girls — they were really pretty
— and marched on.

About noon om* elegant guide stopped, struck
an attitude, and pointed with his silver-headed
rattan cane.

" This," said he, " is where we must camp."

We marched through a little village. A
family party sat beneath the veranda of a fine
building — a very old wrinkled couple ; two
stalwart beautiful youths ; a young mother
suckling her baby ; two yoimg girls ; and eight
or ten miscellaneous and naked youngsters. As
the rest of the village appeared to be empty, I
imagined this to be the caretaker's family, and
the youngsters to belong to others. We stopped
and spoke, were answered cheerfully, suggested
that we might like to buy chickens, and offered
a price. Instantly with a whoop of joy the lot
of them were afoot. The fowl waited for no
further intimations of troublous times, but
fled squawking. They had been there before.
So had our hosts ; for inside a minute they had
returned, each with a chicken — and a broad grin.

After due payment we proceeded on a few
hundred yards, and pitched camp beneath two
huge mango trees.

96 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Besides furnishing one of the most delicious of
the tropical fruits, the mango is also one of the
most beautiful of trees. It is tall, spreads very
wide, and its branches sweep to within ten feet
of the ground. Its perfect synunetry combined
with the size and deep green of its leaves causes
it to resemble, from a short distance, a beautiful
green hill. Beneath its umbrella one finds dense
shade, unmottled by a single ray of simlight, so
that one can lie under it in full confidence.
For, parenthetically, even a single ray of this
tropical sunlight is to the unprotected a very
dangerous thing. But the leaves of the mango
have this peculiarity, which distinguishes it from
all other trees — namely, that they grow only at
the very ends of the small twigs and branches.
As these, of course, grow only at the ends of the
big limbs, it follows that from beneath the
mango looks like a lofty green dome, a veritable
pantheon of the forest.

We made our camp under one of these trees ;
gave ourselves all the space we could use ; and
had plenty left over — five tents and a cook camp,
with no crowding. It was one of the pleasantest
camps I ever saw. Our green dome overhead
protected us absolutely from the sun ; high
sweet grass grew all about us ; the breeze wan-

A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 99

dered lazily up from the distemt Lidian Ocean.
Directly before our tent door the slope fell
gently away through a sparse cocoanut grove
whose straight stems panelled our view, then
rose again to the clear-cut outline of a straight
ridge opposite. The crest of this was sentinelled
by tall scattered cocoanut trees, the " biu'sting
star " pyrotechnic effect of their tops being
particularly fine against the sky.

After a five hours' tropical march uphill we
were glad to sit imder our green dome, to look
at our view, to enjoy the little breeze, and to
drink some of the cocoanuts our friends the vil-
lagers brought in.

THE SABLE.

ABOUT three o'clock I began to feel rested
^^ and ambitious. Therefore I called up our
elegant guide and Memba Sasa, and set out on
my first hunt for sable. F. was rather more done
up by the hard morning, and so did not go
along. The guide wore still his red tarboosh, his
dark short jacket, his saffron yellow nether gai-
ment — it was not exactly a skirt — and his silver-
headed rattan cane. The only change he made
was to tuck up the skirt, leaving his long legs
bare. It hardly seemed altogether a suitable cos-
tujne for hunting ; but he seemed to know what
he was about.

We marched along ridges, and down into
ravines, and across gulleys choked with brush.
Horrible thickets fdtemated with and occasionally
surrounded open green meadows hanging against
the side hills. As we proceeded, the country be-

THE SABLE. 101

came rougher, the ravines more precipitous. We
struggled up steep hills, fairly bucking our way
through low growth that proved all but impene-
trable. The idea was to find a sable feeding in
one of the little open glades ; but whenever I
allowed myself to think of the many adverse
elements of the game, the chances seemed very
slim. It took a half-hour to get from one glade
to the next; there were thousands of glades. The
sable is a rare shy animal that likes dense cover
fuUy as well if not better than the open. Sheer
rank bull luck alone seemed the only hope.
And as I felt my strength going in that vicious
struggle against heavy brush and steep hills, I
began to have very strong doubts indeed as to
that sable.

For it was cruel, hard work. In this climate
one hailed a car or a rickshaw to do an errand
two streets away, and considered oneself quite a
hero if one took a leisurely two-mile stroll along
the cliff heads at sunset. Here I was, after a five-
hour uphill march, bucking into brush and
through country that would be considered diffi-
cult going even in Canada. At the end of twenty
minutes my every garment was not wringing but
dripping wet, so that when I carried my rifle
over my arm water ran down the barrel and off

1(» AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

the muzzle in a steady stream. After a bit of
this my knees began to weaken ; and it became
a question of saving energy, of getting along some-
how, and of leaving the actual hunting to Memba
Sasa and the guide. If they had shown me a
sable, I very much doubt if I could have hit it.

However, we did not see one, and I staggered
into camp at dusk pretty well exhausted. From
the most grateful hot bath and clean clothes I
derived much refreshment. Shortly I was sitting
in my cfmvas chair, sipping a cocoanut, and de-
scribing the condition of affairs to F., who was
naturally very curious as to how the trick was
done.

" Now," I concluded, " I know just about
what I can and what I cannot do. Three days
more of this sort of work will feed me up. If we
do not run across a sable in that time, I'm afraid
we don't get any."

" Two days will do for me," said he.

We called up the guide and questioned him
closely. He seemed quite confident ; 8uid as-
serted that in this country sable were found,
when they were found at all, which was not
often. They must be discovered in the small
grassy openings. We began to understand why
so very few people get sable.

THE SABLE. 103

We dismissed the guide, and sat quietly smok-
ing in the warm soft evening. The air was abso-
lutely still save for various night insects and
birds, and the weird calling of natives across the
valleys. Far out towards the sea a thunderstorm
flashed ; and after a long interval the rumblings
came to us. So very distant was it that we paid
it Httle attention, save as an interesting back-
ground to oiu" own still evening. Almost be-
tween sentences of our slow conversation, how-
ever, it rushed up to the zenith, blotting out the
st£irs. The tall palms began to sway and rustle
in the forenmning breeze. Then with a swoop
it was upon us, a tempest of fury. We turned
in ; and all night long the heavy deluges of rain
fell, roaring like surf on an unfriendly coast.

By morning this had fallen to a light, steady
drizzle in which we started off quite happily. In
this cHmate one Hkes to get wet. The groimd
was sodden and deep with muck. Within a mile
of camp we saw many fresh buffalo tracks.

This time we went downhill and still downhill
through openings among batches of great forest
trees. The new leaves were just coming out
in pinks and russets, so that the effect at a
Uttle distance was almost precisely that of our
autumn foliage in its duller phases. So familiar

104 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

were made some of the low rounded knolls
that for an instant we were respectively back in
the hills of Surrey or Michigan, and told each
other so.

Thus we moved slowly out from the dense cover
to the grass openings. Far over on another ridge
F. called my attention to something jet-black
and indeterminate. In another country I should
have named it as a charred log on an old pine
burning, for that was precisely what it looked
like. We glanced at it casually through our
glasses. It w£is a sable buck lying down right
out in the open. He was black and sleek, and
we could make out his sweeping scimitar horns.

Memba Sasa and the Swahili dropped flat on
their faces while F. and I crawled slowly and
cautiously through the mud imtil we had gained
the cover of a shallow ravine that ran in the
beast's general direction. Noting carefully a
certain small thicket £is landmark, we stooped
and moved as fast as we could down to that point
of vantage. There we cautiously parted the
grasses and looked. The sable had disappeared.
The place where he had been lying was plainly to
be identified, and there was no cover save a tiny
bush between two and three feet high. We were
quite certain he had neither seen nor winded us.

The Sable.

THE SABLE. 105

Either he had risen and fled forward into the
ravine up which we had made our stalk, or else
he had entered the small thicket. F. agreed to
stay on watch where he was, while I shpped back
and examined the earth to leeward of the thicket.

I had hardly crawled ten yards, however, be-
fore the gentle snapping of F.'s fingers recalled
me to his side.

" He's behind that bush," he whispered in my
ear.

I looked. The bush was hardly large enough
to conceal a setter dog, and the sable is some-
what larger than our elk. Nevertheless F. in-
sisted that the animal was standing behind it,
and that he had caught the toss of its head. We
lay still for some time, while the soft, warm rain
drizzled down on us, our eyes riveted on the
bush. And then we caught the momentary
flash of curved horns as the sable tossed his
head. It seemed incredible even then that the
tiny bush should conceal so large a beast. As a
matter of fact we later found that the bush grew
on a slight elevation, behind which was a de-
pression. In this the sable stood, patiently en-
during the drizzle.

We waited some time in hopes he would move

forward a foot or so ; but apparently he had

4a

106 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

selected his loafing place with care, and liked it.
The danger of a shift of wind was always present.
Finally I slipped back over the brink of the
ravine, moved three yards to the left, and crawled
up through the tall dripping grass to a new
position behind a little bush. Cautiously raising
ray head, I found I could see plainly the sable's
head and part of his shoulders. My position
was cramped and out of balance for offliand
shooting ; but I did my best, and heard the
loud plunk of the hit. The sable made off at
a fast though rather awkward gallop, wheeled for
an instant a hundred yards farther on, received
another bullet in the shoulder, and disappeared
over the brow of the hill. We raced over the
top to get in another shot, and found him stone
dead.

He was a fine beast, jet-black in coat, with
white markings on the face, red-brown ears, and
horns sweeping up cmd back scimitar fashion. He
stood four feet and six inches at the shoulder,
and his horns were the second best ever shot in
British East Africa. This beast has been de-
scribed by Heller as a new subspecies, and named
Rooseveltii. His description was based upon
an immature buck and a doe shot by Kermit
Roosevelt. The determination of subspecies on

THE SABLE. 107

so slight evidence seems to me miseientific in the
extreme. While the immature males do exhibit
the general brown tone mainly relied on by Mr.
Heller, the mature buck differs in no essential
from the tjrpical sable. I find the alleged sub-
species is not accepted by European scientists.

XI.

A MARCH ALONG THE COAST.

WITH a most comfortable feeling that my
task was done, that suddenly the threat-
ening clouds of killing work had been cleared
up, I was now privileged to loaf £ind invite
my soul on this tropical green hilltop while poor
F. put in the days trying to find another sable.
Every morning he started out before daylight.
I could see the light of his lantern outside the
tent ; and I stretched myself in the luxurious con-
sciousness that I should hear no deprecating but
insistent " hodie " from my boy until I pleased
to invite it. In the afternoon or evening F.
would return, quite exhausted and dripping,
with only the report of new coimtry traversed.
No sable ; no tracks of sable ; no old signs, even,
of sable. Gradually it was borne in on me how
lucky I was to have come upon my magnificent

A MARCH ALONG THE COAST. 109

specimen so promptly and in such favom-able cir-
cumstances.

A leisurely breakfast alone, with the sun climb-
ing ; then the writing of notes, a Httle reading,
and perhaps a stroll to the village or along the
top of the ridge. At the heat of noon a siesta
with a cool cocoanut at my elbow. The view
was beautiful on all sides ; our great tree full
of birds ; the rising and dying winds in the palms
like the gathering oncoming rush of the rains.
From mountain to mountain sounded the wild,
far-carrying ululations of the natives, conveying
news or messages across the wide jungle. Towards
simset I wandered out in the groves, enjoying the
many bright flowers, the tall, sweet grasses, and
the cocoa-palms against the sky. Piles of cocoa-
nuts lay on the groimd, covered each with a
leaf plaited in a peculiarly individual manner to
indicate ownership. Small boys, like Httle black
imps, clung naked halfway up the sHm trunks of
the palms, watching me bright- eyed above the
undergrowth. In all directions, crossing and re-
crossing, ran a maze of beaten paths. Each led
somewhere, but it would require the memory of
— well, of a native, to keep all their destinations
in mind.

I used to foUow some of them to their ending

110 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

in little cocoa-leaf houses on the tops of knolls or
beneath mangoes; and would talk with the people.
They were very grave and very polite, and seemed
to be living out their lives quite correctly ac-
cording to their conceptions. Again, it was borne
in on me that these people are not stumbling
along the course of evolution in our footsteps, but
have gone as far in their path as we have in
ours ; that they have reached at least as com-
plete a correspondence with their environment
as we with our own.*

If F. had not returned by the time I reached
camp, I would seat myself in my canvas chair,
and thence dispense justice, advice, or mediced
treatment. If none of these things seemed de-
manded, I smoked my pipe. To me one after-
noon came a big-framed, old, dignified man,
with the heavy beard, the noble features, the
high forehead, £uid the blank statue eyes of the
blind Homer. He was led by a very small, very
bright-eyed naked boy. At some twenty feet
distance he squatted down cross-legged before
me. For quite five minutes he sat there silent,
while I sat in my camp chair, smoked and
waited. At last he spoke in a rolling deep bass
voice rich and vibrating — a delight to hear.

* For a fuller diacossion, see " The Land of FootprintB."

A MARCH ALONG THE COAST. Ill

" Jambo (greeting) ! " said he.

" Jambo ! " I replied mildly.

Again a j&ve-minute silence. I had begun
reading, and had all but forgotten his pres-
ence.

" Jambo bwana (greeting, master) ! " he rolled
out.

" Jambo ! " I repeated.

The same dignified, unhasting pause.

" Jambo bwana m'kubwa (greeting, great mas-
ter) ! "

" Jambo ! " quoth I, and went on reading. The
sun was dropping, but the old man seemed in
no hurry.

" Jambo bwana m'kubwa sana (greeting, most
mighty master) ! " he boomed at last.

" Jambo ! " said I.

This would seem to strike the superlative, and
I expected now that he would state his busi-
ness, but the old man had one more shot in his
locker.

" Jambo bwana m'kubwa kabeesa sana (greet-
ing, mightiest possible master) ! " it came.

Then in due course he delicately hinted that a
gift of tobacco would not come amiss.

F. returned a trifle earlier than usual, to admit
that his quest was hopeless, that his physical

112 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

forces were for the time being at an end, and
that he was willing to go home.

Accordingly very early next morning we set
out by the glimmer of a lantern, hoping to get a
good start on our journey before the heat of the
day became too severe. We did gain something,
but performed several unnecessary loops and semi-
circles in the maze of beaten paths before we
finally struck into one that led down the slope
towards the sea. Shortly after the dawn came up
" like thunder " in its swiftness, followed almost
immediately by the sun.

Our way now led along the wide flat between
the seashore and the Shimba Hills, in which we
had been himting. A road ten feet wide and
innocent of wheels ran with obstinate directness
up and down the slight contours and through
the bushes and cocoanut groves that lay in its
path. So mathematically straight was it that
only when perspective closed it in, or when it
dropped over the summit of a little rise, did the
eye lose the effect of its interminability. The
country through which this road led was various
— open bushy veld with sparse trees, dense
jungle, cocoanut groves, tall and cool. In the
shadows of the latter were the thatched native
villages. To the left always ran the blue Shimba

A MARCH ALONG THE COAST. 113

Hills ; and far away to the right somewhere we
heard the grumbh'ng of the sea.

Every hundred yards or so we met somebody.
Even thus early the road was thronged. By far
the majority were the almost naked natives of the
district, pleasant, brown- skinned people with good
features. They carried things. These things
varied from great loads balanced atop to dainty
impromptu baskets woven of cocoa-leaves and
containing each a single cocoanut. They smiled
on us, returned our greeting, and stood com-
pletely aside to let us pass. Other wayfarers
were of more importance. SmaU groups of
bearded dignitaries, either upper-class SwahiH or
pure Arabs, stroUed slowly along, apparently with
limitless leisure, but evidently bound somewhere,
nevertheless. They repHed to our greetings with
great dignity. Once, also, we overtook a small
detachment of Sudanese troops moving. They
were scattered over several miles of road. A
soldier, most impressive and neat in khaki and
red tarboosh and sash ; then two or three of his
laughing, sleek women, clad in the thin, patterned
" 'Mericani," ghttering with gold ornaments ;
then a half dozen ragged porters carrying official
but battered painted wooden kit boxes, or bags,
or miscellaneous curious plunder ; then more

114 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

troopers ; and so on for miles. They aU drew
aside for us most respectfully ; and the soldiers
saluted, very smart and military.

Under the broad-spreading mangoes near the
villages we came upon many open markets in
full swing. Each vendor squatted on his heels
behind his wares, while the purchasers or traders
wandered here and there making offers. The
actual commerce compared with the amount of
laughing, joking, shrieking joy of the occasion
as one to a thousand.

Generally three or four degenerate looking
dirty East Indians slunk about, very crafty,
very insinuating, very ready and skilful to take
what advantages they could. I felt a strong
desire to kick every one of them out from these
joyful concourses of happy people. Generally we
sat down for a while in these markets, and talked
to the people a little, and perhaps purchased some
of the delicious fruit. They had a small delicate
variety of banana, most wonderful, the like of
which I have seen nowhere else. We bought
forty of these for a coin worth about eight cents.
Besides fruit they offered cocoa-nuts in all forms,
grain, woven baskets, small articles of handi-
craft— and fish. The latter were farther from
the sea than they should have been ! These

I A MARCH ALONG THE COAST. 115

occasional halts greatly refreshed us for more of
that endless road.

For all this time we were very hot. As the
Sim momited, the comitry fairly steamed. From
the end of my rifle barrel, which I carried across
my forearm, a steady trickle of water dripped
iato the road. We neither of us had a dry stitch
on us, and our light garments clung to us thor-
oughly wet through. At first we tried the mili-
tary method, and marched fifty minutes to rest
ten, but soon discovered that twenty-five minutes'
work to five minutes off was more practical. The
sheer weight of the sun was terrific ; after we
had been exposed to it for any great length of
time — ^as across several wide open spaces — we
entered the steaming shade of the jungle with
gratitude. At the end of seven hoiKs, however,
we most unexpectedly came through a dense
cocoanut grove plump on the banks of the har-
bour at Kilindini.

Here, after making arrangements for the trans-
port of our safari, when it should arrive, we en-
trusted ourselves to a small boy and a cranky
boat. An hour later, clad in tropical white, with
cool drinks at our elbows, we sat in easy-chairs on
the veranda of the Mombasa Club.

The clubhouse is built on a low cliff at the

116 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

water's edge. It looks across the blue waters of
the bay to a headland crowned with cocoa-palms,
and beyond the headland to the Indian Ocean.
The cool trades sweep across that veranda. We
idly watched a lone white oarsman pulling strongly
against the wind through the tide rips, evidently
bent on exercise. We speculated on the incredible
folly of wanting exercise ; and forgot him. An
hour later a huge saffron yellow squedl rose from
China 'cross the way, filled the world with an
unholy light, lashed the reluctant sea to white-
caps, and swooped screaming on the cocoa-
palms. Police boats to rescue the^idiot oarsman !
Much minor excitement I Great rushing to and
fro I We continued to sit in our lounging chairs,
one hand on our cool long drinks.

XII.
THE FIRE.

WE were very tired, so we turned in early.
Unfortunately, our rooms were immedi-
ately over the billiard room, where a bibulous and
cosmopoHtan lot were earnestly endeavouring to
bolster up by further proof the fiction that a white
man cannot retain his health in the tropics. The
process was pretty rackety, and while it could
not keep us awake, it prevented us from falling
thoroughly asleep. At length, and suddenly, the
props of noise fell away from me, and I sank
into a grateful, profound abyss.

Almost at once, however, I was dragged back
to consciousness. Mohammed stood at my bed-
side.

" Bwana," he proffered to my rather angry in-
quiry, " all the people have gone to the fire. It
is a very large fire. I thought you would like
to see it."

118 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

I glanced out of the window at the reddening
sky, thrust my feet into a pair of slippers, and
went forth in my pyjamas to see what I could see.

We threaded our way through many narrow
dark and deserted streets, beneath balconies that
overhung, past walls over which nodded tufted
palms, until a loud and increasing murmuring
told us we were nearing the centre of disturbance.
Shortly, we came to the outskirts of the excited
crowd, and beyond them saw the red furnace glow.

" Semeelay ! Semeelay ! " warned Mohtimmed
authoritatively ; and the bystanders, seeing a
white face, gave me passage.

All of picturesque Mombasa was afoot —
Arabs, SwahiUs, Somalia, savages, Indians — the
whole lot. They moved restlessly in the narrow
streets ; they hirng over the edges of balconies ;
they peered from barred windows ; interested
dark faces turned up everywhere in the flickering
light. One woman, a fine, erect, bibUcal figure,
stood silhouetted on a flat housetop and screamed
steadily. I thought she must have at least one
baby in the fire, but it seems she was only ex-
cited.

The fire was at present confined to two build-
ings, in which it was raging fiercely. Its spread,
however, seemed certfiin; and, as it was sur-

THE FIRE. 119

rounded by warehouses of valuable goods, moving
was in full swing. A frantic white man stood at
the low doorway of one of these dungeon-like stores
hastening the movements of an unending string of
porters. As each emerged bearing a case on his
shoulder, the white man urged him to a trot. I
followed up the street to see where these valuables
were being taken, and what were the precautions
against theft. Around the next comer, it seemed.
As each excited perspiring porter trotted up, he
heaved his burden from his head or his shoulders,
and promptly scampered back for another load.
They were loyal and zealous men ; but their
headpieces were deficient inside. For the bur-
dens that they saved from the fire happened to be
cases of gin in bottles. At least, it was in bottles
until the process of saving had been completed.
Then it trickled merrily down the gutter. I went
back and told the frantic white man about it. He
threw up both hands to heaven and departed.

By dodging from street to street Mohammed and
I succeeded in circling the whole disturbance, and
so came at length to a public square. Here was
a vast throng, and a very good place, so I climbed
atop a rescued bale of cotton the better to see.

Mombasa has no water system, but a wonderful
corps of water-carriers. These were in requisi-

120 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

tion to a man. They disappeared down through
the wide gates of the customs enclosiwe, their
naked, muscular, light-brown bodies gleaming
with sweat, their Standard Oil cans dangling
merrily at the ends of slender poles. A moment
later they emerged, the cans full of salt water
from the bay, the poles seeming fairly to butt
into their bare shoulders as they teetered along
at their rapid, swaying, burdened gait.

The moment they entered the square they
were seized upon from a dozen different sides.
There was no system at all. Every owner of
property was out for himself, and intended to
get as much of the precious water as he could.
The poor carriers were pulled about, jerked vio-
lently here and there, besought, conmianded, to
bring their loads to one or the other of the threat-
ened premises. Vociferations, accusations, com-
mands arose to screams. One old graybeard occu-
pied himself by standing on tiptoe and screeching,
" Maji ! maji ! maji ! " at the top of his voice, as
though that added anything to the visible supply.
The water-carrier of the moment disappeared in
a swirl of excited contestants. He was attending
strictly to business, looking neither to right
nor to left, pushing forward as steadily as he
could, gasping mechanically his customary warn-

THE FIRE. 121

ing, " Semeelay ! Semeelay ! " Somehow, event-
ually, he and his comrades must have got some-
where ; for after an interval he returned with
empty buckets. Then every blessed fool of a
property owner took a whack at his bare shoid-
ders as he passed, shrieking hysterically, " Haya !
haya ! pesi ! pesi ! " and the like to men already
doing their best. It was a grand sight !

In the meantime the fire itself was roaring
away. The old graybeard suddenly ceased cry-
ing " maji," and darted forward to where I stood
on the bale of cotton. With great but somewhat
flurried respect he begged me to descend. I did
so, somewhat curious as to what he might be up
to, for the cotton was at least two himdred feet
from the fire. Immediately he began to tug and
heave ; the bale was almost beyond his strength ;
but after incredible exertions he lifted one side
of it, poised it for a moment, got his shoulder
under it, and rolled it over once. Then he darted
away and resumed his raucous cry for water.
I climbed back again. Thrice more, at intervals,
he repeated this performance. The only result
was to daub with mud every possible side of that
bale. I hope it was his property.

You must remember that I was observing the
heavy artillery of the attack on the conflagra-

122 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

tion. Individual campaigns were everywhere in
progress. I saw one man standing on the roof
of a threatened building. He lowered slowly,
hand over hand, a small tea-kettle at the end of
a string. This was filled by a friend in the street,
whereupon the man hauled it up again, slowly,
hand over hand, and solemnly dashed its con-
tents into the mouth of the furnace. Thousands
of other men on roofs, in balconies, on the street,
were doing the same thing. Some had ordinary
cups which they filled a block away ! The limit
of efficiency was a pail. Nobody did anything
in concert with cmybody else. The sight of these
thousands of little midgets each with his teacup,
or his teapot, or his tin pail, throwing each his
mite of water — for which he had to walk a street
or so — into the ravening roaring furnace of flame
was as pathetic or as comical as you please.
They did not seem to have a show in the
world.

Nevertheless, to my vast surprise, the old
system of the East triumphed at last. The system
of the East is that if you get enough labour you
can accomplish anything. Little by little those
thousands of tea kettles of water had their aggre-
gate effect. The flames fed themselves out and
died down leaving the contiguous buildings un-

THE FIRE. 123

harmed save for a little scorching. In two hours
all was safe, and I returned to the hotel, having
enjoyed myself hugely. I had, however, in the
interest and excitement, forgotten how deadly is
the fever of Mombasa. Midnight in pyjamas did
the business ; and shortly I paid well for the fun.

Paet III.
NAIROBI.

xm.

UP FROM THE COAST.

NAIROBI is situated at the far edge of the
great Athi Plains and just below a range
of hills. It might about as well have been any-
where else, and perhaps better a few miles back
in the higher country. Whether the funny Uttle
narrow-gauge railroad exists for Nairobi, or
Nairobi for the railroad, it would be difficult to
say. Between Mombasa and this interior placed-
to-order town, certainly, there is nothing, abso-
lutely nothing, either in passengers or freight, to
justify building the line. That distance is, if I
remember it correctly, about three hundred and
twenty miles. A dozen or so names of stations
appear on the map. These are water tanks, tele-
graph stations, or small groups of tents in which
dwell black labourers — on the railroad.

The way climbs out from the tropical steaming
coast belt to and across the high scrub desert,

128 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and then tlirough lower rounded hills to the plains.
On the desert is only dense thorn brush — and a
possibility that the newcomer, if he looks very
closely, may to his excitement see his first
game in Africa. This is a stray duiker or so,
tiny grass antelopes a foot high. Also in this
land is thirst ; so that alongside the locomotives,
as they struggle up grade, in bad seasons, run
natives to catch precious drops.* An impalpable
red dust sifts through and into ever3rthing. When
a man descends at Voi for dinner he finds his fel-
low-travellers have changed complexion. The pale
clerk from indoor Mombasa has put on a fine
healthy sunburn ; and the company in general
present a rich out-of-doors bloom. A chance dab
with a white napkin comes away like fresh paint,
however.

You clamber back into the compartment, with
its latticed sun shades and its smoked glass
windows ; you let down the narrow canvas
bunk ; you imf old your rug, and settle yourself
for repose. It is a difficult matter. Everything
you touch is gritty. The air is close and stifling,
like the smoke-charged air of a tunnel. If you
try to open a window you are suffocated with
more of the red dust. At last you fall into a

• The Govemment does much nowadays by means of tank cars.

UP FROM THE COAST. 129

doze ; to awaken nearly frozen ! The train has
cUmbed into what is, after weeks of the tropics,
comparative cold ; and if you have not been
warned to carry wraps, you are in danger of pneu-
monia.

The gray dawn comes, and shortly, in the sud-
den tropical fashion, the full light. You look
out on a wide smiling grass country, with dips
and swales, and brushy river bottoms, and long
slopes and hills thrusting up in masses from
down below the horizon, and singly here and
there in the immensities nearer at hand. The
train winds and doubles on itself up the gentle
slopes and across the imperceptibly rising plains.
But the interest is not in these wide prospects,
beautiful and smiling as they may be, but in the
game. It is everywhere. Far in the distance
the herds twinkle, half guessed in the shimmer of
the bottom lands or dotting the sides of the hills.
Nearer at hand it stares as the train rumbles and
sways laboriously past. Occasionally it even be-
comes necessary to whistle aside some impertinent
kongoni that has placed himself between the
metals ! The newcomer has but a theoretical
knowledge at best of all these animals ; and he is
intensely interested in identifying the various
species. The hartebeeste and the wildebeeste he

130 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

learns quickly enough, and of course the zebra
and the giraffe are unmistakable ; but the
smaller gazelles are legitimate subjects for dis-
cussion. The wonder of the extraordinary abun-
dance of these wild animals mounts as the hours
slip by. At the stops for water or for orders the
passengers gather from their different compart-
ments to detail excitedly to each other what they
have seen. There is always an honest super-
enthusiast who believes he has seen rhinoceroses,
lions, or leopards. He is looked upon with envy
by the credulous, and with exasperation by all
others.

So the little train puffs and tugs along. Sud-
denly it happens on a barbed wire fence, and
immediately after enters the town of Nairobi.
The game has persisted right up to that barbed
wire fence.

The station platform is thronged with a hetero-
geneous multitude of people. The hands of a
dozen raggetty black boys are stretched out for
luggage. The newcomer sees with delight a sav-
age with a tin can in his stretched ear lobe ; an-
other with a set of wooden skewers set fanwise
around the edge of the ear ; he catches a glimpse
of a beautiful naked creature very proud, very dec-
orated with beads and heavy polished wire. Then

UP FROM THE COAST. 131

he is ravished away by the friend, or agent, or
hotel representative who has met him, and hm*-
ried out through the gates between the impassive
and dignified Sikh sentries to the cab. I be-
Heve nobody but the newcomer ever rides in the
cab ; and then but once, from the station to
the hotel. After that he uses rickshaws. In
fact it is probable that the cab is maintained
for the sole purpose of giving the newcomer a
grand and impressive entrance. This brief fleet-
ing quarter hour of glory is unique and passes.
It is like crossing the Line, or the first kiss, some-
thing that in its nature cannot be repeated.

The cab was once a noble vehicle, com-
pounded of opulent curves, with a very high
driver's box in front, a little let-down bench,
and a deep, luxurious, shell-shaped back seat,
reclining in which one received the adulation of
the populace. That was in its youth. Now in
its age the varnish is gone ; the upholstery of the
back seat frayed ; the upholstery of the small
seat lacking utterly, so that one sits on bare
boards. In place of two dignifiedly spirited fat
white horses, it is drawn by two very small mules
in a semi-detached position far ahead. And how
it rattles !

Between the station and the hotel at Nairobi

182 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

is a long straight wide well-made street, nearly a
mile long, and bordered by a double row of young
eucalyptus. These latter have changed the main
street of Nairobi from the sunbaked array of gal-
vanized houses described by travellers of a half
dozen years back to a thoroughfare of great
charm. The iron houses and stores are now in a
shaded background ; and the attention is freed
to concentrate on the vivid colouring, the inces-
sant movement, the great interest of the people
moving to and fro. When I left Nairobi the
authorities were considering the removal of these
trees, because one row of them had been planted
slightly within the legal limits of the street.
What they could interfere with in a practically
horseless town I cannot imagine, but I trust this
stupidity gave way to second thought.

The cab rattles and careers up the length of
the street, scattering rickshaws and pedestrians
from before its triumphant path. To the left
opens a wide street of little booths under iron
awnings, hung with gay colour and ghttering
things. The street is thronged from side to side
with natives of all sorts. It whirls past, and
shortly after the cab dashes inside a fence and
draws up before the low stone-built, wide-veran-
dahed hotel.

XIV.
A TOWN OF CONTRASTS.

IT has been, as I have said, the fashion to
speak of Nairobi as an ugly little town.
This was probably true when the first corrugated
iron houses huddled unrelieved near the railway
station. It is not true now. The lower part of
town is well planted, and is always picturesque
as long as its people are astir. The white popu-
lation have built in the wooded hills some charm-
ing bungalows surroimded by bright flowers or
lost amid the trunks of great trees. From the
heights on which is Government House one can,
with a glass, watch the game herds feeding
on the plains. Two clubs, with the usual
games of golf, polo, tennis — especially tennis —
football and cricket ; a weekly hunt, with jack-
als instead of foxes ; a bungalow town club on
the slope of a hill ; an electric light system ; a
race track ; a rifle range ; frilly parasols and the

134 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

latest fluffiest summer toilettes from Ix)ndon and
Paris — I mention a few of the refinements of
civilization that offer to the traveller some of the
most piquant of contrasts.

For it must not be forgotten that Nairobi, in
spite of these things — due to the direct but
slender thread of conmiunication by railroad
and ships — is actually in the middle of an African
wilderness — is a black man's town, as far as
numbers go.*

The game feeds to its very outskirts, even
wanders into the streets at night.f Lions may
be heard roaring within a mile or so of town ;
and leopards occasionally at night come on the
verandas of the outlying dwellings. Naked sav-
ages from the jimgle untouched by civilization in
even the minutest particular wander the streets
unabashed.

It is this constantly recurring, sharply drawn
contrast that gives Naiirobi its piquant charm.
As one sits on the broad hotel veranda a con-
stantly varied pageant passes before him. A
daintily dressed, fresh-faced Englishwoman bobs
by in a smart rickshaw drawn by two uniformed

• Fifteen hundred whites to twelve thousand natives, approxi-
mately,
t This happened twice while I was in the country.

A TOWN OF CONTRASTS. 135

runners ; a Kikuyii, anointed, curled, naked,
brass adorned, teeters along, an expression of
satisfaction on his face ; a horseman, well
appointed, trots briskly by followed by his
loping syce ; a string of skin-clad women, their
heads fantastically shaved, heavily ornamented,
lean forward under the burden of firewood for
the market ; a beautiful baby in a frilled peram-
bulator is propelled by a tall, solemn, fine-looking
black man in white robe and cap ; the driver of
a high cart tools his animal past a creaking,
cliunsy, two-wheeled wagon drawn by a pair of
small humpbacked native oxen. And so it goes,
all day long, without end. The public rickshaw
boys just across the way chatter and game and
quarrel and keep a watchful eye out for a possible
patron on whom to charge vociferously and full
tilt. Two or three old-timers with white whiskers
and red faces continue to slaughter thousands
and thousands and thousands of Uons from the
depths of their easy chairs.

The stone veranda of that hotel is a very
interesting place. Here gather men from all
parts of East Africa, from Uganda, and the
jungles of the Upper Congo. At one time or
another all the famous hunters drop into its
canvas chairs — Cxmninghame, Allan Black, Judd,

186 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Outram, Hoey, and the others ; white traders
with the natives of distant lands ; owners of
farms experimenting bravely on a greater or lesser
scale in a land whose difficulties are just beginning
to be understood ; great naturalists and scien-
tists from the governments of the earth, eager
to observe and collect this interesting and
teeming fauna ; and sportsmen just out and
full of interest, or just returned and modestly
important. More absorbing conversation can
be listened to on this veranda than in any other
one place in the world. The gathering is cos-
mopoUtan ; it is representative of the most active
of every social, political, and racial element ; it
has done things ; it contemplates vital problems
from the vantage ground of experience. The
talk veers from pole to pole — and returns always
to lions.

Every little while a native — a raw savage —
comes along and takes up a stand just outside
the railing. He stands there mute and patient
for five minutes — a half hour — until some one,
any one, happens to notice him.

" N'jo ! — come here ! " commands this person.

The savage silently proffers a bit of paper on
which is written the name of the one with whom
he has business.

A TOWN OF CONTRASTS. 137

" Nenda officie ! " indicates the charitable
person waving his hand towards the hotel office.

Then, and not until this permission has been
given by some one, dares the savage cross the
threshold to do his errand.

If the messenger happens to be a trained
houseboy, however, dressed in his uniform of
khaki or his more picturesque white robe and
cap, he is privileged to work out his own salvation.
And behind the hotel are rows and rows of other
boys, each waiting patiently the pleasure of his
especial bwana lounging at ease after strenuous
days. At the drawling shout of " boy ! " one
of them instantly departs to find out which
particular boy is wanted.

The moment any white man walks to the edge
of the veranda a half-dozen of the rickshaws
across the street career madly around the comers
of the fence, bumping, colliding, careening dan-
gerously, to drop beseechingly in serried con-
fusion close around the step. The rickshaw
habit is very strong in Nairobi. If a man wants
to go a hundred yards down the street he takes
a rickshaw for that stupendous journey. There
is in justification the legend that the white man
should not exert himself in the tropics. I fell

into the custom of the country imtil I reflected

5 a

138 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

that it would hardly be more fatal to me to walk
a half-hour in the streets of Nairobi than to
march six or seven hours — as I often did — when
on safari or in the hunting field. After that I
got a little exercise, to the vast scandal of the
rickshaw boys. In fact, so unusual was my
performance that at first I had fairly to clear
myself a way with my kiboko. After a few
experiences they concluded me a particularly
crazy person and let me alone.

Rickshaws, however, are very efficient and
very cheap. The nmners, two in number, are
lithe little round-headed Kavirondos, generally,
their heads shaved to leave a skull cap, clad in
scant ragged garments, and wearing each an
anklet of Httle bells. Their passion for ornament
they confine to small bright things in their hair
and ears. They run easily, with a very long
stride. Even steep hills they struggle up some-
how, zigzagging from one side of the road to the
other, edging along an inch or so at a time.
In such places I should infinitely have preferred
to have walked, but that would have lost me
caste everywhere. There are limits even to a
crazy man's idiosyncrasies. For that reason I
never thoroughly enjoyed rickshaws, save along
the level ways with bells jingling and feet pat-

A TOWN OF CONTRASTS. 139

patting a rapid tune. Certainly I did not enjoy
them going down the steep hills. The boy
between the shafts in front hits the landscape
about every forty feet. I do not really object
to sudden death, but this form of it seemed
unfair to some poor hungry lion.

However, the winding smooth roads among
the forested, shaded bungalows of the upper
part of town were very attractive, especially to-
wards evening. At that time the universal sun-
helmet or double terai could be laid aside for
straw hats, cloth caps, or bare heads. People
played the more violent games, or stroUed idly.
At the hotel there was now a good deal of fooHsh
drinking ; fooHsh, because in this cUmate it is
very bad for the human system, and in these sur-
roundings of much interest and excitement the
reKef of its exaltation from monotony or ennui or
routine could hardly be required.

XV.

PEOPLE.

CONSroERED as a class rather than as
individuals, the dark-skinned population
is easily the more interesting. Considered as
individuals, the converse is true. Men like Sir
Percy Girouard, Hobley, Jackson, Lord Dela-
mere, McMillan, Cunninghame, Allan Black,
Leslie Tarleton, Vanderweyer, the Hill cousins.
Home, and a dozen others are nowhere else to be
met in so small a conununity. But the whites
have developed nothing in their relations one
to another essentially different. The artisan
and shopkeeping class dwell on the flats ; the
Government people and those of miHtary connec-
tions Kve on the heights on one side of the little
stream ; the civil service and bigger business
men among the hills on the other. Between
them all is a Uttle jealousy, and contempt, and
condescension ; just as there is jealousy, and

PEOPLE. 141

contempt, and condescension elsewhere. They
are pleasant people, and hospitable, and some of
them very distinguished in position or achieve-
ment ; and I am glad to say I have good friends
among them.

But the native is the joy, and the never-
ceasing delight. For his benefit is the wide,
gUttering, colourful, insanitary bazaar, with its
dozens of Httle open-air veranda shops, its
" hotels " where he can sit in a real chair and
drink real tea, its cafes, and the dark mysteries
of its more doubtful amusements. The bazaar
is right in the middle of town, just where it ought
not to be, and it is constantly being quarantined,
and threatened with removal. It houses a large
population mysteriously, for it is of shght extent.
Then on the borders of town are the two great
native villages — one belonging to the Somalis,
and the other hospitably accommodating the
swarms of caravan porters and their families.
For, just as in old days Mombasa and Zanzibar
used to be the points from which caravans into
the interior would set forth, now Nairobi outfits
the majority of expeditions. Probably ten thou-
sand picked natives of various tribes are engaged
in the profession. Of course but a small pro-
portion of this number is ever at home at any

142 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

one time ; but the village is a large one. Both
these villages are built in the native style, of
plaster and thatch ; have their own headman
government — under supervision — and are kept
pretty well swept out and tidy. Besides these
three main gathering places are many camps
and " shambas " * scattered everywhere ; and
the back country coimts miUions of raw jungle
savages, only too glad to drift in occasionally
for a look at the metropolis.

At first the newcomer is absolutely bewildered
by the variety of these peoples ; but after a Uttle
he learns to differentiate. The SomaUs are
perhaps the first recognizable, with their finely
chiselled, intelligent, deKcate brown features,
their slender forms, and their strikingly pictur-
esque costumes of turbans, flowing robes, and
embroidered sleeveless jackets. Then he learns
to distinguish the savage from the sophisticated
dweller of the town. Later comes the identifi-
cation of the nmnerous tribes.

The savage comes in just as he has been for,
ethnologists alone can guess, how many thou-
sands of years. He is too old an institution to
have been affected as yet by this tiny spot of
modernity in the middle of the wilderness. As a

* Native farmleta, generaUy temporary.

PEOPLE. 143

consequence he startles the newcomer even more
than the sight of giraffes on the skyUne.

When the shenzi — wild man — comes to town
he gathers in two or three of his companions, and
presents himself as follows : His hair has been
grown quite long, then gathered in three tight
pigtails wound with leather, one of which hangs
over his forehead, and the other two over his
ears. The entire head he has then anointed
with a mixture of castor oil and a bright red
colouring earth. This is wiped away evenly all
around the face, about two inches below the hair,
to leave a broad, bandhke glistening effect
around the entire head. The ears are most
marvellous. From early youth the lobes have
been stretched, until at last they have become
like two long elastic loops, hanging down upon
the shoulder, and capable of accommodating
anything up to and including a tomato can.
When in fatigue uniform these loops are caught
up over the tops of the ears, but on dress parade
they accommodate almost anything considered
ornamental. I have seen a row of safety pins
clasped in them or a nmnber of curtain rings ;
or a marmalade jar, or the gUttering cover of a
tobacco tin. The edges of the ears, all around
to the top, are then pierced. Then the insertion

144 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

of a row of long white wooden skewers gives one
a peculiarly porcupinish look ; or a row of little
brass danglers hints of wealth. Having thus
finished off his head, your savage clasps around
his neck various strings of beads ; or coUars of
iron or copper wire, polished to the point of
glitter ; puts on a half-dozen armlets and leglets
of the same ; ties on a narrow bead belt, in which
is thrust a short sword ; anoints himself all
over with reddened castor oil until he glistens
and shines in the sun ; rubs his legs with white
clay and traces patterns therein ; seizes his long-
bladed spear, and is ready for the city. Oh, no !
I forgot — and he probably came near doing so —
his strip of 'Mericani.* This was originally
white, but constant wear over castor oil has
turned it a uniform and beautiful brown.

The purpose of this is ornament, and it is so
worn. There has been an attempt, I understand,
to force these innocent children to some sort of
conventional decency while actually in the
streets of Nairobi. It was too large an order.
Some bring in clothes, to be sure, because the
white man asks it ; but why no sensible man could
say. They are hung from one shoulder, flap
merrily in the breeze, and are «dway8 quite

* White cotton cloth.

PEOPLE. 145

frankly tucked up about the neck or under the
arms when the wearer happens to be in haste.
As a matter of fact these savages are so beauti-
fully and smoothly formed ; their red-brown or
chocolate-brown skin is so fine in texture, and
their complete unconsciousness so genuine that
in an hour the newcomer is quite accustomed to
their nakedness.

These proud youths wander mincingly down
the street with an expression of the most fatuous
and good-natured satisfaction with themselves.
To their minds they have evidently done every last
thing that human ingenuity or convention could
encompass.

These young men are the dandies, the proud
young aristocracy of wealth and importance ;
and of course they may differ individually or
tribally from the sample I have offered. Also
there are many other social grades. Those who
care less for dress or have less to get it with can
rub along very cheaply. The only real essentials
are (a) something for the ear — a tomato can will
do ; (6) a trifle for clothing — and for that a scrap
of gunny sacking will be quite enough.

The women to be seen in the streets of Nairobi
are mostly of the Kikuyu tribe. They are pretty
much of a pattern. Their heads are shaven,

146 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

either completely or to leave only ornamental
tufts ; and are generally bound with a fine wire
fillet so tightly that the strands seem to sink into
the flesh. A piece of cotton cloth, dyed dark
umber red, is belted around the waist, and some-
times, but not always, another is thrown about
the shoulder. They go in for more hardware
than do the men. The entire aims and the
calves of the legs are encased in a sort of armour
made of quarter-inch wire wound closely, and a
collar of the same material stands out Hke a ruff
eight or ten inches aroimd the neck. This is
wound on for good ; and must be worn day and
night and all the time, a ciunbersome and tre-
mendously heavy burden. A dozen large loops
of coloured beads strung through the ears, and
various strings 6md necklaces of beads, cowrie
shells, and the like finish them out in all their
gorgeousness. They would sink hke plummets.
Their job in life, besides lugging all this stuff about,
is to carry in firewood and forage. At any time
of the day long files of them can be seen bending
forward under their burdens. These they carry
on their backs by means of a strap across the
tops of their heads ; after the fashion of the
Canadian tump line.

The next cut above the shenzi, or wild man, is

PEOPLE. 147

the individual who has been on safari as carrier,
or has otherwise been much employed around
white men. From this experience he has ac-
quired articles of apparel and points of view. He
is given to rgigged khaki, or cast-off garments of
all sorts, but never to shoes. This hint of the
conventional only serves to accent the little self-
satisfied excursions he makes into barbarism.
The shirt is always worn outside, the ear orna-
ments are as varied as ever, the head is shaved
in strange patterns, a tiny tight tuft on the
crown is useful as fastening for feathers or Httle
streamers or anything else that will wave or
glitter. One of these individuals wore a red
label he had, with patience and difficulty, re-
moved from one of our tnmks. He had pasted
it on his forehead ; and it read " Baggage Room.
Not Wanted." These people are, after all, but
modified shenzis. The modification is nearly
always in the direction of the comic.

Now we step up to a class that would resent
being called shenzis as it would resent an insult.
This is the personal servant class. The members
are of all tribes, with possibly a sHght preponder-
ance of SwahiHs and Somalis. They are a very
clean, well-groomed, self-respecting class, with a
great deal of dignity, and a great deal of pride in

148 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

their bwanas. Also they are exceedingly likely
to degenerate unless ruled with a firm hand juid
a wise head. Very rarely are they dishonest as
respects the possessions of their own masters.
They understand their work perfectly, and the
best of them get the equivalent of from eight to
ten dollars a month. Every white individual
has one or more of them ; even the tiny children
with their ridiculous little sun helmets are fol-
lowed everywhere by a tall, solenm, white-robed
black. Their powers of divination approach
the uncanny. About the time you begin to
think of wanting something, and are making
a first helpless survey of a boyless landscape,
your own servant suddenly, mysteriously, and
unobtrusively appears from nowhere. Where
he keeps himself, where he feeds himself, where
he sleeps you do not know. These beautifully
clean, trim, dignified people are always a pleas-
ant feature in the varied picture.

The Somalis are a clan by themselves. A few
of them condescend to domestic service, but the
most prefer the free life of traders, horse dealers,
gimbearers, camel drivers, labour go-betweens,
and similar guerrilla occupations. They are
handsome, dashing, proud, treacherous, coura-
geous, likeable, imtrustworthy. They career

PEOPLE. 149

around on their high, short-stimiped saddles ;
they saunter indolently in small groups ; they
hang about the hotel hoping for a dicker of some
kind. There is nothing of the savage about
them, but much of the true barbarism, with the
barbarian's pride, treachery, and love of colour.

XVI.

RECRUITING.

TO the traveller Nairobi is most interesting
as the point from which expeditions start
and to which they return. Doubtless an extended
stay in the country would show him that problems
of administration and possibihties of develop-
ment could be even more absorbing ; but such
things are very sketchy to him at first.

As a usual thing, when he wants porters he
picks them out from the throng hanging around
the big outfitters' establishments. Each man
is then given a blanket — cotton, but of a most
satisfying red — a tin water bottle, a short stout
cord, and a navy blue jersey. After that cere-
mony he is yours.

But on the occasion of one three months'
journey into comparatively imknown country
we ran up against difficulties. Some two weeks

RECRUITING. 151

before our contemplated start two or three cases
of bubonic plague had been discovered in the
bazaar, and as a consequence Nairobi was quaran-
tined. This meant that a rope had been stretched
around the infected area, that the shops had been
closed, and that no native could — officially —
leave Nairobi. The latter provision affected us ;
for under it we should be unable to get our bearers
out.

As a matter of fact, the whole performance —
unofficially — was a farce. Natives conversed
affably at arm's length across the ropes ; hun-
dreds sneaked in and out of town at will ; and
from the rear of the infected area I personally
saw beds, chests, household goods, blankets,
and clothes passed to friends outside the ropes.
When this latter condition was reported, in my
presence, to the medical officers, they replied
that this was a matter for police cognizance !
But the brave outward show of ropes, disinfect-
ants, gorgeous sentries — ^in front — and official
inspection went solemnly on. Great, even in
Africa, is the god of red tape.

Our only possible plan, in the circumstances,
was to recruit the men outside the town, to camp
them somewhere, march them across country to
a way station, and there embark them. Our

162 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

goods and safari stores we could then ship out to
them by train.

Accordingly we rode on bicycles out to the
Swahih village.

This is, as I have said, composed of large " bee-
hive " houses thatched conically with straw.
The roofs extend to form verandas beneath which
sit indolent damsels, their hair divided in in-
numerable tiny parts running fore and aft like
the stripes on a water melon ; their figured
'Mericani garments draped gracefully. As be-
fitted the women of plutocrats, they wore
much jewellery, some of it set in their noses.
Most of them did all of nothing, but some sat
half buried in narrow strips of bright-coloured
tissue paper. These they were pasting together
like rolls of tape, the coloured edges of the paper
forming concentric patterns on the resultant
discs — an infinite labour. The discs, when com-
pleted, were for infiertion in the lobes of the
ears.

When we arrived the irregular " streets " of
the village were nearly empty, save for a few
elegant youths, in long kanzuas, or robes of cin-
namon colour and spotless white, on their heads
fezzes or turbans, in their hands slender rattan
canes. They were very busy talking to each

RECRUITING. 153

other, and of course did not notice the idle
beauties beneath the verandas.

Hardly had we appeared, however, when
mysteriously came forth the headman — a bearded,
solemn, Arab-like person with a phenomenally
ugly face but a most pleasing smile. We told him
we wanted porters. He clapped his hands. To
the four young men who answered this summons
he gave a command. From sleepy indolence
they sprang into life. To the four cardinal points
of the compass they darted away, running up
and down the side streets, beating on the doors,
screaming at the tops of their lungs the word
" Cazi "* over and over again.

The village hummed like a wasps' nest. Men
poured from the huts in swarms. The streets
were filled ; the idle sauntering youths were
swamped, and sunk from view. Clamoiu' and
shouting arose where before had been a droning
silence. The mob beat up to where we stood,
surroimding us, shouting at us. From some-
where some one brought an old table and two
decrepit chairs, battered and rickety in themselves,
but symbols of great authority in a community
where nobody habitually used either. Two
naked boys proudly took charge of our bicycles.

* Work.

154 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

We seated ourselves.

" Fall in ! " we yeUed.

About half the crowd fell into rough lines. The
rest drew slightly to one side. Nobody stopped
talking for a single instant.

We arose and tackled our job. The first part
of it was to segregate the applicants into their
different tribes.

" Monumwezi hapa I " we yelled ; and the
command was repeated and repeated again by
the headman, by his four personal assistants, by
a half-dozen lesser headmen. Slowly the Mon-
umwezi drew aside. We impressed on them em-
phatically they must stay thus, and went after,
in turn, the Baganda, the Wakamba, the Swahilis,
the Kavirondo, the Kikuyu. When we had them
grouped, we went over them individually. We
pimched their chests, we ran over all their joints,
we examined their feet, we felt their muscles.
Our victims stood rigidly at inspection, but their
numerous friends siu'rounded us closely, urging
the claims of the man to our notice. It was
rather confusing, but we tried to go at it as
though we were alone in a wilderness. If the
man passed muster we motioned him to a rapidly
growing group.

When we had finished we had about sixty men

RECRUITING. 155

segregated. Then we went over this picked lot
again. This time we tried not only to get good
specimens, but to mix oiu* tribes. At last om*
comit of twenty-nine was made up, and we took
a deep breath. But to us came one of them
complaining that he was a Monumwezi, and that

we had picked only three Mommiwezi, and

We cut him short. His contention was quite
correct. A porter tent holds five, and it does not
do to mix tribes. Reorganization ! Cut out
two extra Kavirondos, and include two more
Monumwezi. " Bass ! j&nished ! Now go get
your effects. We start immediately."

As quickly as it had filled, the street cleared.
The rejected dived back into their huts, the
newly enlisted carriers went to collect their bag-
gage. Only remained the headman and his
fierce-faced assistants, and the splendid youths
idling up and down — none of them had volun-
teered, you may be sure — and the damsels of
leisure beneath the porticos. Also one engaging
and peculiar figure hovering near.

This individual had been particularly busy dm*-
ing our recruiting. He had hustled the men into
line, he had advised us for or against different
candidates, he had loudly sung my praises as a
man to work for, although, of course, he knew

166 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

nothing about me. Now he approached, saluted,
smiled. He was a tall, slenderly-built per-
son, with phenomenally long, thin legs, slightly
rounded shoulders, a forward thrust, keen face,
and remeirkably long, slim hands. With these
he gesticulated much, in a right-angled fashion,
after the mjmner of Egyptian hieroglyphical
figures. He was in no manner shenzi. He
wore a fez, a neat khaki coat and shorts, blue
puttees and boots. Also a belt with leather
pockets, a bunch of keys, a wrist watch, and
a seal ring. His air was of great elegance
and social ease. We took him with us as
C.'s gimbearer. He proved staunch, a good
tracker, an excellent hunter, and a most engag-
ing individual. His name was Kongoni, and he
was a Wakamba.

But now we were confronted with a new prob-
lem : that of getting our twenty-nine chosen ones
together again. They had totally disappeared.
In all directions we had emissaries beating up
the laggards. As each man reappeared carrying
his Uttle bundle, we lined him up with his com-
panions. Then when we turned our backs we
lost him again ; he had thought of another friend
with whom to exchange farewells. At the long
last, however, we got them all collected. The

RECRUITING. 157

procession started, the naked boys proudly
wheeling our bikes alongside. We saw them
fairly clear of everything, then turned them over
to Kongoni, while we returned to Nairobi to see
after our effects.

1

Part IV.
A LION HUNT ON KAPITI.

02

XVII.
AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS.

THIS has to do with a lion hunt on the Kapiti
Plains. On the veranda at Nairobi I had
some time previous met Clifford Hill, who had
invited me to visit him at the ostrich farm he
and his cousin were running in the mountains
near Machakos. Some time later, a visit to Juja
Farm gave me the opportunity. Juja is only
a day's ride from the Hills'. So an Africander,
originally from the south, Captain D., and I sent
across a few carriers with our personal effects,
and ourselves rode over on horseback.

Juja is on the Athi Plains. Between the
Athi and Kapiti Plains rims a range of low
mountains around the end of which one can make
his way as around a promontory. The Hills'
ostrich farm was on the highlands in the bay on
the other side of the promontory.

It was towards the close of the rainy season.

162 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and the rivers were up. We had to swim our
horses within a half-mile of Juja, and got pretty
wet. Shortly after crossing the Athi, however,
five miles on, we emerged on the dry, drained
slopes from the hills. Here the grass was long,
and the ticks plentiful. Our horses' legs and
chests were black with them ; and when we
dismounted for lunch we ourselves were almost
immediately aUve with the pests. In this very
high grass the game was rather scarce, but after
we had climbed by insensible grades to the
shorter growth we began to see many hartebeeste,
zebra, and gazelles, and a few of the wildebeeste,
or brindled gnus. Travel over these great plains
and through these leisurely low hills is a good deal
like coastwise sailing — the same apparently im-
attainable landmarks which, nevertheless, are at
last passed and left astern by the same sure but
insensible progress. Thus we drew up on appar-
ently continuous hills, found wide gaps between
them, crossed them, and turned to the left along
the other side of the promontory. About five
o'clock we came to the Hills'.

The ostrich farm is situated on the very top of
a conical rise that sticks up like an island close
inshore to the semicircle of mountains in which
end the vast plains of Kapiti. Thus the Hills have

AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS. 163

at their backs and sides these solid ramparts and
face westward the immensities of space. For
Kapiti goes on over the edge of the world to
unknown, imguessed regions, rolling and troubled
like a sea. And from that unknown, on very
still days, the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro peers
out, sketched as faintly against the sky as a soap
bubble wafted upward and about to disappear.
Here and there on the plains kopjes stand like
islands, their stone tops looking as though
thrust through the smooth prairie surface from
beneath. To them meandered long, narrow
ravines full of low brush, Hke thin, wavering
streaks of gray. On these kopjes — each of which
had its name — and in these ravines we were to
hunt Kons.

We began the ascent of the cone on which
dwelt our hosts. It was one of those hills that
seem in no part steep, and yet which finally
succeed in raising one to a considerable height.
We passed two ostrich herds in charge of savages,
rode through a scattered native village, and so
came to the farm itself, situated on the very
summit.

The house consisted of three large circular huts,
thatched neatly with papyrus stalks, and with
conical roofs. These were arranged as a triangle,

164 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

just touching each other ; and the space between
had been roofed over to form a veranda. We
were ushered into one of these circular rooms.
It was spacious and contained two beds, two
chairs, a dresser, and a table. Its earth floor was
completely covered by the skins of animals. In
the corresponding room, opposite, slept oin* hosts ;
while the third was the living and dining room.
A long table, raw-hide bottomed chairs, a large
sideboard, bookcases, a long easy settee with
pillows, gun racks, photographs in and out of
frames, a table with writing materials, and books
and magazines everywhere — not to speak of again
the skins of many animals completely covering
the floor. Out behind, in small, separate build-
ings, laboured the cook, and dwelt the stores,
the bath-tub, and other such necessary affairs.

As soon as we had consumed the usual grateful
lime juice and sparklets, we followed our hosts
into the open air to look around.

On this high, airy hill top the Hills some day
are going to build them a real house. In antici-
pation they have laid out groimds and have
planted many things. In examining these my
California training stood by me. Out there, as
here, one so often examines his own and his
neighbours' gardens, not for what they are but

AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS. 165

for what they shall become. His imagination
can exalt this tiny seedling to the impressive-
ness of spreading noontime shade ; can magnify
yonder apparent duplicate to the full symmetry
of a shrub ; can ruthlessly diminish the present
importance of certain grand and lofty growths
to its true status of flower or animal. So from
a dead uniformity of size he casts forward in
the years to a pleasing variation of shade, of
jxmgle, of open glade, of flowered vista ; and he
goes away full of expert admiration for " X.'s
bully garden." With this soHd training beneath
me I was able on this occasion to please im-
mensely.

From the house site we descended the slope to
where the ostriches and the cattle and the people
were in the late simlight swarming upward from
the plfiins pastiu-es below. These people were,
to the chief extent, Wakamba, quite savage, but
attracted here by the justness and fair dealing of
the HiUs. Some of them farmed on shares with
the Hills, the white men furnishing the land and
seed, and the black men the labour ; some of
them laboured on wage ; some few herded cattle
or ostriches ; some were hxmters and took the field
only when, as now, serious business was afoot.
They had their complete villages, with priests,

166 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

witch doctors, and all ; and they seemed both
contented and fond of the two white men.

As we walked about we learned much of the
ostrich business ; and in the course of our ten
days' visit we came to a better realization of how
much there is to think of in what appears basically
so simple a proposition.

In the nesting time, then, the Hills went out
over the open country, sometimes for days at a
time, armed with long high-power telescopes.
With these fearsome and unwieldy instnunents
they siu^eyed the country inch by inch from
the advantage of a kopje. When thus they
discovered a nest, they descended and appro-
priated the eggs. "Kie latter, hatched at
home in an incubator, formed the nucleus of a
flock.

Pass the raising of ostrich chicks to full size
through the difficulties of disease, wild beasts,
and sheer cussedness. Of the resultant thirty
birds or so of the season's catch, but two or three
will even promise good production. These must
be bred in captivity with other likely specimens.
Thus after several years the industrious ostrich
farmer may become possessed of a few really
prime birds. To accumulate a proper flock of
such in a new country is a matter of a decade or

AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS. 167

so. Extra prime birds are as well known and as
much in demand for breeding as any blood
horse in a racing coimtry. Your true ostrich
enthusiast, like the Hills, possesses trunks full of
feathers not good commercially, but intensely
interesting for comparison and for the purposes
of prophecy. While I stayed with them came
a rumour of a very fine plucking a distant neigh-
bour had just finished from a likely two-year-old.
The Hills were manifestly uneasy until one of
them had ridden the long distance to compare
this newcomer's product with that of their own
two-year-olds. And I shall never forget the
reluctantly admiring shake of the head with
which he acknowledged that it was indeed a
" very fine feather ! "

But getting the birds is by no means all of
ostrich farming, as many eager experimen-
ters have discovered to their cost. The birds
must have a certain sort of pasture land;
and their paddocks must be built on an earth
that will not soil or break the edges of the
new plumes.

And then there is the constant danger of wild
beasts. When a man has spent years in gathering
suitable flocks, he cannot be blamed for wild anger
when, as happened while I was in the country,

168 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

lions kill sixty or seventy birds in a night. The
ostrich seems to tempt lions greatly. The beasts
will make their way through and over the most
comphcated defences. Any ostrich farmer's life
is a constant warfare against them. Thus the
Hills had slain sixty- eight lions in and near their
farm — a tremendous record. Still the beasts con-
tinued to come in. My hosts showed me, with
considerable pride, their arrangements finally
evolved for night protection.

The ostriches were confined in a series of heavy
corrals, segregating the birds of different ages.
Aroimd the outside of this group of enclosures
ran a wide ring corral in which were confined the
numerous cattle ; and as an outer wall to this
were built the huts of the Wakamba village.
Thus to penetrate to the ostriches the enterpris-
ing lion would have to pass both the people, the
cattle, and the strong thorn and log structures
that contained them.

This subject brings me to another set
of acquaintances we had already made — ^the
dogs.

These consisted of an Airedale named Ruby ;
two setters called Wayward and Girlie ; a heavy
black mongrel, Nero ; ditto brindle, Ben ; and a
smaller black and white ditto. Ranger. They

AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS. 169

were very nice friendly doggy dogs, but they did
not look like lion hunters. Nevertheless, Hill
assured us that they were of great use in the
sport, and promised us that on the following
day we should see just how.

6 a

xvm.

THE FIRST LIONESS.

AT an early hour we loaded our bedding, food,
'^*- tents, and camp outfit on a two-wheeled
wagon drawn by four of the humpbacked native
oxen, and sent it away across the plains, with
instructions to make camp on a certain kopje.
CUfford Hill and myself, accompanied by our
gunbearers and syces, then rode leisurely down
the length of a shallow brushy canon for a mile
or so. There we dismounted and sat down to
await the arrival of the others. These — includ-
ing Harold Hill, Captain D., five or six Wakamba
spearmen, our own carriers, and the dogs — came
along more slowly, beating the bottoms on the
off chance of game.

The sun was just warming, and the bees and
insects were filling the air with their sleepy dron-
ing sounds. The hillside opposite showed many
Uttle outcrops of rocks so like the hills of our own
Western States that it was somewhat difficult

THE FIRST LIONESS. 171

to realize that we were in Africa. For some
reason the delay was long. Then suddenly all
four of us simultaneously saw the same thing.
A quarter-mile away and on the hillside opposite
a magnificent lioness came loping easily along
through the grass. She looked very small at that
distance, like a toy, and quite unhurried. In-
deed, every few moments she paused to look back
in an annoyed fashion over her shoulder in the
direction of the row behind her.

There was nothing to do but sit tight and wait.
The lioness was headed exactly to cross our front ;
nor, except at one point, was she at all likely to
deviate. A shallow tributary ravine ran into our
own about two hundred yards away. She might
possibly sneak down the bed of this. It seemed
imlikely. The going was bad, and in addition
she had no idea as yet that she had been sighted.
Indeed, the chances were that she would come
to a definite stop before making the crossing, in
which case we would get a shot.

" And if she does go down the donga,"
whispered Hill, " the dogs will locate her."

Sitting still while things approach is always
exciting. This is true of ducks ; but when you
multiply ducks by lions it is still more true. We
all crouched very low in the grass. She leapt

172 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

without hesitation into the ravine — and did not
emerge.

Tliis was a disappointment. We concluded
she must have entered the stream bottom, and
were just about to move when Memba Sasa
snapped his fingers. His sharp eyes had dis-
covered her sneaking along, belly to the ground,
like the cat she was. The explanation of this
change in her gait was simple. Our companions
had rounded the comer of the hill and were
galloping in plain view a half-mile away. The
lioness had caught sight of them.

She was gliding by, dimly visible, through thick
brush seventy yards distant. Now I could make
out a tawny patch that faded while I looked ; now
I could merely guess at a melting shadow.

" Stir her up," whispered Hill. " Never mind
whether you hit. She'll sneak away."

At the shot she leaped fully out into the open
with a snarl. Promptly I planted a Springfield
bullet in her ribs. She answered slightly to the
hit, but did not shift position. Her head up, her
tail thrashing from side to side, her ears laid back,
she stood there looking the landscape over care-
fully point by point. She was searching for us,
but as yet could not locate us. It was really
magnificent.

THE FIRST LIONESS. 173

I attempted to throw in another cartridge, but
because of my desire to work the bolt quietly, in
order not to attract the lioness's attention, I did
not pull it back far enough, and the cartridge
jammed in the magazine. As evidence of Memba
Sasa's coolness and efficiency, it is to be written
that he became aware of this as soon as I did.
He thrust the '405 across my right side, at the
same time withdrawing the Springfield on the
left. The motion was sUght, but the lioness
caught it. Immediately she dropped her head
and charged.

For the next few moments, naturally, I was
pretty intent on lions. Nevertheless a comer of
my mind was aware of Memba Sasa methodically
picking away at the jammed rifle, and paying no
attention whatever to the beast. Also I heard
Hill making picturesque remarks about his gun-
bearer, who had bolted with his second gun.

The lioness charged very fast, but very straight,
about in the tearing, scrambling manner of a
terrier after a thrown ball. I got in the first
shot as she came, the bullet ranging back from the
shoulder, and Hill followed it inunediately with
another from his '404 Jeffrey. She growled at the
bullets, and checked very slightly as they hit,
but gave no other sign. Then our second shots

174 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

hit her both together. The mere shock stopped
her short, but recovering instantly, she sprang
forward again. Hill's third shot came next, and
perceptibly slowed and staggered, but did not
stop her. By this time she was quite close, and
my own third shot reached her brain. She rolled
over dead.

Decidedly she was a game beast, and stood
more hammering than any other lion I killed or
saw killed. Before the final shot in the brain she
had taken one light bullet and five heavy ones
with hardly a wince. Memba Sasa uttered a
loud grunt of satisfaction when she went down
for good. He had the Springfield reloaded and
cocked, right at my elbow.

Hill's gunboy hovered uncertainly some dis-
tance in the rear. The sight of the charging lion-
ess had been too much for him and he had bolted.
He was not actually up a tree ; but he stood very
near one. He lost the gun and acquired a swift
kick.

Our friends and the men now came up. The
dogs made a great row over the dead lioness.
She was measured and skinned to accompaniment
of the usual low-hummed chantings. We had
with us a small boy of ten or twelve years whose
job it was to take care of the dogs and to remove

THE FIRST LIONESS. 175

ticks. In fact he was known as the Tick Toto.
As this was his first expedition afield, his father
took especied pains to smear him with fat from
the lioness. This was to make him brave. I
am bound to confess the effect was not imme-
diate.

xrx.

THE DOGS.

I SOON discovered that we were hunting
lions with the assistance of the dogs ; not
that the dogs were hunting lions. They had not
lost any lions, not they ! My mentcd pictiu*es
of the snarling, magnificent king of beasts sur-
rounded by an equally snarling, magnificent pack
vanished into thin air.

Oiu* system was to cover as much likely
country as we could, and to let the dogs have
a good time. As I have before indicated, they
were thoroughly doggy dogs, and interested in
everything — except able-bodied lions. None of
the stick - at -yom-- heels in their composition.
They ranged far and wide through all sorts of
cover, seeking what they could find in the way
of porcupines, mongoose, hares, birds, cats, and
whatever else should interest any healthy-minded
dog. If there happened to be any lions in the

THE DOGS. 177

path of these rangings, the dogs retired rapidly,
discreetly, and with every symptom of horrified
disgust. If a dog came sailing out of a thicket,
ki-yi-ing agitatedly, and took up his position,
tail between his legs, behind his master, we knew
there was probably a lion about. Thus we
hunted lions with dogs.

But in order to be fair to these most excellent
canines, it should be recorded that they recov-
ered a certain proportion of their nerve after a
rifle had been fired. They then returned warily
to the — not attack — reconnaissance. This trait
showed touching faith, and was a real compli-
ment to the marksmanship of their masters,
Some day it will be misplaced. A Uttle cautious
scouting on their part located the woimded
beast ; whereupon, at a respectful distance, they
lifted their voices. As a large element of danger
in case of a wounded lion is the uncertainty as
to his whereabouts, it will be seen that the dogs
were very valuable indeed. They seemed to
know exactly how badly hit any animal might
happen to be, and to gauge their distance ac-
cordingly, until at last, when the quarry was
hammered to harmlessness, they closed in and
began to worry the nearly lifeless carcass. By
this policy the dogs had a lot of fun hunting on

178 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

their own hook, preserved their lives from other-
wise inevitable extinction, and were of great
assistance in saving their masters' skins.

One member of the pack, perhaps two, were,
however, rather pathetic figures. I refer to the
setters. Wayward and Girlie. Ranger, Ruby,
Ben, and Nero scampered merrily over the land-
scape after anything that stirred, from field
mice to serval cats. All was game to their catho-
lic tastes ; and you may be sure, in a country
like Africa, they had few dull moments. But
Wayward and Girhe had been brought up in a
more exclusive manner. Their early instincts
had been supplemented by a rigorous early train-
ing. Game to them meant birds, and birds only.
Furthermore, they had been solenmly assured by
human persons in whom they had the utmost
confidence, that but one sequence of events was
permissible or even thinkable in the presence
of game. The Dog at first intimation by scent
must convey the fact to the Man, must proceed
cautiously to locate exactly, must then stiffen to
a point which he must hold staunchly, no matter
how distracting events might turn out, or how
long an intervtil might elapse. The Man must
next walk up the birds ; shoot at them, perhaps
kill one, then conmiand the Dog to retrieve.

THE DOGS. 179

The Dog must on no account move from his
tracks until such command is given. AU the
affair is perfectly simple ; but quite inflexible.
Any variation in this procedure fills the honest
bird dog's mind with the same horror emd dis-
may experienced by a well-brought-up young
man who discovers that he has on shoes of the
wrong colour. It isn't done, you know.

Consider, then, Wajrward and GirUe in a coim-
try full of game birds. They quarter wide to
right, then cross to left, their heads high, their
feather tails waving in the most approved good
form. When they find birds they draw to their
points in the best possible style ; stiffen out —
and wait. It is now, according to all good ethics,
up to the Man. And the Man and his com-
panions go right on by, paying absolutely no
attention either to the situation or one's own
magnificent piece of work ! What is one to con-
clude ? That our early training is all wrong ?
that we are at one experience to turn apostate
to the settled and only correct order of things ?
Or that our masters are no gentlemen ? That is
a pretty difficult thing, an impossible thing, to
conclude of one's own master. But it leaves one
in a fearful state mentally ; and one has no idea
of what to do I

180 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Wayward was a perfect gentleman, and he
played the game according to the very best
traditions. He conscientiously pointed every
bird he could get his nose on. Furthermore he
was absolutely staimch, and held his point even
when the four non-bird dogs rushed in ahead
of him. The expression of puzzlement, grief,
shock, and sadness in his eyes deepened as bird
after bird soared away without a shot. Girlie
was more liberal-minded. She pointed her birds,
and backed Wayward at need, but when the
other dogs rushed her point, she rushed too.
And when we swept on by her, leaving her on
point, instead of holding it quixotically, as did
Wayward, until the bird sneaked away, she
merely waited until we were out of sight, and
then tried to catch it. Finally Captain D. re-
marked that, lions or no lions, he was not going
to stand it any longer. He got out a shotgim,
and all one afternoon killed grouse over Way-
ward, to the latter's intense relief. His ideals
had been rehabiUtated.

XX.

BONDONI.

WE followed many depressions, in which might
be lions, until about three o'clock in the
afternoon. Then we climbed the gently-rising
long slope that culminated, far above the plains,
in the peak of a hill called Bondoni. From a
distance it was steep and well defined ; but, like
most of these larger kopjes, its actual ascent, up
to the last few hundred feet, was so gradual that
we hardly knew we were cHmbing. At the sum-
mit we found our men and the bullock cart.
There also stood an oblong blockhouse of stone,
the walls two feet thick and ten feet high. It
was entered only by a blind angle passage, and
was strong enough, apparently, to resist small
artillery. This structure was simply an ostrich
corral, and bitter experience had shown the
massive construction absolutely necessary as

182 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

adequate protection, in this exposed and solitary
spot, ageiinst the lions.

We had some tea and bread and butter, and
then Clifford Hill and I set out afoot after meat.
Only occasionally do these hard-working settlers
get a chance for hunting on the plains so near
them ; and now they had promised their native
retainers that they would send back a treat of
game. To carry this promised luxury, a number
of the villagers had accompanied the bullock
wagon. As we were to move on next day, it
became very desirable to get the meat promptly
while still near home.

We shpped over to the other side, and by good
fortune caught sight of a dozen zebras feeding
in scrub half-way down the hill. They were out
of their proper environment up there, but we
were glad of it. Down on our tummies, then,
we dropped, and crawled slowly forward through
the high, sweet grasses. We were in the late
afternoon shadow of the hill, and we enjoyed
the mild skill of the stalk. Taking advantage
of every cover, slipping over into little ravines,
lying very flat when one of the beasts raised his
head, we edged nearer and nearer. We were
already well within range, but it amused us to
play the game. Finally, at one hundred yards.

BONDONI. 183

we came to a halt. The zebra showed very hand-
some at that range, for even their smaller leg
stripes were all plainly visible. Of course at
that distance there could be small chance of
missing, and we owned one each. The Wakamba,
who had been watching eagerly, swarmed down,
shouting.

We dined just at sunset under a small tree at
the very top of the peak. Long bars of light
shot through the western clouds ; the plain
turned from solid earth to a mysterious sea of
shifting twilights ; the buttes stood up, wrapped
in veils of soft desert colours ; Kilimanjaro hung
suspended like a rose-coloured bubble above the
abyss beyond the world.

XXI.
RIDING THE PLAINS.

FROM the mere point of view of lions, lion
hunting was very slow work indeed. It meant
riding the whole of long days, from dawn mitil
dark, investigating miles of country that looked
aU alike and in which we seemed to get nowhere.
One by one the long billows of plain fell behind,
until our camp hill had turned blue behind us,
and we seemed to be out in illimitable space, with
no possibiHty, in an ordinary lifetime, of ever
getting in touch with an3rthing £Lgain. What from
above had looked as level as a floor now turned
into a tremendously wide and placid ground
swell. As a consequence we were always going
imperceptibly up and up and up to a long-
delayed sky-line, or tipping as gently down the
other side of the wave. From crest to crest of
these long biUows measured two or three miles.
The vertical distance in elevation from trough

RIDING THE PLAINS. 185

to top was perhaps not over fifty to one hundred
feet. ^

Slowly we rode along the shallow grass and
brush ravines in the troughs of the low billows,
while the dogs worked eagerly in and out of cover,
and our handful of savages cast stones and
shouted. Occasionally we divided forces, and
beat the length of a hill, two of us lying in wait
at one end for the possible Hon, the rest sweep-
ing the sides and summits. Many animals came
boimding along, but no lions. Then Harold
HiU, imlimbering a huge, many- jointed tele-
scope, would lie flat on his back, and sight the
fearsome instrument over his crossed feet, in a
general bird's-eye view of the plains for miles
aroimd. While he was at it we were privileged
to look about us, less imder the burden of re-
sponsibility. We could make out the game as
little, light-coloured dots and speckles, thousands
upon thousands of them, thicker than cattle
ever grazed on the open range, and as far as the
eye could make them out, and then a glance
through our glasses picked them up again for
mile after mile. Even the six-power could go
no farther. The imagination was left the vision
of more leagues of wild animals even to the half-
guessed azure mountains — and beyond. I had

186 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

seen abundant game elsewhere in Africa, but
nothing Hke the multitudes inhabiting the Eapiti
Plains at that time of year. In other seasons
this locality is comparatively deserted.

The glass revealing nothing in our line, we
rode again to the lower levels, and again took
up our slow, painstaking search.

But although three days went by in this
manner without our getting a glimpse of lions,
they were far from being days lost. Minor
adventure filled our hours. What elsewhere would
be of major interest and strange and interest-
ing experience met us at every turn. The game,
while abundant, was very shy. This had noth-
ing to do with distrust of himters, but merely
with the fact that it was the season of green grass.
We liked to come upon animals unexpectedly, to
see them buck-jiunp and cavort.

Otherwise we rode in a moving space cleared
of animals, the beasts unobtrusively giving way
before us, and as unobtrusively closing in behind.
The Sim flashed on the spears of savages travelling
single file across the distance. Often we stopped
short to gaze upon a wild and tumbled horizon of
storm that Gustave Dore might have drawn.

The dogs were always joyously routing out
some beast, desirable from their point of view.

RIDING THE PLAINS. 187

and chasing it hopelessly about, to our great
amusement. Once they ran into a giant por-
cupine— about the size a setter would be, with
shorter legs — which did not imderstand running
away. They came upon it in a dense thicket,
and the ensuing row was unholy. They man-
aged to kill the porcupine among them, after
which we plucked barbed quills from some very
grieved dogs. The quills were large enough to
make excellent penholders. The dogs also swore
by all canine gods that they wouldn't do a thing
to a hyena, if only they could get hold of one.
They never got hold of one, for the hyena is a
coward. His skull and teeth, however, are as big
and powerful as those of a lioness ; so I do not
know which was luckier in his avoidance of
trouble — ^he or the dogs.

Nor from the shooting standpoint did we lack
for sport. We had to shoot for our men, and
we occasionally needed meat ourselves. It was
always interesting, when such necessities arose, to
stalk the shy buck and do long-range rifle prac-
tice. This shooting, however, was done only
after the day's himt was over. We had no desire
to spoil our lion chances.

The long circle towards our evening camp
always proved very long indeed. We arrived

188 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

at dusk to find supper ready for us. As we were
old campaigners we ate this off chop boxes as
tables, and sat on the ground. It was served
by a Wakamba youth we had nicknamed Her-
bert Spencer, on account of his gigantic intellect.
Herbert meant well, but about all he succeeded
in accomplishing was a pathetically wrinkled
brow of care and scared eyes. He had never
been harshly treated by any of us, but he acted
as though always ready to bolt. If there were
twenty easy right methods of doing a thing and
one difficult wrong method, Herbert would get
the latter every time. No amount of experience
could teach him the logic of our simplest ways.
One evening he brought a tumbler of mixed
water and condensed milk. Harold Hill glanced
into the receptacle.

" Stir it," he conmianded briefly.

Herbert Spencer obeyed. We talked about
something else. Some five or ten minutes later
one of us noticed that Herbert was still stirring,
and called attention to the fact. When the
latter saw our eyes were on him he speeded up
until the spoon fairly rattled in the tumbler.
Then, when he thought our attention had relaxed
again, he relaxed also his efforts — the spoon
travelled slower 8Uid slower in its dreamy circle.

RIDING THE PLAINS. 189

We amused ourselves for some time thus. Then
we became so weak from laughter that we fell
backward off our seats, and some one gasped
a command that Herbert cease.

I am afraid, after a little, that we rather en-
joyed mildly tormenting poor Herbert Spencer.
He tried so hard, and looked so scared, and was
so unbeUevably stupid ! Almost always he had
to pick his orders word by word from a vast
amount of high-flown, unnecessary English.

" 0 Herbert Spencer," the command would
run, " if you would condescend to bend your
mighty intellect to the lowly subject of maji,
and will snatch time from your profoimd cere-
brations to assure its being moto sans, I would
esteem it infinite condescension on your part to
let pesi pesi."

And Herbert, listening to all this with a pain-
ful, strained intensity, would catch the six- key
words, and would falter forth a trembling " N'dio
bwana."

Somewhere down deep within Herbert Spen-
cer's make up, however, was a sense of moral
duty. When we finally broke camp for good,
on the great hill of Lucania, Herbert Spencer,
relieved from his job, bolted like a shot. As far
as we could see him he was running at top speed.

190 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

If he had not possessed a sense of duty, he would
have done this long ago.

We camped always well up on some of the
numerous hills ; for, although anxious enough to
find lions in the daytime, we had no use for
them at all by night. This usuaUy meant that
the boys had to carry water some distance. We
kept a canvas bath-tub full for the benefit of the
dogs, from which they could drink at any time.
This necessary privilege after a hard day nearly
drove Captain D. crazy. It happened like this :

We were riding along the slope of a hillside,
when in the ravine, a half mile away and below us,
we saw something dark pop up in sight and then
down again. We shouted to some of the savage
Wakamba to go and investigate. They closed
in from all sides, their long spears poised to strike.
At the last moment out darted, not an auiimal,
but a badly frightened old man armed with bow
and arrow. He dashed out under the upraised
spears, clasped one of the men around the knees,
and implored protection. Our savages, their
spears ready, glanced over their shoulders for
instruction. They would have liked nothing
better than to have spitted the poor old fellow.

We galloped down as fast as possible to the
rescue. With reluctance our spearmen drew

RIDING THE PLAINS. 191

back, releasing their prize. We picked up his
scattered bows and arrows, restored them to
him, and uttered many reassurances. He was
so badly frightened that he could not stand for
the trembling of his knees. Undoubtedly he
thought that war had broken out, and that he
was the first of its unconscious victims. After
calming him down, we told him what we were
doing, and offered to shoot him meat if he cared
to accompany us. He accepted the offer with joy.
So pleased and relieved was he, that he skipped
about like a young and nimble goat. His hunt-
ing companion, who all this time had stood atop
of a hill at a safe distemce, viewed these perform-
ances with concern. Our captive shouted loudly
for him to come join us and share in the good
fortune. Not he ! He knew a trap when he saw
one I Not a bit disturbed by the tales this man
would probably carry back home, our old fellow
attached himself to us for three days !

Near simdown, to make our promise good,
and also to give our own men a feast, I shot two
hartebeeste near camp.

The evening was beautiful. The Machakos
Range, miles distant across the valley, was
mantled with thick, soft clouds. From our ele-
vation we could see over them, and catch the

19« AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

glow of moonlight on their upper surfaces. We
were very tired, so we turned in early and settled
ourselves for a good rest.

Outside our tent the little " Injun fire " we had
built for our own comfort died down to coals.
A short distance away, however, was a huge
bonfire around which all the savages were gath-
ered. They squatted comfortably on their heels,
roasting meat. Behind each mem was planted his
glittering long-bladed spear. The old man held
the place of honour, as befitted his flirtation with
death that morning. Everybody was absolutely
happy — a good fire, plenty of meat, and strangers
with whom to have a grand " shauri." The
clatter of tongues was a babel, for almost every
one talked at once and excitedly. Those who
did not talk crooned weird, improvised chants,
in which they detailed the doings of the camp.

We fell very quickly into the half doze of too
great exhaustion. It never became more than
a half doze. I suppose every one who reads this
has had at some time the experience of dropping
asleep to the accompaniment of some noise that
ought soon to cease — a conversation in the next
room, singing, the barking of a dog, the playing
of music, or the like. The fact that it ought soon
to cease, permits the falling asleep. When, after

RIDING THE PLAINS. 193

an interval, the subconsciousness finds the row
still going on, inexcusable and unabated, it arouses
the victim to staring exasperation. That was our
case here. Those natives should have turned in
for sleep after a reasonable amount of pow-wow.
They did nothing of the kind. On the contrary,
I dragged reluctantly back to consciousness and
the realization that they had quite happily
settled down to make a night of it. I glanced
across the little tent to where Captain D. lay
on his cot. He was staring straight upward, his
eyes wide open.

After a few seconds he sHpped out softly and
silently. Our httle fire had sunk to embers. A
dozen sticks radiated from the centre of coals.
Each made a firebrand with one end cool to the
grasp. Captain D. hurled one of these at the
devoted and unconscious group.

It whirled through the air and fell plunk in the
other fire, scattering sparks and coals in all direc-
tions. The second was under way before the
first had landed. It hit a native with similar
results, plus astonished and grieved lan-
guage. The rest followed in rapid-magazine-
fire. Every one hit its mark fair and square.
The air was full of sparks exploding in all direc-
tions; the brush was full of Wakamba, their

7

194 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

blankets flapping in the breeze of their going.
The convention was adjourned. There fell the
sucking vacuum of a great silence. Captain D.,
breathing righteous wrath, flopped heavily and
determinedly down on his cot. I caught a faint
snicker from the tent next door.

Captain D. sighed deeply, turned over, and
prepared to sleep. Then one of the dogs up-
rose— I think it was Ben — stretched himself,
yawned, approached deliberately, and began to
drink from the canvas bath-tub just outside.
He drank — lap, lap, lap, lap — for a very long time.
It seemed incredible that cmy mere dog — or can-
vas bath-tub — could hold so much water. The
steady repetition of this sound long after it should
logically have ceased was worse than the shenzi
gathering around the JGire. Each lap should have
been the last, but it was not. The shenzi con-
vention had been abated with firebrands, but the
dog was strictly within his rights. The poor
pups had had a long day with Uttle water, and
they could hardly be blamed for feeling a bit
feverish now. At last Ben ceased. Next morn-
ing Captain D. claimed vehemently that he had
drunk two hours forty-nine minutes and ten
seconds. With a contented sigh Ben lay down.
Then Ruby got up, shook herself, and yawned.

RIDING THE PLAINS. 195

A bright idea struck her. She too went over
and had a drink. After that I, personally, went
to sleep. But in the morning I found Captain
D. staring-eyed and strung nearly to madness,
trying feverishly to calculate how seven dogs
drinking on an average of three hours apiece
could have finished by morning. When Harold
Hill innocently asked if he had slept well, the
captain threw the remaining but now extinct
firebrand at him.

One of the safari boys, a big Baganda, had
twisted his foot a little, and it had swelled up
considerably. In the morning he came to have
it attended to. The obvious treatment was very
hot water and rest ; but it would never do to
tell him so. The recommendation of so simple a
remedy would lose me his faith. So I gave him
a Uttle dab of tick ointment wrapped in a leaf.

" This," said I, " is most wonderful medicine ;
but it is also most dangerous. If you were to
rub it on your foot or your hand or any part of
you, that part would drop off. But if you wash
the part in very hot water continuously for a
half hour, and then put on the medicine, it is
good, and will cure you very soon." I am sure
I do not know what they put in tick ointment ;
nor, for the purpose, did it greatly matter.

196 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

That night, also, Herbert Spencer reached the
climax of his absurdities. The chops he had
cooked did not quite suffice for our hunger, so
we instructed him to give us some of the leg.
By this we meant steak, of course. Herbert
Spencer was gone so long a time that finally we
went to see what possibly could be the matter.
We found him trying desperately to cook the
whole leg in a frying-pan 1

XXII.
THE SECOND LIONESS.

NOW our luck changed most abruptly. We
had been riding since early morning over
the wide plains. By and by we came to a wide,
shallow, flood-water course carpeted with lava
boulders and scant, scattered brush. Two of us
took one side of it, and two the other. At this
we were just within hailing distance. The boys
wandered down the middle.

Game was here very abundant, and in this
broken country proved quite approachable. I
saw one Grant's gazelle head, in especial, that
greatly tempted me ; but we were hunting lions,
and other shooting was out of place. Also the
prospects for hons had brightened, for we were
continually seeing hyenas in packs of from three
to six. They lay among the stones, but galloped
away at our approach. The game paid not the
slightest attention to these huge, skulking brutes.

198 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

One passed within twenty feet of a hartebeeste ;
the latter hardly glanced at him. As the hyena
is lazy as weU as cowardly, and almost never does
his killing, we inferred a good meat supply to
gather so many of them in one place. From a
tributary ravine we flushed nineteen I

Harold Hill was riding with me on the right
bank. His quick eye caught a glimpse of some-
thing beyond our companions on the left side.
A glance through the glasses showed me that it
was a lion, just disappearing over the hill. At
once we turned our horses to cross. It was a
heavy job. We were naturally in a tremendous
hurry ; and the footing among those boulders
and roimded rocks was so vile that a very slow
trot was the best we could accomplish. And
that was only by standing in our stirrups, and
holding up our horses' heads by main strength.
We reached the sky-line in time to see a herd of
game stampeding away from a depression a half-
mile away. We fixed our eyes on that point,
and a moment later saw the lion or lioness, as it
turned out, leap a gully and come out the other
side.

The footing down this slope, too, was appalling,
consisting mainly of chunks of lava interspersed
with smooth, rounded stones and sparse tufts

THE SECOND LIONESS. 199

of grass. In spite of the stones we managed a
sort of stumbling gallop. Why we did not all go
down in a heap I do not know. At any rate we
had no chance to watch om* quarry, for we were
forced to keep our eyes strictly to our way.
When finally we emerged from that tumble of
rocks, she had disappeared.

Either she had galloped out over the plains, or
she had doubled back to take cover in the ravine.
In the latter case she would stand. Our first
job, therefore, was to determine whether she had
escaped over the open country. To this end we
galloped our horses madly in four different direc-
tions, pushing them to the utmost, swooping
here and there in wide circles. That was an ex-
hilarating ten minutes until we had surmounted
every billow of the plain, spied in all directions,
and assured ourselves beyond doubt that she
had not run off. The horses fairly flew, spmn-
ing the hard sod, leaping the rock dikes, skipping
nimbly around the pig holes, turning like cow-
ponies under pressure of knee and rein. Finally
we drew up, converged, and together jogged our
sweating horses back to the ravine. There we
learned from the boys that nothing more had
been seen of our quarry.

We dismounted, handed our mounts to their

200 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

syces, and prepared to make afoot a clean sweep
of the wide, shallow ravine. Here was where
the dogs came in handy. We left a rearguard
of two men, and slowly began onr beat.

The ravine could hardly be called a ravine ;
rather a shallow depression with banks not over
a foot high, and with a varying width of from
two to two hundred feet. The grass grew very
patchy, and not very high; in fact, it seemed
hardly tall enough to conceal anything as large
as a lioness. We men walked along the edge of
this depression, while the dogs ranged back and
forth in its bottom.

We had gone thus a quarter-mile when one of
the rearguard came running up.

" Bwana," said he, " we have seen the lioness.
She is Ijnng in a patch of grass. After you had
passed, we saw her raise her head."

It seemed impossible that she should have
escaped both our eyes and the dogs' noses, but
we returned. The man pointed out a thin growth
of dried, yellow grass ten feet in diameter. Then
it seemed even more incredible. Apparently we
could look right through every foot of it. The
man persisted, so we advanced in battle array.
At thirty yards Captain D. saw the black tips of
her ears. We all looked hard, and at last made

THE SECOND LIONESS. 201

her out, lying very flat, her head between her paws.
Even then she was shadowy and unreal, and, as
I have said, the cover did not look thick enough
to conceal a good- sized dog.

As though she realized she had been sighted,
she at this moment leapt to her feet. Instantly
I put a *405 bullet into her shoulder. Any other
lion I ever saw or heard of would in such cir-
cumstances and at such a distance immediately
have charged home. She turned tail and ran
away. I missed her as she ran, then knocked
her down with a third shot. She got up again,
but was immediately hit by Captain D.'s '350
Magnum and brought to a halt. The dogs, seeing
her turn tail and hearing our shots, had scrambled
madly after her. We dared not shoot again for
fear of hitting one of them, so we dashed rapidly
into the grass and out the other side. Before we
could get to her, she had sent Ruby flying through
the air, and had then fallen over dead. Ruby
got off lucky with only a deep gash the length
of her leg.

This was the only instance I experienced of a
wounded lion showing the white feather. She
was, however, only about three-quarters grown,
and was suffering from diarrhoea.

la

xxm.

THE BIG LION.

THE boys skinned her while we ate lunch.
Then we started several of them back
towards camp with the trophy, and ourselves
cut across country to a small river known as
the Stony Athi. There we dismoimted from
our horses, and sent them and the boys atop
the ridge above the stream, while we ourselves
explored afoot the hillside along the river.

This was a totally different sort of country from
that to which we had been accustomed. Imagine
a very bouldery hillside planted thickly with
knee-high brambles and more sparsely with
higher bushes. They were not really brambles,
of course, but their tripping, tangling, spiky
qualities were the same. We had to force our
way through these, or step from boulder to
boulder. Only very rarely did we get a little
rubbly clear space to walk in, and then for only

THE BIG LION. 203

ten or twenty feet. We tried in spaced intervals
to cover the whole hillside. It was very hard
work. The boys, with the horses, kept pace with
us on the sky-line atop, and two or three hundred
yards away.

We had proceeded in this fashion for about a
mile, when suddenly, and most unexpectedly,
the biggest lion I ever saw leapt straight up
from a bush twenty-five yards in front of me,
and with a tremendous roar vanished behind
another bush. I had just time to throw up the
•405 shotgun-fashion and let drive a snapshot.
Clifford Hill, who was ten yards to my right, saw
the fur fly, and we all heard the snarl as the
bullet hit. Naturally we expected an instant
charge, but, as things turned out, it was evident
the lion had not seen us at all. He had leapt
at the sight of our men and horses on the sky-
line, and when the bullet hit he must have
ascribed it to them. At any rate, he began
to circle through the tangled vines in their
direction.

From their elevation they could follow his
movements. At once they set up howls of
terror and appeals for help. Some began franti-
cally to nm back and forth. None of them tried
to run away ; there was nowhere to go !

204 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

The only thing that saved them was the thick
and spiky character of the cover. The lion, in-
stead of charging straight and fast, was picking
an easy way.

We tore directly up hill as fast as we were able,
leaping from rock to rock, and thrusting reck-
lessly through the tangle. About half-way up I
jiunped to the top of a high, conical rock, and
thence by good luck caught sight of the lion's
great yellow head advancing steadily about
eighty yards away. I took £is good a sight as
I could and pulled trigger. The recoil knocked
me cleeu* off the boulder, but as I fell I saw his
tail go up and knew that I had hit. At once
Clifford Hill and I jumped up on the rock again,
but the lion had moved out of sight. By this
time, however, the sound of the shots and the
smell of blood had caused the dogs to close in.
They did not, of course, attempt to attack the
lion, nor even to get very near him, but their
snarling and barking showed us the beast's
whereabouts. Even this much is bad judgment
on their part, as a number of them have been
killed at it. The thicket burst into an unholy
row.

We all mancEuvred rapidly for position. Again
luck was with me, for again I saw his great head.

THE BIG LION. 205

the mane standing out all around it ; and for the
second time I planted a heavy bullet square in
his chest. This stopped his advance; he lay
down. His head was up and his eyes glared, as
he uttered the most reverberating and magnifi-
cent roars and growls. The dogs leapt and
barked around him. We came quite close, and
I planted my fourth bullet in his shoulder. Even
this was not enough. It took a fifth in the
same place to finish him, and he died at last
biting great chunks of earth.

The howls from the hill top ceased. All gath-
ered to marvel at the lion's immense size. He
measured three feet nine inches at the shoulder,
and nine feet eleven inches between stakes, or ten
feet eleven inches along contour. This is only
five inches under record. We weighed him piece-
meal, after a fashion, and put him between 550
and 600 pounds.

But these are only statistics, and mean Httle
unless a real attempt is made to visualize them.
As a matter of fact, his mere height — that of a
medium- size zebra — was little unless accented
by the impression of his tremendous power and
quickness.

We skinned him, and then rode four long
hours to camp. We arrived at dark, and at

206 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

once set to work preparing the trophy. A
dozen of us squatted around the skin, working
by lantern light. Memba Sasa had had nothing
to eat since before dawn, but in his pride and
delight he refused to touch a mouthful until the
job was finished. Several times we urged him
to stop long enough for even a bite. He steadily
declined, and whetted his knife, his eyes gleam-
ing with delight, his Ups crooning one of his
weird Monumwezi songs. At eleven o'clock the
task was done. Then I presented Memba Sasa
with a tall mug of coffee and lots of sugar. He
considered this a great honour.

XXIV.

THE FIFTEEN LIONS.

TWO days before Captain D. and I were to
return to Juja we approached, about
eleven o'clock in the morning, a long, low,
rugged range of hills called Lucania. They were
not very high, but bold with cliffs, buttes, and
broken rocky stretches. Here we were to make
our final hunt.

We led our safari up to the level of a boulder
flat between two deep canons that ran down
from the hills. Here should be water, so we
gathered imder a lone little tree, and set about
directing the simple disposition of our camp.
Herbert Spencer brought us a cold lunch, and
we sat down to rest and refreshment before
tackling the range.

Hardly had we taken the first mouthfuls, how-
ever, when Memba Sasa, gasping for breath, came
tearing up the slope from the caiion where he
had descended for a drink.

208 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

" Lions I " he cried, guardedly. " I went to
drink, and I saw four lions. Two were lying
under the shade, but two others were playing
like puppies, one on its back."

While he was speaking a lioness wandered out
from the carion and up the opposite slope. She
was somewhere between six and nine hundred
yards away, and looked very tiny ; but the
binoculars brought us up to her with a jump.
Through them she proved to be a good one. She
was not at all hurried, but paused from time to
time to yawn and look about her. After a short
interval, another, also a lioness, followed in her
footsteps. She too had climbed clear when a
third, probably a full-grown but still immature
lion, came out, and after him the fourth.

" You were right," we told Memba Sasa, " there
are your four."

But while we watched, a fifth, again at the
spaced interval, this time a maned lion, clamb-
ered leisurely up in the wake of his family ; and
after him another, and another, and yet an-
other ! We gasped, and sat down, the better to
steady our glasses with our knees. There seemed
no end to Uons. They came out of that appar-
ently inexhaustible canon bed one at a time
and at the same regular intervals ; perhaps

THE FIFTEEN LIONS. 209

twenty yards or so apart. It was almost as
though they were being released singly. Finally
we had fifteen in sight.

It was a most magnificent spectacle, and we
could enjoy it unhmried by the feeling that we
were losing opportunities. At that range it would
be silly to open fire. If we had descended to
the canon in order to follow them out the other
side, they would merely have trotted away. Our
only chance was to wait until they had disap-
peared from sight, and then to attempt a wide
circle in order to catch them from the flank. In
the meantime we had merely to sit still.

Therefore we stared through our glasses, and
enjoyed to the full this most unusual sight.
There were four cubs about as big as setter dogs,
four full-grown but immature youngsters, four
lionesses, and three male lions. They kept their
spaced, single file formation for two-thirds the
ascent of the hill — probably the nature of the
groimd forced them to it — and then gradually
drew together. Near the top, but still below the
summit, they entered a jumble of boulders and
stopped. We could make out several of them
lying down. One fine old yellow fellow stretched
himself comfortably atop a flat rock, in the
position of a bronze Hon on a pedestal.

210 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

We waited twenty minutes to make sure they
were not going to move. Then, leaving all our
men except the gunbearers under the tree, we
slipped back until out of sight, and began to
execute oiu* flank movement. The chances
seemed good. The jumble of boulders was sur-
rounded by open country, and it was improb-
able the lions could leave it without being seen.
We had arranged with our men a system of
signals.

For two hours we walked very hard in order to
circle out of sight, down wind, and to gain the
other side of the ridge back of the lions. We
purposed slipping over the ridge and attacking
from above. Even this was but a slight advan-
tage. The job was a stiff one, for we might ex-
pect certainly the majority to charge.

Therefore, when we finally deployed in skirmish
order and bore down on that patch of brush and
boulders, we were braced for the shock of battle.
We found nothing. Our men, however, signalled
that the lions had not left cover. After a little
search, however, we discovered a very shallow
depression nmning slantwise up the hill and back
of the cover. So slight it was that even the
glasses had failed to show it from below. The
lions had in all probability known about us from

THE FIFTEEN LIONS. 211

the start, and were aU the time engaged in with-
drawing after their leisurely fashion.

Of course we hunted for them ; in fact, we
spent two days at it ; but we never found trace
of them again. The country was too hard for
tracking. They had left Lucania. Probably by
the time we had completed our two hours of
flainking movement they were five miles away.
The presence of cubs would account for this. In
ordinary circumstances we should have had a
wonderful and exciting fight. But the sight of
those fifteen great beasts was one I shall never
forget.

After we had hunted Lucania thoroughly we
parted company with the HiUs, and returned to
Juja Farm.

Part V.
THE TSAVO RIVER.

XXV.

vol.

PART way up the narrow-gauge railroad
from the coast is a station called Voi.
On his way to the interior the traveller stops
there for an evening meal. It is served in a
high, wide stone room by white-robed Swahihs
under command of a very efficient and quiet
East Indian. The voyager steps out into the
darkness to look across the way upon the out-
lines of two great rounded hills against an
amethyst sky. That is all he ever sees of Voi,
for on the down trip he passes through it about
two o'clock in the morning.

At that particularly trying hour F. and I de-
scended, and attempted, by the light of lanterns,
to sort out twenty safari boys strange to us, and
miscellaneous camp stores. We did not entirely
succeed. Three men were carried on down the

216 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

line, and the fly to our tent was never seen
again.

The train disappeared. Our boys, shivering,
crept into comers. We took possession of the
dak-bungalow maintained by the railroad for
just such travellers as ourselves. It was simply
a high stone room, with three iron beds, and a
comer so cemented that one could poiu- pails
of water over one's self without wetting the
whole place. The beds were suppHed with mos-
quito canopies and strong wire springs. Over
these we spread our own bedding, smd thankfully
resmned our slumbers.

The morning discovered to us Voi as the sta-
tion, the district commissioner's house on a dis-
tant side hill, and a fairly extensive East Indian
bazaar. The keepers of the latter traded with
the natives. Inmiediately about the station grew
some flat shady trees. All else was dense thorn
scrub pressing close about the town. Opposite
were the tall, rounded mountains.

Nevertheless, in spite of its appearance, Voi
has its importance in the scheme of things.
From it, crossing the great Serengetti desert, runs
the track to Kilimanjaro and that part of Ger-
man East Africa. The Germans have as yet no
railroad ; so they must perforce patronize the

vol. 217

British line thus far, and then trek across. As the
Kilimanjaro district is one rich in natives and
trade, the track is well used. Most of the trans-
port is done by donkeys — either in carts or under
the pack saddle. As the distance from water to
water is very great, the journey is a hard one.
This fact, and the incidental consideration that
from fly and hardship the mortality in donkeys
is very heavy, pushes the freight rates high.
And that fact accounts for the motor car, which
has been my point of aim from the beginning of
this paragraph.

The motor car plies between Voi and the
German line at exorbitant rates. Our plan was
to have it take us and some galvanized water
tanks out into the middle of the desert and
diunp us down there. So after breakfast we
hunted up the owner.

He proved to be a very short, thick- set, blond
German youth who justified Weber and Fields.
In fact, he talked so exactly like those comedians
that my task in visualizing him to you is some-
what Hghtened. If all, instead of merely a
majority of my readers, had seen Weber and
Fields that task would vanish.

We explained our plan, and asked him his
price.

218 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

" Sefen hiindert and feefty rupees," * scud he
uncompromisingly.

He was abrupt, blunt, and insulting. As we
wanted transportation very much — though not
seven hundred and fifty rupees' worth — we
persisted. He offered an imperturbable take-it-
or-leave-it stolidity. The motor truck stood
near. I said something technical about the
engine ; then something more. He answered
these remarks, though grudgingly. I suggested
that it took a mighty good driver to motor
through this rough country. He mentioned a
particular hill. I proposed that we should try
the station restaurant for beer while he told me
about it. He gnmted, but headed for the
station.

For two hours we listened to the most blatant
boasting. He was a great driver ; he had driven
for M., the American millionaire ; for the Chinese
Ambassador to France ; for Grand-Duke Alexis ;
for the Kaiser himself ! We learned how he had
been the trusted familiar of these celebrities, how
on various occasions — all detailed at length — he
had been treated by them as an equal ; and he
told us sundry sly, slanderous, and disgusting
anecdotes of these worthies, his forefinger laid one

• Fifty pounds.

vol. 219

side his nose. When we finally got him worked
up to the point of going to get some excessively
bad photographs, " I haf daken myself ! " we be-
gan to have hopes. So we tentatively approached
once more the subject of transportation.

Then the basis of the trouble came out. One
Davis, M.P. from England, had also dealt with
our friend. Davis, as we reconstructed him,
was of the blunt type, with probably very Httle
feeling of democracy for those in subordinate
positions, and with, most certainly, a good deal of
insular and racial prejudice. Evidently a rather
vague bargain had been struck, and the motor
had set forth. Then ensued financial wranglings
and disputes as to terms. It ended by useless
hauteur on Davis's part, and inexcusable but
effective action by the German. For Davis found
himself dumped down on the Serengetti desert
and left there.

We heard all this in excruciatingly fimny
Weberandfieldese, many times repeated. The Ger-
man hterally beat his breast and cried aloud
against Davis. We miblushingly sacrificed a prob-
ably perfectly worthy Davis to present need, and
cried out against him too.

" Am I like one dog ? " demanded the German
ferventlv.

220 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

" Certainly not," we cried with equal fervour.
We both Uke dogs.

Then followed wearisomely reiterated assurances
that we, at least, knew how a gentleman should
be treated, and more boasting of proud con-
nections in the past. But the end of it was a
bargain of reasonable dimensions for ourselves,
our personal boys, and our loads. Under plea
of starting our safari boys off we left him, and
crept, with shattered nerves, around the comer
of the dak-bungalow. There we lurked, busy at
pretended affairs, until our friend swaggered away
to the Hindu quarters, where, it seems, he had
his residence.

About ten o'clock a small safari marched in
afoot. It had travelled 8dl of two nights across
the Thirst, and was glad to get there. The single
white man in charge had been three years alone
among the natives near Kilimanjaro, and he was
now out for a six months' vacation at home.
Two natives in the uniform of Sudanese troops
hovered near him very sorrowful. He splashed
into the water of the dak-bungalow, and then
introduced himself. We sat in teakwood easy-
chairs and talked all day. He was a most in-
teresting, likeable, and cordial man, at any stage
of the game. The game, by means of French

vol. 221

vermouth — of all drinks ! — progressed steadily.
We could hardly blame him for celebrating. By
the afternoon he wanted to give things away. So
insistent was he that F. finally accepted an ebony
walking-stick, and I an ebony knife inset with
ivory. If we had been the least bit xmscrupulous,
I am afraid the relatives at home would have
missed their African souvenirs. He went out vid
freight car, all by himself, seated regally in a
steamer chair between two wide-open side doors,
one native squatted on either side to see that he
did not lurch out into the landscape.

XXVI.
THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX.

AT ten o'clock the following morning we
■^^ started. On the high front seat, under an
awning, sat the German, F., find I. The body of
the truck was filled with safari loads, Memba Sasa,
Simba Mohammed, and F.'s boy, whose name I
have forgotten. The arrangement on the front
seat was due to a strike on the part of F.

" Look here," said he to me, " you've got to
sit next that rotter. We want him to bring us
back some water from the other side, and I'd
break his neck in ten minutes. You sit next him
and give him your motor car patter."

Therefore I took the middle seat and played
chorus. The road was not a bad one, as natural
moimtain roads go ; I have myself driven worse
in California. Om* man, however, liked to ex-
aggerate all the difficulties, and while doing it to

THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX. 223

point to himself with pride as a perfect
wonder. Between times he talked elementary
mechanics.

" The inflammation of the sparkling plugs ? "
was one of his expressions that did much to
compensate.

The country mounted steadily through the
densest thorn scrub I have ever seen. It
was about fifteen feet high, and so thick that
its penetration, save by made tracks, would
have been an absolute impossibihty. Our road
ran like a lane between two spiky jungles. Bold
bright mountains cropped up, singly and in short
ranges, as far as the eye could see them.

This sort of thing for twenty miles — more than
a hard day's journey on safari. We made it in
a Httle less than two hours; and the breeze of
our going kept us reasonably cool under our
awning. We began to appreciate the real value
of our diplomacy.

At noon we came upon a series of unexpectedly
green and clear small hills just under the frown
of a sheer rock chff. This oasis in the thorn was
occupied by a few scattered native huts and the
usual squalid Indian dukka, or trading store. At
this last our German friend stopped. From under
the seat he drew out a collapsible table and

224 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

a basket of provisions. These we were invited
to share. Diplomacy's highest triumph I

After lunch we surmounted our first steep
grade to the top of a ridge. This we found to be
the beginning of a long elevated plateau sweep-
ing gently downward to a distant heat mist, which
later experience proved a concealment to snow-
capped Kilimanjaro. This plateau also looked
to be covered with scrub. As we penetrated it,
however, we found the bushes were more or less
scattered, while in the wide, shallow dips between
the undulations were open grassy meadows.
There was no water. Isolated mountains or
peaked hills showed here and there in the illim-
itable spaces, some of them fairly hull down,
all of them toilsomely distant. This was the
Serengetti itself.

In this great extent of country somewhere were
game herds. They were exceedingly migratory,
and nobody knew very much about them. One
of the species would be the rare and localized
fringe-eared oryx. This beast was the principal
zoological end of our expedition; though, of
course, as always, we hoped for a chance lion.
Geographically we wished to find the source of
the Swanee River, and to follow that stream
down to its joining with the Tsavo.

THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX. 225

About half-past one we passed our safari boys.
We had intended to stop and replenish their
canteens from our water- drums ; but they told
us they had encountered a stray and astonishing
shower, and did not need more. We left them
trudging cheerfully across the desert. They had
travelled most of the night before, would do the
same in the night to come, and should reach
our camping-place about noon of the next day.

We ourselves stopped about four o'clock. In a
few hours we had come a hard three days' march.
Over the side went our goods. We bade the
German a very affectionate farewell ; for he was
still to fill our drums from one of the streams
out of Kilimanjaro and deliver them to us on his
return trip next day. We then all turned to and
made camp. The scrub desert here was exactly
Hke the scrub desert for the last sixty miles.

The next morning we were up and off before
sunrise. In this job time was a very large ele-
ment of the contract. We must find our fringe-
eared oryx before our water supply gave out.
Therefore we had resolved not to lose a moment.

The sunrise was most remarkable — lace work,
flat clouds, with burnished copper- coloured clouds
behind glowing through the lace. We admired it
for some few moments. Then one of us happened

226 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

to look higher. There, above the sky of the
horizon, apparently suspended in mid-air half-
way to the zenith, hung hke deUcate bubbles
the double snow-cloud peaks of Kilimanjaro.
Between them and the earth we could appar-
ently see clear sky. It was in reality, of course,
the blue-heat haze that rarely leaves these torrid
plains. I have seen many mountains in all
parts of the world, but none as fantastically in-
substantial ; as wonderfully lofty ; as gracefully
able to yield, before clouds and storms and sun-
rise glows, all the space in infinity they could
possibly use, and yet to tower above them serene
in an upper space of its own. Nearly every
morning of om* journey to come we enjoyed this
wonderful vision for an hour or so. Then the
mists closed in. The rest of the day showed us
a grayish sky along the western horizon, with
apparently nothing behind it.

In the meantime we were tramping steadily
ahead over the desert ; threading the thorn
scrub, crossing the wide shallow grass-grown
swales ; spying about us for signs of game. At
the end of three or four miles we came across
some ostrich and four hartebeeste. This en-
couraged us to think we might find other game
soon, for the hartebeeste is a gregarious animal.

THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX. 227

Suddenly we saw a medium- sized squat beast
that none of us recognized, trundling along like
a badger sixty yards ahead. Any creature not
easily identified is a scientific possibihty in Africa.
Therefore we fired at once. One of the bullets
hit his foreleg paw. Immediately this astonish-
ing small creatm-e turned and charged us ! If
his size had equalled his ferocity, he would have
been a formidable opponent. We had a Hvely
few minutes. He rushed us again and again,
uttering ferocious growls. We had to step high
and lively to keep out of his way. Between
charges he sat down and tore savagely at his
wounded paw. We wanted him as nearly per-
fect a specimen as possible, so tried to rap him
over the head with a club. Owing to remarkably
long teeth and claws, this was soon proved im-
practicable ; so we shot him. He weighed about
fifty pounds, and we subsequently learned that
he was a honey badger, an animal very rarely
captured.

We left the boys to take the whole skin and
skull of this beast, and strolled forward slowly.
The brush ended abruptly in a wide valley. It had
been burnt over, and the new grass was coming
up green. We gave one look, and sank back
into cover.

228 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

The sparse game of the immediate vicinity had
gathered to this fresh feed. A herd of harte-
beeste and gazelle were grazing, £ind five giraffe
adorned the sky-line. But what interested us
especiaUy was a group of about fifty cob-built
animals with the unmistakable rapier horns of
the oryx. We recognized them as the rarity we
desired.

The conditions were most unfavourable. The
cover nearest them gave a range of three hundred
yards, and even this would bring them directly
between us and the rising sun. There was no help
for it, however. We made our way to the bushes
nearest the herd, and I tried to align the blurs
that represented my sights. At the shot, in-
effective, they raced to the right across our
front. We lay low. As they had seen nothing
they wheeled and stopped after two hundred
yards of flight. This shift had brought the light
into better position. Once more I could define
my sights. From the sitting position I took
careful aim at the largest buck. He staggered
twenty feet and fell dead. The distance was just
381 paces. This shot was indeed fortunate, for
we saw no more fringe- eared oryx.

XXVII.
ACROSS THE SERENGETTI.

WE arrived in camp about noon, almost ex-
hausted with the fierce heat 8ind a six
hours' tramp, to find our German friend awaiting
us. By an irony of fate the drums of water he
had brought back with him were now unneces-
sary ; we had our oryx. However, we wearily
gave him limch and listened to his prattle, and
finally sped him on his way, hoping never to
see him again.

About three o'clock our men came in. We
doled out water rations, and told them to rest
in preparation for the morrow.

Late that night we were awakened by a creak-
ing and snorting and the flash of torches passing.
We looked out, to see a donkey transport toiling
slowly along, travelling thus at night to avoid
the terrific day heats. The two-wheeled carts
with their wild and savage drivers looked very

230 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

picturesque in the flickering lights. We envied
them vaguely their defined route that permitted
night travel, and sank to sleep.

In the morning, however, we foimd they had
left with us new responsibilities in the shape of
an elderly Somali, very sick, and down with
the fever. This was indeed a responsibihty. It
was manifestly impossible for us to remain there
with him ; we should all die of thirst. It was
equally impossible to take him with us, for he was
quite unfit to travel under the sun. Finally, as
the best solution of a bad business, we left him
five gallons of water, some food, and some quinine,
together with the advice to rest until night, and
then to follow his companions along the beaten
track. What between illness and wild beasts his
chances did not look very good, but it was the
best we could do for him. This incident exem-
plifies well the cruelty of this singular people.
They probably abandoned the old man because
his groans annoyed them, or because one of
them wanted to ride in his place on the donkey
cart.*

We struck off as early as possible through the
thorn scrub on a compass bearing that we hoped

* I have just heard that this old man survived, and has been
singing our praises in Nairobi as the saviour of his life.

ACROSS THE SERENGETTI. 231

would bring us to a reported swamp at the head
of the Swanee River. The Swanee River was
one of the sources of the Tsavo. Of course this
was guesswork. We did not know certainly the
location of the swamp, its distance from us, nor
what lay between us and it. However, we loaded
all our transportable vessels with water, and set
forth.

The scrub was aU ahke ; sometimes thinner,
sometimes thicker. We marched by compass until
we had raised a conical hill above the horizon,
and then we bore just to the left of that. The
surface of the groimd was cut by thousands of
game tracks. They were all very old, however,
made after a rain ; and it was evident the game
herds venture into this country only when it con-
tains rain-water. After two hours, however, we
did see one solitary hartebeeste, whom we greeted
£is an old friend in desolation. Shortly after-
wards we ran across one oribi, which I shot for
our own table.

At the end of two hours we sat down. The
safari of twenty men was a very miscellaneous
lot, consisting of the rag-tag-and-bobtail of the
bazaars picked up in a hm*ry. They were soft
and weak, and they straggled badly. The last
weakling — prodded along by one of our two

232 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

askaris — limped in only at the end of half an
hour. Then we took a new start.

The sun was by now up and hot. The work
was difficult enough at best, but the weight of the
tropics was now cast in the scale. Twice more
within the next two hours we stopped to let
every one catch up. Each time this required a
longer interval. In the thorn it was absolutely
essential to keep in touch with every member of
the party. A man once lost would likely remeiin
so, for we could not aflford to endanger all for the
sake of one.

Time wore on until noon. Had it not been for a
thin film of haze that now overspread the sky, I
think the sun would have proved too much for
some of the men. Foiu* or five straggled so very
badly that we finally left them in charge of one of
our two askaris, with instructions to follow on
as fast as they could. In order to make this
possible, we were at pains to leave a well-marked
trail.

After this fashion, slowly, and with growing
anxiety for some of the men, we drew up on our
landmark hill. There oiu* difficulties increased ;
the thorn brush thickened. Only by a series of
short zigzags, and by taking advantage of every
rhino trail going in our direction, could we make

ACROSS THE SERENGETTI.

our way through it at all ; while to men carrying
burdens on their heads the tangle aloft must have
been fairly maddening. So slow did our progress
necessarily become, and so difficult was it to keep
in touch with everybody, that F. and I finally
halted for consultation. It was decided that I
should push on ahead with Memba Sasa to make
certain that we were not on the wrong line, while
F. and the askaris struggled with the safari.

Therefore I took my compass bearing afresh,
and plunged into the scrub. The sensation was
of hitting solid ground after a long walk through
sand. We seemed fairly to shoot ahead and out
of sight. Whenever we came upon earth we
marked it deeply with our heels ; we broke
twigs downwards, and laid hastily- snatched
bunches of grass to help the trail we were leav-
ing for the others to follow. This, in spite of
our compass, was a very devious track. Besides,
the thorn bushes were patches of spiky aloe
coming into red flower, and the spears of sisal.

After an hour's steady, swift walking the
general trend of the country began to slope
downwards. This argued a watercourse between
us and the hills around Kilimanjaro. There could
be no doubt that we would cut it ; the only

question was whether it, like so many desert

8a

234 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

watercourses, might not prove empty. We pushed
on the more rapidly. Then we caught a glimpse,
through a chance opening, of the tops of trees
below us. After another hour we suddenly
burst from the scrub to a strip of green grass
beyond which were the great trees, the palms, and
the festooned vines of a watercourse. Two
bush bucks plunged into the thicket as we ap-
proached, and fifteen or twenty mongooses sat
up as straight and stiff as so many picket pins
the better to see us.

For a moment my heart sank. The low under-
growth beneath the trees apparently swept un-
broken from where we stood to the low bank
opposite. It was exactly like the shallow, damp,
but waterless ravines at home, filled with black-
berry vines. We pushed forward, however, and
found ourselves looking down on a smooth, swift
flowing stream.

It was not over six feet wide, grown close
with vines and grasses, but so very deep and
swift and quiet that an extraordinary volume of
water passed, as through an artificial aqueduct.
Furthermore, unlike most African streams, it was
crystal clear. We plimged our faces and wrists
in it, and took long, thankful draughts. It was
all most grateful after the scorching desert. The

ACROSS THE SERENGETTI. 235

fresh trees meeting in canopy overhead were full
of monkeys and bright birds; festooned vines
swmig their great ropes here and there ; long
heavy grass carpeted miderfoot.

After we had rested a few minutes we filled our
empty canteens, and prepared to start back for
our companions. But while I stood there, Memba
Sasa — good, faithful Memba Sasa — seized both
canteens and darted away.

" Lie down ! " he shouted back at me, " I will
go back."

Without protest — which would have been futile
anyway — I sank down on the grass. I was very
tired. A little breeze followed the watercourse ;
the grass was soft ; I would have given anything
for a nap. But in wild Africa a nap is not
healthy ; so I drowsily watched the mongooses
that had again come out of seclusion, and the
monkeys, and the birds. At the end of a long
time, and close to sundown, I heard voices. A
moment later F., Memba Sasa, and about three-
quarters of the men came in. We all, white and
black, set to work to make camp. Then we built
smudges and fired guns in the faint hope of
guiding in the stragglers. As a matter of fact
we had not the slightest faith in these expedients.
Unless the men were hopelessly lost they should

236 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

be able to follow our trail. They might be almost
anywhere out in that awful scrub. The only
course open to them would be to climb thorn
trees for the night. Next day we would organize
a formal search for them.

In the meantime, almost dead from exhaustion,
we sprawled about everywhere. The men, too
dispirited even to start their own camp-fires, sat
around resting as do boxers between rounds.
Then to us came Memba Sasa, who had already
that day made a double journey, and who should
have been the most tired of all.

" Bwana," said he, " if you will lend me
Winchi,* and a lantern, I will bring in the men."

We lent him his requirements, and he de-
parted. Hours later he returned, carefully leaned
" Winchi " in the comer of the tent, deposited
the lantern, and stood erect at attention.

" WeU, Memba Sasa," I inquired.

" The men are here."

"They were far?"

" Very far."

" Vema, Memba Sasa, assanti sana." f

That was his sole — and sufficient — reward.

♦ His name for the '405 Winchester.

t " Very good, Memba Sasa, thanks very much."

XXVIII.
DOWN THE RIVER.

RELIEVED now of all anxiety as to water, we
had merely to make oiu* way downstream.
First, however, there remained the interesting
task of determining its source.

Accordingly next day we and our gunbearers
left the boys to a well- earned rest, and set out
upstream. At first we followed the edge of the
river jungle, tramping over hard hot earth, wind-
ing in and out of growths of thorn scrub and bril-
liant aloes. We saw a herd of impallas gliding
like phantoms ; and as we stood in need of meat,
I shot at one of them but missed. The air was
very hot and moist. At five o'clock in the morn-
ing the thermometer had stood at 78° ; and by
noon it had mounted to 106°. In addition the
atmosphere was filled with the humidity that
later in the day was to break in extraordinary

238 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

deluges. We moved slowly, but even then our
garments were literally dripping wet.

At the end of three miles the stream bed
widened. We came upon beautiful, spacious,
open lawns of from eighty to one hundred acres
apiece, separated from each other by narrow
strips of tall forest trees. The grass was high,
and waved in the breeze Hke planted grain ; the
boundary trees resembled artificial wind-breaks
of eucalyptus or Normandy poplar. One might
expect a white ranch house beyond some low
cliunp of trees, and chicken runs, and corrals.

Along these apparent boundaries of forest trees
oiu" stream divided, and divided again, so that
we were actually looking upon what we had come
to seek — the source of the Swanee branch of
the Tsavo River. In these peaceful, protected
meadows was it cradled. From them it sprang
full size out into the African wilderness.

A fine impalla buck grazed in one of these fields.
I crept as near him as I could behind one of the
wind-break rows of trees. It was not very near,
and for the second time I missed. Thereupon
we decided two things : that we were not really
meat hungry, and that yesterday's hard work
was not conducive to to-day's good shooting.

Having thus accomplished the second object of

DOWN THE RIVER. 239

our expedition, we returned to camp. From
that time begins a regular sequence of events on
which I look back with the keenest of pleasure.
The two constant factors were the river and the
great dry country on either side. Day after
day we followed down the one, and we made
brief excursions out into the other. Each night
we camped near the sound of the swift running
water, where the winds rustled in the palms,
the acacias made lacework across the skies,
and the jungle crouched in velvet blackness
close to earth like a beast.

Our life in its routine was regular ; in its
details bizarre and full of the unexpected. Every
morning we arose an hour before day, and ate
by lantern light and the gleam of fires. At the
first gray we were afoot and on the march.
F. and I, with our gunbearers, then pushed
ahead down the river, leaving the men to come
along as fast or as slowly as they pleased. After
about six hours or so of marching, we picked out
a good camp site, and lay down to await the
safari. By two o'clock in the afternoon camp
was made. Also it was very hot. After a light
lunch we stripped to the skin, lay on our cots
underneath the mosquito canopies, and tried
to doze or read. The heat at this time of day

240 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

was blighting. About four o'clock, if we hap-
pened to be inspired by energy, one or the other
of us strolled out at right angles to the stream
to see what we could see. The evening was
tepid and beautiful. Bathed and py jama-clad
we lolled in our canvas chairs, smoking, chatting,
or listening to the innumerable voices of the
night.

Such was the simple and almost invariable
routine of our days. But enriching it, varying
it, disguising it even — as rain-squalls, sunshine,
cloud shadow, and imexpected winds modify the
landscape so well known from a study window
— were the incredible incidents and petty ad-
ventures of African travel.

The topography of the river itself might be
divided very roughly into three : the headwater
country down to its junction with the Tsavo,
the palm- elephant-grass stretch, and the gorge
and hill district just before it crosses the rail-
road.

The headwater country is most beautiful.
The stream is not over ten feet wide, but very
deep, swift, and clear. It flows between defined
banks and is set in a narrow strip of jimgle. In
places the bed widens out to a carpet of the
greenest green grass sown with flowers ; at other

DOWN THE RIVER. 241

places it offers either mysterious thickets, spacious
cathedrals, or snug bowers. Immediately be-
yond the edge of this river jimgle begins the
thorn scrub, more or less dense. Distant single
mountains or buttes serve as landmarks in a
brush-grown, gently rising, strongly rolling
country. Occasional alluvial flats draw back
to low cliffs not over twenty feet high.

After the junction of the Tsavo, palms of
various sorts replace to a large extent the forest
trees. Naturally also the stream widens and
flows more slowly. Outside the palms grow
tall elephant-grass and bush. Our marching had
generally to be done in the narrow, neutral space
between these two growths. It was pleasant
enough, with the river snatching at the trailing
branches, and the birds and animals rustling
away. Beyond the elephant-grass flats low
ridges ran down to the river, varying in width,
but carrying always with them the dense thorn.
Between them ran recesses, sometimes three or
four himdred acres in extent, high with elephant-
grass or little trees like alders. So much for the
immediate prospect on oiu" right as we marched.
Across the river to our left were huge riven
mountains, with great cliffs and caiions. As we
followed necessarily every twist and turn of the

242 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

river, sometimes these mountains were directly
ahead of us, then magically behind, so that we
thought we had passed them by. But the next
hour threw them again across our trail. The
ideal path would, of course, have cut across all
the bends and ridges ; but the thorn of the
ridges and the elephant-grass of the flats for-
bade it. So we marched ten miles to gain four.

After days of struggle and deception we passed
those mountains. Then we entered a new type
of country where the Tsavo ran in canons between
hills. The high cliffs often towered far above us ;
we had to pick our way along narrow river
ledges ; again the river ran like a trout stream
over riffles and rapids, while we sauntered along
cleared banks beneath the trees. Had we not
been making a forced march under terrific heat
at just that time, this last phase of the river
might have been the pleasantest of all.

Throughout the whole course of our journey
the rhinoceros was the most abundant of the
larger animals. The indications of old tracks
proved that at some time of the year, or under
some different conditions, great herds of the more
gregarious plains antelope and zebra visited the
river, but at the time of our visit they were absent.
The rhinoceroses, however, in incredible munbers

DOWN THE RIVER. 243

came regularly to water. Paradoxically, we saw
very few of them, and enjoyed comparative
immunity from their charges. This was due to
the fact that their habits and ours swung in
different orbits. The rhinoceros, after drinking,
took to the hot, dry thorn scrub in the low hills ;
and as he drank at night, we rarely encountered
him in the river bottoms where we were marching.
This was very lucky, for the cover was so dense
that a meeting must necessarily be at close
quarters. Indeed these large and truculent
beasts were rather a help than a hindrance, for
we often made use of their wide, clear paths to
penetrate some particularly distressing jimgle.
However, we had several small adventures with
them : just enough to keep us alert in rounding
corners or approaching bushes — and nine-tenths
of our travel was bushes and comers. The big,
flat footsteps, absolutely fresh in the dust, padded
methodically ahead of us down the only way
until it seemed that we could not fail to plump
upon their maker around the next bend. We
crept forward foot by foot, every sense alert,
finger on trigger. Then after a time the spoor
turned off to the right, towards the hills. We
straightened our backs and breathed a sigh of
rehef. This happened over and over again.

244 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

At certain times of year also elephants frequent
the banks of the Tsavo in considerable numbers.
We saw many old signs, and once came upon
the fresh path of a small herd. The great beasts
had passed by that very morning. We gazed
with considerable awe on limbs snatched bodily
from trees ; on flat-topped acacias a foot in
diameter pulled up by the roots and stood up-
side down ; on tree tnmks twisted like ropes.

Of the g£ime by far the most abimdant were
the beautiful red impalla. We caught glimpses of
their graceful bodies ghding in and out of sight
through the bushes ; or came upon them stand-
ing in small openings, their delicate ears pointed
to us. They and the tiny dikdik furnished our
table; and an occasional water-buck satisfied
the men. One day we came on one of the latter
beasts soimd asleep in a tiny open space. He was
lying down, and his nose rested against the earth,
just like a very old family horse in a paddock.

Besides these common species were bush-buck,
wart-hog, lesser kudu, giraffe, and leopard. The
bush-buck we jumped occasionally quite near at
hand. They ducked their heads low and rushed
tearingly to the next cover. The leopard we
heard sighing every night, and saw their pad
marks next day ; but only twice did we catch

DOWN THE RIVER. 245

glimpses of them. One morning we came upon
the fresh-killed carcass of a female lesser kudu
from which, evidently, we had driven the slayer.

These few species practically completed the
game hst. They were sufficient for our needs ;
and the lesser kudu was a prize much desired for
our collection. But by far the most interesting
to me were the smaller animals, the birds, and
the strange, innumerable insects.

We saw no natives in the whole course of our
journey.

The valley of the river harboxu'ed many
monkeys. They seemed to be of two species, blue
and brown, but were equally noisy and amusing.
They retired ahead of our advance with many
remarks, or slipped past us to the rear without any
comments whatever. When we made camp they
retired with indignant protests, and when we had
quite settled down they returned as near as they
dared.

One very hot afternoon I lay on my canvas cot
in the open, staring straight upward into the
overarching greenery of the trees. This is a
very pleasant thing to do. The beautiful up-
spreading, outstretching of the tree branches and
twigs intrigue the eye ; the leaves make fascina-
ting, hypnotically waving patterns against a very

24^ AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

blue sky ; and in the chambers and galleries of
the upper world the birds and insects cany on
varied businesses of their own. After a time
the comer of my eye caught a quick movement
far to the left and in a shadow. At once I turned
my attention that way. After minute scrutiny
I at length made out a monkey. Evidently
considering himself quite unobserved, he was
slowly and with great care stalking our camp.
Inch by inch he moved, taking skilful advantage
of every bit of cover, flattening himself along
the limbs, hunching himself up behind bunches
of leaves, until he had gained a big limb directly
overhead. There he stretched flat, staring down
at the scene that had so strongly aroused his
curiosity. I lay there for over two hours read-
ing and dozing. My friend aloft never stirred.
When dusk fell he was still there. Some time
after dark he must have regained his band, for in
the morning the limb was vacant.

Now comes the part of this story that really
needs a witness, not to veracity perhaps, but to
accuracy of observations. Fortunately I have
F. About noon next day the monkey returned
to his point of observation. He used the same
precautions as to concealment; he followed his
route of the day before ; he proceeded directly

DOWN THE RIVER. 247

to his old conning tower on the big hmb. It did
not take him quite so long to get there, for he
had already scouted out the trail. And close at
his heels followed two other monkeys ! They
crawled where he crawled; they crouched
where he crouched ; they hid where he hid ;
they flattened themselves out by him on the big
limb, and all three of them passed the afternoon
gazing down on the strange and fascinating things
below. Whether these newcomers were part of
the first one's family out for a treat, or whether
they were Cook's Tourists of the Jungle in charge
of my friend's competence as a guide, I do not
know.

Farther down the river F. and I stopped for
some time to watch the crossing of forty-odd of
the little blue monkeys. The whole band clam-
bered to near the top of a taU tree growing by the
water's edge. There, one by one, they ran out
on a straight overhanging limb and cast them-
selves into space. On the opposite bank of the
river, and leaning well out, grew a small springy
bush. Each monkey landed smash in the middle
of this, clasped it with all four hands, swayed
alarmingly, recovered, and scampered ashore.
It was rather a nice problem in ballistics this,
for a mistake in calculation of a foot in distance

248 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

or a pound in push would land Mr. Monkey in the
water. And the joke of it was that directly
beneath that bush lay two hungry-looking croco-
diles ! As each tiny body hurtled through the
air I'll swear a look of hope came into the eyes
of those crocs. We watched until the last had
made his leap. There were no mistakes. The
joke was against the crocodiles.

We encoimtered quite a number of dog-faced
baboons. These big apes always retreated very
slowly and noisily. Scouts in the rearguard
were continually ascending small trees or bushes
for a better look at us, then leaping down to
make dispareiging remarks. One lot seemed to
show such variation in colour from the usual
that we shot one. The distance was about two
hundred and fifty yards. Immediately the whole
band — a himdred or so strong — dropped on all
fours and started in our direction. This was
rather terrifying. However, as we stood firm,
they slowly came to a halt at about seventy
yards, barked and chattered for a moment, then
hopped away to right and left.

XXEX.

THE LESSER KUDU.

ABOUT eight o'clock, the evening of our first
^^ day on the Swanee, the heat broke in a
tropical downpour. We heard it coming from
a long distance, like the roar of a great wind.
The velvet blackness, star hung, was troubled
by an invisible blurring mist, evidenced only
through a subtle effect on the subconsciousness.
Every leaf above us, in the circle of our firelight,
depended absolutely motionless from its stem.
The insects had ceased their shrilling ; the night
birds their chirping ; the animals, great and small,
their callings or their stealthy rustling to and fro.
Of the world of sound there remained only the
crackling of our fires, the tiny singing of the blood
in our ears, and that far-off portentous roar.
Our simple dispositions were made. Trenches
had been dug around the tents ; the pegs had
been driven well home ; our stores had been put

250 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

in shelter. We waited silently, puffing away at
our pipes.

The roaring increased in volume. Beneath it
we began to hear the long, rolling crash of
thunder. Overhead the stars, already dimmed,
were suddenly blotted from existence. Then
came the rain, in a hteral deluge, as though
the god of floods had turned over an entire
reservoir with one twist of his mighty hand. Our
fire went out instantly ; the whole world went out
with it. We lay on our canvas cots unable to see
a foot beyond our tent opening ; unable to
hear anything but the insistent, terrible drum-
ming over our heads ; imable to think of anjrthing
through the tumult of waters. As a man's body
might struggle from behind a waterfall through
the torrents, so our imaginations, half drowned,
managed dimly to picture forth Uttle bits — the
men huddled close in their tiny tents, their
cowled blginkets over their heads. All the rest
of the universe had gone.

After a time the insistent beat and rush of
waters began to wear through our patience. We
willed that this wracking tiunult should cease;
we willed it with all the force that was in us.
Then, as this proved vain, we too humped our spir-
itual backs, cowled our souls with patience, and

THE LESSER KUDU. 251

waited dumbly for the force of the storm to spend
itself. Our faculties were quite as effectually
drowned out by the unceasing roar and crash
of the waters as our bodily comfort would have
been had we lacked the protection of our tent.

Abruptly the storm passed. It did not die
away slowly in the diminuendo of ordinary
storms. It ceased as though the reservoir had
been tipped back again. The rapid drip, drip,
drip of waters now made the whole of sound ;
all the rest of the world lay breathless. Then,
inside our tent, a cricket struck up bravely.

This homely, cheerful little soimd roused us.
We went forth to count damages and to put our
house in order. The men hunted out dry wood
and made another fire ; the creatures of the
jungle and the stars above them ventured forth.

Next morning we marched into a world swept
clean. The ground was as smooth as though a
new broom had gone over it. Every track now
was fresh, and meant an animal near at hand.
The bushes and grasses were hung with jewels.
Merry little showers shook down from trees shar-
ing a joke with some tiny wind. White steam
rose from a moist, fertile-looking soil. The
smell of greenhouses was in the air. Looking
back, we were stricken motionless by the sight of

252 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Kilimanjaro, its twin peaks suspended against
a clean blue sky, fresh snow mantling its shoulders.

Tliis day, so cheeringly opened, was destined
to fulfil its promise. In the dense scrub dwells
a shy and rare animal called the lesser kudu,
specimens of which we greatly desired. The
beast keeps to the thickest and driest cover,
where it is impossible to see fifty yards ahead,
but where the slightest movement breaks one of
the numberless dry interlacements of which the
place seems made. To move really quietly one
could not cover over a half-mile in an hour. As
the countryside extends a thousand square miles
or more, and the lesser kudu is rare, it can be
seen that hunting them might have to be a slow
and painful process. We had twice seen their
peculiar tracks.

On this morning, however, we caught a glimpse
of the beast itself. A flash of gray, with an
impression of the characteristic harness-like
stripes — ^that was all. The trail, in the soft
ground, was of course very plain. I left the
others and followed it into the brush. As usual
the thorn scrub was so thick that I had to stoop
and twist to get through it at all, and so brittle
that the least false move made a crackling like a
fire. The rain of the night before had, however.

THE LESSER KUDU. 253

softened the dSbris lying on the ground. I
moved forward as quickly as I could, half suffo-
cated in the steaming heat of the dense thicket.
After three or four hundred yards the beast fell
into a walk, so I immediately halted. I reasoned
that after a few steps at this gait he would look
back to see whether or not he was followed. If
his scouting showed him nothing he might throw
off suspicion. After ten minutes I crept for-
ward again. The spoor showed my surmises
to be correct, for I came to where the animal had
turned, behind a small bush, and had stood for
a few minutes. Taking up the tracks from this
point, I was delighted to find that the kudu
had forgotten its fear, and was browsing. At
the end of five minutes more of very careful
work, I was fortimate enough to see it, feeding
from the top of a small bush thirty-five yards
away. The raking shot from the Springfield
dropped it in its tracks.

It proved to be a doe, a great prize of course,
but not to be compared with the male. We
skinned her carefully, and moved on, delighted
to have the species.

Our luck was not over, however. At the end
of six hours we picked om* camp in a pretty grove
by the swift-running stream. There we sat down

254 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

to await the safari. The tree-tops were full of
both the brown and blue monkeys, baboons
barked at us from a distance, the air was musical
with many sweet birds. Big thunder- clouds were
gathering around the horizon.

The safari came in. Mohammed immediately
sought us out to report, in great excitement, that
he had seen five kudu across the stream. He
claimed to have watched them even after the
safari had passed, and that they had not been
alarmed. The chance was slight that those
kudu could be found, but still it was a chance.
Accordingly we rather reluctantly gave up our
plans for a lo£if and a nap. Mohammed said the
place was an hour back ; we had had six hours'
march already. However, about two o'clock
we set out. Before we had arrived quite at the
spot we caught a glimpse of the five kudu as they
dashed across a tiny opening ahead of us. They
had moved downstream and crossed the river.

It seemed rather hopeless to follow them into
that thick country once they had been alarmed,
but the prize was great. Therefore Memba Sasa
and I took up the trail. We crept forward a mile,
very quiet, very tense — very sweaty. Then sim-
ultaneously, through a chtmce opening and a
long distance away, we caught a patch of gray

THE LESSER KUDU. 255

with a single transverse white stripe. There was
no chance to ascertain the sex of the beast, nor
what part of its anatomy was thus exposed. I
took a bull's eye chance on that patch of gray ;
had the luck to hit it in the middle. The animal
went down. Memba Sasa leapt forward like a
madman ; I could not begin to keep pace with
him. When I had struggled through the thorn,
I foimd him dancing with dehght.

" Monuome, bwana ! buck, master ! " he cried
as soon as he saw me, and made a spiral gesture
in imitation of the male's beautiful corkscrew
horns.

While the men prepared the trophy, F. and I
followed on after the other four to see what they
would do, and speedily came to the conclusion
that we were lucky to land two of the wily
beasts. The four ran compactly together and
in a wide curve for several hundred yards. Then
two faced directly back, while the other two, one
on either side, made a short detour out and back
to guard the flanks.

We did not get back to camp until after dark.
A tremendous pair of electric storms were volley-
ing and roaring at each other across the space of
night ; leopards were crying ; a pack of wild dogs
were barking vociferously. The camp, as we

256 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

approached it, was a globe of light in a bower of
darkness. The fire, shining and flickering on the
under sides of the leaves, lent them a strangely
unreal stage -like appearance ; the porters, their
half-naked bodies and red blankets catching the
blaze, roasted huge chunks of meat over Httle
fires.

We ate a belated supper in comfort, peace, and
satisfaction. Then the storms joined forces and
fell upon us.

XXX.

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY.

WE journeyed slowly on down the stream.
Interesting things happened to us. The
impressions of that journey are of two sorts :
the little isolated details and the general back-
ground of our day's routine, with the gray dawn,
the great heats of the day, the blessed evening
and its fireflies; the thundering of heaven's
artillery, and the downpour of torrents ; the
hot, high, crackling thorn scrub into which we
made excursions ; the swift-flowing river with
its palms and jungles ; outleaning palms trailing
their fronds just within the snatch of the flood
waters ; wide flats in the embrace of the river
bends, or extending into the low hills, grown thick
with lush green and threaded with rhinoceros
paths ; the huge sheer cliff mountains over the
way ; distant single hills far down. The mild
discomfort of the start before dayHght clearly

258 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

revealed the thorns and stumbling blocks; the
buoyant cheerfulness of the first part of the day,
with the grouse rocketing straight up out of the
elephant-grass, the birds singing everywhere, and
the beasts of the jungle still a-graze at the edges ;
the growing weight of the sun, as though a great
pressing hand were leiid upon the shoulders ; the
suffocating, gasping heat of afternoon, and the
gathering piling black and white clouds ; the
cool evening in pyjamas with the fireflies flickering
among the bushes, the river singing, and little
breezes wamdering like pattering raindrops in
the dry palm leaves — all these, by repetition of
main elements, blend in my memory to form a
single image. To be sure each day the rock
pinnacles over the way changed slightly their
compass bearings, and little variations of contour
lent variety to the procession of days. But in
essentials they were of one kin.

But here and there certain individual scenes
and incidents stand out clearly and alone. With-
out reference to my notebook I could not
tell you their chronological order, nor the days
of their happening. They occurred, without
correlation.

Thus one afternoon at the loafing hour, when

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY. 259

F. was sound asleep under his mosquito bar, and
I in my canvas chair was trying to catch the
breeze from an approaching deluge, to me came
a total stranger in a large turban. He was
without arms or baggage of any sort, an alien in
a strange and savage country.

" Jambo, bwana m'kubwa (greeting, great
master) ! " said he.

" Jambo," said I, as though his existence were
not in the least surprising, and went on reading.
This showed him that I was indeed a great
master.

After a suitable interval I looked up.

" Wataka neenee (what do you want) ? " I
demanded.

" Nataka sema qua heri (I want to say good-
bye)," said this astonishing individual.

I had, until that moment, been quite unaware
of his existence. As he had therefore not yet
said " How do you do," I failed to fathom his
reasons for wanting to say " good-bye." How-
ever, far be it from me to deny any one innocent
pleasure, so I gravely bade him good-bye, and
he disappeared into the howling wilderness
whence he had come.

One afternoon we came upon two lemurs

260 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

seated gravely side by side on a horizontal limb
ten feet up a thorn tree. They contemplated us
with the preternatural gravity of very young
children, and without the slightest sign of fear.
We coveted them as pets for Billy, but soon
discovered that their apparent tameness was
grounded on good, soHd common sense. The

thorns of that thorn tree ! We left them

sitting upright, side by side.

A Uttle farther on, and up a dry earthy hill-
side, a medium- sized beast leapt from an eroded
place fairly under my feet and made off with a
singularly familiar kiyi. It was a strange-looking
animal, apparently brick red in colour. When I
had collected myself I saw it was a wild dog.
It had been asleep in a warm hollow of red clay,
and had not awakened until I was fairly upon it.
We had heard these beasts nearly every night,
but this was the first we had seen. Some days
later we came upon the entire pack drinking at
the river. They leapt suddenly across our front
eighty yards away, their heads all turned towards
us truculently, barking at us like so many watch
dogs. They made off, but not as though particu-
larly alarmed.

One afternoon I had wounded a good wart-hog

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY. 261

across the river, and had gone downstream to
find a dry way over. F., more enthusiastic, had
plunged in and promptly attacked the wart-hog.
He was armed with the English service revolver
shooting the -455 Ely cartridge. It is a very
short, stubby bit of ammunition. I had often cast
doubt on its driving power as compared to the
•45 Colt, for example. F., as a loyal Enghshman,
had, of course, defended his army's weapon.
When I reached the centre of disturbance I
found that F. had emptied his revolver three
times — eighteen shots — into the head and
forequarters of that wart-hog without much
effect. Incidentally the wart-hog had given
him a good lively time, charging again and
again. The weapon has not nearly the
shock power of even our -38 service — a
cartridge classified as too fight for serious
business.

One afternoon I gave my shotgun to one of the
porters to carry afield, remarking facetiously to
all and sundry that he looked like a gunbearer.
After twenty minutes we ran across a rhinoceros.
I spent some time trying to manoeuvre into posi-
tion for a photograph of the beast. However,
the attempt failed. We managed to dodge his

262 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

rush. Then, after the excitement had died, we
discovered the porter and the shotgun up a tree.
He descended rather shamefaced. Nobody said
anything about it. A half-hour later we came
upon another rhinoceros. The beast was visible
at some distance, and downhill. Nevertheless
the porter moved a httle nearer a tree. This
was too much for Memba Sasa. All the rest of
the afternoon he " ragged " that porter in much
the same terms we would have employed in
the same circumstances.

" That place ahead," said he, " looks like a
good place for rhinoceros. Perhaps you'd better
climb a tree."

" There is a dikdik ; a bush is big enough to
climb for him."

" Are you afraid of jackals, too ? "

The fireflies were our regular evening com-
panions. We caught one or two of them for the
pleasure of watching them alternately igniting
and extinguishing their little lamps. Even when
we put them in a bottle they still kept up their
performance bravely.

But besides them we had an inmiense variety of
evening visitors. Beetles of the most inconceiv-
able shapes and colours, all sorts of moths, and

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY. 263

numberless strange things — leaf insects, walking-
stick insects (exactly like dry twigs), and the fierce,
tall, praying mantis with their mock air of meek-
ness and devotion. Let one of the other insects
stray within reach and their piety was quickly
enough abandoned ! One beetle about three-
eighths of an inch across was oblong in shape and
of pure ghttering gold. His wing covers, on the
other hand, were round and transparent. The
effect was of a jewel under a tiny glass case.
Other beetles were of red dotted with black,
or of black dotted with red ; they sported stripes,
or circles of plain colours ; they wore long,
slender antennae, or short knobby horns ; they
carried rapiers or pinchers, long legs or short.
In fact they ran the gamut of grace and horror,
so that an inebriate would find here a great rest
for the imagination.

After we had gone to bed we noticed more
pleasantly our cricket. He piped up, you may
remember, the night of the first great storm.
That evening he took up his abode in some fold
or seam of our tent, and there stayed throughout
all the rest of the journey. Every evening he
timed up cheerfully, and we dropped to sleep to
the sound of his homelike piping. We grew very
fond of him, as one does of everything in this

264 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

wild and changing country that can represent
a stable point of habitude.

Nor must I forget one evening when all of a
sudden out of the darkness came a tremendous
hollow booming, like the beating of war drums
or the bellowing of some strange great beast.
At length we identified the performer as an
unfamiliar kind of frog I

Ea,ch day the pinnacles over the way changed slightly
their compass bearings.

XXXI.

THE LOST SAFARI.

WE were possessed of a map of sorts, con-
sisting mostly of wide blank spaces, with
an occasional tentative mountain, or the probable
course of streams marked thereon. The only
landmark that interested us was a single round
peak situated south of our river and at a point
just before we should cross the railroad at Tsavo
Station. There came a day when, from the top
of a hill where we had climbed for the sake of
the outlook, we thought we recognized that peak.
It was about five miles away as the crow flies.

Then we returned to camp and made the fatal
mistake of starting to figure. We ought to cover
the distance, even with the inevitable twists and
turns, in a day ; the tri- weekly train passed
through Tsavo the following night ; if we could
catch that we would save a two days' wait for the

next train. You follow the thought. We arose

9a

^66 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

very early the next morning to get a good start
on our forced march.

There is no use in spinning out a sad tale.
We passed what we thought must be our land-
mark hill just eleven times. The map showed
only one butte ; as a matter of fact there were
dozens. At each disappointment we had to
reconstruct our theories. It is the nature of man
to do this hopefully — Tsavo Station must be just
around the next bend. We marched six hours
without pause ; then began to save ourselves a
little. By all the gods of logical reasoning we
proved Tsavo just beyond a certain fringe of
woods. When we arrived we found that there
the river broke through a range of hills by way
of a deep gorge. It was a change from the
everlasting scrub, with its tiunbling waters, its
awful cliffs, its luxuriant tropical growths ; but
it was so much the more difficult to make our
way through. Beyond the gorge we found any
amount of hills, kopjes, buttes, sugar loaves, etc.,
each isolated from its fellows, each perfectly
competent to serve as the map's single landmark.

We should have camped, but we were very
anxious to catch that train ; and we were con-
vinced that now, after all that work, Tsavo
could not be far away. It would be ridiculous

THE LOST SAFARI. 267

and mortifying to find we had camped almost
within sight of our destination !

The heat was very bad and the force of the sim
terrific. It seemed to possess actual physical
weight, and to press us down from above. We
filled our canteens many times at the swift-
running stream, and emptied them as often. By
two o'clock F. was getting a httle wobbly from
the sun. We talked of stopping, when an un-
expected thunder shower rolled out from behind
the mountains, and speedily overcast the entire
heavens. This shadow reUeved the stress. F.,
much revived, insisted that we proceed. So
we marched and passed many more hills.

In the meantime it began to rain, after the
whole-hearted tropical fashion. In two minutes
we were drenched to the skin. I kept my
matches and notebook dry by placing them m
the crown of my cork helmet. After the intense
heat this tepid downpour seemed to us deHcious.

And then, quite unexpectedly, of course, we
came around a bend to make out through the
sheets of rain the steel girders of the famous
Tsavo bridge.*

We clambered up a steep, slippery bank to the

* This is the point at which construction wad stopped by man-
eating lions. See Patterson's " The Man-eaters of Tsavo,"

268 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

right-of-way, along which we proceeded half a
mile to the station.

This consisted of two or three native huts, a
house for the East Indian in charge, and the
station building itself. The latter was a small
frame structure with a narrow floorless veranda.
There was no platform. Drawing close on all
sides was the interminable thorn scrub. Later,
when the veil of rain had been drawn aside, we
found that Tsavo, perched on a hillside, looked
abroad over a wide prospect. For the moment
all we saw was a dark, dismal, dripping station
wherein was no sign of life.

We were beginning to get chilly, and we
wanted very much some tea, fire, a chance to
dry, pending the arrival of om safari. We
jerked open the door and peered into the inky
interior.

" Babu ! " yelled F., " Babu ! "

From an inner back room came the faint
answer in most precise English, —

" I can-not come ; I am pray-ing."

There followed the sharp, quick tinkle of a
little bell — the Indian manner of calling upon
the Lord's attention.

We both knew better than to hustle the in-
stitutions of the East ; so we waited with what

THE LOST SAFARI. 269

patience we had, listening to the intermittent
tinkling of the Kttle bell. At the end of fully
fifteen minutes the devotee appeared. He proved
to be a mild, deprecating little man, very eager
to help, but without resources. He was a Hindu,
and hved mainly on tea and rice. The rice was
all out, but he expected more on the night train.
There was no trading store here. He was the
only inhabitant. After a few more answers he
disappeared, to return carrying two pieces of
letter paper on which were tea and a httle coarse
native sugar. These, with a half-dozen very small
potatoes, were all he had to offer.

It did not look very encouraging. We had
absolutely nothing in which to boil water. Of
course we could not borrow of our host ; caste
stood in the way there. If we were even to touch
one of his utensils, that utensil was for him defiled
for ever. Nevertheless, as we had eaten nothing
since four o'clock that morning, and had put a
hard day's work behind us, we made an effort.
After a short search we captured a savage pos-
sessed of a surfuria, or native cooking pot.
Memba Sasa scrubbed this with sand. First we
made tea in it, and drank turn about, from
its wide edge. This warmed us up somewhat.
Then we dumped in om* few potatoes and a single

270 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

guinea fowl that F. had decapitated earher in the
day. We ate ; and passed the pot over to
Memba Sasa.

So far, so good ; but we were still very wet,
and the uncomfortable thought would obtrude
itself that the safari might not get in that day.
It behoved us at least to dry what we had on.
I hunted up Memba Sasa, whom I found in a
native hut. A fire blazed in the middle of the
floor. I stooped low to enter, and squatted on
my heels with the natives. Slowly I steamed
off the siuiace moisture. We had rather a good
time chatting and laughing. After a while I
looked out. It had stopped raining. Therefore
I emerged and set some of the men collecting
firewood. Shortly I had a fine Uttle blaze going
under the veranda roof of the station. F. and I
hung out our breeches to dry, and spread the
tails of our shirts over the heat. F. was actually
the human chimney, for the smoke was pouring
in clouds from the breast and collar of his shirt.
We were fine figures for the public platform of a
railway station !

We had just about dried off and had reassumed
our thin and scanty garments, when the babu
emerged. We stared in drop- jawed astonishment.
He had muffled his head and mouth in a most

THE LOST SAFARI. 271

brilliant scarf, as if for zero weather ; although
dressed otherwise in the usual pongee. Under
one arm he carried a folded clumsy cotton
umbrella ; around his waist he had belted a huge
knife ; in his other hand he carried his battle-axe.
I mean just that — his battle-axe. We had seen
such things on tapestries or in museums, but did
not dream that they still existed out of captivity.
This was an Oriental looking battle-axe with a
handle three feet long, a spike on top, a spike
out behind, and a half-moon blade in front. The
babu had with a httle of his signal paint done
the whole thing, blade and all, to a brilliant
window-shutter green.

As soon as we had recovered our breath, we
asked him very pohtely the reason for these stu-
pendous preparations. It seemed that it was his
habit to take a daily stroll just before sunset,
" for the sake of the health," as he told us in
his accurate English.

" The bush is full of bad men," he explained,
" who would like to kill me ; but when they see
this axe and this knife they say to each other,
' There walks a very bad man. We dare not
kill him.' "

He marched very solenmly a quarter-mile up the
track and back, always in plain view. Promptly

272 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

on his return he dived into his little back room
where the periodic tinkling of his praying bell
for some time marked his gratitude for having
escaped the " bad men."

The bell ceased. Several times he came to the
door, eyed us timidly, tind bolted back into the
darkness. Finally he approached to within ten
feet, twisted his hands and giggled in a most
deprecating fashion.

" What is the use of this killing game ? " he
gabbled &s rapidly as he could. " Man should not
destroy what man cannot first create." After
which he giggled again and fled.

His conscience, evidently, had driven him to
this defiance of our high mightinesses against
his sense of politeness and his fears.

About this time my boy Mohammed and the
cook drifted in. They reported that they had left
the safari not far back. Our hopes of supper and
blankets rose. They declined, however, with the
gathering darkness, and were replaced by wrath
against the faithless ones. Memba Sasa, in spite
of his long day, took a gun and disappeared in
the darkness. He did not get back imtil nine
o'clock, when he suddenly appeared in the door-
way to lean the gun in the comer, and to an-
nounce, " Hapana safari."

THE LOST SAFARI. 273

We stretched ourselves on a bench and a
table — the floor was impossible — and took what
sleep we could. In the small hours the train
thundered through, the train we had hoped to
catch !

xxxn.

THE BABU.

Y\77E stretched ourselves stiffly in the first
W gray of dawn, wondering where we could
get a mouthful of breakfast. On emerging from
the station a strange and gladsome sight met our
eyes — namely, chop boxes and gim cases belonging
to some sportsman not yet arrived. Necessity
knows no law ; so we promptly helped ourselves
to food and gun-cleaning implements. Much re-
freshed, we lit our pipes and settled ourselves
to wait for our delinquents.

Shortly after sunrise an Indian track inspector
tnmdled in on a handcar propelled by two natives.
He was a suave and corpulent person with a very
large umbrella and beautiful silken garments.
The natives upset the handcar off the track, and
the newcomer settled himself for an enjoyable
morning. He and the babu discussed ethics and

THE BABU. 275

metaphysical philosophy for three solid hours.
Evidently they came from different parts of
India, and their only common language was
English. Through the thin partition in the
station building we could hear plainly every
word. It was very interesting. Especially did
we chortle with delight when the inspector began
one of his arguments somewhat as follows : —

" Now the two EngUsh who are here. They
possess great sums of wealth " — ^F. nudged me
dehghtedly — " and they have weapons to kill, and
much with which to do things, yet their savage
minds "

It was plain, rank, eavesdropping, but most
illuminating, thus to get at first hand the Eastern
point of view as to ourselves ; to hear the blood-
less, gentle shell of Indian philosophy described
by beUevers. They discussed the most minute
and impractical points, and involved themselves
in the most imcompromising dilemmas.

Thus the gist of one argiunent was as follows :
" All sexual intercourse is sin, but the race must
go forward by means of sexual intercourse ;
therefore the race is conceived in sin and is sinful ;
but it is a great sin for me, as an individual, not
to carry forward the race, since the Divine Will
decrees that in some way the race is necessary to

276 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

it. Therefore it would seem that man is in sin
whichever way you look at it "

" But," interposes the inspector firmly but
politely, ^^ is it not possible that sexual sin and
the sin of opposing Divine Will may be of balance
in the spirit, so that in resisting one sort a man
acquires virtue to commit the other without
harm " And so on for hours.

At twelve-thirty the safari drifted in. Con-
sider that fact and what it meant. The plain
duty of the headman was, of course, to have seen
that the men followed us in the day before.
But allowing, for the sake of argument, that this
was impossible, and that the men had been forced
by the exhaustion of some of their number to stop
and camp, if they had arisen betimes they should
have completed the journey in two hoiu^s at most.
That should have brought them in by half-past
seven or eight o'clock. But a noon arrival
condemned them without the necessity of argu-
ment. They had camped early, had risen very,
very late, and had dawdled on the road.

We ourselves gave the two responsible headmen
twenty lashes apiece ; then turned over to them
the job of thrashing the rest. Ten per man was
the allotment. They expected the punishment ;
took it gracefully. Some even thanked us

THE BABU. 277

when it was over ! The babu disappeared in
his station.

About an hour later he approached us, very
deprecating, and handed us a telegram. It was
from the district commissioner at Voi ordering us
to report for flogging " porters on the Tsavo
Station platform."

" I am truly sorry, I am truly sorry," the
babu was murmuring at our elbows.

" What does this mean ? " we demanded of
him.

He produced a thick book.

" It is in here — the law," he explained. " You
must not flog men on the station platform. It
was my duty to report."

" How did we know that ? Why didn't you
teU us ? "

" If you had gone there " — he pointed ten
feet away to a spot exactly like all other spots —
" it would have been off the platform. Then I
had nothing to say."

We tried to become angry.

" But why in blazes couldn't you have told us
of that quietly and decently ? We'd have
moved."

"It is the law " He tapped his thick

book.

278 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

" But we cannot be supposed to know by heart
every law in that book. Why didn't you warn
us before reporting ? " we insisted.

" I am truly sorry," he repeated. " I hope
and trust it will not prove serious. But it is in
the book."

We continued in the same purposeless fashion
for a moment or so longer. Then the babu
ended the discussion thus, —

" It was my duty. I am truly sorry. Sup-
pose I had not reported and should die to-day,
and should go to heaven, and God should ask
me, ' Have you done your duty to-day ? ' what
should I say to Him ? "

We gave it up ; we were up against Revealed
Religion.

So that night we took a freight train southward
to Voi, leaving the babu and his prayer-bell, and
his green battle-axe and his conscience alone in the
wilderness. We had quite a respect for that babu.

The district commissioner listened apprecia-
tively to our tale.

" Of course I shall not carry the matter further,"
he told us, " but having known the babu, you
must see that once he had reported to me I was
compelled to order you down here. I am sorry
for the inconvenience."

THE BABU. 279

And when we reflected on the cataclysmic up-
heaval that babu would have undergone had we
not been summoned after breaking one of The
Laws in the Book, we had to admit the district
commissioner was right.

Part VI.
IN MASAILAND.

XXXIII.
OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT.

OWING to an outbreak of bubonic plague, and
consequent quarantine, we had recruited
our men outside Nairobi, and had sent them, in
charge of C, to a little station up the line.

Billy and I saw to the loading of our equip-
ment on the train, and at two o'clock, in sohtary
state, set forth. Our only attendants were Mo-
hammed and Memba Sasa, who had been fumi-
gated and inoculated and generally Red-Crossed
for the purpose.

The little narrow-gauge train doubled and
twisted in its climb up the range overlooking
Nairobi and the Athi Plains. Fields of corn
grew so tall as partially to conceal villages of
round, grass-thatched huts with conical roofs ;
we looked down into deep ravines where grew
the broad-leaved bananas ; the steep hillsides
had all been carefully cultivated. Savages lean-

284 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

ing on spears watched us puff heavily by. Women,
richly ornamented with copper wire or beads,
toiled along bent under loads carried by means
of a band across the top of the head.* Naked
children rushed out to wave at us. We were
steaming quite comfortably through Africa as it
had been for thousands of years before the white
man came.

At Kikuyu Station we came to a halt. Bakuyu
Station ordinarily embarks about two passengers
a month, I suppose. Now it was utterly swamped
with business, for on it had descended all our
safari of thirty-nine men and three mules. Thirty
of the thirty-nine yelled and shrieked and got in
the wrong place, as usual. C. and the train men
and the stationmaster and our responsible boys
heaved and tugged and directed, ordered, com-
manded. At length the human element was
loaded to its places and locked in. Then the
mules had to be urged up a very narrow gang-
plank into a dangerous-looking car. Quite sen-
sibly they declined to take chances. We per-
suaded them. The process was quite simple.
Two of the men holding the ends at a safe dis-
tance stretched a light strong cord across the
beasts' hind legs, and sawed it back and forth.

* After the fashion of the Canadian tump line.

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 285

We clanged the doors shut, climbed aboard,
and the train at last steamed on. Now bits of
forest came across our way, deep, shaded, with
trailing curtain vines, and wide leaves as big
as table tops, and high, lush, impenetrable im-
dergrowth full of flashing birds, fathomless
shadows, and inquisitive monkeys. Occasionally
we emerged to the edge of a long oval meadow,
set in depressions among hills, like our Sierra
meadows. Indeed so like were these openings to
those in our own wooded mountains that we
always experienced a distinct shock of surprise
as the famiUar woods parted to disclose a dark
solemn savage with flashing spear.

We stopped at various stations, and descended
and walked about in the gathering shadows of
the forest. It was getting cool. Many httle
things attracted our attention, to remain in our
memories as isolated pictures. Thus I remember
one grave savage squatted by the track playing
on a sort of mandoline- shaped instrument. It
had two strings, and he twanged these alter-
nately, without the slightest effort to change
their pitch by stopping with his fingers. He bent
his head sidewise, and hstened with the metic-
ulous attention of a connoisseur. We stopped
at that place for fully ten minutes, but not for a

286 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

second did he leave off twanging his two strings,
nor did he even momentarily relax his attention.

It was now near sundown. We had been
climbing steadily. The train shrieked twice, and
unexpectedly slid out to the edge of the Likipia
Escarpment. We looked down once more into
the great Rift Valley.

The Rift Valley is as though a strip of Africa
— extending half the length of the continent —
had in time past sunk bodily some thousands of
feet, leaving a more or less sheer escarpment on
either side, and preserving intact its own varie-
gated landscape in the bottom. We were on the
Likipia Escarpment. We looked across to the
Mau Escarpment, where the country over which
our tr£iin had been travelling continued after its
interruption by the valley. And below us were
mountains, streams, plains. The westering sun
threw strong slants of light down and across.

The engine shut off its power, and we slid
silently down the rather compUcated grades and
curves of the descent. A noble forest threw its
shadows over us. Through the chance openings
we caught glimpses of the pale country far below.
Across high trestle bridges we rattled, and craned
over to see the rushing white water of the moun-
tain torrents a himdred feet down. The shriek of

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 287

our engine echoed and re-echoed weirdly from the
serried trunks of trees and from the great chffs
that seemed to Hft themselves as we descended.

We debarked at Kijabe * well after dark. It
is situated on a ledge in the escarpment, is per-
haps a quarter-mile wide, and includes nothing
more elaborate than the station, a row of Indian
dukkas, and two houses of South Africans set
back towards the rise in the chffs. A mile or
so away, and on a Httle higher level, stand the
extensive buildings of an American mission. It
is, I beheve, educational as well as sectarian, is
situated in one of the most healthful climates of
East Africa, and is prosperous.

At the moment we saw none of these things.
We were too busy getting men, mules, and equip-
ment out of the train. Our lanterns flared
in the great wind that swept down the defile ;
and across the track Httle fires flared too.
Shortly we made the acquaintance of the South
Africander who fmnished us our ox teams and
wagon ; and of a lank, drawUng youth who was
to be our " rider." The latter was very anxious
to get started, so we piled all our stores and
equipment but those immediately necessary for
the night aboard the great wagon. Then we

* Pronounce all the syllables.

288 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

returned to the dak-bungalow for a very be-
lated supper. While eating this we discussed
our plans.

These were in essence very simple. Some-
where south of the Great Thirst of the Sotik was
a river called the Narossara. Back of the river
were high moimtains, and down the river were
benches dropping off by thousands of feet to the
barren country of Lake Magahdi. Over some of
this country ranged the Greater Kudu, easily the
prize buck of East Africa. We intended to try
for a Greater Kudu.

People laughed at us. The beast is extremely
rare ; it ranges over a wide area ; it inhabits the
thickest sort of cover in a sheer mountainous
country ; its senses «ire wonderfully acute ; and
it is very wary. A man mighty once in a blue
moon, get one by happening upon it accidentally,
but deliberately to go after it was sheer lunacy.
So we were told. As a matter of fact, we thought
so ourselves, but Greater Kudu was as good an
excuse as another.

The most immediate of our physical difficulties
was the Thirst. Six miles from Bjjabe we would
leave the Kedong River. After that was no
more water for two days and nights. Diuing
that time we should be forced to travel and

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 289

rest in alternation day and night, with a great
deal of travel and very Uttle rest. We should be
able to carry for the men a limited amount of
water on the ox wagon, but the cattle could not
drink. It was a hard, anxious grind. A day's
journey beyond the first water after the Thirst
we should cross the Southern Guaso Nyero River.*
Then two days should land us at the Narossara.
There we must leave our ox wagon and push on
with our tiny safari. We planned to relay back
for porters from our different camps.

That was our whole plan. Our transport
rider's object in starting this night was to reach
the Kedong River, and there to outspan until
oiu" arrival next day. The cattle would thus
get a good feed and rest. Then at four in the
afternoon we would set out to conquer the
Thirst. After that it would be a question of
travelling to suit the oxen.

Next morning, when we arose, we found one
of the wagon Kikuyus awaiting us. His tale
ran that after going four miles, the oxen had
been stampeded by lions. In the mix-up the
dusselboom had been broken. He demanded
a new dusselboom. I looked as wise as though

* An entirely different stream from that flowing north of Mt.
Kenia.

10

290 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

I knew just what that meant ; and told him
largely, to help himself. Shortly he departed
carrying what looked to be the greater part of
a forest tree.

We were in no hurry, so we did not try to get
our safari under way before eight o'clock. It
consisted of twenty-nine porters, the gimbearers,
three personcJ boys, three syces, and the cook.
Of this lot some few stand out from the rest,
and deserve particular attention.

Of course I had my veterans, Memba Sasa and
Mohammed. There was also Kongoni, gunbearer,
elsewhere described. The third gunbearer was
Marrouki, a Wakamba. He was the personal
gunbearer of a Mr. Twigg, who very courteously
loaned him for this trip as possessing some
knowledge of the country. He was a small
person, with stripes about his eyes; dressed in
a Scotch highland cap, khaki breeches, and a
shooting coat miles too big for him. His soul
was earnest, his courage great, his training good,
his intelligence none too brilliant. Timothy, our
cook, was pure Swahili. He was a thin, elderly
individual, with a wrinkled brow of care. This
represented a conscientious soul. He tried hard
to please, but he never could quite forget that
he had cooked for the Governor's safari. His

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 291

air was always one of silent disapproval of our
modest outfit. So well did he do, however, often
under trying circumstances, that at the close of
the expedition Billy presented him with a very
fancy knife. To her vast astonishment he burst
into violent sobs.

" Why, what is it ? " she asked.

" Oh, memsahib," he wailed, ** I wanted a
watch ! "

As personal boy Billy had a Masai named
Geyeye.* The members of this proud and aris-
tocratic tribe rarely condescend to work for the
white man ; but when they do, they are very
fine servants, for they are highly intelligent.
Geyeye was short and very, very ugly. Perhaps
this may partly explain his leaving tribal life,
for the Masai generally are over six feet.

C.'s man was an educated Coast SwahiH named
Abba Ah. This individual was very smart. He
wore a neatly-trimmed Vandyke beard, a flannel
boating hat, smart tailored khakis, and carried a
rattan cane. He was alert, quick, and inteUi-
gent. His position was midway between that of
personal boy and headman.

Of the rank and file we began with twenty-
nine. Two changed their minds before we were

* Pronounce every syllable.

292 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

feiirly started, and departed in the night. There
was no time to get regular porters ; but fortu-
nately a Kikuyu chief detailed two wild savages
from his tribe to act as carriers. These two
children of nature drifted in with pleasant smiles
and little else save knick-knacks. From our
supplies we gave them two thin jerseys, reaching
nearly to the knees. Next day they appeared
with broad tucks sewed aroxmd the middle !
They looked like " My Mama didn't use wool
soap." We then gave it up, and left them free
and untrammelled.

They differed radically. One was past the
first enthusiasms and vanities of youth. He was
small, unobtrusive, imomamented. He had no
possessions save the jersey, the water-bottle, and
the blanket we ourselves supplied. The blanket
he crossed bandolier fashion on one shoulder.
It hung down behind like a tasselled sash. His
face was little and wizened and old. He was
quiet and uncomplaining, and the " easy mark "
for all the rest. We had constantly to be inter-
fering to save him from imposition as to too heavy
loads, too many jobs, and the like. Nearing
the close of the long expedition, when our loads
were Hghter and fewer, one day C. spoke up.

" I'm going to give the old man a good time,"

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 293

said he. "I doubt if he's ever had one before,
or if he ever will again. He's that sort of a
meek damnfool."

So it was decreed that Kimau * should carry
nothing for the rest of the trip, was to do no more
work, was to have all he wanted to eat. It was
a treat to see him. He accepted these things
without surprise, without spoken thanks ; just
as he would have accepted an increased supply of
work and kicks. Before his little fire he squatted
all day, gazing vacantly off into space, or gnaw-
ing on a piece of the meat he always kept roast-
ing on sticks. He spoke to no one ; he never
smiled or displayed any obvious signs of enjoy-
ment ; but from him radiated a feeling of deep
content.

His companion savage was a yoimg blood,
and still affected by the vanities of life. His hair
he wore in short tight curls, resembling the rope
hair of a French poodle, liberally anointed with
castor-oil and coloured with red-paint clay.
His body, too, was turned to bronze by the same
method, so that he looked like a beautiful
smooth metal statue come to life. To set this
quality off he wore ghttering collars, bracelets,

* His official name was Lightfoot, Queen of the Fairies, because
of his ballet-like costume.

294 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and ear ornaments of polished copper and brass.
When he joined us his sole costume was a negli-
gent two-foot strip of cotton cloth. After he had
received his official jersey, he carefully tied the
cloth over his wonderful head ; nor as far as
we knew did he again remove it until the end
of the expedition. All his movements were inex-
pressibly graceful. They reminded one somehow
of Flaxman's drawings of the Greek gods. His
face, too, was good-natured and likeable. A cer-
tain half feminine, wild grace, combined with the
queer effect of his headgear, caused us to name
him Daphne. At home he was called Kingangui.
At first he carried his burden after the fashion
of savages — on the back ; and kept to the rear
of the procession ; and at evening consorted only
with old Lightfoot. As soon as opportunity
offered, he built himself a marvellous iridescent
ball of marabout feathers. Each of these he
split along the quill, so that they curled and
writhed in the wind. This picturesque charm he
suspended from a short pole in front of his tent.
Also, he belonged to the Kikuyu tribe ; he ate no
game meat, but confined his diet to commeal
porridge. We were much interested in watching
Daphne's gradual conversion from savage ways
to those of the regular porter. Within two weeks

OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT. 295

he was carrying his load on his head or shoulder,
and trying to keep up near the head of the safari.
The charm of feathers disappeared shortly after,
I am sorry to say. He took his share of the
meat. Within two months Daphne was imita-
ting as closely as possible the manners and cus-
toms of his safari mates. But he never really
succeeded in looking anything but the wild and
graceful savage he was.

XXXIV.

TO THE KEDONG.

FOR four hours we descended the valley
through high thorn scrub or the occasional
grassy openings. We were now in the floor of
the Rift Valley, and both along the escarpments
and in the floor of the great blue valley itself
mountains were all about us. Most of the large
ones were evidently craters ; and ever3rwhere
were smaller kopjes or buttes, that in their day
had also served as blow holes for subterranean
fires.

At the end of this time we arrived at the place
where we were supposed to find the wagon. No
wagon was there.

The spot was in the middle of a level plain on
which grew very scattered bushes, a great deal
like the sparser mesquite growths of Arizona.
Towards the Likipia Escarpment, and about half-
way to its base, a line of trees marked the coiu'se

TO THE KEDONG. 297

of the Kedong River. Beyond that, fairly against
the mountain, we made out a settler's house.

Leaving Billy and the safari, C. and I set out
for this house. The distance was long, and we had
not made half of it before thunder clouds began
to gather. They came up thick and black behind
the escarpment, and rapidly spread over the
entire heavens. We found the wagon shortly,
still mending its dusselboom, or whatever the
thing was. Leaving instructions for it to pro-
ceed to a certain point on the Kedong River, we
started back for our safari.

It rained. In ten minutes the dusty plains, as
far as the eye could reach, were covered with
water two or three inches deep, from which the
sparse bimches of grasses grew like reeds in a
great marshy lake. We splashed along with the
water over our ankles. The channels made by
the game trails offered natural conduits, and
wherever there was the least grade they had be-
come rushing brooks. We found the safari very
bedraggled. Billy had made a mound of valu-
ables, atop which she perched, her waterproof cape
spread as wide as possible, a good deal like a
brooding hen. We set out for the meeting-point
on the Kedong. In half an hour we had there

found a bit of higher ground and had made camp.

10 a

298 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

As suddenly as they had gathered the storm
clouds broke away. The expiring sun sent across
the valley a flood of golden light, that gilded the
rugged old mountain of Suswa over the way.

" Directly on the other side of Suswa," C. told
me, *' there is a ' pan * of hard clay. This rain
will fill it, and we shcJl find water there. We
can take a night's rest, and set off comfortably
in the morning."

So the rain that had soaked us so thoroughly
was a blessing after all. While we were cooking
supper the wagon passed us, its wheels and frame
creaking, its great whip cracking like a rifle, its
men shrieking at the imperturbable team of
eighteen oxen. It would travel imtil the oxen
wanted to graze, or sleep, or scratch an ear,
or meditate on why is a Kikuyu. Thereupon
they would be outspanned and allowed to do it,
whatever it was, until they were ready to go on
again. Then they would go on. These sequences
might take place at any time of the day or night,
and for greater or lesser intervals of time. That
was distinctly up to the oxen ; the human beings
had mighty Httle to say in the matter. But
transport riding, from the point of view of the
rank outsider, really deserves a chapter of its
own.

XXXV.

THE TRANSPORT RmER.

THE wagon is one evolved in South Africa —
a long, heavUy-constructed affair, with
ingenious braces and timbers so arranged as to
furnish the maximum clearance with the greatest
facihty for substitution in case the necessity for
repairs might arise. The whole vehicle can be
dismounted and reassembled in a few hours ; so
that imfordable streams or impossible bits of
country can be crossed piecemeal. Its enormous
wheels are set wide apart. The brake is worked
by a crank at the rear, Uke a reversal of the
starting mechanism of a motor car. Bolted to
the frame on either side between the front and
rear wheels are capacious cupboards, and two
stout water kegs swing to and fro when the craft
is under way. The net carrying capacity of such
a wagon is from three to four thousand poimds.
This formidable vehicle, in our own case, was

SOO AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

drawn by a team of eighteen oxen. The biggest
brutes, the wheelers, were attached to a tongue ;
all the others pulled on a long chain. The only
harness was the pronged yoke that fitted just for-
ward of the hump. Over rough country the
wheelers were banged and jerked about savagely
by the tongue ; they did not seem to mind it,
but exhibited a certain amount of intelligence
in manipulation.

To drive these oxen we had one white man,
named Brown, and two small Kikuyu savages.
One of these worked the brake crank in the rear,
while the other preceded the lead cattle. Brown
exercised general supervision, a long-lashed whip,
and Boer-Dutch expletives and admonitions.

In transport riding, as this game is called, there
is required a great amoimt of especial skill,
though not necessarily a high degree of intelli-
gence. Along the flats all goes well enough, but
once in the imbelievable rough country of a hill
trek the situation alters. A man must know
cattle and their symptoms. It is no light feat
to wake up eighteen sluggish bovine minds to
the necessity for effort, and then to throw so
much d3niamic energy into the situation that the
whole eighteen will begin to pull at once. That
is the secret, unanimity ; an ox is the most

THE TRANSPORT RIDER. 301

easily discouraged working animal on earth. If
the first three couples begin to haul before the
others have aroused to their effort, they wiU not
succeed in budging the wagon an inch, but after a
moment's struggle will give up completely. By
that time the leaders respond to the command
and throw themselves forward in the yoke. In
vain. They cannot pull the wagon and their
wheel conu-ades too. Therefore they give up.
By this time, perhaps, the lash has aroused the
first lot to another effort. And so they go, pull-
ing and hauling against each other, getting no-
where, until the end is an exhausted team, a
driver half insane, and a great necessity for un-
loading.

A good driver, on the other hand, shrieks a few
premonitory Dutch words — and then ! I sup-
pose inside those bovine heads the effect is some-
what that of a violent electric explosion. At
any rate it hits them all at once, and all to-
gether, in response, they surge against their yokes.
The heavily laden wagon creaks, groans, moves
forward. The hurricane of Dutch and the volleys
of whip crackings rise to a crescendo. We are
off!

To perform just this little simple trick of get-
ting the thing started requires not only a peculiar

302 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

skill or gift, but also lungs of brass and a throat
of iron. A transport rider without a voice is as a
tenor in the same fix. He may — and does — get
so hoarse that it is a pain to hear him; but as
long as he can croak in good volume he is all
right. Mere shouting will not do. He must
shriek, imtil to the sympathetic bystander it
seems that his throat must spUt wide open. Fur-
thermore, he must shriek the proper things. It
all sounds alike to every one but transport riders
and oxen ; but as a matter of fact it is Boer-
Dutch, nicely assorted to suit different occasions.
It is incredible that oxen should distinguish ;
but, then, it is also incredible that trout should
distinguish the nice differences in artificial flies.

After the start has been made successfully, the
craft must be kept under way. To an unbitissed
bystander the whole affair looks insane. The
wagon creaks and sways and groans and cries
aloud as it bumps over great boulders in the way ;
the leading Kikuyu dances nimbly and shrills
remarks at the nearest cattle; the tail Kikuyu
winds energetically back and forth on his little
handle, and tries to keep his feet. And Brown !
he is magnificent ! His long lash sends out a
volley of rifle reports, down, up, ahead, back ;
his cracked voice roars out an unending stream

THE TRANSPORT RIDER. 303

of apparent gibberish. Back and forth along
the line of the team he skips nimbly, the sweat
streaming from his face. And the oxen plod
along, mihasting, miexcited, their eyes dreamy,
chewing the cud of yesterday's philosophic re-
flections. The situation conveys the general im-
pression of a peevish little stream breaking against
great calm cliffs. All this frantic excitement and
expenditure of energy is so apparently purpose-
less and futUe, the calm cattle seem so aloof and
superior to it all, so absolutely imaffected by it.
They are going slowly, to be sure; their gait
may be maddeningly deliberate, but evidently
they do not intend to be hurried. Why not
let them take their own speed ?

But all this hullabaloo means something after
all. It does its business, and the top of the boulder-
strewn hill is gained. Without it the whole con-
cern would have stopped, and then the wagon
would have to be imloaded before a fresh start
could have been made. Results with cattle are
not shown by facial expression nor by increased
speed, but simply by continuance. They will
plod up steep hills or along the level at the same
placid gait. Only in the former case they re-
quire especial treatment.

In case the wagon gets stuck on a hill, as

304 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

will occasionally happen, so that all the oxen
are discouraged at once, we would see one of the
Kikuyus leading the team back and forth, back
and forth, on the side hill just ahead of the wagon.
This is to confuse their minds, cause them to
forget their failure, and thus to make another
attempt.

At one stretch we had three days of real
mountains. N'gombe * Brown shrieked like a
steam calliope all the way through. He lasted
the distance, but had little camp-j&re conversa-
tion even with his beloved Kikuyus.

When the team is outspanned, which in the
waterless country of forced marches is likely to
be almost any time of the day or night, N'gombe
Brown sought a little rest. For this pmpose he
had a sort of bunk that let down imdemeath
the wagon. If it were daytime, the cattle were
allowed to graze under supervision of one of the
Kikuj^s. If it was night time they were teth-
ered to the long chain, where they lay in a som-
nolent double row. A lantern at the head of the
file and one at the wagon's tail were supposed
to discourage lions. In a bad lion country fires
were added to these defences.

N'gombe Brown thus worked hard through varied

* N'gombe = oxen.

THE TRANSPORT RIDER. 305

and long hours in strict intimacy with stupid and
exasperating beasts. After working hours he
liked to wander out to watch those same beasts
grazing ! His mind was as full of cattle as
that ! Although we offered him reading matter,
he never seemed to care for it, nor for long- con-
tinued conversation with white people not of his
trade. In fact the only gleam of interest I could
get out of him was by commenting on the quali-
ties or peculiarities of the oxen. He had a small
mouth-organ on which he occasionally performed,
and would hold forth for hours with his childlike
Kikuyus. In the intelligence to follow ordinary
directions he was an infant. We had to iterate
and reiterate in words of one syllable our direc-
tions as to routes and meeting-points, and then
he was quite as apt to go wrong as right. Yet, I
must repeat, he knew thoroughly all the ins and
outs of a very difl&cult trade, and understood,
as well, how to keep his cattle always fit and in
good condition. In fact he was a little hipped
on what the " dear n'gombes " should or should
not be called upon to do.

One incident will illustrate all this better than
I could explain it. When we reached the Naros-
sara River we left the wagon and pushed on
afoot. We were to be gone an indefinite time.

306 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and we left N'gombe Brown and his outfit very
well fixed. Along the Narossara ran a pleasant
shady strip of high jungle ; the country about
was clear and open ; but most important of all, a
white man of education and personal charm occu-
pied a trading boma, or enclosure, near at hand.
An accident changed our plans and brought us
back unexpectedly at the end of a few weeks. We
found that N'gombe Brown had trekked back a
long day's journey, and was encamped alone at
the end of a spur of mountains. We sent native
runners after him. He explained his change of
base by saying that the cattle feed was a little
better at his new camp I Mind you this : at the
Neirossara the feed was quite good enough, the
oxen were doing no work, there was companion-
ship, books, papers, and even a phonograph to
while away the long weeks until our return.
N'gombe Brown quite cheerfully deserted all
this to live in solitude where he imagined the
feed to be microscopically better I

XXXVI.

ACROSS THE THIRST.

WE were off, a bright, clear day after the
rains. Suswa hung grayish pink against
the bluest of skies. Our way slanted across the
Rift Valley to her base, turned the corner, and
continued on the other side of the great peak
until we had reached the rainwater " pan " on
her farther side. It was a long march.

The plains were very wide and roomy. Here
and there on them rose many small cones and
craters, lava flows and other varied evidences of
recent volcanic activity. Geologically recent, I
mean. The grasses of the flowing plains were
very brown, and the molehill craters very dark ;
the larger craters blasted and austere ; the
higher escarpment in the background blue with
a solemn distance. The sizes of things were not
originally fitted out for little tiny people Uke

806 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

humein beings. We walked hours to reach land-
marks apparently only a few miles away.

In this manner we crept along industriously
until noon, by which time we had nearly reached
the shoulder of Suswa, around which we had to
double. The sim was strong, £uid the men not yet
hardened to the work. We had many stragglers.
After lunch Memba Sasa and I strolled along on a
route flanking that of the safari, looking for the
first of our meat supply. Within a short time I
had killed a Thompson's gazelle. Some solemn
giraffes looked on at the performance, and then
moved off like mechanical toys.

The day lengthened. We were in the midst
of wonderful scenery. Our objection grew to be
that it took so long to put any of it behind us.
Insensibly, however, we made progress. Sud-
denly, as it seemed, we found ourselves looking
at the other side of Suswa, and various brand-
new little craters had moved up to take the
places of our old friends. At last, about half-
past four, we topped the swell of one of the
numerous and interminable land billows that im-
dulate across all plains countries here, and saw
a few miles away the wagon outspanned. We
reached it about sunset, to be greeted by the wel-
come news that there was indeed water in the pan.

ACROSS THE THIRST. 309

We unsaddled just before dark, and I imme-
diately started towards the game herds, many of
which were grazing a half-mile away. The
gazelle would supply our own larder, but meat
for hard-worked man was very desirable. I shot
a hartebeeste, made the prearranged signal for
men to carry meat, and returned to camp.

Even yet the men were not all in. We took
lanterns and returned along the road, for the
long marches under a desert sun are no joke. At
last we had accounted for all but two. These
we had to abandon. Next day we found their
loads, but never laid eyes on them again. Thus
early our twenty-nine became twenty-seven.

About nine o'clock, just as we were turning,
a number of Uons began to roar. Usually a Hon
roars once or twice by way of satisfaction after
leaving a kill. These, however, were engaged in
driving game, and hence trying to make as much
noise as possible. We distinguished plainly
seven individuals, perhaps more. The air trem-
bled with the sound as to the deepest tones of a
big organ, only the organ is near and enclosed,
while these vibrations were in the open air and
remote. For a few moments the great salvos
would boom across the veld, roll after roll of
thimder ; then would ensue a momentary dead

310 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

silence ; then a single voice would open, to be
joined immediately by the others.

We awoke next day to an imexpected cold
drizzle. This was a bit uncomfortable, from one
point of view, and most unusual, but it robbed
the thirst of its terrors. We were enabled to
proceed leisurely, and to get a good sleep near
water every night. The wagon had, as usual,
pulled out some time during the night.

Our way led over a succession of low rolling
ridges each higher than its predecessor. Game
herds fed in the shallow valleys between. At
about ten o'clock we came to the foot of the
Mau Escarpment, and also to the imexpected
sight of the wagon outspanned. N'gombe Brown
explained to us that the oxen had refused to
proceed farther in face of a nmnber of lions
that came around to sniff at them. Then the
rain had come on, and he had been unwilling to
attempt the Mau while the footing was sUppery.
This soimded reasonable ; in fact, it was still
reasonable. The grass was here fairly neck high,
and we found a rain-filled water-hole. There-
fore we decided to make camp. C. and I wan-
dered out in search of game. We tramped a great
deal of bold, rugged country, both in canon
bottoms and along the open ridges, but found only

ACROSS THE THIRST. 311

a rhinoceros, one bush-buck find a dozen harte-
beeste. African game, as a general rule, avoids
a country where the grass grows very high.
We enjoyed, however, some bold and wonderful
mountain scenery, and obtained glimpses through
the flying murk of the vast plains and the base of
Suswa. On a precipitous caiion cliff we found
a hanging garden of cactus and of looped cactus-
like vines that was a marvel to behold. We ran
across the hartebeeste on our way home. Our
men were already out of meat; the hartebeeste of
yesterday had disappeared. These porters are a
good deal like the old-fashioned Michigan lumber-
jacks— they take a good deal of feeding for the
first few days. When we came upon the little
herd in the neck-high grass, I took a shot. At
the report the animal went down flat. We
wandered over slowly. Memba Sasa whetted his
knife and walked up. Thereupon Mr. Harte-
beeste jumped to his feet, flirted his tail gaily,
and departed. We followed him a mile or so,
but he got stronger and gayer every moment,
until at last he frisked out of the landscape quite
strong and hearty. In all my African experi-
ence I lost only six animals hit by bullets, as I
took infimte pains and any amoimt of time to
hunt down wounded beasts. This animal was.

Sn AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

I think, " creased " by too high a shot. Cer-
tainly he was not much injured ; but certainly
he got a big shock to start with.

Tlie little herd had gone on. I got down and
crawled on hands and knees in the thick grass.
It was slow work, and I had to travel by land-
marks. When I finally reckoned I had about
reached the proper place, I stood up suddenly,
my rifle at ready. So dense was the cover and
80 still the air that I had actually crawled right
into the middle of the band ! While we were cut-
ting up the meat the sun broke through strongly.

Therefore the wagon started on up the Mau
at six o'clock. Twelve hours later we followed.
The fine drizzle had set in again. We were very
glad the wagon had taken advantage of the brief
dry time.

From the top of the sheer rise we looked back
for the last time over the wonderful panorama
of the Rift Valley. Before us were wide rounded
hills covered with a scattered small growth that
in general appearance resembled scrub oak. It
sloped away gently until it was lost in mists.
Later, when these cleared, we saw distant blue
mountains across a tremendous shallow basin.
We were nearly on a level with the summit of
Suswa itself, nor did we again drop much below

ACROSS THE THIRST. 313

that altitude. After five or six miles we over-
took the wagon outspanned. The projected all-
night journey had again been frustrated by the
lions. These beasts had proved so bold and
menacing that finally the team had been forced
to stop in sheer self-defence. However, the day
was cool and overcast, so nothing was lost.

After topping the Mau we saw a few gazelle,
zebra, and hartebeeste, but soon plimged into a
bush country quite destitute of game. We were
paralleling the highest ridge of the escarpment,
and so alternated between the crossing of caiions
and the travelling along broad ridges between
them. In lack of other amusement for a long
time I rode with the wagon. The country was
very rough and rocky. Everybody was excited
to the point of frenzy, except the wagon. It had
a certain Dutch stolidity in its manner of calmly
and bumpily surmoimting such portions of the
landscape as happened in its way.

After a very long, tiresome march we camped
above a Uttle stream. Barring our lucky rain
this would have been the first water since leav-
ing the Kedong River. Here were hundreds of
big blue pigeons swooping in to their evening
drink.

For two days more we repeated this sort of

314 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

travel, but always with good camps at fair-
sized streams. Gradually we slanted away from
the main ridge, though we still continued cross-
cutting the swells and ravines thrown off its
flanks. Only the ravines hour by hour became
shallower, and the swells lower and broader. On
their tops the scrub sometimes gave way to open-
ings of short grass. On these fed a few gazelle of
both sorts, and an occasional zebra or so. We saw
also four topi, a beast about the size of our wapiti,
built on the general specifications of a hartebeeste,
but with the most beautiful iridescent plum-
coloured coat. This quartette was very wild. I
made three separate stalks on them, but the best I
could do was 360 paces, at which range I missed.
Finally we surmounted the last low swell to look
down a wide and sloping plain to the depression in
which flowed the principal river of these parts, the
Southern Guaso Nyero. Beyond it stretched the
inmiense oceanlike plains of the Loieta, from
which here and there rose isolated hills, very dis-
tant, like lonesome ships at sea. A little to the
left, also very distant, we could make out an
unbroken blue range of mountains. These were
our ultimate destination.

xxxvn.

THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO.

THE Southern Guaso Nyero, unlike its north-
em namesake, is a sluggish, muddy stream,
rather small, flowing between abrupt clay banks.
Farther down it drops into great canons and
eroded abysses, and acquires a certain grandem*.
But here, at the ford of Agate's Drift, it is de-
cidedly imimpressive. Scant greenery ornaments
its banks. In fact, at most places they nm hard
and baked to a sheer drop-off of ten or fifteen
feet. Scattered mimosa trees and aloes mark
its com-se. The earth for a mile or so is trampled
by thousands of Masai cattle that at certain
seasons pass through the funnel of this, the only
ford for miles. Apparently insignificant, it is
given to sudden, tremendous rises. These origi-
nate in the rainfalls of the upper Mau Escarp-
ment, many miles away. It behooves the safari

316 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

to cross promptly if it can, and to camp always
on the farther bank.

This we did, pitching our tents in a little
opening, between clumps of pretty flowering aloes
and the mimosas. Here, as everywhere in this
coimtry, until we had passed the barrier of the
Narossara mountains, the common horseflies
were a plague. They follow the Masai cattle.
I can give you no better idea of their numbers
than to tell you two isolated facts : I killed
twenty-one at one blow ; and in the morning,
before sunrise, the apex of our tent held a solid
black mass of the creatm-es nmning the length
of the ridge pole, and from half an inch to two
inches deep ! Every pack was black with them
on the march, and the wagon carried its mil-
lions. When the shadow of a branch would cross
that slowly lumbering vehicle, the swarm would
rise and bumble around distractedly for a mo-
ment before settling down again. They fairly
made a nimbus of darkness.

After we had made camp we saw a number of
Masai warriors hovering about the opposite bank,
but they did not ventiu-e across. Some of their
women did, however, and came cheerily into
camp. These most interesting people are worth
more than a casual word, so I shall reserve my

THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO. 317

observations on them until a later chapter. One
of our porters, a big Baganda named Sabakaki,
was suffering severely from pains in the chest
that subsequently developed into pleurisy. From
the Masai women we tried to buy some of the
milk they carried in gourds ; at first they seemed
not averse, but as soon as they reaUzed the
milk was not for our own consumption, they
turned their backs on poor Sabakaki and refused
to have anything more to do with us.

These Masai are very difficult to trade with.
Their only willing barter is done in sheep. These
they seem to consider legitimate objects of
commerce. A short distance from oiu- camp
stood three whitewashed round houses with
thatched, conical roofs, the property of a trader
named Agate. He was away at the time of our
visit.

After an early morning, but vain, attempt to
get Billy a shot at a hon * we set out for our
distant blue mountains. The day was a journey
over plains of great variegation. At times they
were covered with thin scrub ; at others with
small groves ; or again, they were open and
grassy. Always they undulated gently, so from
their tops one never saw as far as he thought

* See " The Land of Footprints."

818 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

he was gmng to see. As landmark we steered
by a good-sized butte named Donga Rasha.

Memba Sasa and I marched ahead on foot.
In this thin scrub we got glimpses of many beasts.
At one time we were within fifty yards of a
band of magnificent eland. By fleeting glimpses
we saw also many wildebeeste and zebra, with
occasionally one of the smaller grass antelo{)e.
Finally, in an open glade we caught sight of
something tawny showing in the middle of a
bush. It was too high off the ground to be a
buck. We sneaked nearer. At fifty yards we
came to a halt, still puzzled. Judging by its
height and colour, it should be a lion, but try as
we Would we could not make out what part of
his anatomy was thus visible. At last I made
up my mind to give him a shot from the Spring-
field, with the '405 handy. At the shot the
tawny patch heaved and lay still. We meuiCEU-
vred cautiously, and fornid we had killed
stone dead not a lion, but a Bohur reed-buck
lying atop an ant hill concealed in the middle
of the bush. This accoimted for its height
above the ground. As it happened, I very much
wanted one of these animals as a specimen, so
everybody was satisfied.

Shortly after, attracted by a great concourse of

THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO. 319

carrion birds, both on trees and in the air, we
penetrated a thicket to come upon a full-grown
giraffe killed by lions. The claw marks and
other indications were indubitable. The carcass
had been partly eaten, but was rapidly van-
ishing imder the attacks of the birds.

Just before noon we passed Donga Rasha and
emerged on the open plains. Here I caught sight
of some Roberts' gazelle, a new species to me, and
started alone in pursuit. They, as usual, trotted
over the nearest rise, so with due precautions I
followed after. At the top of that rise I lay still
in astonishment. Before me marched solemnly
an unbroken single file of game, reaching literally
to my limit of vision in both directions. They
came over the land swell a mile to my left, and
they were disappearing over another land swell
a mile and a half to my right. It was rigidly
single file, except for the young ; the nose of one
beast fairly touching the tail of the one ahead,
and it plodded along at a businesslike walk.
There were but three species represented — the gnu,
the zebra, and the hartebeeste. I did not see
the head of the procession, for it had gone from
sight before I arrived ; nor did I ever see the
tail of it either, for the safari appearing inop-
portunely broke its continuance. But I saw

820 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

two miles and a half, solid, of big game. It was
a great and formal trek, probably to new pastures.

Then I turned my attention to the Roberts'
gazelle, and my good luck downed a specimen at
273 yards. This, with the Bohur reed-buck, made
the second new species for the day. Our luck
was not yet over, however. We had proceeded
but a few miles when Kongoni discovered a herd
of topi. The safari inunediately lay down, while
I went ahead. There was little cover, and I had
a very hard time to get within range, especially
as a dozen zebras kept grazing across the line of
my stalks. The topi themselves were very un-
easy, crossing and recrossing and looking doubt-
fully in my direction. I had a nmnber of chances
at small bucks, but refused them in my desire to
get a shot at the big leader of the herd. Finally
he separated from the rest and faced in my
direction at just 268 yards. At the shot he
fell dead.

For the first time we had an opportunity to
admire the wonderful pelt. It is beautiful in
quality, plum colour, with iridescent lights and
wavy " water marks " changing to pearl coloiu-
on the four quarters, with black legs. We were
both struck with the gorgeousness of a topi
motor-rug made of three skins, with these pearl

THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO. 321

spots as accents in the corners. To our ambitions
and hopes we added more topi.

Our journey to the Narossara River lasted
three days in all. We gained an outlying spur
of the blue mountains, and skirted their base.
The usual varied foothill country led us through
defiles, over ridges, and by charming groves. We
began to see Masai cattle in great herds. The
gentle humpbacked beasts were held in close for-
mation by herders afoot, tall, Hthe young savages
with spears. In the distance and through the
heat haze the beasts shimmered strangely, their
glossy reds and whites and blacks blending to-
gether. In this country of wide expanses and
clear air we could thus often make out a very
far-off herd simply as a speck of rich colour
against the boundless rolling plains.

Here we saw a good variety of game. Zebras,
of course, and hartebeeste ; the Roberts' gazelle,
a tew topi, a good many of the gnu or wilde-
beeste discovered and named by Roosevelt ; a
few giraffes, klipspringer on the rocky buttes,
cheetah, and the usual jackals, hyenas, etc. I
killed one very old zebra. So ancient was he
that his teeth had worn down to the level of the
giuns, which seemed fairly on the point of clos-
ing over. Nevertheless he was still fat and

11

322 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

sleek. He could not much longer have continued
to crop the grass. Such extreme age in wild
animals is, in Africa at least, most remarkable,
for genersJly they meet violent deaths while still
in their prime.

About three o'clock of the third afternoon
we came in sight of a long line of forest trees
nmning down parallel with the nearest moun-
tain ranges. These marked the course of the
Narossara, and by four o'clock we were de-
scending the last slope.

XXXVIII.
THE LOWER BENCHES.

THE Narossara is really only about creek size,
but as it flows the whole year round it merits
the title of river. It rises in the junction of a
long spiu" with the main ranges, cuts straight
across a wide inward bend of the mountains, joins
them again, plunges down a deep and tremendous
caiion to the level of a second bench below great
cliffs, meanders peacefully in flowery meadows
and delightful glades for some miles, and then
once more, and most unexpectedly, drops eight-
een hundred feet by waterfall and precipitous
cascade to join the Southern Guaso Nyero. The
country around this junction is some of the
roughest I saw in Africa.

We camped at the spot where the river ran
at about its maximum distance from the moim-
tains. Om- tents were pitched beneath the shade
of tall and refreshing trees.

324 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

A number of Masai women visited us, laughing
and joking with Billy in their quizzically hxmior-
ous fashion. Just as we were sitting down at
table an Englishman wandered out of the greenery
and approached. He was a small man with a
tremendous red beard, wore loose garments and
tennis shoes, and strolled up, his hands in his
pockets and smoking a cigarette. This was V.,
a man of whom we had heard. A member of a
historical family, officer in a crack EngUsh regi-
ment, he had resigned everything to come into
this wild country. Here he had built a boma,
or enclosed compound, and engaged himself in
acquiring Masai sheep in exchange foe beads, wire,
and cloth. Obviously the profits of such trans-
actions could not be the temptation. He liked
the life, and he liked his position of influence
with these proud and savage people. Strangely
enough, he cared little for the sporting possibilities
of the country, though of course he did a Uttle
occasional shooting ; but was quite content with
his trading, his growing knowledge of and inti-
macy with the Masai, and his occasional tre-
mendous journeys. To the casual and infre-
quent stranger his attitude was reported most
imcertain.

We invited him to tea, which he accepted, and

THE LOWER BENCHES. 325

we fell into conversation. He and C. were al-
ready old acquaintances. The man, I found, was
shy about talking of the things that interested
him; but as they most decidedly interested us
also we managed to convey an impression of
our sincerity. Thereafter he was most friendly.
His helpfulness, kindness, and courtesy could not
have been bettered. He lent us his own boy as
guide down through the caiions of the Narossara
to the Lower Benches, where we hoped to find
kudu ; he offered store-room to such of our
suppHes as we intended holding in reserve ; he
sent us sheep and eggs as a welcome variety to
our game diet ; and in addition he gave us Masai
implements and ornaments we could not possibly
have acquired in any other way. It is impossible
to buy the personal belongings of this proud
and independent people at any price. The price
of a spear ordinarily runs about two rupees' worth,
when one trades with any other tribe. I know
of a case where a Masai was offered fifty rupees
for his weapon, but refused scornfully. V. ac-
quired these things through friendship ; and
after we had gained his, he was most generous
with them. Thus he presented us with a thing
almost impossible to get and seen rarely outside
of museums — the Masai war bonnet, made of the

326 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

mane of a lion. It is in shape and appearance,
though not in colour, almost exactly like the
grenadier's shako of the last century. In addi-
tion to this priceless trophy, V. also gave us
samples of the cattle bells, both wooden and
metal, ivory ear ornaments, bead bracelets, steel
collars, circumcision knives, sword belts, and
other affairs of like value. But I think that the
apogee of his kindliness was reached when much
later he heard from the native tribes that we
were engaged in penetrating the defiles of the
higher moimtains. Then he sent after us a swift
Masai runner bearing to us a bottle of whisky
and a message to the effect that V. was afraid
we would find it very cold up there ! Think of
what that meant ; turn it well over in your mind,
with all the circumstances of distance from sup-
plies, difficulty of transportation and all ! We
none of us used whisky in the tropics, so we
later returned it with a suitable explanation and
thanks as being too good to waste.

Next morning, under guidance of our friend's
boy, we set out for the Lower Benches, leaving
N'gombe Brown and his outfit to camp indefi-
nitely until we needed him for the return journey.

The whole lie of the land hereabout is, roughly
speaking, in a series of shelves. Behind us were

THE LOWER BENCHES. 327

the high mountains — the Fourth Bench ; we
had been traveUing on the plateau of the Loieta
— ^the Third Bench ; now we were to penetrate
some apparently low hills down an unexpected
thousand feet to the Second Bench. This was
smaller, perhaps only five miles at its widest.
Its outer rim consisted also of low hills conceaUng
a drop of precipitous cliffs. There were no
passes nor canons here — the streams dropped
over in waterfalls — and precarious game trails
offered the only chance for descent. The First
Bench was a mere ledge, a mile or so wide. From
it one looked down into the deep gorge of the
Southern Guaso Nyero, and across to a tangle of
eroded mountains and malpais that filled the
eye. Only far off in an incredible distance were
other blue moimtains that marked the other side
of the great Rift Valley.

Our present task was to drop from the Third
Bench to the Second. For some distance we fol-
lowed the Narossara ; then, when it began to
drop into its tremendous gorge, we continued
along the hillsides above it until, by means of
various " hogs' backs " and tributary canons, we
were able to regain its level far below. The going
was rough and stony, and hard on the porters,
but the scenery was very wild and fine. We

S28 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

met the river bottom again in the pleasantest
oval meadow with fine big trees. The moim-
tains quite surroimded us, towering imminent
above our heads. Ahead of us the stream broke
through between portals that rose the full height
of the ranges. We followed it, and found our-
selves on the Second Bench.

Here was grass, high grass in which the boys
were almost lost to sight. Behind us the ram-
parts rose sheer and high, and over across the
way were some low fifty-foot cliffs that marked
a plateau land. Between the plateau and the
ranges from which we had descended was a sort
of slight flat valley through which meandered
the forest trees that marked the stream.

We turned to the right and marched an hour.
The river gradually approached the plateau, thus
leaving between it and the ramparts a consider-
able plain, and some low foothills. These latter
were reported to be one of the feeding grounds
of the greater kudu.

We made a most delightful camp at the edge of
great trees by the stream. The water flowed at
the bottom of a little ravine, precipitous in most
places, but with gently sloping banks at the
spot we had chosen. It flowed rapidly over
clean gravel, with a hurrying, tinkling soimd.

r

From it we looked down into the deep gorge of the
Southern Oiiaso Nyero.

THE LOWER BENCHES. 329

A broad gravel beach was spread on the hither side
of it, like a spacious secret room in the jungle.
Here too was a clear Uttle slope on which to
sit, with the thicket all about, the clean, swift
little stream below, the high forest arches above,
and the inquisitive smaller creatures hovering
near. Others had been here before us, the wild
things, taking advantage of the easy descent to
drinking water — eland, buffalo, leopard, and
small bucks. The air was almost cloyingly sweet
with a perfume like sage-brush honey.

Our first task was to set our boys to work clear-
ing a space ; the grass was so high and rank that
mere trampling had little effect on it. The
Baganda, Sabakaki, we had been compelled to
leave with the ox team. So our twenty-seven
had become twenty-six.

Next morning C. and I started out very early
with one gunbearer. The direction of the wind
compelled us to a two hours' walk before we
could begin to hunt. The high grass was soaked
with a very heavy dew, and shortly we were as
wet as though we had fallen into the river. A
number of hombiQs and parrots followed us for
some distance, but soon left us in peace. We
saw the Roberts' gazelle and some hartebeeste.

When we had gained a point of vantage, we

11a

880 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

turned back and began to work slowly along the
base of the mountains. We kept on a genersJ
level a hundred feet or so up their slope, just high
enough to give us a point of overlook for any-
thing that might stir either in the flat plateau
foothills or the plains. We also kept a sharp
lookout for signs.

We had proceeded in this manner for an hour
when in an opening between two bushes below
us, and perhaps five hundred yards away, we saw
a leopard standing like a statue, head up, a
most beautiful spectacle. While we watched her
through the glasses, she suddenly dropped flat
out of sight. The cause we discovered to be
three hartebeeste strolling sociably along, stop-
ping occasionally to snatch a mouthful, but
headed always in the direction of the bushes
behind which lay the great cat. Much inter-
ested, we watched them. They disappeared
behind the screen. A sudden flash marked the
leopard's spring. Two badly demoralized harte-
beeste stamped out into the open and away ;
two only. The kill had been made.

We had only the one rifle with us, for we were
supposed to be out after kudu only, and were
travelling as light as possible. No doubt the
Springfield would kill a leopard, if the bullet

THE LOWER BENCHES. 331

landed in the right place. We discussed the
matter. It ended, of course, in our sneaking
down there ; I with the Springfield, and C. with
his knife unsheathed. Our precautions and trepi-
dations were wasted. The leopard had carried
the hartebeeste bodily some distance, had thrust
it under a bush, and had departed. C. surmised
it would return towards evening.

Therefore we continued after kudu. We
found old signs, proving that the beasts visited
this country, but nothing fresh. We saw, how-
ever, the first sing- sing, some impalla, some
klipspringer, and Chanler's reed-buck.

At evening we made a crafty stalk atop the
mesa-like foothills to a point overlooking the
leopard's kill. We lay here looking the place
over inch by inch through our glasses, when an
ejaculation of disgust from Kongoni called our
attention. There at another spot that con-
foimded beast sat like a house cat watching
us cynically. Either we had come too soon, or
she had heard us and retired to what she con-
sidered a safe distance. There was of course no
chance of getting nearer ; so I sat down, for a
steadier hold, and tried her anyway. At the
shot she leaped high in the air, rolled over once,
then recovered her feet and streaked off at full

332 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

speed. Just before disappearing over a alight
rise, she stopped to look back. I tried her
again. We concluded this shot a miss, as the
distance and light were such that only sheer luck
could have landed the bullet. However, that
luck was with us. Later developments showed
that both shots had hit. One cut a foreleg, but
without breaking a bone, and the other had hit
the paunch. One was at 380 paces and the other
at 490.

We found blood on the trail, and followed it
a hundred yards and over a small ridge to a wide
patch of high grass. It was now dark, the
grass was very high, and the animal probably
desperate. The situation did not look good to
us, badly armed as we were. So we returned
to camp, resolved to take up the trail again in
the morning.

Every man in camp turned out next day to
help beat the grass. C, with the '405, stayed to
direct and protect the men ; while I, with the
Springfield, sat down at the head of the ravine.
Soon I could hear the shrieks, rattles, shouts,
and whistles of the line of men as they beat
through the grass. Small grass bucks and hares
bounded past me ; birds came whirring by. I
sat on a httle ant hill spying as hard as I could

THE LOWER BENCHES.

in all directions. Suddenly the beaters fell to
dead silence. Guessing this as a signal to me
that the beast had been seen, I ran to climb a
higher ant hill to the left. From there I dis-
cerned the animal plainly, sneaking along belly
to eaxth, exactly in the manner of a cat after a
sparrow. It was not a woods-leopard, but the
plains-leopard, or cheetah, supposed to be a com-
paratively harmless beast.

At my shot she gave one spring forward and
rolled over into the grass. Tlie nearest porters
yelled, and rushed in. I ran, too, as fast as I
could, but was not able to make myself heard
above the row. An instant later the beast
came to its feet with a savage growl and charged
the nearest of the men. She was crippled, and
could not move as quickly as usual, but could
hobble along faster than her intended victim
could run. This was a tall and very conceited
Kavirondo. He fled, but ran around in circles
in and out of his excited companions. The
cheetah followed him, and him only, with most
single-minded purpose.

I dared not shoot while men were in the line
of fire even on the other side of the cheetah, for
I knew the high-power bullet would at that
range go right on through, and I fairly spHt my

884 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

throat trying to clear the way. It seemed five
minutes, though it was probably only as many
seconds, before I got my chance. It was high
time. The cheetah had reared to strike the
man down.* My shot bowled her over. She
jumped to her feet again, made another dash at
the thoroughly scared Kavirondo, and I killed
her just at his coat-tails.

The cheetahs ordinarily are supposed to be
cowards, although their size and power are equal
to that of other leopards. Nobody is afraid of
them. Yet this particular animal charged with
all the ferocity and determination of the lion,
and would certainly have killed or badly mauled
my man.f To be sure it had been woimded,
and had had all night to think about it.

In the relief from the tension we all burst into
shrieks of laughter; all except the near- victim
of the scrimmage, who managed only a sickly
smile. Our mirth was short. Out from a
thicket over a hundred yards away walked one of
the men, who had been in no way involved in
the fight, calmly announcing that he had been
shot. We were sceptical, but he turned his

* This is an interesting fact — thitt she reared to strike instead of
springing.

t It must be remembered that this beast had ihe evening before
killed a 350-pound hartebeeste with ease.

THE LOWER BENCHES. 335

back and showed us the bullet hole at the lower
edge of the ribs. One of my bullets, after
passing through the cheetah, had ricocheted
and picked this poor fellow out from the whole
of an empty landscape. And this after I had
delayed my rescue fairly to the point of danger
in order to avoid all chance of hurting some
one !

We had no means of telling how deeply the
bullet had penetrated ; so we reassured the
man, and detailed two men to assist him back
to camp by easy stages. He did not seem to be
suffering much pain, and he had lost little strength.

At camp, however, we found that the woimd
was deep. C. generously offered to make a forced
march in order to get the boy out to a hospital.
By hitting directly across the rough country
below the benches it was possible to shorten the
journey somewhat, provided V. could persuade
the Masai to furnish a guide. The country was
a desert, and the water scarce. We lined up our
remaining twenty- six men and selected the
twelve best and strongest. These we offered
a month and a half's extra wages for the trip.
We then made a hammock out of one of the
groimd cloths, and the same afternoon C. started.
I sent with him four of my own men as far as the

336 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

ox-wagon for the purpose of bringing back more
supplies. They returned the next afternoon,
bringing also a report from C. that all was well so
far, and that he had seen a lion. He made the
desert trip without other casualty than the loss
of his riding mule, and landed the wounded man
in the hospital all right. In spite of C.'s expert
care on the journey out, and the best of treat-
ment later, the boy, to my great distress, died
eleven days after reaching the hospital. C. was
gone just two weeks.

In the meantime I sent out my best trackers
in all directions to look for kudu signs, con-
ceiving this the best method of covering the
country rapidly. In this manner I shortly
determined that chances were smaU here, and
made up my mind to move down to the edge
of the bench where the Narossara makes its
plunge. Before doing so, however, I hunted
for and killed a very large eland bull reported
by MavTouki. This beast was not only one of
the largest I ever saw, but wa^ in especially fine
coat. He stood five feet six inches high at
the shoulder ; was nine feet eight inches long,
without the tail ; and would weigh twenty-five
hundred poimds. The men were delighted with
this acquisition. I now had fourteen porters,

Our camp at the Xarossara

Our camp in Lengeetoto.

THE LOWER BENCHES. 337

the three giinbearers, the cook, and the two
boys. They surrounded each tiny fire with
switches full of roasting meat ; they cut off
great hunks for a stew ; they made quantities
of biltong, or jerky.

Next day I left Kongoni and one porter at the
old camp, loaded my men with what they could
carry, and started out. We marched a httle
over two hours ; then found ourselves beneath
a lone mimosa tree about a quarter-mile from
the edge of the bench. At this point the stream
drops into a httle canon preparatory to its
plunge; and the plateau rises ever so gently in
tremendous chffs. I immediately dispatched the
porters back for another load. A fine sing-sing
liu-ed me across the river. I did not get the sing-
sing, but had a good fight with two Hons, as
narrated elsewhere.*

In this spot we camped a number of days ;
did a heap of hard chmbing and spying ; killed
another Hon out of a band of eight ;* thoroughly
determined that we had come at the wrong time
for kudu, and decided on another move.

This time our journey lasted five hours, so
that our relaying consumed three days. We
broke back through the ramparts, by means of

• "The Land of Footprints."

338 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

another pass we had discovered when looking
for kudu, to the Third Bench again. Here we
camped in the vaUey of Lengeetoto.

This valley is one of the most beautiful and
secluded in this part of Africa. It is shaped Uke
an ellipse, five or six miles long by about three
miles wide, and is completely surrounded by
mountains. The ramparts of the western side —
those forming the walls of the Fourth Bench —
rise in sheer rock cliffs, forest crowned. To the
east, from which direction we had just come,
were high, rounded mountains. At simrise they
cut clear in an outline of milky slate against the
sky.

The floor of this ellipse was surfaced in gentle
imdulations, like the low swells of a summer sea.
Between each swell a singing, clear-watered
brook leapt emd dashed or loitered through its
jungle. Into the mountains ran broad upward-
flung valleys of green grass ; and groves of great
forest trees marched down canons and out a
short distance into the plains. Everything was
fresh and green and cool. We needed blankets
at night, and each morning the dew was cool and
sparkling, and the sky very blue. Underneath
the forest trees of the stream beds and the
canon were leafy rooms as small as a closet, or

THE LOWER BENCHES. 339

great as cathedral aisles. And in the short brush
dwelt rhinoceros and impalla ; in the jungles
were buffalo and elephant ; on the plains we saw
giraffe, hartebeeste, zebra, duiker ; and in the
bases of the hills we heard at evening and early
morning the roaring of lions.

In this charming spot we lingered eight days.
Memba Sasa and I spent most of our time trying
to get one of the jimgle-dwelling buffalo without
his getting us. In this we were finally successful.*
Then, as it was about time for C. to return, we
moved back to V.'s boma on the Narossara ;
relaying, as usual, the carrying of our effects. At
this time I had had to lay off three more men on
account of various sorts of illness, so was still
more cramped for transportation facihties. As
we were breaking camp a lioness leaped to her
feet from where she had been lying under a
bush. So near was it to camp that I had not
my rifle ready. She must have been lying there
within two hundred yards of om* tents, watching
all our activities.

We drew into V.'s boma a little aftertwoo'clock.
The man in charge of our tent did not put in
an appearance imtil next day. Fortunately V.
had an extra tent, which he lent us. We camped

♦ «• The Land of Footprints. '

340 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

near the river, just outside the edge of the river
forest. The big trees sent their branches out
over us very iai above, while a winding path led
us to the banks of the river where was a dingle
like an inner room. After dark we sat with V.
at our little camp fire. It was all very beautiful
— the skjrful of tropical stars, the silhouette of
the forest shutting them out, the velvet blackness
of the jungle flickering with fireflies, the purer
outlines of the hilltops and distant mountains to
the left, the porters' tiny fires before the little
white tents ; and in the distance, from the
direction of V.'s boma, the irregular throb of the
dance drum £ind the occasional snatch of barbaric
singing borne down on the night wind from
where his Wakambas were holding an n'goma.
A pair of ibis that had been ejected when we
made camp contributed intermittent outraged
and raucous squawks from the tiptop of some
neighbouring tree.

XXXIX.

NOTES ON THE MASAI.

IT is in no way my intention to attempt a com-
prehensive description of this unique people.
My personal observation is, of course, inadequate
to that task, and the numerous careful works on
the subject are available to the interested reader.
The southern branch of the race, among whom
we were now travelling, are very fine physically.
Men close to seven feet in height are not at all
uncommon, and the average is well above six.
They are strongly and Uthely made. Their skins
are a red-brown or bronze, generally brought
to a high state of poHsh by Kberal anointing.
In feature they resemble more the Egyptian or
Abyssinian than the negro cast of countenance.
The women are tall and well formed, with proud,
quaintly quizzical faces. Their expressions and
demeanour seem to indicate more independence
and initiative than is usual with most savage

342 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

women, but whether this is actually so or not
I cannot say.

On this imposing and pleasing physical foun-
dation your true Masai is content to build a very
slight superstructure of ornament. His ear-
lobes are always stretched to hang down in long
loops, in which small medals, ornaments, decor-
ated blocks of wood, or the like, are inserted.
Long, heavy ovals of ivory, grooved to accom-
modate the flesh loop, very finely etched in
decorative designs, are occasionally worn as
" stretchers." Aroimd the neck is a slender
iron collar, and on the arms are one or two
ghttering bracelets. The sword belt is of leather
heavily beaded, with a short dangling fringe of
steel beads. Through this the short blade is
thrust. When in full dress the warrior further
sports a hollow iron knee bell, connected with the
belt by a string of cowrie shells or beads. Often
is added a curious triangular strip of skin fitting
over the chest, and reaching about to the waist.
A robe or short cloak of short-haired sheepskin is
sometimes carried for warmth, but not at all for
modesty. The weapons are a long, narrow- bladed
heavy spear, the buffalo hide shield, the short
sword, and the war club or rungs. The women
are always shaven-headed, wear vohuninous

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 343

robes of soft leather, and carry a great weight
of heavy wire wound into anklets and stock-
ings, and brought to a high state of polish.
So extensive are these decorations that they
really form a sort of armour, with breaks only
for the elbow and the knee joints. The married
women wear also a great outstanding collar.

The Masai are pastoral, and keep immense
herds and flocks. Therefore they inhabit the
grazing countries, and are nomadic. Their
villages are invariably arranged in a wide circle,
the low huts of mud and wattles facing inwards.
The spaces between the huts are filled in with thick
dense thorn brush, thus enclosing a strong corral,
or boma. These villages are called manyattas.
They are built by the women in an incredibly
brief space of time. Indeed, an overchief stop-
ping two days at one place has been known to
cause the construction of a complete village, to
serve only for that period. He then moved on,
and the manyatta was never used again !
Nevertheless these low rounded huts, in shape
like a loaf of bread, give a fictitious impression
of great strength and permanency. The smooth
and hardened mud resembles masonry or con-
crete work. As a matter of fact it is the thinnest
sort of a shell over plaited withies. The single

344 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

entrance to this compound may be closed by
thorn bush, so that at night, when the lions are
abroad, the Masai and all his herds dwell quite
peaceably find safely inside the boma. Twelve
to twenty huts constitute a village.

When the grass is fed down, the village moves
to a new location. There is some regulation about
this, determined by the overchiefs, so that one
village does not interfere with another. Beside
the few articles of value or of domestic use, the
only things carried away from an old village are
the strongly-woven shield-shaped doors. These
are strapped along the flanks of the donkeys,
while the other goods rest between. A donkey
pack, Masai fashion, is a marvellous affair that
would not stay on ten minutes for a white man.

The Masai perform no agriculture whatever, nor
will they eat game meat. They have no desire
whatever for any of the white man's provisions
except sugar. In fact, their sole habitual diet is
mixed cow's blood and milk — no fruits, no
vegetables, no grains, rarely flesh ; a striking
commentary on extreme vegetarian claims. The
blood they obtain by shooting a very sharp-pointed
arrow into the neck vein of the cow. After the
requisite amount has been drained, the wound is
closed and the animal turned into the herd to

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 345

rcQuperate. The blood and milk are then shaken
together in long gourds. Certainly the race
seems to thrive on this strange diet. Only rarely,
on ceremonial occasions or when transportation
is difficult, do they eat mutton or goat flesh, but
never beef.

Of labour, then, about a Masai village, it
follows that there is practically none. The
women build the manyattas ; there is no cook-
ing, no tilling of the soil, no searching for wild
fruits. The herd have to be watched by day,
and driven in at the fall of night ; that is the
task of the boys and the youths who have not
gone through with the quadriennial circumcision
ceremonies and become El-morani, or warriors.
Therefore the grown men are absolutely and
completely gentlemen of leisure. In civilization,
the less men do the more important they are
inclined to think themselves. It is so here.
Socially the Masai consider themselves several
cuts above anybody else in the country. As
social superiority lies mostly in thinking so hard
enough — so that the inner behef expresses itself
in the outward attitude and manner — the Masai
carry it off. Their haughtiness is magnificent.
Also they can look as unsmiling and bored as
anybody anywhere. Consequently they are either

346 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

greatly admired, or greatly hated and feared, as
the case happens to be, by all the other tribes.
The Kikuyu young men frankly ape the customs
and ornaments of their powerful neighbours.
Even the British Government treats them very
gingerly indeed, and allows these economically
useless savages a latitude the more agricultural
tribes do not enjoy. Yet I submit that any
people whose property is in immense herds can
more easily be brought to terms than those who
have nothing so valuable to lose.

As a matter of fact the white man and the
Masai have never had it out. When the English,
a few years since, were engaged in opening the
country they carried on quite a stoutly contested
little war with the Wakamba. These people put
up so good a fight that the English anticipated
a most bitter struggle with the Masai, whose
territory lay next beyond. To their surprise
the Masai made peace.

" We have watched the war with the Wakam-
ba," they said, in effect, " and we have seen the
Wakamba kill a great many of your men. But
more of your men came in always, and there
were no more Wakamba to come in and take
the places of those who were killed. We are
not afraid. If we should war with you, we

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 347

would undoubtedly kill a great many of you,
and you would undoubtedly kill a great many
of us. But there can be no use in that. We
want the ranges for our cattle ; you want a road.
Let us then agree."

The result is that to-day the Masai look upon
themselves as an imconquered people, and bear
themselves — towards the other tribes — accordingly.
The shrewd common sense and observation evi-
denced above must have convinced them that
war now would be hopeless.

This acute intelligence is not at all incompatible
with the rather bigoted and narrow outlook on
life inevitable to a people whose ideals are made
up of fancied superiorities over the rest of
mankind. Witness, the feudal aristocracies of
the Middle Ages.

With this type the underlying theory of mas-
culine activity is the military. Some outlet for
energy was needed, and in war it was found.
Even the ordinary necessities of primitive agri-
culture and of the chase were lacking. The Masai
ate neither vegetable, grain, nor wild game.
His whole young manhood, then, could be spent
in no better occupation than the pursuit of war-
like glory — and cows.

On this rested the peculiar social structure of

S4S AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

the people. In perusing the following fragmentary
account the reader must first of all divest his
mind of what he would, according to white
man's standards, consider moral or immoral.
Such things must be viewed from the standpoint
of the people beheving in them. The Masai are
moral in the sense that they very rigorously live
up to their own customs and creeds. Their
women are strictly chaste in the sense that
they conduct no affairs outside those permitted
within the tribe. No doubt, from the Masai point
of view, we are ourselves immoral.

The small boy, as soon as he is big enough to
be responsible — and that is very early in Hfe — is
given, in company with others, charge of a flock
of sheep. Thence he graduates to the precious
herds of cows. He wears Httle or nothing; is armed
with a throwing club (a long stick), or perhaps later
a broad-bladed, short-headed spear of a pattern
peculiar to boys and young men. His life is thus
over the free open hills and veld until, some-
where between the ages of eighteen and twenty-
one, the year of the circumcision comes. Then
he enters on the long ceremonies that initiate
him into the warrior class. My knowledge of
the details of this subject is limited ; for while I
had the luck to be in Masailand on the fourth year,

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 349

such things are not exhibited freely. The
curious reader can find more on the subject in
other books ; but as this is confined to personal
experiences I will tell only what I have myself
elicited.

The youth's shaved head is allowed to grow its
hair. He hangs around his brow a dangling
string of bright-coloured bird skins stuffed out
in the shape of httle cylinders, so that at a short
distance they look like curls. For something
like a month of probation he wears these, then
undergoes the rite. For ten days thereafter
he and his companions, their heads daubed with
clay and ashes, clad in long black robes, Hve out
in the brush. They have no provision, but are
privileged to steal what they need. At the end
of the ten days they return to the manyattas.
A three-day n'goma, or dance, now completes
their treinsformation to the El-morani class.
It finishes by an obscene night dance, in the
course of which the new warriors select their
partners.

For ten or twelve years these young men are
El-morani. They dwell in a separate manyatta.
With them dwell promiscuously all the young
unmarried women of the tribe. There is no per-
manent pairing off, no individual property, no

360 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

marriage. Nor does this constitute flagrant
immorality, difficult as it may be for us to see that
fact. The institution, like all national institutions,
must have had its origin in a very real need
and a very practical expediency. The fighting
strength of the tribe must be kept up, and by
the young and vigorous stock. On the other
hand, every man of mihtary age must be foot
free to serve in the consttmt wars and forays.
This institution is the means. And, mind you,
unchastity in the form of illicit intercourse
outside the manyatta of the El-morani, whether
with her own or another tribe, subjects the
women to instant death.

The El-morani in full fighting rig are imposing.
They are, as I have explained, tall and of fine
physique. The cherished and prized weapon is
the long, narrow-bladed spear. This is five and
six feet long, with a blade over three feet by as
many inches, and with a long iron shoe. In
fact, only a bare hand-hold of wood is provided.
It is of formidable weight, but so well balanced
that a flip cast with the wrist will drive it clear
through an enemy. A short sword and a heavy-
headed war club complete the offensive weapons.
The shield is of buffalo hide, oval in shape, and
decorated with a genuine heraldry, based on

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 351

genealogy. A circlet of black ostrich feathers
in some branches surrounds the face and stands
high above the head. In the southern districts
the warriors wear two single black ostrich
plumes tied one either side the head, and slanting
a little backwards. They walk with a mincing
step, so that the two feathers bob gently up and
down like the waving of the circus equestrienne's
filmy skirts.

Naturally the Masai with the Zulu were the
most dreaded of all the tribes of Africa. They
were constantly raiding in all directions as far
as their sphere of operations could reach, cap-
turing cattle and women as the prizes of war.
Now that the white man has put a stop to the
ferocious intertribal wars, the El-morani are out
of a job. The military organization is still
carried on as before. What will happen to the
morals of the people it would be difficult to say.
The twelve years of imposed peace have not been
long enough seriously to deteriorate the people ;
but, inevitably, complete idleness will tell.
Either the people must change their ideals and
become industrious — which is extremely un-
likely— or they will degenerate.

As a passing thought, it is a curious and for-
midable fact that the prohibition of intertribal

352 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

wars and forays all through East Central Africa
had already permitted the population to increase
to a point of discomfort. Many of the districts
are becoming so crowded as to overflow. What
will happen in the long run only time can
tell — famines are weakening things, while war
at least hardens a nation's fibre. This is not
necessarily an argument for war. Only every-
where in the worid the white man seems, with
the best of intentions, to be upsetting natural
balances without substituting anything for
them. We are better at preventing things than
causing them.

At the age of thirty, or thereabout, the
El-morani becomes an Elder. He may now
drink and smoke, vices that in the Spartan days
of his military service were rigorously denied
him. He may also take a wife or wives, accord-
ing to his means, and keep herds of cattle. His
wives he purchases from their parents, the usual
medium of payment being cows or sheep. The
young women who have been living in the
El-morani village are considered quite as desir-
able as the young virgins. If there are children,
these are taken over by the husband. They
are considered rather a recommendation than
a detriment, for they prove the girl is fruitful.

Masai men and women.

jflb

tK^K '

m A

i^^ ^ i

vL JH

f^i ^^1

^^^^^^^^^^^^Bfcg-jirittf ^BMi0>> ■' *

■ :j^-; -^m

In the southern districts tl»e warriors wear two single
black ostrioii feathers.

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 353

Relieved of all responsibility, the ex-warrior
now has full leisure to be a gentleman. He
drinks a fermented liquor made from milk ; he
takes snuff or smokes the rank native tobacco ;
he conducts interminable diplomatic negotiations ;
he oversees minutely the forms of ceremonials;
he helps to shape the policies of his manyatta,
and he gives his attention to the accumulation
of cows.

The cow is the one thing that arouses the
Masai's full energies. He will undertake any
journey, any task, any danger, provided the
reward therefor is homed cattle. And a cow is
the one thing he will on no account trade, sell,
or destroy. A very few of them he milks, and
a very few of them he periodically bleeds ; but
the majority, to the numbers of thousands upon
thousands, live uselessly until they die of old
age. They are branded, generally on the flanks
or ribs, with strange large brands, and are so
constantly handled that they are tamer and
more gentle than sheep. I have seen upwards
of a thousand head in sole charge of two old
women on foot. These ancient dames drove the
beasts in a long file to water, then turned them
quite easily and drove them back again. Op-
posite our camp they halted their charges and

12

S54 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

came to make us a long visit. The cattle stood
in their tracks until the call was over; not one
offered even to stray off the baked earth in search
of grasses.

The Masai cattle king knows his property
individually. Each beast has its name. Some
of the wealthier are worth in cattle, at settler's
prices, close to a hundred thousand dollars.
They are men of importance in their own council
huts, but they lack many things dear to the
savage heart simply because they are unwilling
to part with a single head of stock in order to
procure them.

In the old days forays and raids tended more
or less to keep the stock down. Since the
White Man's Peace the herds are increasing.
In the country between the Mau Escarpment
and the Narossara Mountains we found the feed
eaten down to the earth two months before the
next rainy season. In the meantime the few
settlers are hard put to it to buy cattle at any
price wherewith to stock their new farms. The
situation is an anomaly which probably cannot
continue. Some check will have eventually to be
devised, either limiting the cattle, or compelling
an equitable sale of the surplus. Certainly the
present situation represents a sad economic

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 355

waste — of the energies of a jfine race destined to
rust away, and of the lives of tens of thousands
of valuable beasts brought into existence only to
die of old age. If these matchless herders find
cattle breeders could be brought into relation
with the world's markets everybody would be
the better.

Besides his sacred cattle the Masai raises also
lesser herds of the hairy sheep of the country.
These he used for himself only on the rare occa-
sions of soUtary forced marches away from his
herds, or at the times of ceremony. Their real
use is as a trading medium — for more cattle !
Certain white men and Somahs conduct regular
trading expeditions into Masaileind, bringing in
small herds of cows bought with trade goods
from the other tribes. These they barter with
the Masai for sheep. In Masai estimation a
cow is the most valuable thing on esirth, while a
sheep is only a medium of exchange. With such
notions it is easy to see that the white man can
make an advantageous exchange, in spite of the
Masai's well-known shrewdness at a bargain.
Each side is satisfied. There remains only to
find a market for the sheep — an easy matter.
A small herd of cows will, in the long run, bring
quite a decent profit.

356 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

The Masai has very httle use for white man's
products. He will trade for squares of cloth,
beads of certain kinds and in a limited quantity,
brass and iron wire of heavy gauge, blankets and
sugar. That, barring occasional personal idio-
syncrasy, is about all. For these things he
will pay also in sheep. Masai curios are particu-
larly difficult to get hold of. I rather like them
for their independence in that respect. I cer-
tainly should refuse to sell my tennis shoes from
my feet merely because some casual Chinaman
happened to admire them !

The women seem to occupy a position quite
satisfactory to themselves. To be sure they do
the work ; but there is not much work ! They
appear to be well treated ; at least they are
always in good spirits, laughing and joking with
each other, and always ready with quick repartee
to remarks flung at them by the safari boys.
They visited camp freely, and would sit down
for a good lively afternoon of joking. Their
expressions were quizzical, with a shy intelligent
humour. In spite of the apparent imabashed
freedom of their deportment they always be-
haved with the utmost circumspection ; nor
did our boys ever attempt any familiarity. The
unobtrusive lounging presence in the backgroimd

NOTES ON THE MASAI. 357

of two warriors with long spears may have had
something to do with this.

The Masai government is centred in an over-
lord or king. His orders seemed to be implicitly
obeyed. The present king I do not know, as
the old king, Lenani, had just died at an ad-
vanced age. In former days the traveller on
entering Masailand was met by a sub-chief.
This man planted his long spear upright in the
ground, and the intending traveller flung over it
coils of the heavy wire. A very generous traveller
who completely covered the spear then had no
more trouble. One less lavish was likely to be
held up for further impositions as he penetrated
the country. This tax was called the honga.

The Masai language is one of the most difficult
of all the native tongues. In fact, the white
man is almost completely unable even to pro-
noimce many of the words. V., who is a " Masai-
man," who knows them intimately, and who
possesses their confidence, does not pretend to
talk with them in their o^vn tongue, but employs
the universal Swahili.

XL.
THROUGH THE ENCHA^TED FOREST.

WE delayed at V.'s boma three days, wait-
ing for C. to turn up. He maintained
a little force of Wakamba, as the Masai would
not take service. The Wakamba are a hunting
tribe, using both the spear and the poisoned
arrow to kill their game. Their bows are short
and powerful, and the £utows exceedingly well
fashioned. The poison is made from the wood
of a certain fat tree, with fruit like gigantic
bologna sausages. It is cut fine, boiled, and the
product evaporated away until only a black
sticky substance remains. Into this the point
of the arrow is dipped ; and the head is then
protected until required by a narrow strip of
buckskin woimd around and around it. I
have never witnessed the effects of this poison ;
but V. told me he had seen an eland die in
twenty-two minutes from so slight a wound in

THE ENCHANTED FOREST. 359

the shoulder that it ran barely a hundred yards
before stopping. The poison more or less loses
its efficiency, however, after the sticky, tarlike
substance has dried out.

I offered a half-rupee as a prize for an archery
competition, for I was curious to get a view of
their marksmanship. The bull's-eye was a piece
of typewriter paper at thirty paces.* This they
managed to pimcture only once out of fifteen
tries, though they never missed it very widely.
V. seemed quite put out at this poor showing, so
I suppose they can ordinarily do better ; but I
imagine they are a good deal like our hunting
Indians — poor shots, but very skilful at stalking
close to a beast.

Our missing porter, with the tent, was brought
in next afternoon by Kongoni, who had gone
in search of him. The man was a big, strong
Kavirondo. He was sullen, and merely ex-
plained that he was "tired." This excuse for
a five hours' march after eight days' rest ! I
fined him eight rupees, which I gave Kongoni,
and ordered him twenty-five lashes. Six weeks
later he did the same trick. C. allotted him
fifty lashes, and had him led thereafter by a
short rope around the neck. He was probably

* Eight by ten and a half inches.

860 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

addicted to opium. This was the only man to
be formally kibokoed on the whole trip — a good
testimony at once to C.'s management, the dis-
crimination we had used in picking them out,
and the settled reputations we had by now
acquired.

After C.'s return we prepared to penetrate
straight back through the great rampart of
mountains to the south and west.

We crossed the bush-grown plains, and en-
tered a gently rising long caiion flanked on
either side by towering ranges that grew higher
and higher the farther we proceeded. In the very
centre of the mountains, apparently, this canon
ended in a small round valley. There appeared
to be no possible exit, save by the way we had
come, or over the almost perpendicular ridges a
thousand feet or more above. Nevertheless,
we discovered a narrow ravine that slanted
up into the hills to the left. Following it we
found ourselves very shortly in a great forest
on the side of a mountain. Hanging creepers
brushed our faces, tangled vines hung across
our view, strange and unexpected openings
offered themselves as a means through which
we could see a Uttle closer into the heart of
mystery. The air was cool and damp and

I offered a half rupee as ti prize for an arcliorj- oonipotition

THE ENCHANTED FOREST. 361

dark. The occasional shafts of sunlight or
glimpses of blue sky served merely to accentuate
the soft gloom. Save that we climbed always,
we could not tell where we were going.

The ascent occupied a little over an hour.
Then through the tree trunks and undergrowth
we caught the sky-line of the crest. When we
topped this we took a breath, and prepared our-
selves for a corresponding descent. But in a
hundred yards we popped out of the forest to
find ourselves on a new level. The Fourth
Bench had been attained.

It was a grass coimtry of many low, rounded
hills and dipping valleys, with fine isolated
oaklike trees here and there in the depressions,
and compact, beautiful oaklike groves thrown
over the hills like blankets. Well-kept, green,
trim, intimate, it should have had church spires
and gray roofs in appropriate spots. It was a
refreshment to the eye after the great and austere
spaces among which we had been dwelling, repose •
to the spirit after the alert and dangerous lands.
The dark-curtained forest seemed, fancifully, an
enchantment through which we had gained to
this remote smiling land, nearest of all to the
blue sky.

We continued south for two days ; and then,

12a

362 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

as the narrative will show, were forced to return.
We found it always the same type ; pleasant
sleepy Uttle valleys winding around and between
low hills crowned with soft groves and forests.
It was for all the world like northern Surrey, or
like some of the live oak country of California.
Only this we soon discovered : in spite of the
enchantment of the magic-protecting forest, the
upper benches too were subject to the spell that
lies over all Africa. These apparently Httle
valleys were in reality the matter of an hour's
journey to cross ; these rounded hills, to all
seeming only two good golf strokes from bottom
to top, were matters of serious climbing ; these
compact, squared groves of oaklike trees were
actually great forests of giants in which one
could lose one's self for days, in which roamed
herds of elephant and buffalo. It looked com-
pact because we could see all its constituent
elements. As a matter of fact, it was neat and
tidy ; only we were, as usual, too small for it.

At the end of two hours' fast marching we had
made the distance, say, from the clubhouse to
the second hole. Then we camped in a genuinely
little grove of really small trees overlooking a
green valley bordered with wooded hills. The
prospect was indescribably delightful ; a sort of

THE ENCHANTED FOREST. 363

Siinday-moming landscape of groves and green
grass and a feeling of church bells.

Only down the valley, diminished by dis-
tance, all afternoon Masai warriors, in twos and
threes, trooped by, mincing along so that their
own ostrich feathers would bob up and down,
their spears held aslant.

We began to realize that we were indeed in a
new country when our noon thermometer regis-
tered only 66°, and when at sunrise the following
morning it stood at 44°. To us, after eight
months under the equator, this was bitter
weather 1

XLI.
NAIOKOTUKU.

NEXT morning we marched on up the beauti-
ful valley through shoulder-high grasses
wet with dew. At the end of two hours we
came to the limit of Leyeye's knowledge of the
coimtry. It would now be necessary to find
savage guides.

Accordingly, while we made camp, C, with
Leyeye as interpreter, departed in search of a
Masai village. So tall and rank grew the grass,
that we had to clear it out as one would clear
brushwood in order to make room for our tents.

Several hours later C. returned. He had
foimd a very large village; but unfortunately
the savages were engaged in a big n'goma which
could not be interrupted by mere business.
However, the chief was coming to make a friendly
call. When the n'goma should be finished, he

NAIOKOTUKU. 366

would be delighted to furnish us with anything
we might desire.

Almost on the heels of this the chief arrived.
He was a fine old savage, over six feet taU, of
well proportioned figure, and with a shrewd, in-
telligent face. The n'goma had him to a limited
extent, for he stumbled over tent ropes, smiled
a bit imcertainly, and slumped down rather
suddenly when he had meant to sit. However,
he stumbled, smiled, and slumped with unas-
sailable dignity.

From beneath his goatskin robe he produced
a long ornamented gourd, from which he offered
us a drink of fermented milk. He took our
refusal good-naturedly. The gourd must have
held a gallon, but he got away with all of its
contents in the course of the interview ; also
several pints of super- sweetened coffee which we
doled out to him a little at a time, and which he
seemed to appreciate extravagantly.

Through Leyeye we exchanged the compli-
ments of the day, and, after the African custom,
told each other how important we were. Oiu*
visitor turned out to be none other than the
brother of Lenani, the paramount chief of all the
Masai. I forget what I was, either the brother
of King George or the nephew of Theodore

866 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Roosevelt — the only two white men every native
has heard of. It may be that both of us were
mistaken, but from his evident authority over
a very wide district we were inclined to beUeve
our visitor.

We told him we wanted guides through the
hills to the southward. He promised them in
a most friendly fashion.

" I do not know the white man," said he.
"I live. always in these mountains. But my
brother Lenani told me ten years ago that some
day the white man would come into my country.
My brother told me that when the white man
came travelling in my country I must treat him
well, for the white man is a good friend but a bad
enemy. I have remembered my brother Lenani's
words, though they were spoken a long time ago.
The white man has been very long in coming ;
but now he is here. Therefore I have brought
you milk to-day, €md to-morrow I will send you
sheep ; and later I will send young men who know
the hills to take you where you wish to go."

We expressed gratification, and I presented
him with a Marble fish knife. The very thin
blade and the ingenious manner in which the
two halves of the handle folded forward over it
pleased him immensely.

NAIOKOTUKU. 867

" No one but myself shall ever use this knife,"
said he.

He had no pockets, but he tucked it away in
his armpit, clamped the muscles down over it,
and apparently forgot it. At least he gave it no
further attention, used his hands as usual, but
retained it as securely as in a pocket.

" To-morrow," he promised at parting, " very
early in the morning, I will send my own son and
another man to guide you ; and I will send a
sheep for your meat."

We arose " very early," packed our few affairs,
picked out four porters — and sat down to wait.
Our plan was to cruise for five days with as Hght
and mobile an outfit as possible, and then to
return for fresh supplies. Billy would take
charge of the main camp during om* absence.
As advisers, we left her Abba AH, Memba Sasa,
and Mohamnaed.

At noon we were still waiting. The possibiUty
of doing a full day's journey was gone, but we
thought we might at least make a start. At
one o'clock, just as we had about given up hope,
the Masai strolled in. They were beautiful, tall,
straight youths, finely formed, with proud fea-
tures and a most graceful carriage. In colour
they were as though made of copper bronze, with

868 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

the same glitter of high lights from their fine-
textured skins. Even in this chilly climate they
were nearly naked. One carried a spear, the
other a bow and arrow.

Joyously we uprose — and sat down again.
We had provided an excellent supply of pro-
visions for our guides ; but on looking over the
lot they discovered nothing — absolutely noth-
ing— that met their ideas.

" What do they want ? " we asked Leyeye in
despair.

" They say they will eat nothing but sheep,"
he reported.

We remembered old Naiokotuku's promise of
sending us sheep, sneered cynically at the feiith
of savages, and grimly set forth to see what we
could buy in the surrounding country. But we
wronged the old man. Less than a mile from
camp we met men driving in as presents not one,
but two sheep. So we abandoned our shopping
tour and returned to camp. By the time one
of the sheep had been made into mutton it was
too late to start. The Masai showed symptoms
of desiring to go back to the village for the
night. This did not please us. We called them
up, and began extravagantly to admire their
weapons, begging to examine them. Once we

Naiokotuku and one of his sons.

NAIOKOTUKU. 369

had them in our hands we craftily discoursed as
follows : —

" These are beautiful weapons, the most
beautiful we have ever seen. Since you are
going so spend the night in our camp, and since
we greatly fear that some of our men might steal
these beautiful weapons, we will ourselves guard
them for you carefully from theft until morning."

So saying, we deposited them inside the tent.
Then we knew we had our Masai safe. They
would never dream of leaving while the most
cherished of their possessions were in hostage.

XUI.
SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST.

HERE we were finaUy off at dawn. It was a
very chilly, wet dawn, with the fog so
thick that we could see not over ten feet ahead.
We had foiu* porters, carrying about twenty-five
pounds apiece of the bare necessities, Kongoni,
and Leyeye. The Masai struck confidently
enough through the mist. We crossed neck-
deep grass flats — where we were thoroughly
soaked — climbed hills through a forest, skirted
apparently for miles an immense reed swamp.
As usual when travelling strange country in a
fog, we experienced that queer feeling of re-
maining in the same spot while fragments of
near-by things are slowly paraded by. When
at length the sun's power cleared the mists, we
found ourselves in the middle of a forest country
of high hills.

Into this forest we now plunged, threading oui

IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST. 371

way here and there where the animal trails
would take us, looking always for fresh elephant
spoor. It would have been quite impossible to
have moved about in any other fashion. The
timber grew on hillsides, and was very lofty
and impressive ; £ind the tropical undergrowth
grew tall, rank, and impenetrable. We could
proceed only by means of the kind assistance of
the elephant, the buffalo, and the rhinoceros.

Elephant spoor we found, but none made
later than three weeks before. The trails were
broad, soHd paths through the forest, as ancient
and beaten as though they had been in con-
tinuous use for years. Unlike the rhino and
buffalo trails, they gave us head room and to
spare. The great creatures had by sheer might
cut their way through the dense, tough growth,
leaving twisted, splintered, wrecked jungle be-
hind them, but no impediment.

By means of these beautiful trails we went
quietly, penetrating farther and farther into the
jimgle. Our httle procession of ten made no
noise. If we should strike fresh elephant tracks,
thus would we hunt them, with all our worldly
goods at our backs, so that at night we could
camp right on the trail.

The day passed almost without incident.

372 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Once a wild crash and a snort told of a rhinoceros,
invisible, but very close. We huddled together,
our rifles ready, uncertain whether or not the
animal would burst from the leafy screen at our
very faces. The Masai stood side by side, the
long spear poised, the bow bent, fine, tense figures
in bronze.

Near sundown we found ourselves by a swift
httle stream in the bottom of a deep ravine.
Here we left the men to make camp, and our-
selves climbed a big mountain on the other side.
It gave us a look abroad over a wilderness of
hills, forested heavily, and a glimpse of the land-
fall far away where no white man had ever been.
This was as far south eis we were destined to get,
though at the time we did not know it. Our
plan was to push on two days more. Near the
top of the ridge we found the unmistakable
tracks of the bongo. This is interesting to zool-
ogists in that it extends the southward range of
this rare and shy beast.

Just at dark we regained our camp. It was
built California fashion — for the first and last
time in Africa : blankets spread on canvas under
the open sky and a gipsy fire at our feet, over
which I myself cooked our very simple meal. As
we were smoking our pipes in sleepy content.

IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST. 373

Leyeye and the two Masai appeared for a shauri.
Said the Masai, —

" We have taken you over the country we
know. There are elephants there sometimes,
but there are no elephants there now. We
can take you farther, and if you wish us to do
so, we will do so ; but we know no more of the
country than you do. But now if we return to
the manyatta to-morrow, we can march two
hours to where are some Wanderobo ; and the
Wanderobo know this country and will take
you through it. If it pleases you, one of us
will go get the Wanderobo, and the other will
stay with you to show good faith."

We rolled our eyes at each other in humorous
despair. Here at the very beginning of the recon-
naiissance we had run against the stone wall of
African indirectness and procrastination. And
just as we thought we had at last settled every-
thing !

" Why," we inquired, " were not the Wande-
robo sent at first, instead of yourselves ? "

" Because," they repHed, with truly engaging
frankness, " our chief, Naiokotuku, thought that
perhaps we might find elephant here in the
country we know ; and then we should get
for ourselves all the presents you would give for

374 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

finding elephant. But the elephant are not
here now, so the Wanderobo will get part of the
present."

That was certainly candid. After some further
talk we decided there was no help for it ; we
must return to camp for a new start.

At this decision the Masai brightened. They
volunteered to set off early with Leyeye, to push
ahead of us rapidly, and to have the Wanderobo
in camp by the time we reached there. We
concealed somewhat cynical smiles, and agreed.

The early start was made, but when we reached
camp we found, not the Wanderobo, but Leyeye
and the Masai huddled over a fire. This was
exasperating, but we could not say much. After
all, the whole matter was no right of ours, but a
manifestation of friendship on the part of Naio-
kotuku. In the early afternoon the sky cleared,
and the ambassadors departed, promising faith-
fully to be back before we slept. We spent the
day writing and in gazing at the vivid view of
the hillside, the forest, and the distant minia-
tm"e prospect before us. Finally we discovered
\^hat made it in essence so strangely familiar.
In vividness and clarity — even in the crudity of its
tones — it was exactly like a coloured photograph !

Of course the savages did not return that

IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST. 375

evening, nor did we really expect them. Just
as a matter of form we packed up the next
morning, and sat down to wait. Shortly before
noon Leyeye and the Masai returned, bringing
with them two of the strange, shy, forest hunters.

But by this time we had talked things over
thoroughly. The lure of the greater kudu was
regaining the strength it had lost by a long
series of disappointments. We had not time
left for both a thorough investigation of the
forests and a raid in the dry hills of the west
after kudu. Mavrouki said he knew of a place
where that animal ranged. So we had come to
a decision.

We called the Masai and Wanderobo before
us. They squatted in a row, their spears planted
before them. We sat in canvas chairs. Leyeye
standing, translated. The affair was naturally of
the greatest deUberation. Li the indirect African
manner we began our shauri.

We asked one simple question at a time, deal-
ing with one simple phase of the subject. This
phase we treated from several different points of
view, in order to be absolutely certain that it
was imderstood. To these questions we re-
ceived replies in this manner : —

" Yes, " the Wanderobo told us," they knew the

376 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

forest ; they knew how to go about in the forest ;
they understood how to find their way in the
forest. They knew the elephant ; they had seen
the elephant many times in the forest ; they
knew where the elephant ranged in the forest "
— and so on through every piece of information
we desired. It is the usual and only siu-e way of
questioning natives.

Thus we learned that the elephant range ex-
tended south through the forests for about seven
days' travel ; that at this time of year the beasts
might be anywhere on that range. This confirmed
our decision. Then said we to Leyeye : —

" TeU the Masai that the bwana m'kubwa is
most pleased with them, and that he is pleased
with the way they have worked for him, and
that he is pleased with the presents they have
brought him. Tell them that he has no goods
here with him, but that he has sent men back
to the boma of bwana Kingozi * for blankets and
wire and cloth, and when those men return he
will make a good present to these Masai and to
Naiokotuku, their chief.

" Tell the Wanderobo that the bwana m'kubwa
is pleased with them, and that he thanks them
for coming so far to tell him of the elephant,

* V.*8 native name — the Master with the Red Beard.

IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST. 377

and that he beUeves they have told him the truth.
Tell them the bwana m'kubwa will not fight the
elephant now, because he has not the time, but
must go to attend to his affairs. But later,
when two years have gone, he will make another
safari, and will come back to this country, and
will again ask these men to lead him out where
he can fight the elephant. And in the mean-
time he will give them i*upees with which to pay
their hut tax to the Government."

After various compliments the sitting rose.
Then we packed up for a few hours' march. In
a short time we passed the chief's village. He
came out to say good-bye. A copper bronze
youth accompanied him, lithe as a leopard.

" My men have told me your words," said he.
" I live always in these mountains, and my young
men will bring me word when you return. I am
glad the white men have come to see me. I
shall have the Wanderobo ready to take you to
fight the elephant when you return."

He then instructed the young man to accom-
pany us for the purpose of bringing back the
presents we had promised. We shook hands
in farewell, and so parted from this friendly and
powerful chief.

XLIII.

THE TOPI CAI\IP.

AT the next camp we stayed for nearly a
-^^^ week.

The country was charming. Mountains sur-
rounded the long ellipse, near one edge of which
we had pitched our tents. The ellipse was some
ten miles long by four or five wide, and its
surface rolled in easy billows to a narrow neck
at the lower end. There we could just make out
in the far distance a conical hill partly closing
the neck. Atop the hill was a Masai manyatta,
very tiny, with indistinct crawling red and brown
blotches that meant cattle and sheep. Beyond
the hill, and through the opening in the ellipse,
we could see to another new coimtry of hills
and meadows and forest groves. In this clear
air they were microscopically distinct. No blue
of atmosphere nor shimmer of heat blurred
their outlines. They were merely made small.

THE TOPI CAMP. 379

Our camp was made in the open above a tiny
stream. We saw wonderful sunrises and sun-
sets, and always spread out before us was the
sweep of om* plains and the unbroken ramparts
that hemmed us in. From these moimtains
meandered small stream- ways marked by narrow
strips of trees and brush, but the most of the
valley was of high green grass. Occasional ant
hills ten feet tall rose conical from the earth ;
and the coimtry was pleasingly broken and
modelled, so that one continually surmounted
knolls, low, round ridges, and the like. Of such
conditions are surprises made.

The elevation here was some 7,000 feet, so
that the nights were cold and the days not too
warm. Our men did not fancy this change of
weather. A good many of them came down
with the fever always latent in their systems,
and others suffered from bronchial colds.

At one time we had down sick eleven men
out of our slender total. However, I believe, in
spite of these sm-face symptoms, that the cold
air did them good. It certainly improved our
own appetites and staying power.

In the thirty or forty square miles of our
valley were many herds of varied game. We here
for the first time foimd Neuman's hartebeeste.

380 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

The type at Narossara, and even in Lengetto, was
the common Coke's hartebeeste, so that between
these closely allied species there interposes at
this point only the barriers of a cUmb and a
forest. These animals and the zebra were the
most plentiful of the game. The zebra were
brilliantly white and black, with magnificent
coats. Thompson's and Roberts' gazelles were
here in considerable niunbers, eland, Roosevelt's
wildebeeste, giraffe, the smaller grass antelopes,
and a fair number of topi. In the hills we saw
buffalo sign, several cheetah, and heard many
lions.

It had been our first plan that C. should
return inunediately to V.'s boma after suppHes,
but in view of the abundance of game we de-
cided to wait over a day. We much desired to
get four topi, and this seemed a good chance
to carry some of them out. Also we wished to
decide for certain whether or not the hartebeeste
here was really of the Neuman variety.

We had great luck. Over the very first hill
from camp we came upon a herd of about a
dozen topi, feeding on a hill across the way.
I knocked down the first one standing at just
250 paces. The herd then spHt and broke to
right and left. By shooting very carefully and

THE TOPI CAMP. 381

steadily I managed to kill three more before
they were out of range. The last shot was at
325 paces. In all I fired seven shots, and hit
six times. This was the best shooting I did in
Africa — or anywhere else — and is a first-rate ar-
gmnent for the Springfield and the high velocity,
sharp-pointed bullet.

Overjoyed at our luck in collecting these ani-
mals so promptly, so near camp, and at a time
so very propitious for handling the trophies, we
set to the job of skinning and cutting up. The
able-bodied men all came out from camp to carry
in the meat. They appeared, grinning broadly,
for they had had no meat since leaving the
Narossara. C. and I saw matters well under
way, and then went on to where I had seen a
cheetah the day before. Hardly were we out of
sight when two lions saimtered over the hill
and proceeded to appropriate the meat ! The
two men in charge promptly withdrew. A mo-
ment later a dozen porters on their way out
from camp topped the hill and began to yell at
the Hons. The latter then slowly and reluctantly
retreated.

We were very sorry we had not stayed. The
valley seemed populated with lions, but in
general they were, for some reason, strictly

382 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

nocturnal. By day they inhabited the fastnesses
of the mountain ranges. We never succeeded
in tracing them in that large and labyrinthine
country ; nor at any time could we induce them
to come to kills. Either their natural prey was
so abundant that they did not fancy ready-
killed food ; or, what is more likely, the cold
nights prevented the odour of the carcasses from
carrying far. We heard lions every night ; and
every morning we conscientiously turned out
before daybreak to crawl up to our bait through
the wet, cold grass, but with no results. That
very night we were jerked from a sound sleep
by a tremendous roar almost in camp. So close
was it that it seemed to each of us but just out-
side the tent. We came up all standing. The
lion, apparently, was content with that prac-
tical joke, for he moved off quietly. Next morn-
ing we found where the tracks had led down to
water, not ten yards away.

We spent the rest of that day spying on the
game herds. It is fascinating work, to lie belly
down on a tall ant hill, glasses steadied by elbows,
picking out the individual animals and discuss-
ing them low- voiced with a good companion. C.
and I looked over several hundred hartebeeste,
trying to decide their identity. We were neither

THE TOPI CAMP. 383

of us familiar with the animal, and had only
recollections of the book distinctions. Finally
I picked out one that seemed to present the
most marked characteristics — and missed him
clean at 280 yards. Then I took three shots at
180 yards to down a second choice. The poor
shooting was forgotten, however, in our deter-
mination that this was indeed Neumanii.

A vain hunt for lions occupied all the next
day. The third morning C. started for the
boma, leaving Billy and me to look about us
as we willed. Shortly after he had departed a
delegation of Masai came in, dressed in their
best, and bearing presents of milk. Leyeye was
summoned as interpreter.

The Masai informed us that last night a lion
had leapt the thorn walls of their boma, had
pressed on through the fires, had seized a two-
year-old steer, and had dragged the beast out-
side. Then the pursuit with spears and firebrands
had become too hot for him, so that he had
dropped his victim and retired. They desired
(fl) medicine for the steer, {b) magic to keep that
Hon away, (c) that I should assist them in hunt-
ing the lion down.

I questioned them closely, and soon discovered
both that the lion must have been very bold.

S84 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

and also that he had received a pretty lively
reception. Magic to keep him away seemed
like a safe enough proposition, for the chances
were he would keep himself away.

Therefore I filled a quart measure with clear
water, passed my hand across its untroubled
surface — £md lo ! it turned a clear bright pink I

Long-drawn exclamations of " Eigh ! Eigh ! "
greeted this magic, performed by means of
permanganate crystals held between the fingers.

" With this bathe the wounds of your steer.
Then sprinkle the remainder over your cattle.
The lion will not return," said I. Then reflect-
ing that I was to be some time in the country,
and that the lion might get over his scare, I
added, " The power of this magic is three days."

They departed very much impressed. A little
later Memba Sasa and I followed them. The
manyatta was most picturesquely placed atop
the conical hill at the foot of the valley. From
its elevation we could see here and there in the
distance the variegated blotches of red and
white and black that represented the cattle
herds. Innumerable flocks of sheep and goats,
under charge of the small boys and youths,
fed nearer at hand. The low smooth-plastered
huts, with their abattis of thorn bush between,

r"

THE TOPI CAMP. 385

crowned the peak like a chaplet. Outside it sat a
number of elders sunning themselves, and several
smiling, good-natured young women, probably
the spoiled darlings of these plutocrats. One
of these damsels spake Swahih, so we managed
to exchange compliments. They told us exactly
when and how the lion had gone. Three nimble
old gentlemen accompanied us when we left.
They were armed with spears ; and they dis-
played the most extraordinary activity, skip-
ping here and there across the ravines and
through the brush, casting huge stones into
likely cover, and generally making themselves
ubiquitous. However, we did not come up with
the lion.

In our clinic that evening appeared one of
the men claiming to suffer from rheumatism. I
suspected him, and still suspect him, of malinger-
ing in advance in order to get out of the hard
work we must soon undertake, but had no
means of proving my suspicion. However, I
decided to administer asperin. We possessed
only the powdered form of the drug. I dumped
about five grains on his tongue, and was about
to proffer him the water with which to wash
it down — when he inhaled sharply ! I do not

know the precise effect of asperin in the wind-

13

886 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

pipe, but it is not pleasant. The boy thought
himself bewitched. His eyes stuck out of his
head ; he gasped painfully ; he sank to the
ground ; he made desperate efforts to bolt out
into the brush. By main strength we restrained
him, and forced him to swallow the water. Little
by Uttle he recovered. Next night I missed him
from the clinic, and sent Abba Ali in search. The
man assured Abba Ali most vehemently that the
medicine was wonderful, that every trace of
rheumatism had departed, that he never felt
better in his life, and that (important point) he
was perfectly able to carry a load on the morrow.

XLIV.
THE UNKNOWN LAND.

C RETURNED the next day from V.'s
boma, bringing more potio and some
trade goods. We sent a good present back to
Naiokotuku, and prepared for an early start
into the new coimtry.

We marched out of the lower end of our elliptical
valley towards the miniature landscape we had
seen through the opening. But before we reached
it we climbed sharp to the right around the end
of the mountains, made our way through a low
pass, and so found ourselves in a new country
entirely. The smooth, undulating green-grass
plains were now superseded by lava expanses
grown with low bushes. It was «Jmost exactly
like the sage-brush deserts of Arizona and New
Mexico — the same coarse sand and lava footing,
the same deeply eroded barrancas, the same
scattered round bushes dotted evenly over the

388 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

scene. We saw here very little game. Across
the way lay another range of low mountains
clothed darkly with dull green, like the chaparral-
covered coast ranges of California. In one place
was a gunsight pass through which we could see
other distant blue mountains. We crossed the
arid plain and toiled up through the notch pass.

The latter made very difficult footing indeed,
for the entire surface of the ground was covered
with smooth, slippery boulders and rocks of iron
and quartz. What had so smoothed them I do
not know, for they seemed to be ill-placed for
water erosion. The boys with their packs atop
found this hard going, and we ourselves slipped
and slid and bumped in spite of om* caution.

Once through the pass we found ourselves
overlooking a wide prospect of undulating thorn
scrub from which rose occasional bushy hills,
solitary buttes, and bold cliffs. It was a thick-
looking coimtry to make a way through.

Nevertheless somewhere here dwelt the Kudu,
so in we plunged. The rest of the day — and of
days to foUow — we spent in picking a way
through the thorn scrub and over loose rocks
and shifting stones. A stream bed contained an
occasional water hole. Tall aloes were ablaze
with red flowers. The country looked arid, the

THE UNKNOWN LAND. 389

air felt dry, the atmosphere was so clear that
a day's journey seemed — usually — but the mat-
ter of a few hours. Only rarely did we enjoy
a few moments of open travel. Most of the
time the thorns caught at us. In the mountain
passes were sometimes broad trails of game or
of the Masai cattle. The country was harsh
and dry and beautiful with the grays and dull
greens of arid-land brush, or with the soft at-
mospheric tints of arid-land distances. Game
was fairly common, but rather difficult to find.
There were many buffalo, a very few zebra,
leopards, hyenas, plenty of impalla, some sing-
sing, a few eland, abundant warthog, Thomp-
son's gazelle, and duiker. We never lacked for
meat when we dared shoot it, but we were
after nobler game. The sheep given us by
Naiokotuku followed along under charge of the
syces.

When we should run quite out of meat, we in-
tended to eat them. We delayed too long, how-
ever. One evening the fool boy tied them to a
thorn bush; one of them pulled back, the
thorns bit, and both broke loose and departed
into the darkness. Of com-se everybody pur-
sued, but we could not recapture them. Ten
minutes later the hyenas broke into the most

890 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

unholy laughter. We could not blame them ;
the joke was certainly on us.

In passing, the cachinnations of the laughing
hyena are rather a series of high-voiced self-
conscious titters than laughter. They sound
like the stage idea of a lot of silly and rather
embarrassed old maids who have been accused
by some rude man of " taking notice." This
call is rarely used ; indeed, I never heard it
but the once. The usual note is a sort of moan-
ing howl, impossible to describe, but easy to
recognize.

Thus we penetrated gradually deeper and
deeper into this wild country ; through low
mountains, over bush- clad plains, into thorn
jungles, down wide valleys, over hill-divided
plateaus. Late in the afternoon we would make
camp. Sometimes we had good water ; more
often not. In the evening the throb of distant
drums and snatches of intermittent wailing song
rose and fell with the little night breezes.

XLV.
THE ROAN.

OUR last camp, before turning back, we
pitched about two o'clock one afternoon.
Up to this time we had marched steadily
down wide valleys, around the end of mountain
ranges, moving from one room to the other of
this hill-divided plateau. At last we ended on
a slope that descended gently to water. It was
grown sparingly with thorn trees, among which
we raised our tents. Over against us, and across
several low swells of grass and scrub-grown hills,
was a range of mountains. Here, Mavrouki
claimed, dwelt roan antelope.

We settled down quite happily. The country
round about was full of game ; the weather was
cool, the wide sweeps of country, the upward
fling of moxmtains and buttes were much like
some parts of our great West. Almost every
evening the thunderstorms made gorgeous piled

392 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

effects in the distance. At night the lions
and hyenas roared or howled, and some of
the tiny fever owls impudently answered them
back.

Various adventures came our way, some of
which have been elsewhere narrated. Here we
killed the very big buffalo that nearly got Billy.*
In addition, we collected two more specimens of
the Neuman's hartebeeste, and two Chanler's
reed buck.

But Mavrouki's glowing predictions as to roan
were hardly borne out by facts. According
to him the moimtains simply swarmed with
them — ^he had seen thirty-five in one day, etc.
Of course we had discounted this, but some old
tracks had to a certain extent borne out his
statement.

Lunch time one day, however, found us on
top of the highest ridge. Here we hunted up a
bit of shade, and spent two hours out of the
noon sun. While we lay there the sky slowly
overcast, so that when we aroused ourselves to
go on, the dazzling light had softened. As time
was getting short, we decided to separate. Mem-
ba Sasa and Mavrouki were to go id one direc-
tion, while C, Kongoni and I took the other.

♦ •• The Land of Footprints."

The Eland.

Cape Buffalo.

THE ROAN. 393

Before we started I remarked that I was offer-
ing two rupees for the capture of a roan.

We had not gone ten minutes when Kongoni
turned his head cautiously and grinned back at us.

" My rupees," said he.

A fine buck roan stood motionless beneath a
tree in the valley below us. He was on the
other side of the stream jungle, and nearly a mile
away. While we watched him, he lay down.

Our task now was to gain the shelter of the
stream jimgle below without being seen, to slip
along it until opposite the roan, and then to
penetrate the jungle near enough to get a shot.
The first part of this contract seemed to us
the most difficult, for we were forced to descend
the face of the hill, like flies crawling down a
blackboard, plain for him to see.

We slid cautiously from bush to bush ; we
moved by imperceptible inches across the numer-
ous open spaces. About half-way down we were
arrested by a violent snort ahead. Fifteen or
twenty zebras nooning in the brush where no
zebras were supposed to be, clattered down the
hill like an avalanche. We froze where we were.
The beasts ran fifty yards, then wheeled, and
started back up the hill, trying to make us out.

For twenty minutes all parties to the transac-

13a

394 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

tion remained stock still, the zebras staring, we
hoping fervently they would decide to go down
the valley and not up it, the roan dozing imder
his distant tree.

By luck our hopes were fulfilled. The zebra
turned downstream, walking sedately away in
single file. When we were certain they had all
quite gone, we resumed our painful descent.

At length we dropped below the screen of
trees, and could stand upright and straighten
the kinks out of our backs. But now a new com-
plication arose. The wind, which had been the
very basis of our calculations, conunenced to
chop and veer. Here it blew from one quarter,
up there on the side hill from another, and
through the bushes in quite another direction
still. Then without warning they would aU
shift about. We watched the tops of the grasses
through our binoculars, hoping to read some
logic into the condition. It was now four
o'clock — our stalk had thus far consumed two
hours — and the roan must soon begin to feed.
If we were going to do anything, we must do
it soon.

Therefore we crept through a very spiky, noisy
jungle to its other edge, sneetked along the edge
until we could make out the tree, and raised

THE ROAN. 395

ourselves for a look. Through the glass I could
just make out the roan's face stripe. He was
still there !

Quite encouraged, I instantly dropped down
and crawled to within range. When again I
raised my head the roan had disappeared. One
of these aggravating little side puffs of breeze
had destroyed our two hours' work.

The outlook was not particularly encouraging.
We had no means of telling how far the animal
would go, nor into what sort of country ; and
the hour was well advanced toward sunset. How-
ever, we took up the track, and proceeded to fol-
low it as weU as we could. That was not easy,
for the groimd was hard and stony. Suddenly
C. threw himself flat. Of course we followed his
example. To us he whispered that he thought
he had caught a glimpse of the animed through
an opening and across the stream bed. We
stalked carefully, £ind found ourselves in the
middle of a small herd of topis, one of which,
half concealed in the brush, had deceived C.
This consumed valuable time. When again we
had picked up the spoor, it was agreed that I
was to still-hunt ahead as rapidly as I could,
while C. and Kongoni would puzzle out the
tracks as far as possible before dark.

396 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Therefore I climbed the little rocky ridge on
our left) and walked along near its crest, keeping
a sharp lookout over the vaUey below — much
as one would hunt August bucks in California.
After two or three hundred yards I chanced on
a short strip of soft earth in which the fresh
tracks of the roan going uphill were clearly im-
printed. I could not without making too much
noise inform the others that I had cut in ahead
of them ; so I followed the tracks as cautiously
and quietly as I could. On the very top of the
hill the roan leapt from cover fifty yards away,
and with a clatter of rocks dashed off down the
ridge. The grass was very high, and I could
see only his head and horns, but I dropped the
front sight six inches and let drive at a guess.
The guess happened to be a good one, for he
turned a somersault seventy-two yards away.

C. and Kongoni came up. The sim had just
set. In fifteen minutes it would be pitch dark.
We dispatched Kongoni for help and lanterns,
and turned to on the job of building a signal
fire and skinning the trophy.

The reason for our strangely chopping wind
now became apparent. From our elevation we
could see piled thunder-clouds looming up from
the west. They were spreading upward and

THE ROAN. 397

outward in the swift, rushing manner of tropic
storms ; and I saw I must hustle if I was to
get my fire going at all. The first little blaze was
easy, and after that I had to pile on quantities
of any wood I could lay my hands to. The
deluge blotted out every vestige of daylight and
nearly drowned out my fire. I had started to
help C. with the roan, but soon found that I had
my own job cut out for me, and so went back to
nursing my blaze. The water descended in
sheets. We were imjnediately soaked through,
and very cold. The surface of the ground was
steep and covered with loose round rocks, and
in my continuous trips for firewood I stumbled
and slipped and ran into thorns miserably.*

After a long interval of this the lanterns came
bobbing through the darkness, and a few mo-
ments later the dim light revealed the shining
rain-soaked faces of our men.

We wasted no time in the distribution of
bm-dens. C. with one of the lanterns brought up
the rear, while I with the other went on ahead.

Now as Kongoni had but this minute com-
pleted the round trip to camp, we concluded that
he would be the best one to give us a lead. This

* Six months after I had reached home, one of these thorns worked
its way out of the calf of my leg.

398 AFRICAN CAMP FERES.

was a mistake. He took us out of the hills well
enough, and a good job that was, for we could
not see the length of our arms into the thick, rainy
blackness, and we had to go entirely by the
slants of the country. But once in the more
open, sloping coimtry, with its innumerable
bushy or wooded ravines, he began to stray.
I felt this from the first ; but Kongoni insisted
strongly he was right, and in the rain and dark-
ness we had no way of proving him wrong.
In fact I had no reason for thinking him wrong ;
I only felt it. This sense of direction is apparently
a fifth wheel or extra adjustment some people
happen to possess. It has nothing to do with
acquired knowledge, as is very well proved by
the fact that in my 'own case it acts only €is long
as I do not think about it. As soon as I begin
consciously to consider the matter I am likely
to go wrong. Thus many, many times I have
back-tracked in the dark over ground I had
traversed but once before, and have caught
myself timiing out for bushes or trees I could
not see, but which my subconscious memory
recalled. This would happen only when I
would think of something besides the way
home. As soon as I took charge, I groped as
badly as the next man. It is a curious and

THE ROAN. 899

sometimes valuable extra, but by no means to
be depended upon.

Now, however, as I was following Kongoni,
this faculty had full play, and it assured me
vehemently that we were wrong. I called C.
up from the rear for consultation. Kongoni was
very positive he was right ; but as we had now
been walking over an hour, and camp should
not have been more than three miles from where
we had killed the roan, we were inclined towards
my instinct. So we took the compass direction,
in order to assure consistency at least, and
struck off at full right angles to the left.

So we tramped for a long time. Every few
moments Kongoni would want another look at
that compass. It happened that we were now
going due north, and his notion was that the
needle pointed the way to camp. We profoimdly
hoped that his faith in white man's magic would
not be shattered. At the end of an hour the
rain let up, and it cletired sufficiently to dis-
close some of the mountain outlines. They con-
vinced us that we were in the main right ; though
just where, to the north, camp now lay was be-
yond our power to determine. Kongoni's detour
had been rather indeterminate in direction and
distance.

400 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

The country now became very rough, in a
smaU way. The feeble light of oiu* leading
lantern revealed only ghosts and phantoms
and looming, warning suggestions of things which
the shadows confused and shifted. Heavily laden
men would have found it difficult travelling by
prosaic daylight ; but now, with the added im-
possibility of picking a route ahead, we foimd
ourselves in all sorts of trouble. Many times we
had to back out and try again. The ghostly
flickering tree shapes against the fathomless
black oiBFered us apparently endless aisles that
nevertheless closed before us like the doors of a
trap when we attempted to enter them.

We kept doggedly to the same general north-
erly direction. When you are lost, nothing is
more foolish than to make up your mind hastily
and without due reflection ; and nothing is more
fooUsh than to change your mind once you have
made it up. That way vacillation, confusion, and
disaster lie. Should you decide, after due con-
sideration of all the elements of the problem,
that you should go east, then east you go, and
nothing must turn you. You may get to the
Atlantic Ocean if nothing else. And if you begin
to modify yoiu* original plan, then you begin
to circle. Believe me ; I know.

Our southernmost camp. From this point we turned back.

i .,.....;;

THE ROAN. 401

Kongoni was plainly sceptical, and said so
until I shut him up with some rather peremptory
sarcasm. The bearers, who had to stumble in
the dark under heavy biu-dens, were good-
natiu*ed and joking. This we appreciated. One
can never tell whether or not he is popular with
a native until he and the native are caught in
a dangerous or disagreeable fix.

We walked two horn's as in a treadmill. Then
that invaluable though erratic sixth sense of mine
awoke. I stopped short.

" I beheve we've come far enough," I shouted
back to C, and fired my rifle.

We received an almost immediate answer from
a short distance to the left. Not over two hun-
dred yards in that direction we met our camp
men bearing torches, and so were escorted in
triumph after a sixteen-hour day.

XLVI.
THE GREATER KUDU.

NEXT morning, in a joking manner, I tried
to impress Kongoni with a sense of delin-
quency in not knowing better his directions,
especially as he had twice traversed the route.
He declined to be impressed.

"It is not the business of man to walk at
night," he replied with dignity.

And when you stop to think of it, it certainly
is not — in Africa.

At this camp we lingered several days. The
great prize of our journeying was still lacking, and,
to tell the truth, we had about given up hope, if
not our efforts. Almost we had begun to believe
our friends in Nairobi who had scoffed at the
uselessness of our quest. Always we conscien-
tiously looked over good kudu country, hundreds
of miles of it, and always with the same lack of
result, or even of encouragement. Other game

THE GREATER KUDU. 403

we saw in plenty, of a dozen different varieties,
large and small ; but our five weeks' search
had thus far yielded us only the sight of the
same old, old sign, made many months before.
K you had stood with us atop one of the
mountains, and with us had looked abroad on
the countless leagues of rolling brush-clothed
land, imdulating away in all directions over a far
horizon, you must with us have estimated as
very slight the chances of happening on the exact
pin point where the kudu at that moment hap-
pened to be feeding. For the beast is shy, it
inhabits the densest, closest moimtain cover, it
possesses the keen eyesight and sense of smell
of the bush-dwelling deer and antelope, and
more ihan the average sense of hearing. There
are very few of him. But the chief discourage-
ment is that arising from his roaming tendencies.
Other rare animals are apt to " use " about one
locality, so that once the hunter finds tracks, new
or old, his game is one of patient, skilful search.
The greater kudu, however, seems in this country
at least to be a wanderer. He is here to-day
and gone to-morrow. Systematic search seems
as foolish as in the case of the proverbial needle
in the haystack. The only method is to sift con-
stantly, and trust to luck. One cannot catch

404 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

fish with the fly in the book, but one has at
least a chance if one keeps it on the water.

Mavrouki was the only one among us who had
the living faith that comes from having seen the
animal in the flesh. That is a curious bit of
hunter psychology. When a man is out after
a species new to him, it is only by the utmost
stretch of the imagination that he is able to
realize that such an animal can exist at all.
He cannot prefigure it, somehow. He generally
exaggerates to himself the difficulty of making it
out, of approaching it, of getting his shot ; until
at last, if he happens to have hunted some time
in vain, the beast becomes almost mythical and
imbelievable. Once he has seen the animal,
whether he gets a shot or not, all this vanishes.
The strain on faith relaxes. He knows what to
look for, and what to expect ; and even if he
sees no other specimen for a month, he never-
theless goes about the business with a certain
confidence.

One afternoon we had been hunting carefully
certain low moimtains, and were headed for camp,
walking rather carelessly along the bed of a nar-
row, open valley below the bush-covered side hills.
The sun had disappeared behind the ranges,
and the dusk of evening was just beginning

THE GREATER KUDU. 405

to rise like a mist from the deeps of the canons.
We had ceased hmiting — it was time to hmry
home — and happened not to be talking only
because we were tired. By sheerest idle luck I
chanced to look up to the densely covered face of
the mountain. Across a single tiny opening in
the tall brush five or six hundred yards away, I
caught a movement. Still idly I lifted my glasses
for a look at what I thought would prove the
usual impalla or sing-sing, and was just in time to
catch the spirals of a magnificent set of horns.
It was the greater kudu at last !

I gave a little cluck of caution ; and instantly,
without question, after the African fashion, the
three men ahead of me sank to the ground. C.
looked at me inquiringly. I motioned with my
eyes. He raised his glasses for one look.

" That's the fellow," he said quietly.

The kudu, as though he had merely stepped
into the opening to give us a sight of him, melted
into the brush.

It was magnificent and exciting to have seen
this wonderful beast after so long a quest, but
by the same token it was not very encouraging
for all that. If we had had all the dayhght we
needed, and unlimited time, it would have been
quite a feat to stalk the wary beast in that

406 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

thick, noisy cover. Now it was almost dark,
and would be quite dark within the half-hour.
The kudu had moved out of sight. Whether he
had gone on some distance, or whether he still
lingered near the edge of the tiny opening was
another matter to be determined, and to be
determined quickly.

Leaving Kongoni and Mavrouki, C. and I
wriggled pantingly up the hill, as fast and at the
same time as cautiously as we could. At the
edge of the opening we came to a halt, belly down,
and began eagerly to scrutinize the brush across
the way. If the kudu still lingered we had to
find it out before we ventured out of cover to
take up his trail. Inch by inch we scrutinized
every possible concealment. Finally C. breathed
sharp with satisfaction. He had caught sight
of the tip of one horn. With some difficulty
he indicated to me where. After staring long
enough, we could dimly make out the kudu
himself browsing, from the tender branch-ends.

All we could do was to lie low. If the kudu
fed on out of sight into the cover, we could not
possibly get a shot ; if he should happen again
to cross the opening, we would get a good shot.
No one but a hunter can imderstand the pant-
ing, dry-mouthed excitement of those minutes;

THE GREATER KUDU. 407

five weeks ' hard work hung in the balance. The
kudu did neither of these things ; he ceased
browsing, took three steps forward, and stood.

The game seemed blocked. The kudu had evi-
dently settled down for a snooze ; it was impos-
sible, in the situation, to shorten the distance with-
out being discovered ; the daylight was almost
gone ; we could make out no trace of him ex-
cept through our glasses. Look as hard as we
could, we could see nothing with the naked eye.
Unless something happened within the next
two minutes, we would bring nothing into camp
but the memory of a magnificent beast. And
next day he would probably be inextricably lost
in the wilderness of mountains.*

It was a time for desperate measures, and, to
C.*s evident doubtful anxiety, I took them.
Through the glasses the mane of the kudu showed
as a dim gray streak. Carefully I picked out
two twigs on a bush fifteen feet from me, and a
tuft of grass ten yards on, all of which were in
Une with where the shoulder of the kudu ought
to be. Then I lowered my glasses. The gray
streak of the kudu's mane had disappeared in the
blending twilight, but I could still see the tips

* Trailing for any distance was impossible on account of the stony
soil.

408 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

of the twigs and the tuft of grass. Very care-
fully I aligned the sights with these ; and, with a
silent prayer to the Red Gods, loosed the bullet
into the darkness.

At the crack of the rifle the kudu leapt into
plain sight.

" Hit ! " rasped C. in great excitement.

I did not wait to verify this, but fired four
times more as fast as I could work the bolt.
Three of the bullets told. At the last shot he
criunpled and came rolling down the slope. We
both raised a wild whoop of triumph, which was
answered at once by the expectant gunbearers
below.

The finest trophy in Africa was ours I

xLvn.

THE MAGIC PORTALS CLOSE.

IT seemed hopeless to try for a picture. Never-
theless I opened wide my lens, steadied
the camera, and gave it a half-second. The re-
sult was fairly good. So much for a high grade
lens. We sent Kongoni into camp for help,
and ourselves proceeded to build up the usual
fire for signal and for protection against wild
beasts. Then we sat down to enjoy the even-
ing, while Mavrouki skinned the kudu.

We looked abroad over a wide stretch of
country. Successive low ridges crossed our front,
each of a different shade of slate gray from its
neighbours, and a gray half-luminous mist filled
the valley between them. The edge of the world
was thrown sharp against burnished copper.
After a time the moon rose.

Memba Sasa arrived before the lanterns, out
of breath, his face streaming with perspiration.

410 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

Poor Memba Sasa I this was almost the only
day he had not followed close at my heels, and
on this day we had captured the Great Prize.
No thought of that seemed to affect the hearti-
ness of his joy. He rushed up to shake both my
hands ; he examined the kudu with an attention
that was held only by great restraint ; he let
go that restrain to shake me again enthusiastic-
ally by the hands. After him, up the hill,
bobbed slowly the lanterns. The smiling bearers
shouldered the trophy and the meat, and we
stumbled home through the half shadows and
the opalescences of the moonlight.

Our task in this part of the country was now
finished. We set out on the return journey.
The weather changed. A beautiful, bright-copper
simset was followed by a drizzle. By morning
this had turned into a heavy rain. We left
the topi camp, to which we had by now returned,
cold and miserable. C. and I had contributed
our waterproofs to protect the precious trophies,
and we were speedily wet through. The grass was
long. This was no warm and grateful tropical
rain, but a driving, chilling storm straight out
from the high mountains.

We marched up the long plain, we turned to
the left around the base of the ranges, we mounted

THE MAGIC PORTALS CLOSE. 411

the narrow grass valley, we entered the forest
— the dark, dripping, and unfriendly forest.
Over the edge we dropped and clambered down
through the hanging vines eind the sombre trees.
By-and-by, we emerged on the open plains be-
low, the plains on the hither side of the Naros-
sara, the Africa we had known so long. The
rain ceased. It was almost as though a magic
portal had clicked after us. Behind it lay the
wonderful secret upper country of the unknown.

XLVIII.
THE LAST TREK.

SOME weeks later we camped high on the
slopes of Suswa, the great mountain of the
Rift Valley, only one day's march from the rail-
road. After the capture of the kudu Africa still
held for us various adventures — a buffalo, a go of
fever, and the like — ^but the culmination had been
reached. We had lingered until the latest mo-
ment, reluctant to go. Now in the gray dawn
we were filing down the slopes of the mountains
for the last trek. A low, flowing mist marked
the distant Kedong ; the flames of an African
simrise were revelling in the eastern skies. All
our old friends seemed to be bidding us good-
bye. Aroimd the shoulder of the mountains a
lion roared, rumble upon rumble. Two hyenas
leapt from the grass, ran fifty yards, and tmned
to look at us.

" Good-bye, simba ! good-bye, fice ! " we cried
to them sadly.

THE LAST TREK. 413

A little farther we saw zebra, and the harte-
beeste, and the gazelles. One by one appeared
and disappeared again the beasts with which we
had grown so famiHar during our long months
in the jungle. So remarkable was the number
of species that we both began to comment upon
the fact, to greet the animals, to bid them fare-
well, as though they were reporting in order from
the jimgle to bid us God-speed. Half in earnest
we waved our hands to them and shouted our
greetings to them in the native — ^punda milia,
kongoni, pa-a, fice, m'pofu, twiga, simba, n'grooui,
and the rest. Before our eyes the misty ranges
hardened and stiffened imder the fierce sun.
Our men marched steadily, cheerfully, beating
their loads in rhythm with their safari sticks,
crooning under their breaths, and occasionally
breaking into full- voiced chant. They were glad
to be back from the long safari, back from across
the Thirst, from the high, cold country, from the
dangers and discomforts of the unknown. We
rode a Httle wistfully, for these great plains and
mysterious jungles, these populous, dangerous,
many -voiced nights, these flaming, splendid
dawnings and day-falls, these fierce, shimmering
noons we were to know no more.

Two days we had in Nairobi before going to

414 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES.

the coast. There we paid off and dismissed our
men, giving them presents according to the
length and faithfuhiess of their service. They
took them and departed, eagerly, as was natural,
to the families and the pleasures from which
they had been so long separated. Mohanmied said
good-bye, and went, and was sorry ; Kongoni
departed, after many and sincere protestations ;
quiet Httle Mavrouki came back three times to
shake hands again, and disappeared reluctantly
— but disappeared ; Leyeye went ; Abba Ali fol-
lowed the service of his master, C. ; " Timothy "
received his present — in which he was disap-
pointed— and departed with salaams. Only
Memba Sasa remained. I paid him for his long
service, and I gave him many and rich presents,
and bade farewell to him with genuine regret
and affection.

Memba Sasa had wives and a farm near town,
neither of which possessions he had seen for a
very long while. Nevertheless he made no move
to see them. When our final interview had ter-
minated with the usual " Bags " (It is finished),
he shook hands once more and withdrew, but
only to take his position across the street. There
he squatted on his heels, fixed his eyes upon me,
and remeiined. I went down town on business.

THE LAST TREK. 415

Happening to glance through the office window
I caught sight of Memba Sasa again across the
street, squatted on his heels, his gaze fixed un-
waveringly on my face. So it was for two days.
When I tried to approach him, he glided away,
so that I got no further speech with him ; but
always, quietly and unobtrusively, he returned
to where he could see me plainly. He considered
that our interview had terminated our official re-
lations, but he wanted to see the last of the
bwana with whom he had journeyed so far.

One makes many acquaintances as one knocks
about the world ; and once in a great many
moons one finds a friend — a man the mere fact
of whose existence one is glad to realize, whether
one ever sees him again or not. These are not
many, and they are of various degree. Among
them I am glad to number this fierce savage.
He was efficient, self-respecting, brave, staunch,
and loyal with a great loyalty. I do not think
I can better end this book than by this feeble
tribute to a man whose opportunities were not
many, but whose soul was great.

THE END.

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