After big game : the story of an African holiday

AFTER
IG GAME

R.S.&M.E.MEIKLE

MCiJB LiBHAKY

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AFTER BIG GAME

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Portrait of the Author.

AFTER BIG GAME

THE STORY OF AN AFRICAN HOLIDAY

BY

R. S. MEIKLE, F.Z.S., F.Z.S.Scot.

AND

Mrs M. E. MEIKLE

LONDON

T. WERNER LAURIE LTD.

8 ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.G.2

CONTENTS

PAGE

Introduction . . . . .1

PART I
THE UGANDA RAILWAY

CHAPTER

I. Along the Uganda Railway . . 5

I. MOMBASA TO NAIROBI — II. NAIROBI — III.
NAIROBI TO VICTORIA NYANZA — IV. THE SOURCE
OF THE NILE

II. Mombasa . . . . .45

III. Zanzibar . . . . .65

IV. German East Africa . . . .77

I. DAR-ES -SALAAM — U. TANGA

PART II
HUNTING EXPERIENCES

V. On Safari . . . . .93

I. introductory — II. THE GUASO NYIRO
— in. vol AND TSAVO — IV. THE LAIKIPIA
PLAINS

V

CONTENTS

PART III

SPECIAL SUBJECTS

CHAPTER PAGE

VI. Some Races and Customs . . . 257

VII. Various Pests, Insect and Otherwise . 281

VIII. Some Prospects and Opinions . . 296

PART IV
By F. G. AFLALO

IX. Fishing in the Protectorate . . . 313

I. sea-fish at MOMBASA — U. TROUT IN THE

aberdares — ni. barbel at the nile falls
— IV. the giant perch and tiger-fish OF

LAKE ALBERT

VI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Portrait of the Autho

r

.

.

Frontispiece

TO FACE PAGE

On the Uganda Railway

16

Government House, Nairobi .

16

Ripon Falls, Source of the Nile

40

Eland in Government Farm, near Nairobi .

40

Sir H. C. and Lady Belfield, Mombasa

48

Government House, Mombasa

48

Harbour, Mombasa ....

5Q

On Government House Sea Path, Mombasa

56

Old Arab Well, Mombasa

64

Court House, Mombasa

64

Street Scene, Zanzibar

72

Narrow Streets of Zanzibar .

72

Dar-es-Salaam ....

80

Native Street in Dar-es-Salaam

80

View from Tanga Railway

84

Up country from Tanga

84

Experimental Gardens, up country from Tanga

88

Banana Trees, up country from Tanga

88

On the March ....

96

The Safari in Camp

9Q

Fording a Stream

112

Common Zebra

112

Thika Falls .

120

Oryx Beisa .

120

Klipspringer .

128

Water-buck .

128

Rhinoceros

136

Greater Kudu

136

vu

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Impala

Gerenuk, or Waller's Gazelle

The Author and Three Friends

A Good Specimen

Impala and Gerenuk, shot with right and left

Grevy Zebra .

Leopard

Where I got ray big Buffalo

Grant's Gazelle

Near Arehei''s Post .

One Night's Kill

Lionesses and Boma .

In Camp

Passing through a Gorge

Zebra near Rumuruti

Our Wagons near Rumuruti

Weaver Birds' Nests, Laikipia Plains

Somalis and Camels, Laikipia Plains

Boma and Zebra for Bait

A Pair of Lionesses .

Dead Hyaena .

Baboon

Foal of common Zebra

Wild Ostrich Nest .

Native Huts at Jinja .

Native Children at Rumuruti

Suk Chiefs, with elaborate Head-dres

Natives at Nakuru Show

A Kavirondo Mother.

Kikuyu Natives

Swahili Village, near Nairobi

Sisal Plantation, Nyali

Koli-koli (55 lb.), Mombasa ,

Giant Perch of Albert Nyanza

TO FACE PAGE

148

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N.R.B

AFTER BIG GAME

INTRODUCTION

I HAVE always been fond of shooting, and during many
years' residence in the Far East have had considerable
experience with the Big Game there. But up to the time
of the visit to Africa of which this book is the record, I had
never been fortunate enough to be in a position to shoot a
lion, although most of the other wild beasts commonly met
with had come within range of my rifle. Naturally, I have
always felt a desire to complete my experiences by adding
to my collection of trophies that of the King of Beasts.

Various circumstances, however, prevented my domg so
until, in the autumn of 1912, my friend Mr (now Sir Henry)
Conway Belfield, formerly Resident of the Federated Malay
States, was appointed Governor of British East Africa. I
met him in London prior to his taking up his appointment ;
and he, knowing my desire, suggested that this was my
opportunity, and very kindly offered to do all that lay in
his power to ensure the success of the trip. At the same time
Lady Belfield proposed that my wife should accompany me,
offering her the hospitality of Government House during
the time I should be away shooting. This was a delightful
opportunity, and we gladly accepted the kind invitation
for the following autumn.

In this way, while 1 was gathering new experiences in
the wilds, my wife was able to share in the social amenities
of colonial life, and to gain a first-hand acquaintance with
various aspects of life in the East which do not as a rule
come under the notice of the English woman who travels
abroad. From her ()^\ll observation, and from the most com-
petent authorities on the spot, she was able to obtain a know-
ledge of native life, of the domestic, industrial and political

AFTER BIG GAME

questions involved in our dealings with the native races, of
the possibilities of the country and the aims of those con-
cerned in its development, more complete and accurate than
would have been possible for a casual visitor.

Finally, however, she also succumbed to the fascination
of the wild, and we went on safari together over the
famous Laikipia plains, havmg for our companion Miss
Monica Belfield, Sir Henry and Lady Belfield's youngest
daughter. The result was a most enjoyable and interesting
holiday, dm'ing which we encountered many varieties of wild
game and wild people, obtained a number of capital trophies
and enjoyed many novel and fascinating experiences.

This account of om' holiday is an afterthought. When we
set out we had no intention of publishing our adventures,
but we both kept rough diaries, in which were jotted do^vn
the happenings of each day. The perusal of these from time
to time recalled to the memory so many additional points
not noted down at the time that we felt it would be pleasant
to have something like a complete record of a delightful
holiday, and that the only chance of procuring one was to
write an account of it while the impression was still fresh in
our minds.

The story of our doings falls naturally into two sections.
The first of these is concerned chiefly with the life of the
colony, and the second with our life while on safari and with
the shooting of wild game. In addition, I have thought fit
to add two or three chapters dealing with special subjects of
interest, such as the native races and their habits and
customs ; insect life in East Africa and its relation to
disease, including malaria, sleepmg sickness and cattle
fevers ; and the future possibilities of the colony as regards
agriculture generally, and in particular the raising of certain
crops and the rearing of cattle.

As to the share of each of us in the authorship, it may
be taken that the responsibility for the descriptive portions
of the book rests with M. E. M., who is also responsible in the
main for the story of the trip to the Laikipia plains. For
my own part I have ^vritten up my hunting diary, making
such comments and additions as might naturally occur to one

INTRODUCTION

who has shot Big Game for many years and in various parts
of the world, and who has always been keenly interested in
animal life. I can only hope that these notes and notions
may prove of interest to those with similar tastes, and to
those who have enjoyed or anticipate enjoying a similar
experience.

For the conclusions and opinions expressed in the latter
part of the book I make no apology. In so far as I was able,
I have taken stock of the resources and possibilities of the
country and of the attempts which are being made to develop
them, from the point of view of one who has during a great
part of his active life been intimately associated with similar
problems of development in other parts of the East.

R. S. M.

PART L— THE UGANDA RAILWAY

CHAPTER I

Along the Uganda Railway

i. mombasa to nairobi

The Uganda Railway must surely be the most wonderful
railway in the world. A journey by it is certainly the most
interesting experience in British East Africa.

It connects the ocean with the vast inland sea known as
the Victoria Nyanza. It has one considerable town at its
commencement, Mombasa, and one, Nairobi, three hundred
and thirty miles away. For the rest, it has a series of corru-
gated iron shanties, each surrounded by huts ; these are
its stations, and will be the great towns of the future.

It begins in the tropics and ends in the tropics, and
between its two extremes passes through every variety of
climate — moist, dry, hot, temperate and frigid, and through
every kind of scenery.

The route lies along steamy coast lands, across arid
deserts, over vast fertile plains and through primeval forests.
It winds its way up and down inconceivable precipices,
bridges deep ravines and crosses wide stretches of swamp.
It is a wonderful feat of engineering. At first it was more
wonderful still. The builders could not get from home the
materials necessary for the line as projected, and in lieu of
conquering the difficulties had to obviate them by all sorts
of devices, making up by ingenuity what they lacked in
plant and material.

From no other railway windows in the world can one look
out on such a panorama or such a collection of animals. In
variety there is nothing to equal them outside a zoo, while in
number they arc uncountable. And here they are quietly

5

AFTER BIG GAME

grazing in their natural surroundings, and accepting the
railway and yourself with perfect equanimity. Antelopes,
gazelles and zebras seem absolutely indifferent to the noise
and motion of the train, or at the most exhibit only a mild
curiosity. If you are fortunate you may see a hyaena or a
wild pig lumbering into the bush, a jackal stealing through
the grass, or an ostrich see-sawing ridiculously out of the
way, balancing itself with outspread wings.

So with the human denizens of East Africa. You pass
from the neatly clad Swahili to the clay-plastered and
wire-bedizened Kikuyu and the naked Kavirondo. There
is something of interest everywhere. The very names of
the stations are of interest. Some are beautifully euphoni-
ous, like Elmenteita or Nakuru, and others have their local
histories of adventures with wild beasts and men. One,
Simba, is called after the King of Beasts himself, simba being
the native word for lion ; and many stories, some amusing,
others sadly tragical, are told about him, there and at other
places. One has a lurking sense of the possibility, even now,
of meeting him ; and this, with the contrast between civilisa-
tion and savagery and the feeling that one is penetrating
into the dim, mysterious heart of Africa, gives a feeling of
piquancy and interest which makes a journey on the Uganda
Railway absolutely unique.

Many people assume that the centre of Africa is a desert.
Others, going to the opposite extreme, imagine it a paradise
of tropical vegetation, just one bewildering luxuriance of
fern and palm, of tropical forest with climbing plants and
gorgeous flowers, of brightly coloured birds and brilliant
butterflies. Paradox as it may seem, both are true ; and
there are also landscapes so like those of home that, could
one but for a moment forget the strangeness of the people
and the animals, one might fancy oneself in Scotland. The
difference is merely a matter of rainfall and elevation. On
the coast, there is much rain during one part of the year and
heavy dews for the rest. Hence the vegetation has all the
lush, free growth that one associates with the tropics.
Beyond, the land rises to a plateau, then to a second, and
finally drops suddenly to the bottom of the Great Rift Valley,

6

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

which is the geological feature of East Africa, and contains
the great chain of lakes — Naivasha, Baringo and Rudolf.
The western boundary of this Rift Valley is the Mau
Escarpment.

The first plateau rises to a height of 4000 to 5000 feet.
It is fertile in places. The soil is volcanic, and where the
old primary rocks come to the surface they crumble imder the
influence of the weather into a fine soil which is exceedingly
fertile, but unfortunately of no great depth. In other parts
the rocks are porous and the rain sinks through them,
possibly forming those underground rivers which some people,
and particularly writers of romance, claim as a feature of
Africa. But whether there are underground rivers or no,
the soil in these districts is sandy and dry and almost useless
for vegetable gro-wth. The greater part of the first plateau
is of this character, and the chief feature of its vegetation is
a peculiarly uninviting scrub. What plants there are are of
the xerophytic type, having small, shiny or spiky leaves with
thick skins specially adapted to retain all the water they can
get. The trees also, such as they are, have corky bark which
serves the same purpose. They burst into flower just before
the rainy season ; leaf and fruit are produced during the
rains, or shortly after ; and when the drought returns the seed
is scattered, the leaves fall and the tree goes into its dormant
state.

Few of these trees are of any size. Here and there one
finds a palm, but even that looks withered and sun-stricken.
At Simba, I saw frangipani growing in the garden, possibly
a imique example, for the place is 3300 feet above sea-level.
Near by is a solitary baobab. This, I imagine, should also
be a record. At any rate I saw no others so high up.

On the higher plateau rain is abundant. Here there are
well-wooded tracts, great stretches of pasture-land, flowers
and trees just as in the temperate zone. This is particularly
noticeable on the slopes of the mountains. Higher up are
the bamboo thickets, the chosen retreats of the elephants ;
and above these come the alpine plants and then the eternal
snows.

All this, however, is by way of introduction. At the

AFTER BIG GAME

station the train is waiting to take us the 337 miles from
Mombasa to Nairobi, the other town on this Uganda Raihvay
— which does not go to Uganda at all.

The first impression of Mombasa station is one of over-
powering heat and glare and noise. Native porters rush
hither and thither with a magnificent pretence of accom-
plishing wonders. Native passengers, each with his bundle
of bedding, food and other impedimenta, chatter and gesticu-
late excitedly from behind the bars of the pen in which they
are confined. Only the European officials seem at ease,
standing almost listlessly round, seeming bored beyond
expression and yet controlling everything with a sort of
careless competence. The station-master is armed with a
formidable sjambok, which, however, I did not see him use.
He was most courteous, and did all in his power to make us
comfortable during our wait. All the time the intolerable
heat beat down from the roof, and up from the floor, and
back again in palpitating waves from the walls. We were
only too glad when the quaint little train came puffing in.
The carriages are comfortable enough, though upholstery is
limited and decorations are distinctly severe. We were to
learn the necessity for this simplicity shortly. For no sooner
had we cleared the coast strip than we began to make the
acquaintance of the red dust, which must be, I think, the
most pervasive and elusive dust in the world. It penetrated
everywhere and permeated everything, no matter how
securely packed. Fortunately the engines burn wood, so
that there was no coal dust to diversify the colour effect.
A sort of shutter that lets doAvn from the top of the windows
to keep out the glare of the sun serves also to keep out the
sparks and ashes from the engine. There were no first-class
passengers save ourselves, but the tliird class was crowded.
Natives are not permitted to travel first or second. In
the third, they pay a penny for six miles. The first-class
fare is threepence a mile. The accommodation in the
thirds consists mainly of transverse planks fixed across the
carriages.

We steam slowly out of the station back to Kilindini, and
then across the Makupa bridge to the mainland, getting a

8

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

delightful glimpse of Kilindini harbour on the way. The first
few miles are luxuriantly wooded with great mangroves,
mangoes, baobabs, shrubs of all kinds and particularly
hibiscus, and in the ponds and watercourses there are beautiful
lilies. Orchids flourish among the trees, and everywhere
is the inevitable palm. Indeed from here to Mazeras the
Dom palm is the principal feature of the landscape.

When one thinks of the ubiquity of this tree and of the
multifarious uses to which native ingenuity has put it, one
is inclined to inquire whether life in the tropics would be
possible without it. As Whittier writes :

"To him the palm is a gift Divine
Wherein all uses of man combine
House and raiment and food and wine.

Of threads of palm was the carpet spun

Whereon he kneels when day is done

And the foreheads of Islam are bowed like one.

And in the hour of his great release
His need of the palm shall only cease
With the shroud wherein he lieth at peace."

We rise steadily, and the dense woods grow thinner and
thinner until all the luxuriant beauty of the vegetation dis-
appears, the earth grows barer and redder, the dust thicker,
the grass and undergrowth more sparse. The trees are only
in scattered patches now, and those that we see are wizened,
stunted specimens, with dried-up branches and scanty
leaves.

Two characteristic features are the scrub, chiefly mimosa
with its obtrusive thorns, and plants of the cactus type.
Chief among these are the euphorbias, looking like great
candelabras, the sanseveira, with its sword-like leaves, and
the sisal, a sort of American aloe which is being largely
cultivated here for its fibres. Flowers are few, save in
sheltered spots. In the rainy season, however, there are
many white convolvuluses. The scenery is all very un-
interesting, and on each occasion that I have travelled from
Mombasa to Nairobi I have evaded the monotony by going

AFTER BIG GAME

to sleep. The first time, we stopped at Voi for dinner, which
was served in the httle corrugated iron dak-bungalow which
did duty as a refreshment-room. JMany native women
gathered round the engine to fill their gourds and kerosene
tins Math water. Their sole article of clothing was a very
short double kilt covering the hips, but certainly not more
than ten inches in depth, which was made of a dirty-looking
khaki-coloured cloth. One curious feature of this trip to
Nairobi is that the clothing of the natives seems to disappear
pari passu with the foliage of the trees. The barer the trees
the nuder the people. They wore necklaces of beads and
brass chains, and their arms and ankles were adorned with
spirals of brass and copper wire. The babies were slung over
their backs in a kind of sling made of the same material as
the kilt. Each carried two or three brown gourds, and a half
cocoanut shell to use as a scoop. The gourds were distinctly
picturesque, but this certainly could not be said of the
kerosene tins, which supplied a decidedly discordant note.
Water is evidently very precious here, for as the train left,
the women rushed forward to scoop up the horrible black
mixture which filled the puddles where the engine had stood,
and ladled it into their gourds and tins.

The scenery here could hardly be described as pretty.
We were on the edge of the Taru desert — " the Thirst," as
the caravan porters aptly call it. There is long, coarse, dry
grass, burned off in great patches, with here and there a
melancholy tree, bearing evident traces of a stem struggle
for existence. A few dingy mud and wattle huts complete a
picture which is outlined on a rusty-red ground apparently
baked hard as a brick. It was this Taru desert which, before
the coming of the railway, formed the great barrier to com-
munication with the interior. Forty miles of waterless,
shadeless, foodless country, with a sixty-pound burden, was
no mean obstacle to be surmounted.

Fortunately while dinner was ending the night fell. I say
" fell," for no other word can adequately describe the coming
of the darkness. It absolutely rushes upon one like an
enveloping cloud. In these wide spaces one seems to see it
sweeping across the plains. I had never, before visiting

ID

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

the tropicS; realised to the full Coleridge's exquisite
description :

"The sun's rim dips,
The stars rush out,
At one stride comes the dark."

There was a glorious moon, which made the darkness a
rich, velvety black, through which the showers of sparks
from the engine swept like trails of golden fireflies.

Every now and agam we passed little native villages, with
the people sitting round fires outside their beehive-shaped
huts, which were dimly outlined in the glow. It was weird
and delightful, like a dim vision of another world. But the
night chill began to be felt, for we were now on the plateau,
and I was very tired and had, besides, all the symptoms of an
incipient cold. So with the usual precaution, fifteen grains
of quinine, I sought my berth.

In the morning, when the boy brought my early tea and
bananas, I was much better, albeit none too warm, in spite
of being buried under two Jaeger blankets, a topcoat and
various shawls. And this is tropical Africa ! But I re-
membered that we had climbed some 3000 feet during the
night. Moreover, the chill that comes before the da^vn is
always a little trying to one who has only just left the moist
heat of the coast.

Sultan Mahmud was our first stop in the morning, but I
had for some time been aware that the character of the
country had changed. Not far back, I had seen a clump
of real trees outside one of the little stations. They were
acacias, and made a charming picture as the morning sun
caught their red stems. There were flowers, too, gorgeous
purple and mauve and white, and green grass, welcome signs
that the desert was past and that we should get some relief
at any rate, from that red plague of dust. As it was, we bore
abundant traces of it. One's hair was full of it, one's face
and neck powdered with it, one's clothes and belongings
generally covered with it. Towels and handkerchiefs took
on a ruddy hue, and hairbrush and toilet apparatus also
conformed to the same scheme of colour.

II

AFTER BIG GAME

Oh that red ! Red plains diversified by burnt patches of
grass, with red hillocks in the background. The engines are
red, the carriages red, and the passengers red. You get
out on to a red platform, enter a red refreshment-room and
sit down to eat, with a mournful certainty that a large share
of the " peck of dust " which man is fated to consume will
be that abominable red product of African soil. Robert
remarked exasperatingly that after all it was only oxide of
iron and that iron as a medicine has its points.

Fortunately we had plenty of hot water to wash in. We
had breakfast in the bungalow at the station ; two little eggs,
bread and butter and tea at a cost of one rupee. I sat in
my topcoat and shawl while Robert, who had a touch of
ague, remained in the carriage. I was greatly amused watch-
ing the natives who thronged the station. Some of our
fellow-passengers, too, took advantage of the stop to leave
the train and perform their toilet in public by the side of the
track. A well-dressed Indian held the centre of the stage.
When I first saw him he was squatting on the rails with a
kettle in one hand and a short piece of stick in the other.
This is the usual native substitute for our toothbrush, and
with it he proceeded to clean his teeth, a most energetic per-
formance, and, to judge by appearances, entirely effective.
Then he poured the rest of the water from the kettle into his
hands, washed his face, and returned to the carriage. There
were many natives in the train, and some joined at every
stop. The native method of catching a train is character-
istically African. When the journey cannot be deferred any
longer, he strolls up to the station, squats in a corner under
the shelter of the corrugated iron shed, and waits. It is a
matter of perfect indifference whether the train comes to-day
or to-morrow. He waits. If the service were weekly instead
of daily he would wait all the same.

We moved out again. The region was now one great plain
of rolling grass land dotted with copses and undulating as
far as the eye could reach. The grass is green in the wet
season, greyish yellow and brown in the dry season. In the
background was the grey circle of some far-off hills, topped
by masses of clouds. The air was fresh and exhilarating ;

12

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

and, above all, everywhere around us was the game of which
we had heard so much but had not yet seen.

For we were now in the famous Big Game country. Along
the line it extends from Tsavo to Athi, and the great game
reserves stretch north and south over an area of more than
thirty thousand square mUes. From this point to our destina-
tion at Nairobi there was no single instant when specimens of
game of some kind could not be seen from the window. Often,
indeed, the great plains were covered with herds of beasts —
zebras, Grant's gazelle, Thomson's gazelle, kongoni and others,
numbering hundreds at a time. Here also were to be seen
ostriches in groups of two to eight ; the cock birds black, with
white necks and white mider-plumage, and the hens of a
dmgy brownish buff. One amazing feature is the indiffer-
ence with which they regard the train. The gazelles come
as near as twenty yards or so, and the ostriches within a
hundred. As we rush by, they just canter off to a little
distance and then turn round to look after us. The dainty
little Thomson's gazelle, the sportsman's " Tommy," is one
of the prettiest, in its coat of fawn with a black diagonal
stripe. One grey jackal I saw, stealing off through the grass.
It was just like a grey fox, not so big as a wolf. Almost at
the end of the journey I heard a terrific screech, and saw a
wild pig making off in a state of great excitement. He had
evidently made his lair too close to the track to be comfort-
able, and had got a bad scare as we passed. A giraffe or
two could be distinguished in the distance, but we saw no
lions. 1 am told that the lion is now rarely seen near the
line, either because he is naturally of a retiring disposition or
because he chiefly prefers to go abroad by night.

But the early history of the line teems with stories of the
King of Beasts and of hunting parties, in which man was
not always the hunter. Colonel J. H. Patterson's book.
The Man-Eaters of Tsavo, one of the most thrilling stories
ever written, is well worth perusal by anyone who desires
to appreciate the dangers and difficulties which have to be
met by the pioneers of civilisation. The author was in charge
of the construction of the great railway bridge at Tsavo, and
lions were known to be in the neighbourhood. Two of these

13

AFTER BIG GAME

suddenly developed a taste for the native workmen, who were
chiefly coolies from India. In all some twenty-eight victims
fell before their ferocity, many of them being dragged out
from the tents where they were sleeping in the midst of their
fellows. Finally the workmen struck, and the whole work
was held up for three weeks. Patterson made all sorts of
attempts to shoot them before finally succeeding. Much
the same tale is told at other stations, and one sees even
now the stages erected on the water tanks and elsewhere for
the purpose of shooting these marauders. But lion stories
are not always tragic. One historic instance, known through-
out British East Africa, is that of the Indian station-master
at Kimaa. Seeing a lion prowling about, he promptly shut
himself in the station house. The brute sprang on the roof
and tried to tear up the corrugated iron sheets with his great
claws. Whereupon the Babu sent off the following telegram :
" Lion fighting with station send urgent succour." Fortun-
ately the succour so urgently required came before the lion
had gained his way with the roof. Another famous example
runs : " Lion roaring round station. Porters at time of
roaring not so brave. What can do ? " Poor Babu !

But now, as we have said, lions rarely visit the line, and
the passengers who see them from the train are usually ladies
of keen imagination and positive views. Nevertheless a lion
was seen from the train on more than one occasion while I
was at Nairobi, and a zebra straying across the line was
struck by the engine and killed.

Many such stories, told by those connected with the
line, have the merit of truth. Sometimes it is a giraffe run
down by the engine ; sometimes a rhinoceros who, primitive
survival as he is, resents the coming of civilisation and
marks his resentment by a furious charge, from which he
retires, if not wiser, at least a sorer beast ; and sometimes
it is a tale — perfectly true in every detail — of a lion which
has sprung upon the train, seized his prey, and got clean away
with his unfortunate victim.

We reached Ulu, a small station, about eleven o'clock, and
received the comforting assurance from the guard that we
should be in Nairobi by two. Ulu is in the midst of a great

14

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILAVAY

undulating plain covered with dried-up grass. There is no
scrub, and the trees dotted here and there are small. The
soil is stiir red, but a rich-looking loam. Far away on the
horizon is a shadowy line of hills, and behind them, very
faintly outlined, the snowy peak of Kenia itself. These are
the great Athi plains.

The natives here, whom we see as usual bringing great
loads of wood for engme fuel, are a different lot from those
we have seen hitherto. They are the Kavirondo, a fine up-
standing race, admirably built and looking like beautiful
black statues. They are for the most part perfectly naked
and entirely unashamed, and I am told are the most moral
of the African tribes. They are the only natives I have seen
without some kind of covering. Some of the women, how-
ever, wear little garments more or less of the nature of a kilt.
These are dexterously woven of fibres or are made of palm
leaves sewn together ; they differ according to the social
status of the wearer, and are not without a certain ceremonial
or religious significance. The exquisites of both sexes
have the habit of covering their bodies with a mixture of
grease with some black pigment, rubbing it well into their
skin to make it blacker, a curious parallel to the white
woman's use of creams and powder. Many of the women
have scars upon their foreheads ; these are the marks of
incisions made to bring good luck to husband and family.
Others have huge weals across the abdomen made with a
similar intent. Before her husband sets out on an expedi-
tion the devoted wife will make a few cuts, into which she rubs
certain vegetable juices which have the effect of causing the
flesh to rise up into these great weals, the whole idea being
to ensure his success ; or a husband going into a fight fortifies
himself against his enemy by having a cut or two at his wife
beforehand. They also pull out a tooth from each jaw. I
have heard this explained as a precaution in the event of
lockjaw, so that the patient may be fed through the aperture.
But so far as I can learn, tetanus is no more prevalent here
than in any other part, and the Kavirondo are a very healthy
people. Possibly, if it could only be traced, there may be
some remote religious rite or superstition at the root of the

15

AFTER BIG GAME

custom. The Kavirondo occupy a great part of the area
between Nairobi and Lake Victoria, so that we saw a good
deal of them during the second part of our journey.

At Machakos we crossed, the stony Athi with its great
reed beds of papyrus and ; bulrushes, and a little further
groups of flat-topped acacias indicate that we are approach-
ing Nairobi. We were not sorry to descend, for I felt
wretched with my cold, and Robert was shaking with ague.
Stafford Belfield met us at the station with his car and drove
us over a bumpy red road bordered with trees, through a
town which seemed composed chiefly of " tin " houses and
incomplete stone buildings in various stages of construction,
to Government House, which stands on an upland moor
beyond the town. Here we found the Governor very ill, so
that we were quite a house of invalids. Robert went straight
to bed, while I got Yussif, the Swahili boy, to help Dmna to
impack. After dinner I too went straight to bed, and next
day was one complicated system of aches and pains and
asthma, so I stayed where I was. Our introduction to the
capital of British East Africa could hardly have been made
under more unpropitious circumstances. However, time
cures most ills ; the next day cured Robert's ague sufficiently
to enable him to visit the Governor, who was also on the
mend ; and the day after I was nearly myself again. The
quickness of our recovery bore ample testimony to the health-
giving properties of these central uplands.

II. NAIROBI

Nairobi, the coming metropolis of British East Africa,
and the present seat of Government, is a very " new " town.
Not much more than a dozen years ago it was part of the
great Athi plains and the game roamed over the site of its
streets. Even now it is not unusual to see antelope and
gazelle in the suburbs, where they occasionally raid the
gardens, doing much mischief and causing great annoyance.
Monie told me that, this year, they had quite spoiled her
roses at Government House. On a drive round the hills,
particularly Railway Hill, one is fairly sure to see specimens

i6

On tho Uganda Itailway.

riovciniiiont House, Nairobi.

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

of some kind. During our visit, too, a guest who cycled
in to dinner arrived in a state of great excitement, a leopard
having leaped on to him out of the darkness. He declared
that he had never done such pedalling before, and his appear-
ance certainly supported the statement.

Nairobi was originally selected as a suitable site for a
railway depot. It may have been convenient for that, but
it was certainly, everyone declares, a very bad site for a town,
which ought to have been much higher up, where it would
undoubtedly have been healthier. A little way off, say at
Kikuyu, would have been a much better choice, but the
depot had unfortunately grown into a town, and the site had
become fixed before anyone realised the error.

Looking at it now, it is difficult to believe that ten years
back there were but a few sheds and shanties of corrugated
iron to accommodate the workers on the railroad and their
material. There are now hundreds of buildings, some of
considerable architectural pretensions, well and artistically
built of stone. But Nairobi is for the most part still faithful
to its original material ; it is still in the Iron Age of develop-
ment ; and the scornful do not hesitate to refer to it as " Tin
TowTi." Corrugated iron has its merits, but these are rather
utilitarian than artistic. But these iron houses, crude as
they may be outside, lack nothing in the way of comfort.
The private residences, too, are tempered to the artistic eye
by masses of creepers and flowering shrubs, which flourish
here in unimaginable profusion. The passion flower in par-
ticular grows in wonderful abundance. There are hedges
of it, yards across, and where it is trained over arches it
forms great bridges, giving abundance of flowers and any
quantity of fruit. The gardens are -splendid. All kinds of
European flowers grow here far more luxuriantly than at
home, and display far more brilliant colourmg. Practically
all the white residents live on the low hills surrounding the
commercial town, and their bungalows look charming nestling
among the trees and flowers.

The t(nvn lies on a plain at the foot of some low hills.
Origuially there was one main street, a broad thoroughtare
bordered with blue gum trees. Crossing this at right angles
B 17

AFTER BIG GAME

was one long street devoted to the Indian traders. Now
there are four or five broad avenues, with cross-roads running
from them through the suburbs out into the wild. Starting
as it were from nothing, it has been possible to plan the town
on broad, open and convenient lines, so that in time to come
it will probably be worthy of its position as the capital of
our East African Empire. Already the big interests are
housed in good stone buildings, mostly two stories in height,
with red roofs. Hundreds of the galvanised iron variety
still exist, but, thanks to the vegetation and to the various
schemes of colouring adopted, they do not look so bad as
they sound. One great blot, however, is the native quarter,
with all its squalor and filth, right in the middle of the town.
If this could be removed to a place farther from the centre,
it would be far better both for comfort and for health. It is,
of course, difficult to do justice to Nairobi ; for as it stands
now it is so very much " in the making," and the impression
one gets of the streets is distinctly unfavourable. There are
fine buildings, but the streets seem to be littered with all
kinds of rubbish. Builders do not seem to clear up after
them, so that there is a general air of slovenliness. But while
one can only describe the town as hideous, the suburbs are
lovely. The views are entrancing, both in their charm and
in their extent, and there are many beauty spots to be found.

Government House stands on a little hill looking right
over the town to the great plains beyond. The prospect is
magnificent. Right away to the north, Kenia, a huge mass
rather than a mountain, rears her central snow-capped cone
right to the clouds, while to the south, on a clear day, one
may dimly see the twin peaks of Kilima Njaro faint and grey
across a distance of two hundred and fifty miles.

There is no doubt whatever as to the future of Nairobi.
Whatever may be said as to the town itself, the great plateau
on which it stands is midoubtedly " White Man's Country."
The climate has been described as that of a perpetual English
summer, and while I am hardly prepared to subscribe to that,
there is no doubt that it offers exceptional advantages.
Being so near the Equator, it has, of course, no seasons.
Most crops fruit twice during the year, and trees make

i8

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

double growth. The direct rays of the suii are very hot at
noon ; and this is very trying at first, as the contrast with
the cold of mornings and evenings is very marked. A huge
log fire was always kept burning in the evenings in the hall
at Government House, and was highly appreciated. The
mean temperature of the nights is 45°. But although the
sun is so hot at midday, there is none of that overpowermg
and suffocating heat which one feels on the coast or in the
low-lying areas around Victoria Nyanza. There is plenty
of rain without superabimdance. The annual average is
forty inches, and this occurs mostly in the two rainy seasons,
April to May and November to December. There are no
mosquitoes, there is practically no malaria, and there are
no endemic diseases. There is no tsetse fly to work havoc
among the cattle, and they can now be brought here by rail
across the " fly belt."

The numerous great farms m the vicinity bear ample
testimony to the fertility of the soil, and there is no doubt
that in the near future this will become one of the greatest
agricultural areas of the world. There are about 150,000
acres of suitable land in the Protectorate, and making all
allowances for the Native Reservations and game reserves,
there is ample opportunity for enterprise in stock raising and
in cultivation. As for the latter, most things which grow in
Europe will do well here, and there arc, besides, great possi-
bilities in the cultivation of sub-tropical plants. Coffee,
tobacco, various fibres and even cotton will flourish, and it
is only necessary for the Government to grant facilities to
intending settlers to make this a great and flourishing colony.
I visited some of the estates in the neighbourhood and was
greatly struck with the industrial possibilities of the country.

With such a climate, the life of the European residents
falls into accustomed grooves. There is plenty of golf and
tennis, and riding, polo and racing are highly popular.
There is an excellent polo-ground here and a race-course,
and another race-course at Nakuru. Riding and driving are
very popular, and few things are pleasanter than a drive in
Nairobi in the early morning or in the afternoon when the
sun has lost its midday power. There is also huntmg, for

19

AFTER BIG GAME

which the jackal provides the sport ; and the Governor has
pointers and raises their puppies successfully. Besides the
officials connected with the Government and the railway,
there are many white settlers, often men of good family, who
have come here to open up the country and incidentally to
build up a competence. There are also land speculators, on
whom the residents generally look askance ; and usually
some visitors, more or less distinguished, of the globe-
trotting class ; and lastly, the sportsmen who have come
after the big game and for whose benefit there exist a number
of " safari " outfitters who are willing to supply the necessary
equipment for a hunting expedition down to the smallest
detail. There are also several English professional men,
doctors, dentists, lawyers, estate agents and so forth, so that
for a town as yet in its early teens Nairobi makes no
inconsiderable show.

The means of transport include the motor car, a very few
horses, donkeys, bullocks, and here and there perhaps a
camel or a zebra broken to harness. I saw only one camel
during my stay. They do not thrive here, but they are
brought to go with safaris which take the northern Guaso
Nyiro route, part of which lies across desert. A pair of
zebras is often seen in harness. Mr Edgell, who has a place
just outside Nairobi, has made a speciality of training them
to harness, with some considerable success. It is, however,
difficult to overcome the instincts which they have acquired
in the wild state. The sight of a lion or of its spoor seems to
send them frantic. Attempts have also been made to cross
the zebra with the horse and the ass, but only with a small
measure of success. With Grevy's zebra, however, which is
bigger and stronger than the common species, it is hoped to
produce a useful animal for transport purposes. Similar
experiments with these and other animals are being carried
on elsewhere both by the Government and by private in-
dividuals. There is a Government Experimental Farm at
Nairobi, where many experiments are being carried on, of
which some account will be found in another chapter. The
ordinary mode of transport in Nairobi is by rickshaw. These
are the little toy-like carriages of the East, a sort of lilliputian

20

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

chair on wheels with shafts, drawn by one native boy and
pushed by another. The motive power is clad in a wisp of
cloth twisted negligently around the loins, possibly as a con-
cession to British prejudice. Indeed, some kind of costume
is insisted upon in Nairobi. Haulage is done largely in little
low carts drawn by humped cattle. These are smaller than
our cows at home, and have a huge hump upon the shoulders.
They were, I believe, originally introduced from India.

The natives are employed on the roads and the various
public works, on the railway and on the plantations. They
are not, so far, particularly energetic or reliable, but will
doubtless improve in time. There is a great deal of wood-
cutting done in the adjoining forests, for fuel and for building
purposes. One of our photographs shows a gang of convicts
engaged in cutting and carrying fuel for Government House.
The wood is made into huge bundles and is carried to its
destination by women. It is amazing to see the size of the
stack that each can carry on her head, or slung on her back
by a strap passing across her forehead ; and all, apparently,
without the slightest inconvenience.

The native labourer, of course, earns very little, his pay
averaging perhaps threepence or fourpence a day. This,
however, is affluence in a country where he can live in absolute
comfort for about a shilling a month.

As in most parts of the East, much of the retail trade is in
the hands of Indians. One street, which crosses the main
thoroughfare at right angles, is full of their shops. These
Indians are the keenest of bargainers, frugal in their habits,
and can live on the very simplest of food. They lay them-
selves out to undersell the Europeans, and it must be con-
fessed that they generally succeed in doing so. But many
of the smaller of the Indian traders live m squalid fashion
and under the most deplorable sanitary conditions, which
makes their presence, in the midst of a civilised community
and under a hot sun, anything but desirable.

Sometimes the carts are drawn by teams of natives, greasy,
perspiring and clad in the usual concession to propriety.
Now and again, however, we passed a trap drawn by little
white and brown Somali ponies or by mules, two or three to

21

AFTER BIG GAME

each. The camel that I met was pulHng a cart, and seemed
to resent the appearance of our car, for he came to a stand-
still right across the way and deliberately made faces at us.
It was a long while before three or four boys could apply
sufficient moral and physical persuasion to get him to move
out of our way.

The most interesting feature of Nairobi is, however, the
extraordinary variety of peoples to be seen about its streets.
There are natives of the Kikuyu, Kamba, Kavirondo, Somali,
Masai and Nandi tribes, and Swahilis from the coast ; with here
and there a specimen of the Wandorobo, a curious mongrel
race, with no settlements or tribal organisation, the waifs
and strays of Africa, poor in physique, abject in demeanour,
slaves by instinct and habit, the survivals of neolithic man.
Then there are the Indian traders, fat and greasy, quaintly
clad in closely buttoned long black coats and bright calico
or linen trousers ; babus employed in the warehouses or on
the railway and full of the importance of their office ; abject
coolies ; a few Europeans, and a sprinkling of white women,
and occasionally a white child. The mixture of race and
costume makes up a scene not easily forgotten. Settlers,
too, in their riding kit, come in from the outlying districts.
On race week, in particular, everyone comes in from near and
far.

One of the pleasantest experiences during my stay at
Nairobi was a visit to the Nakuru Show. This " Stock and
Agricultural Show " is one of the big events of British East
Africa, and is held each year about Christmas time. Exhibits
of stock and produce are sent from all over the country, and
the "week" has its social as well as its eonmiercial side.
On one of the days a race meeting is held ; on another the
great cattle sale of the year, and there are always a ball, a
gymkhana, and so on. The whole thing is under the control
of the Pastoralists' Association. As it was to be my first
experience imder canvas, I looked forward with eagerness
to having a most enjoyable time. I was again a guest
of Lady Belfield, his Excellency attending in his official
capacity.

Arriving at the station, I found the party waiting, and for

22

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

the second time I did the lovely journey out of Nairobi.
Travelling in the Governor's special train, it was, however,
much more delightful than on my previous experience.
For one thing, at Kikuyu, Mr Brett (Sir Henry's private
secretary), Mr Donald Seth Smith, Monie and I went on to
the cowcatcher in front of the engine, where comfortable
seats had been prepared, and had a glorious run to Escarp-
ment station. There we lunched in the saloon, after which
Sir Henry and Monie Belfield, Mr Brett and myself returned
to the cowcatcher and had a wonderful ride winding down the
Escarpment. The track lies on the wall of the great Rift,
with hills on the one side looking just like a scene in Switzer-
land, and on the other the great Rift valley, stretchmg far,
far below. The fascination of rushing through the air with
nothing in front of us but the ever-changing scenery was
extreme. After leaving Naivasha we passed a number of
fine red impala, a great troop of baboons and all kinds of
antelope and gazelle. At one point a beautiful serval cat
leaped up from beside the railway line only a few feet away ;
the roar of the train must have disturbed it from its sleep.
This animal is said to be the swiftest of all the wild-cat tribe,
and judging by the speed with which it disappeared I can well
believe it. At any rate its legs are long enough. The most
interesting experience was, however, a fight between some
vultures and a number of jackals. The birds had managed
to discover a " kill " which the jackals tried hard to secure,
snapping and snarling at the birds and makmg rush after rush,
only to be driven back by the cruel beaks and talons without
gaining their end. When about fifteen miles from, our
destination, the engine broke do^Mi. A pipe had burst, and
the water dripping into the fire half extinguished it, at the
same time emptying the boiler. We got off the train and
walked about the line, watching the driver's efforts to patch
things up and get enough steam to take us on to Nakuru.
Finally we started again. Wc had, however, lost so much
time that when we got there it was after dark and too late to
go into camp. Captain Winthrop-Smith met us on the
platform with the information that the principal ladies of the
place, seven or eight of them, had been waiting in the station

23

AFTER BIG GAME

for over an hour to welcome Lady Belfield. They came to the
train and were presented, and then we dined in the saloon and
slept the night in the train. Early in the morning we walked
over to the camp. Everything had been admirably arranged.
Lines of large white stones marked the path to each tent, and
a broad road led past the sentries' quarters to the Governor's
office, and then on to the big tent which was used as a dining-
room, and where all the receptions were held.

On the first day, a number of people came to lunch. Monie
had gone on to Anjore to stay with Mr and Mrs Sewell, and
in the afternoon we went in Mr Taylor's special train (he is
the manager of the Uganda Railway) to Anjore as well. We
had tea and went over the farm. The house is delightfully
situated on a hill-side looking down on Lake Nakuru and over
stretches of beautiful hills. Mrs Sewell took us over her
poultry farm. She was justly proud of her Rhode Island
Reds and her turkeys. We saw some wheat being threshed,
and visited some very nice horses which had been bred there.
Curiously enough, I saw three snakes this day, the only snakes
I met with during the whole of our stay ; for there are
apparently very few in this part of the country. The first
was a puff-adder ; the second, just as I stepped out of the
train, a long white snake ; and then, in the evening, Lady
Belfield killed a puff-adder outside her tent. A number of
guests came to dinner. It rained all the time, and some of
the water came through the tent, which made things a trifle
uncomfortable ; but afterwards it cleared, the moon shone
out brilliantly and we all sat round an enormous camp-fire.
My first night under canvas was a most comfortable one. I
had a capital little tent. A lamp hung from the centre-pole,
a cosy camp-bed occupied one side, and my toilet things were
arranged on my tin box opposite. The bath had the place
of honour in the centre of the tent. In spite of the strange-
ness of the surromidings I slept soundly until Meriamum, my
boy, woke me at six o'clock, bringing in my tea. Opening
up the front of my tent, I saw his Excellency, who was
already astir, strolling round the camp.

This was the opening day of the show, and I had a most
interesting day among the exhibits. The yard had been laid

24

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

out with a central ring, on one side of which was a small
" grand stand." Around were pens with sheep, pigs, cattle,
horses, dogs and poultry. There were numbers of stalls
well filled with agricultural produce, and the competition
between the exhibits was very close. I was specially inter-
ested in the examples of sisal. That from Nyali took the first
prize. There were beans of various kinds, white, yellow,
brown and spotted ; also wheat, maize and many other
things.

At one o'clock there was a sort of inaugurating luncheon
given in an open shed, the Governor and visitors occupying
a raised table at one end. After the King's health had been
drunk, the Governor, who is an admirable speaker, delivered
an important address, which was followed by other speeches,
after which we went back to the camp for dinner.

The next morning before the show opened I went with
his Excellency and Lady Belfield to see the cattle dip. This
was very exciting. The cattle are driven through a narrow
pen. At the farther end is a slide, doAvn which they slip into
a long trough of "dip." They have to swim through this
and clamber out at the other end. The object was to show
how cattle are dipped to prevent any infection being carried
by the ticks they may bring. While I stood by, 12G cattle
were put through in twenty -three minutes.

I took a number of snapshots and then strolled off to a
group of natives of a kind I had not seen before. They were
Suk and Turkana, who had been brought do^\Ti to the show
by their District Commissioner, Mr Reid. The Suks wear
a strange headdress like an oval doormat hanging down
their backs. This is composed of their ancestors' hair matted
with their own. Another tribe wore a strange half hoop of
flexible steel, one end fixed to the back of the head and the
other reaching to within a short distance of the neck. When
they arc marching in the sun they put a piece of mutton fat
or suet upon this, which, as it melts, drips do\vn upon their
necks and backs, acting in much the same way as the spine-
pad we are recommended to wear on safari. These and the
Suk carry quaint little stools, broad pieces of wood with four
legs. It looked very comical to sec these huge savages

25

AFTER BIG GAME

with such tiny seats, until it was explained that these served
the purpose of a pillow to support the neck and prevent their
quaint headdresses from being disarranged during sleep.
Their ideas of clothing are even more primitive than those of
most savages. The sole garment consists of a kind of cape
thrown over the shoulders, a few strings of beads and orna-
ments of bone and wood completing the effect. They are
tall, some of them exceptionally so, and very well made.
When shown the prize bull, of which its owner was immensely
proud, they asked to have it killed that they might judge
for themselves whether it deserved the award.

Riding and driving competitions followed, and then a lunch,
at which I did not put in an appearance, only arriving in time
to see the Governor and Lady Belfield distribute the prizes.
I walked back to the camp with Herr von Heidemann, the
German vice-consul, and Mr Rodwell, manager of the Nyali
Sisal Company, whose exhibit had gained the first prize.
Lord and Lady Arthur Hay were of the company at dinner,
being on their way to stay with Lady Belfield's eldest
daughter, Mrs Ward, at Muthaga. Lady Arthur Hay is very
entertaining, and kept us all amused at table. After dinner
all the company went on to a dance at the Nakuru hall.
Lady Belfield left after two or three dances, but I remained.
I did not, however, dance, save once, as I found it too
hot in the crowded room, but strolled about in the
moonlight with Captain Winthrop-Smith and Mr Rodwell.
Such was the fascination of the soft African night that when
we got back to camp we sat together over the huge camp-fire
till one o'clock. These tropical nights were often wonder-
ful beyond anything I had dreamed. After breakfast I
walked over to the police lines. On the way I saw a dead
donkey, the first I had seen in my life. There were many
chameleons sunning themselves on the rocks, and it was
interesting to watch the quaint creatures with their staring
eyes and their different colours. By eleven it was too hot
to stay out in the sun, so we returned to the A.D.C.'s tent
and sat under the fly, chatting till lunch. After lunch I
went with his Excellenc}'^ and Major Legget to the gymkhana.
We took the car over some very rough country, and finally

26

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

had to get out and walk, having missed the only negotiable
track, which was practically indistinguishable from its sur-
roundings. There were races for mules and ponies, and a
final tea. Lady Belfield arrived later, with IMr Rodwell.
At six o'clock we left, to find the camp all packed up ready
for departure. We went to the station ; and Mr Taylor, the
manager of the Uganda Railway, very kindly offered Major
and Mrs Legget, Mrs Stordy, Mr Rodwell and myself seats in
his special train back to Nairobi. The Governor and his
suite left in their train for Uganda, where they were going on
an official safari. We had a final most lively and enjoyable
dinner in the Governor's saloon ; then the good-byes were
said and we sought our berths. We arrived at Nairobi
shortly after breakfast the next morning.

III. NAIROBI TO VICTORIA NYANZA

As my husband, after returning from his trip to the Guaso
Nyiro, wished to take a further two or three weeks' shooting
in the neighbourhood of Voi and Tsavo, after the famous
fringe-eared oryx which is to be found in that district, I made
up my mind that I would in the meantime fulfil one of mj'-
great desires and cross the great Lake Victoria to the source
of the Nile. His Excellency and Lady Belfield were good
enough to allow their daughter Monica to accompany me,
and her companionship added greatly to the pleasure of the
trip. Indeed, but for it, I doubt whether I should have
undertaken the journey at all.

It was on Sunday, 22nd January 1914, that we left Nairobi.
The station was all bustle and confusion, the natives rushing
frantically about in every direction. A big safari was just
starting, and the native porters, each with a great bundle
on his head and a long pole in his hand, swarmed on the
platform, packing themselves into their carriages with
tremendous chattering and any amount of excited gesticula-
tion. We steamed out of the station at noon. The way
lay at first over the flat country which forms the extreme
end of the East African plateau. The road rose as we
climbed the steep incline to the eastern edge of the great

27

AFTER BIG GAME

Rift valley. The Kikuyu summit is 7600 feet above sea-
level, so that we had to momit some 2000 feet in little over
fifteen miles. Needless to say, the travelling is not rapid.
Indeed, hmnorous people assert that natives wishing to save
themselves the trouble of walking to Nairobi station simply
wait beside the track until the train reaches them, and then
jump on without waiting for it to stop. I am bound to say
that I saw nothing to corroborate the story except the fact
that the rate of travel was unquestionably slow. There are
no great engineering difficulties in tliis section, but the
gradients are steep and the cuttings deep. We had from
here a capital view of the Ngong hills, with their four peaks.
On the highest of these, so the story goes, the Masai found
the chief of their gods, who was so pleased with his reception
that he stayed with them and founded the clan of the
medicine men by whom even now the tribe is ruled. Behind
the hills lies one of the chief Masai resei-ves.

The keen mountain air was most exhilarating, and
sharpened the appetite to such a pitch that we were glad
to extemporise a lunch of sardines, bread and butter and
juicy mangoes, the latter taking the place of the drinks
which some forgetful soul had omitted to include in our
provisions. The scenery was delightful, consisting of great
rolling hills and spreading uplands with forests and pastures.
On the latter occasional small herds of cattle and sheep were
grazing. Here and there a quaint little native hut was to
be seen.

We reached Kikuyu at two. The station was alive with
natives, some inost picturesque in cloaks of skin and hide
thro"v^Ti gracefully across their shoulders, and their skins
liberally smeared with a mixture of brick-red clay and oil.
The hair is similarly treated and plaited into short pigtails
bound up with leather thongs. The ear ornaments are more
in evidence than ever, the top of each ear being adorned with
three or four sticks like match stalks, while the lobe is pierced
with a hole large enough to accommodate corks, wooden
plugs, cotton reels and even glass and china jars. Often the
distension is so great that the lobe rests on the shoulder.
It is one of the proofs of advancing civilisation that the

28

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

exquisite among the Kikuyu now eschews the aid of jampots
and contents himself with looping the lobe festoon-wise over
the top of the ear. Chains of shells hanging to the waist
complete the pictm'e. The skin or hide which forms the
sole garment is fastened over the shoulder, but hangs open
down the side, displaying the lithe, muscular limbs and leav-
ing these and the body quite unfettered. The Kikuyu were
certainly the most picturesque of the native races I had yet
seen.

From Kikuyu the eye ranges across great plains, with a
wealth of stock, to the distant hills, and perhaps, if the day
is clear, to the great mountain mass of Kenia itself. But
Kenia is coy, and reveals her beautiful snow-clad peak only
for a few minutes in the morning or about four in the after-
noon. A striking feature here is the abundance of black
wattle trees which are grown for their bark. The station
garden is glorious with a wealth of bloom. One curious tree
here, which the natives call Muhiigu, has a thin, slightly
spreading crown, and is very useful for timber, since its wood
resists the ravages of the white ant. It is exported as sandal-
wood, and in texture is very similar to the sandalwood of
India. The characteristic odour is, however, far less pro-
nounced. There is a noticeable bush which bears a fruit like
a yellow tomato or crab-apple ; its native name is Tunguya.
An infusion made from its fruit is used as a specific in cases
of inflammation and swelling. It is largely employed in
native ceremonials, being supposed to have a magical effect
in averting evil. It is, I think, a variety of solanum.
Beside the station stands a large galvanised iron building
of the type familiar in the East, a wattle factory where the
bark is treated so that it can be used in tanning. From the
train one can see the Kikuyu cultivating their little plots of
mealies, while the tiny children herd the two or three humped
cattle or the little flocks of hairy native sheep, white, brown
or black.

The train continued to wind its painful way up past wild
jungle growths and wattle-planted hills until at three o'clock
we reached Limoru, the summit of the Eastern Escarpment.
Here there are wild bananas, tree ferns and bamboos. There

29

AFTER BIG GAME

is also the Mwethia, a bush which bears long racemes of
greenish-yellow flowers. Other flowers, yellow and red, very
like those we call red-hot pokers, grow in profusion. Little
native boys came round to the carriages with roughly made
baskets full of strawberries. These are somewhat like our
wild strawberry, but are sweeter and rather earthy in taste.
Tea was served at a table on the tiny platform, the kettle
being boOed on a little bonfire.

Leaving the station, we passed a row of small corrugated
iron houses built on the hill-side, the nucleus of the Limoru
which is to come in the future. The country grew wilder.
Now and again we saw a native armed with a long spear
cautiously making his way through the dense undergrowth
or grass as high as himself, and now and again files of native
women carrying enormous bundles of wood. These are
heavier than most men would care to lift, averaging, I am
told, some two hmidred pounds ; the bmidles are slung
across the shoulders by a forehead strap. The babies are
carried in a leather pouch behind, except when the mother
has a load of firewood, when the little one is carried in front.
It is rather a pitiful spectacle to see them trotting along, bent
almost double under the weight of their burdens. Yet they
do not seem to mind. Women in xifrica are allotted all the
heavy tasks, and appear to be considered simply as beasts
of burden.

We now entered the Lari swamp, a beautiful hollow in
the hills, where ferns and undergrowth alternate with
stretches of grass and thickets of bush and clumps of trees.
Emerging, we came on a building ill suited to the beauty of
the scene — the Uplands Bacon Factory, an erection of the
inevitable iron type, but the forerunner of a great industry
of the future. Beyond was the summit of a great hill.
We passed through some woods of eucalyptus, and
suddenly found ourselves gazing dowTi into the wonderful
Rift valley. The farther side was dimly marked by a
long flat-topped ridge, the edge of the Mau Escarpment,
and in front of this stood the peak of Mount Longonot,
the summit of which we had already seen. From Limoru
the line winds weu'dly down, curve on curve, to Escarpment

30

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

station, and it is from here that we look down, into the
great Rift.

It is usual to call it the Rift valley, but no valley known
to geography was ever comparable to this. The Great Rift
is no water-worn depression in the folds of the hills. It is
the scar of some unimaginable convulsion which must in
geological times have changed the whole face of the continent.
A section of the Central Plateau, 40 miles wide and nearly
1800 miles long, has been driven or crushed downward to a
depth of 2000 feet. In the depressions of its floor lie the great
lakes, Naivasha, Nakuru, Baringo and Rudolf. Another
gigantic rift to the west, and on the east the vast trough
filled by the Red Sea, testify to the titanic forces which have
in the distant past gone to the shaping of Africa.

The scenery is wonderfully, mdescribably beautiful.
Some parts remind one irresistibly of Switzerland. From
Escarpment station one looks down into a grey mist which
half hides and half reveals a wild highland scene, in which
rocky ridge upon ridge roll away into the distance like the
waves of a congealed sea. It is all dim, weird and wonderful.
The banks are everywhere precipitous, sometimes dropping
sheer for hundreds of feet. Down them the railway runs,
winding, doubling back upon itself, and crossing many ravines
by viaducts that seem hung in space. There are eight of
these viaducts on this side, and on the other, twenty-seven.
Originally the traffic was carried down the steeper inclines
by specially constructed trolley cars running up and down
the track by the aid of a drum and an endless wire, the weight
of the descending car serving to pull the other up. The
trolleys were built with one end higher than the other, so
that the floor should remain level when they were running on
the sloping track. These were in use for about eighteen
months, and were finally discarded in 1900. We reached
Kijabe at four-twenty p.m. The word means zvind, and no
more appropriate name could have been selected. Around
the station are the usual iron shanties, and hanging round the
platform the usual groups of natives of various tribes and
styles of attire. Huge stacks of wood for the engines have
been collected here. There are great numbers of birds to be

31

AFTER BIG GAME

seen, eagles, kites, vultures and the marabout stork. The
woods are mhabited by the famous colobus monkey. The
forest region begins here, and besides the ordinary trees there
are great junipers, some of them springing aloft fifty or sixty
feet without a branch. These are imfortunately liable to
the attacks of a fungus which eats away the heart of the tree,
so that the stateliest specimen is often no more than a hollow
shell.

Towards the plain the forests disappear and are replaced
by scrub. This is the mimosa thorn, standing some seven or
eight feet in height, with dark green foliage resembling some-
thing between a fir and a hawthorn. We passed here a
gloomy eagle perched on a telegraph post, the first of his
kind we had seen. Beautiful blue birds of the size of an
English blackbird flitted round in great numbers. We also
saw two ostriches feeding and a herd of zebra grazing with a
number of impala, a beautiful red deer. Our route carried
us close by the foot of Mount Longonot, the cone of which
seems to spring right out of the crater of another extinct
volcano. Both are bare, furrowed and scarred as if by some
great blast of fire.

At Naivasha we had our first glimpse of Lake Naivasha,
which has two or three islands in the foreground and a range
of hills on the opposite side. The station had a shed into
which we went for tea and eggs. The place was surrounded
by crowds of natives and their herds of cattle and donkeys ;
there were also typical highland carts laden with bundles of
grass and drawn by teams of ten, twelve or fourteen bullocks.
Naivasha was in days gone by the headquarters of the Masai.
These have now, however, been transferred to the Laikipia
plains. The town is at present in the primitive stage ; there
are a few scattered houses, the adumbration of a street or two,
and that is all. But the place has undoubtedly a future ;
and time and the railway, to say nothing of the Government
Experimental Farm, will in a few years make it a flourishing
town.

The lake is delightful. Great beds of reed and papyrus
fringe its shores, vast stretches of the blue lotus lily float on
its waters, and innumerable wild birds and animals frequent

32

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

its banks. Unfortunately the day was cloudy, and the failmg
rays of the setting sun pierced their way with difficulty
through the cloud-rifts and threw a pale radiance on the
waters. Multitudes of the blue birds, and of white birds
with long black tails, flitted about the trees, and we passed
hundreds of zebra grazing. It is strange how accustomed
these wild creatures have grown to the tram. Many of them
were within fifty yards of the track, yet the only sign they
gave of having noticed our presence was just a casual lift of
the head and a curious gaze. Two of the beautiful Kavirondo
cranes, like large-crested storks, were stalking near.

The character of the vegetation soon changed, the mimosa
thorns disappeared, and the grass was dotted over with
stumpy little trees like the olive. The ground was very dry
and sandy, like the margm of a desert, and it was evident that
there is little nourishment here for vegetation of any kind.
After the glorious scenery of the hills, this was frankly dis-
appointing. But the dreariness was relieved by a wonderful
blue haze, which suffused the atmosphere and seemed to lend
a mysterious beauty to the distant hills.

At six-thirty we reached Gil-Gil, a few iron huts in a desert.
The only relieving feature was a solitary team of fourteen
bullocks hanicssed to a heavy wagon. But even a bullock
team cannot hold one's attention indefinitely, and we were
glad when the engine had been duly supplied with fuel and
water and we could start afresh. By now the darkness
had fallen, and we saw nothing more save the myriads of
sparks that flashed in long trails of light past our carriage
windows. At Elmcnteita there was another halt. When
we set off once more it was quite dark, and we retired for the
night.

During the darkness wc climbed the Mau, to a height of
8.350 feet. It is just as well, I am told, to make the ascent
by night, for the great ridge is a vast, bare wilderness of grass
and sky. But the descent through the forest is a fine experi-
(>ncc, the vegetation showing successively every variety of
tyj)e from the temperate to tlic tropical. The air undergoes
a like change, the healthy, invigorating briskness giving place
to an atmosphere of muggy oppressiveness. We entered at

c 33

AFTER BIG GAME

last on a wide plain covered with long grass, and dotted
here and there with stunted trees, a very unmviting land-
scape. The steep Escarpment lay behind, and everywhere
were little beehive-shaped huts surrounded by hedges. The
stunted trees wore silvery green foliage, and were covered
with long thorns. And as for Victoria Nyanza itself, the
long-looked-for goal of our journey, I am bound to confess
that our first view of that was not particularly attractive
either.

The wide, shallow, muddy creek that met our eyes was
certainly far from imposing ; but one has to remember that
our station. Port Florence, is on Kavirondo Gulf, an inlet
of the lake, and not the great sea itself. Kisumu, the native
town, is about two miles away across the gulf. Officially,
Port Florence is called Kisumu, and as such it will probably
be generally knoAvn when it becomes, as in course of time it
undoubtedly will, the great entrepot for the trade of Central
Africa.

IV. THE SOURCE OF THE NILE

I have said that our first glimpse of the Great Lake we
had come so far to see was disappointing. Instead of the
vast inland sea of one's imagination there is only a sort of
creek, for the most part shallow, and of that dull, uninter-
esting tone one is apt to associate with muddy backwaters.
Originally the shores consisted of great mud flats, but much
has been done by the building of embankments to reclaim a
portion of the foreshore and make a convenient landing-place
for the steamers which ply on the lake. Two of these lay at
the pier on to which our train ran, and we went on board
one of these, the CleineiU Hill, which was to take us across the
lake, or rather across one corner of it.

It was quite interesting to watch from the steamer's deck
the native porters at work loading the boats, or carrying with
apparent ease heavy burdens to the little iron customs shed
on the pier. They seemed a merry crowd ; they were cer-
tainly a noisy one, destitute of clothing save for the loin-
cloth which British propriety exacts in all its stations and

34

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

which does so Httle to satisfy it. Their bodies shone with oil
or with perspiration, and one couJd watch the play of the
muscles under the skin.

We were fortunately able to get a bath and breakfast ;
and then the morning, which had been dull, broke, and when
we left the pier the waters of the gulf were transformed
under the glorious sunshine. The Gulf of Kavirondo is some
forty miles in length. As we steamed along, the grey of
the distant mountains was suffused with a blue haze only a
shade lighter than the water, and deeper than the blue of
the sky which serves as their background.

There are many islets here, some of them mere clumps of
grass like swans' nests floating on the water. The farther
we go the more beautiful the scenery becomes, until, looking
backwards toward the port we have just left, my memory
carries me back thousands of miles till I find myself rubbing
my eyes and wonderuig if I am really on a steamer in the
heart of savage Africa, or am on a boat just like this, sailing
over a salt sea on my way to the Outer Hebrides, with the
blue hills of Skye behind. Nor does the climate interfere
with the idea. Although we are practically on the Equator,
the heat is by no means so great as might be imagined — ^no
worse, indeed, than sometimes on a hot day in England.
The decks are, of course, covered with a roof and awnings to
keep off the sun. But it must be remembered that Victoria
is not one of the valley lakes, but stands on the plateau
between the two rifts at an altitude of some four thousand feet
above the sea. Lunch, a doze, and then four-o'clock tea, and
the mountains have all but disappeared, and we are ncaring
the entrance of the gulf. The shores here close in and break
into numerous islands, some large, some small, some barren
and rocky, others like little low hills covered with trees and
patches of dried-up grass, and fringed with clumps of reeds.
On them, too, we see many ant-hills, looking for all the world,
from the distance, like stacks of hay set up to dry.

There is now a delightfully cool evening breeze blowing
from the lake and rippling its waters. We pass the islands
that stand like guardians at the entrance of the gulf, and
now we are on the bosom of a vast inland sea that stretches

35

AFTER BIG GAME

away to the horizon. By seven o'clock we entirely lose sight
of land. The sun is low down on the waters, and his slant
beams fill the distance with a deep red glow which here and
there changes into ruddy gold as they break through the
masses of dark grey cloud. Then darkness falls, and we
anchor for the night. Navigation here is unsafe save in
daylight. The lake is so huge, covering an area nearly as
great as that of Scotland, that its reefs are as yet imperfectly
charted and its currents are unknown with anything like
certainty. It is said to teem with fish. The natives tell
weird stories of a terrible monster, the " Lukwata," which,
they say, dwells in its depths, and which, if one may credit
the descriptions of those who have caught sight of it, must be
a near relative of those " dragons of the slime that tare each
other in the prime," some belated saurian from prehistoric
times. Or, more probably, like " that sea-beast leviathan,"
he may owe most of his fearsome attributes to legend, which
rarely minimises what it records. To our regret, we saw
nothing of the Lukwata. It would have been something
like an achievement to have been the first to bring back a
photograph of such a curiosity. The nearest approach to a
prehistoric monster that we saw was a crocodile. He, at
any rate, is no myth, and can at any time be seen basking
along the lake shores. There are plenty of hippopotami
among the reeds, but I saw none on this trip except in the
head waters of the Nile below the Ripon Falls.

As may be imagined, boat-building is a fine art on the
shores of Lake Victoria. The native canoes are often of
extraordinary capacity, holding sometimes as many as a
hundred men. The Waganda venture out in them in all
weathers. They are very swift, and apparently seaworthy,
in spite of the fact that the planks are sewn together with
vegetable fibres.

When I arrived on deck in the morning we were passing
through a sea of islands, the Sesse Archipelago. Many of
these are of considerable size, and there is an extraordinary
diversity of appearance among them. Some are thickly
covered with forest trees right down to the water's edge ;
others are smooth, round, grassy hillocks ; and others, again,

36

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

mere heaps or cairns of stone with rock plants ^rowincy in
the clefts and crannies. The sight is a charming one — the
blue lake, the dotted isles, the beautiful white beaches with
their foaming breakers, and behind, as a background, the
green of the primeval forest on the shore.

Inside the archipelago, the coast of the mainland is fringed
with numberless tiny islets. A few are used by fishermen,
and others are naked and barren. Unfortimately, in 1907,
an outbreak of the sleeping sickness, that terrible plague
which threatened to depopulate Uganda, and did, in fact,
depopulate whole districts, made it necessary to remove
all the natives from these islands and from the lake shore,
to a place some miles inland. Those already infected, some
thousands in number, were placed in isolation camps and
hospitals where they could be properly treated. There is
one such great sleeping sickness camp at Kystume, near
Mukoni. Fortunately the disease is now fairly in hand ;
the swamps where the tsetse fly flourished are prohibited
areas, and outside these the risk is not great. But at the
outset the ravages were terrible. To take but one example :
Bukoli, one of the southern divisions of Busoga, which was
a densely populated country, rich in cattle and of singular
promise, is now all but a desert, the greater part of the
district being covered by the encroaching bush and inhabited
only by pigs, leopards and hyaenas. One Taza chief, who
could formerly muster 17,000 fighting men, has now only
105 taxpayers. Dr Koch, of enteric fever fame, went to
one of the Sesse islands to study the disease and its possible
remedies. He claimed to have found a cure in atoxyl, a
preparation of arsenic, but this claim was premature. The
subject of sleeping sickness in its relation to insect life is
dealt with in Chapter VII.

At ten o'clock we landed at the little pier of Entebbe,
the English capital of Uganda. This was established in
1893, by Sir Gerald Portal, and soon became the head-
quarters of the Government. Kampala, the native capital,
is twenty-four miles away. Passing through the usual crowd
of natives and Indians, we got into rickshaws, and were
trotted up a wide red winding road through a beautiful park

37

AFTER BIG GAME

filled with flowering shrubs and great forest trees of many
kinds. Herds of cattle were grazing everywhere. It was
very interesting to watch the tick birds fluttering fearlessly
among the beasts, perching on their backs and heads and
picking off the insects. These birds are about the size of a
gull, but rather slighter in build, and have large orange-
coloured beaks. The cattle are a cross between the humped
short-horned breed which one finds in British East Africa
and most parts of Uganda and the long-horned Ankole oxen
which come from the province to the south and belong to
the Galla breed.

We passed a few bungalows built of dried bricks and
roofed with the ubiquitous galvanised iron, also some shops
of the bungalow type, and then reached Government House.
Like all the Government Houses in this part of the world, it
is built on a hill, for obvious reasons. It commands a very
lovely view over the lake and the forests. The gardens are
particularly beautiful, and the roads are bordered with
flowering shrubs bearing masses of the most delightful
blossoms. The Botanical Gardens, too, are very fine indeed.

We were unfortunate enough to find the Governor and Lady
Jackson away from home ; and after visiting a remarkable
collection of curios which a European resident had for sale,
we returned to our steamer and resumed the voyage to
Kampala, which we reached about five o'clock. The captain
took us to the pier head and put us into a rickshaw drawn
by one boy and pushed by three, and we started on a six-
mile uphill run. The boy in front struck up a kind of mono-
tonous chant which sounded rather like a brief question
perpetually repeated, to which the three behind made answer
in chorus, with words which sounded like "Arrah Ugh!
Arrah Ugh ! " and an occasional whistle or wild cry to vary
it. The soloist changed his words from time to time, but
the chorus was always the same. The boys ran well to this
incessant accompaniment ; the road was good, broad, smooth
and red, and we progressed swiftly and comfortably enough,
save that once, when crossing the newly built railway line,
we were very nearly jolted into the mud. There were plenty
of native huts by the roadside, each surrounded by its grove

38

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

of banana-trees. The natives here practically live on
bananas, eating them raw or cooked in various ways. On
the whole, the roads are surprisingly good. There are
between two and three hundred miles of roadway specially
constructed for motor traffic by the Office of Public Works.
One of these, from Kampala to the Toro boundary, is 126
miles in length. Other roads are kept in repair by the native
chiefs as part of their obligation to the Central Power. The
Public Works Department, however, looks after all bridges,
etc.

Our present route rose steadily, at first between great
groves of bananas, with here and there a group of quaint
native beehive huts. Then came stretches of tall elephant
grass, effectively shutting off the view. Finally we emerged
from the jungle, and the hills of Kampala lay clear before us ;
for Kampala has this in common with ancient Rome, that it
is built on seven hills. Moreover, as in the case of Rome,
each hill has its distinctive features. The finest of them all
is Kampala, from which the place derives its name. This
was the first British settlement here, Captain Lugard having,
in 1890, built a fort on its summit, much to the advantage of
the European settlers during the native wars which followed.
The Government buildings have now been removed to the
larger Nakasero Hill, as not too cramped to admit of future
developments. On Mengo Hill the Kabaka, or native king
of Buganda, has his palace, and lives surrounded by his chiefs;
and here, too, the native Council assembles. The other
four hills are occupied by the various missionary bodies
which, at the cost of vast labour, great danger and immense
self-sacrifice, have undertaken the conversion of Central
Africa to Christianity and civilisation. The headquarters
of the Church Missionary Society stands on Namirembe Hill,
the mission of the White Fathers on Rubaga Hill, the Mill
Hill mission of the Roman Catholic Church on Nysambya
Hill, and that of the French Algerian Fathers on Ngambya
Hill. It is beyond the province of these " jottings by the
way " to attempt to appraise the work that has been done
by these and similar communities. But no one can visit the
native schools, and sec how the children are being uplifted by

39

AFTER BIG GAME

the heroic self-sacrifice of these devoted men and women,
without being touched with admiration, mingled with
gratitude and respect.

Like all other Central African to^Mis under British control,
Kampala is growmg rapidl5^ It possesses a number of shops,
one of them a very large store indeed for East Africa, and
several good buildings. The National Bank of India and the
Standard Bank of Africa are established in the town, and
there is an excellent golf-course on the top of the hill, whence
a glorious view is obtained. We had cool lemon drinks in
Mrs Taylor's bungalow, which is entirely enclosed in mosquito-
proof screens, and then returned to our rickshaws and our
singing boys. Darkness overtook us on our way back, but
it was not the least interesting of our experiences to run
through the tropical night to the weird chanting of the boys,
our only light being the " darkness visible " made by a single
feeble, fitful lamp hmig from the shafts. But for our warning
lamp, ineffective as it was, I am sure we should have collided
disastrously with various carts of produce which we met
being pushed uphill by bands of seven or eight natives, all
droning their monotonous chorus and apparently oblivious
of everything in the world beside. Now and again the chant
was drowned by the multitudinous croaking of frogs in the
marshes that bordered the road, a kind of bell-like chirp
that harmonised admirably with the surroundings and the
conditions of the night.

In the morning, having still a few hours to spare before
starting, we again took rickshaws and ran round the town,
taking a photo or two here, buying a calabash there, and
generally establishing a reputation for feminine curiosity by
acquiring all possible information. It is astonishing what
an appetite for information the air of Central Africa gives
one. Everything is so strange and new that one feels bound
to find out all that one can. I can only trust that our in-
formants did not take advantage of our ignorance to supply
us with the tales which are devised for the special delectation
of travellers.

At eleven we sailed for Jinja, and arrived about six, too
late to land ; so we anchored for the night just off the entrance

40

Riliiiii l";ills. Source ol' the Nile.

L^^

►iW^

^^^^^^^ ^-^m^-:- ' m

K

Kliinil ill (Joveitiiiii'iit l-'iiiiii. near Nairolji

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

to the harbour. When morning came, the reason for the
precaution was evident, for the opening to the bay lay along
a narrow channel which could certainly never have been
negotiated safely in the dark. Jinja consists of a small
grassy hill, on the top of which is a flagstaff flying the Union
Jack. Around are a few bungalows, and there is the usual
pier, with its galvanised Customs house and great stacks of
cotton bales ready for export. The few shops and the main
road are behind the hill, and the native quarter on the side.
The ground has been laid out and planted with young trees
and shrubs ; but everything looks very new, and the place
resembles a little Entebbe in the making.

The pier is the terminus of the Uganda Railway, which
connects Jinja with Namagasali, a place on the Nile sixty-two
miles away, and the first navigable point of the river. A
by-road from the pier runs round the lake-side, terminating
in a narrow muddy path. The lake here is bordered by
weirdly shaped jagged rocks and fringing islets, literally
swarming with birds of the cormorant type ; and the rocks
and adjacent islets are white with the guano deposits of
centuries. All the time the roar of water sounds in our ears
and grows louder and louder as we progress, until at last we
come out on to a ridge and find below us a vast cataract, the
outlet by which the lake disgorges itself to form the Nile.
The water flows very smoothly until the actual fall is reached,
then it breaks into sudden foam as it rushes between the
numerous rocky tree-crowned islets down to the river level
below. These are the famous Ripon Falls, the birthplace of
the Nile. The depth is not great, only about twenty feet at
most, but the volume of water is immense. It is the over-
flow of all that vast region that drains into Victoria Nyanza.
The width is about 1200 feet. The spray rises high above the
rushing waters and the sun touches it with a rainbow play
of iridescent colour. On the one hand the lake, blue, placid
and sparkling in the sun, stretches away into infinite distance,
and on the other the new-born stream winds its boisterous
way, among tiny islets and between densely wooded banks.
It is a glorious picture. One would be dull of soul who could
let it pass without dwelling for a while on its transcendent

41

AFTER BIG GAME

loveliness ; and one would be duller still to whom the sight
did not prove a charm, calling up a host of memories associ-
ated with the famous stream from the beginning of historic
time : of Moses in his ark of bulrushes, found by Pharaoh's
daughter among the reeds that fringe its banks ; of the dread
time when its waters ran blood ; of Cleopatra audaciously
resplendent in her galley at Cydnus, and of mailed Antony,
who thought the world well lost for her love ; and so on
through the ages down to modern times and those great
explorers whose names are indelibly associated with the
history of the river and of the lake which they proved to
be its source. And then, bearing in mind the wonderful
possibilities of the region through which we have passed, and
the record of what men have done and are still doing to
utilise all its wealth and exploit its resources for the benefit
of mankind, another vision rises before the mind, one in
which the ^frgosies of commerce laden with the wealth of
" Darkest Africa " shall crowd those waters, and the great
River of the Past become the great River of the Future.

We climbed down below the falls and walked for a while
along the river bank. Great fish can be seen disporting in
the waters, and sometimes even leap over the fall itself. As
we watched, two huge hippopotami raised their clumsy
heads from a neighbouring pool and stared stolidly at us with
their little piggish red-rimmed eyes.

It was hard to tear oneself away, but time, to say nothing
of the Clement Hill, wait for neither memories of the past nor
visions of the future. And so, slowly and reluctantly, we
returned on our tracks. There are amazing numbers of birds
here ; waterfowl of all kinds, gulls, divers, and here and there
a black-and-white kingfisher. Among the most interesting,
if not the prettiest, were the storks, of which there were
various kinds. The whale-headed stork is one of the most
extraordinary birds it is possible to conceive. There are
also eagles and hawks. The fish eagle is to be seen anywhere
around the lake, and the Egyptian kite is a veritable plague,
particularly near the settlements, where his attentions to
the chicken runs have made him a byword of execration.
The kestrel is a migrant, as is also the cuckoo ; and since the

42

ALONG THE UGANDA RAILWAY

one arrives just as the other leaves, it is obvious to the native
mind that the one is changed into the other. Nothing could
be clearer nor more satisfactory. All round the settlements
are to be seen flocks of the beautiful crested crane, whose
extraordinary antics during the breeding season, resembling
a marionette dance, are highly diverting. The smaller birds
are for the most part brightly coloured. Among these the
fire-finches, sun-birds, love-birds and bee-eaters are notice-
able ; but there are also tits, wagtails, larks, whydahs,
thrushes, warblers, and very many more. Among the game
birds the guinea-fowl is the chief, and is met with in great
numbers.

On our return journey in the boat we amused ourselves
by watching through a telescope many crocodiles placidly
basking and disporting themselves on the shores of the lake.
We could see them quite clearly, great ugly beasts lying
motionless as the rocks themselves, or plunging into the
water with tremendous swishes of their powerful tails. Many
natives, especially women and children, as well as cattle,
are annually seized by these pests, dragged under water,
drowned and then devoured.

Uganda is one of the most fascinating of all the African
territories, and those who have investigated its possibilities
assert that in process of time it will become the wealthiest.
It contains some of the most fertile land in the world, and
has a climate peculiarly favourable to vegetable growth.
Cotton, coffee and rubber grow wild, and the imported
varieties do admirably. There are great possibilities with
tobacco, cocoa and various fruits and vegetables. The
climate is the great drawback. There are districts where it
is not far short of perfect ; but there are others which could
by no stretch of imagination be considered as " white man's
country," and others again where it is absolutely impossible
for Europeans to live at all. In certain of these malaria
is common, the mosquitoes being an unmitigated nuisance.
Something has already been said with regard to sleeping
sickness ; but it may be concluded that for white people the
danger of this, outside the fly districts, is negligible. A
further difficulty is the dearth of native labour. This is

43

AFTER BIG GAME

particularly serious in Busoga, where the completion of the
railway from Jinja to Namagasali on the Nile has caused a
considerable influx of settlers. The question of food supply
for the workers in this region is also a serious one. There are
no great food markets, and large gangs of natives working on
plantations cannot be properly fed from the land. There
is also, in certain places, a shortage of water. But these
disadvantages apply only locally ; they are certainly by no
means general ; and equally certainly, none of them is beyond
the resources of civilisation.

44

CHAPTER 11

Mombasa

" Nor could his eye not ken
The empire of Negus to his utmost port,
Ercoco, and the less maritime kings,
Momhaza, and Quiloa, and Melind."

Milton, Paradise Lost.

The native name of Mombasa is M'vita — the place of fighting.
Its name epitomises its history. It has been for centuries
the battle-ground of warring peoples : Arabs fighting with
natives, Portuguese with natives, and Arabs with Portuguese.
It was a place of call for pirates, an entrepot for ivory
traders, and one of the great centres of the African slave
trade. Its early history is written in blood.

Vasco da Gama first brought it into touch with Western
civilisation. He landed there on that famous voyage when
he rounded the " Cape of Storms " and called it the " Cape
of Good Hope " because he felt that he was at last on the
way to the goal of European endeavour, the hope of every
navigator of his day, that India whose fabled riches had set
Europe aflame. This was in 1497. The voyage is a memor-
able one. It laid the foundation of European influence in the
East. Incidentally, too, da Gama founded Portuguese East
Africa. His fame is commemorated in the name of the
principal street in Mombasa, Vasco da Gama Street.

Many vestiges still exist of Portuguese rule in East Africa.
The chief of these is perhaps the old " Jesus " fort, which
stands by the seashore to the side of the Old Town. Accord-
ing to a tablet still in existence, it was built as far back as
1595 and rebuilt in 1035. Tradition says that Vasco da Gama
himself began it. It was the scene of many fierce struggles
between the inhabitants of the island, the native tribes
and the Arab invaders. At the close of the seventeenth

45

AFTER BIG GAME

century the Arabs, having besieged it for years, stormed its
wall and massacred all who were left of the garrison, for that
gallant band had already been far reduced by the plague.

The island of Mombasa is a coral rock standing in the
entrance to a bay, which it divides into two channels. Like
other coral islands, it has a fringing reef, and another reef
borders the mainland. Both are covered by water to a depth
of several feet at high tide, but of a few inches only at low
water, so that it is easy then to wade across. It is most
interesting to go out in calm weather on to the reef and
watch the variety of marine life in the crevices and pools of
the rocks.

Between the two reefs is the harbour, and it is hardly
necessary to say that the utmost caution is necessary in
entering it. Indeed, our boat went " dead slow." Inside
are two inlets or arms of the sea running up into the land
and forming natural havens sheltered from the sea and
invisible from the outside. That to the north is the Old
Arab Harbour, and on its island shore stands the Old Town.
It is less commodious than the other, but was more easy of
entrance in the old days, when ships had no motive power
but the wind and must take into account its prevalent direc-
tion in choosing their entrance. On the mainland, opposite
the Old Town, is Frere Town, the headquarters of the
Church Missionary Society. It is named after Sir Bartle
Frere, who foimded it in 1874, and whose work and influence
have left enduring traces on East Africa.

The southern harbour is known as Kilindini, or " place of
deep water." This is one of the most commodious havens
in the world. Certainly, with the possible exception of
Dar-es-Salaam, it is the finest on the east coast of Africa.
One of its arms. Port Reitz, is four miles long and more
than a mile across. As the terminus of the Uganda Railway,
Kilindini is certain to have an important future.

Behind the harbour the land slopes upward to the Shimba
Hills, the crest of the ridge being only a few miles inland.
The prospect from the ship is a most entrancing one. The
blue sea, the white beach, the lines of foam which mark the
reefs, the mainland with its palms, mangoes, baobabs and

46

MOMBASA

masses of flowering shrubs, the scattered white-walled houses
with their red roofs half embedded in the trees, and the dim
grey line of mountains behmd with its three peaks fancifully-
termed the " Crown of Mombasa," make a picture altogether
delightful to the voyager who has for days past seen nothing
but the monotonous prospect of the sea.

There are, to be exact, three Mombasas : there is the
Old Town, a tangle of narrow streets and quaint old-world
Arab houses; the Modern Town, with the Government Offices,
the Court House, the Treasury, the Banks, the shops and
residences of the Indian traders ; and finally the European
residential quarter, on higher ground, facing the sea, where
the tropical heat is mitigated by the cool breeze that blows
in over thousands of miles of ocean. Here are the houses of
the leading Europeans, and here stands Government House.

This is a very simple and unpretentious building, charmingly
placed on a cliff overlooking the sea. The lower part is of
white plaster, and this, with the white pillars and the little
black tower, with its flagstaff flying the Union Jack, made a
cool and delightful picture as I saw it for the first time,
surrounded by its lovely gardens of trees and flowering shrubs,
such as crotons, oleanders, frangipani and many more. I
am bound to say that the internal conditions and arrange-
ments of Government House leave much to be desired, and
that one of the first things that should be done by the
Government of the Colony is to see that its representative
here is housed in a manner suitable to his position and the
dignity of the office he fills. I think the reason may partly
be that no previous Governor had made Mombasa his home
for any length of time, most of the work of administration
being carried on from Nairobi.

But despite its inconvenience, I look back on Government
House with real affection ; for, through the kindness of Sir
Henry and Lady Belfield, it was my home in Africa for three
and a half months. When I left it once for a few days to
visit Zanzibar and German East Africa, I returned to it with
a sense of pleasure, and finally said " good-bye " to it with
real regret.

The first impression of Mombasa is one of brilliant,

47

AFTER BIG GAME

luxuriant vegetation, cocoanut-palms with tall, thin stems
and graceful spreading heads, great many-rooted mangroves,
mangoes, gaunt skeleton-like baobabs, masses of dense foliage,
flowering shrubs and interlacing creepers, scattered white
houses with bright red roofs, and purple masses of bougain-
villea. The bougainvillea is one of the chief features of
Mombasa, covering walls, clustering round pillars and hiding
the gnarled bare trunks of the great baobabs with its cluster-
ing blossoms. It is a living monument to the great French
sailor who introduced it here from America.

The second impression is that of the unmistakable odour of
Africa, an odour compounded of the scent of heated earth,
tropical flowers, the acrid smell of the hot sun on stone and
metal, and, in the Old To\mi, the reek of heated humanity
and immemorial filth.

The third is that of the heat, an overpowering, reverberat-
ing heat. It weighs down on one's head with terrific force,
rises from the soil and beats back in actual palpable waves
from every wall, patch of cement or metal. Many of the
stores and sheds are of corrugated iron, and it often requires
an effort to pass them. Midday is an impossible time for
Europeans, and even those who avoid the noon find the
climate far too relaxing for anything approaching physical
activity save in the early morning or late afternoon.

The glare reflected from the white coral roads, the white-
walled houses, the sandy shore and the surface of the sea
is almost blinding, and I found it infinitely distressing to
the eyes. Most of the Europeans wear dark glasses. But
the sunsets are unforgettable in their gorgeous harmony of
colour. And after the sunset, one may see the remarkable
and beautiful phenomenon of the zodiacal light, a luminous
patch of silvery light which stretches far above the horizon.
A similar manifestation, seen before sunrise, is known
throughout the East as the " false dawn " or, as old Omar
has it, " Dawn's left hand." It fills the sky with its shimmer-
ing radiance, then fades, and darkness comes once more, to be
succeeded after a little while by the glow that heralds the
real daAvn.

The visitor is, of course, mainly attracted by the native

48

Sir II. r. and I.iulv Bellield. Mombasa.

Guvfiniiu'iit House, Mombasa.

MOMBASA

town, with its narrow winding alley-ways. A stranger
entering it alone might wander for hours and never find his
way out of the maze. But as a rule the stranger does not
penetrate far into its mysteries ; its heat and odour are
too overpowering. They are insufferable and indescribable.
The old Arab houses, with their white walls and mysterious
interiors, are of all sizes, quaint, irregular and closely crowded,
veritable relics of the past, unchanged save for the inevitable
touch of decay which makes them still more picturesque.
Their massive doors of dark brown wood, intricately and
beautifully carved, studded with huge brass or iron nails, and
furnished with elaborately wrought metal-work hinges, are
fascinating in the extreme. The narrow streets are thronged
with natives of the East, a motley crowd of many nationali-
ties and tribes and varying degrees of civilisation : Arabs,
Swahilis, Goanese, Hindus, all in picturesque attire ; while
the white garments of a casual European, sight-seeing or on
business, lend a welcome touch of coolness to the scene.
The native market lies in the centre. Two interesting
sections are the vegetable and the fish markets, where
curious fruits and fish may on occasion be met with. There
are tiny shops, too, where the native may purchase the few
things necessary to his simple life.

The better shops in Mombasa are outside the native
quarters and are kept by Indians. Here the visitor may buy
various thing he requires, and many he does not : many
articles of native or Indian manufacture, and others by no
means faintly reminiscent of our own Birmingham. The
Indian is the recognised retail trader of the East Coast.
Goanese, who are Eurasians from the Portuguese colony of
Goa, form a Considerable proportion of these. I was amused
to note, from the inscriptions above the shop doors, how many
of the latter claimed the aristocratic name of De Sousa.
There are two large Indian shops near the club, one hard-
ware store kept by Germans and one store kept by English
people. It is, however, difiicult to procure the necessary
articles for daily use. I could not help noticing the number
of German names to be seen in Mombasa. It is evident that
the Germans were making a big attempt to capture the coast
D 49

AFTER BIG GAME

trade of East Africa. The English community is very small,
mostly business men and officials, with an occasional visitor,
a hunter or traveller, staying a day or two on his way up
to Nairobi.

There is a pleasant little club-house near the Old Fort
in Vasco da Gama Street. It has a fine view looking over
the sea. About a mile from the club, half-way along the road
to Kilindini, are grounds where cricket, football and tennis
are actively carried on in the cool of the day. The Gemians
kept, or were kept, very much to themselves. The foreigners
have their own club and their own tennis courts.

Outside the native town well-trodden paths lead to ruined
or half-ruined mosques, some of which are still used by de-
vout Mohammedans for their daily devotions. They differ far
from the idea of a mosque which one acquires from the Nearer
East. There are no beautiful domes or slender minarets with
galleries from which the muezzin calls the faithful to praj^er.
Some of them are quite plain buildings with quaint conical
towers, such as the example at the Gharry terminus. One
fine example is in Vasco da Gama Street. The Hindus, too,
have their places of worship here.

Farther on are many old tombs in an excellent state of
preservation, the monuments of mighty chiefs, great white-
washed stone sepulchres, dating back in several cases some
hundreds of years. In certain of these, tin boxes filled with
tiny handleless coffee cups are placed for the use of devout
Arabs who meet to drink coffee, smoke and offer incense in
these places sacred to the great dead. These tombs are just
outside the Old Town of Mombasa, opposite Frere Town.

At present there is but the one road across the island
from Mombasa to Kilindini, though a new one is being made.
This road leads right through the new town, and going along
it one passes the few modem buildings in the island. Among
these is the cathedral, a quite interesting edifice built to
the memory of the martyred Bishop Hannington. It is a
mixture of the European and Oriental in style, and some
of the native work, especially the detail in the interior, is
admirable in taste and execution. The Portuguese and
Goanese are, of course. Catholics ; and one of the prettiest

50

MOMBASA

edifices along the route is the monastery built by the Catholic
mission. Among other buildings in the modern town are the
Bank of India and the High Court of Justice. The tennis
courts off the Kilindini road are charmingly surrounded by
great mango-trees.

A tiny railroad runs along the Kilindini road. The rails
are about two feet apart and were originally intended for the
Uganda Railway, but proved absolutely inadequate and so
were adopted for their present use. They were laid along
the various roads past the houses of the principal inhabitants.
The cars are quaint little open trucks called gharries. Each
has a little platform on wheels, with seats holding two or
three persons in front and two behind, and the motive power
is furnished by a couple of Swahili boys, who run behind,
push on the level and jump up behind when coasting down
an incline. These inclines, by the way, are very few. There
are no hills in the island. It is astonishing how quickly these
gharry boys get over the ground. Every resident has his
private gharry, and dresses his boys, to their great delight,
in some kind of distinctive uniform ; for nothing pleases the
native mind so much as to get into an official dress, which
gives him a sense of importance.

Now, however, there are a few public gharries which can
be hired at a low rate. I understand, however, that the
rails, having become much worn, are to be lifted next year,
as they are no longer adequate to cope with the traflic. They
will probably be superseded by a regular service of motor
buses, and a characteristic feature of Mombasa life, and
one which I believe is unique, will disappear. To return
home after a dinner-party or a dance, bareheaded and
without the necessity of slipping on even an extra scarf,
through the velvety blackness of a tropical night, is peculiarly
delightful. The heavy odours that fill the air, the white
stars^ — no one in England can imagine the African stars— and
the glimmering circle of light that the little oil lamp in front
casts on the rails, make up a picture that I shall not easily
forget. I, for one, with memories of many pleasant runs,
will view the passing of the gharry with unfeigned regret.
I saw the first " resident " motor car which ever came to

51

AFTER BIG GAME

Mombasa, but before I lel't the island there were two or three
more. Apart from the gharries, there were a few rickshaws,
but no horse vehicles. Horses cannot live here ; there were,
I believe, only four in the island, and dreadful scarecrows
they were. Whether it was a result of the gharries or not.
one thing that struck me greatly in Mombasa was the
complete absence of dust. It may be that the coral soil
binds into a hard crust.

There is a most delightful walk from the old Jesus fort
along the edge of the coral cliffs to Ras Serani. Besides the
lighthouse which shows the entrance to the harbour of
Kilindini, there is here another old fort, that of Mir Ali Bey.
This personage was a famous Turkish pirate, who, after
ravaging the seas and raiding the seaports to the full of his
bent, determined to settle here and spend his declining days
in security and honourable peace. To this end, he built a
strong fort on the cliff overlooking the harbour, mounted
the cannon from his craft and prepared to enjoy existence.
But " they who live by the sword shall perish by the sword."
The avengers were speedily on his track. It may be, too,
that there was a hint of treasure stored in the vaults of the
old fort. The Portuguese storm^ed the fort, and Mir Ali Bey
paid the penalty of his crimes. This was at the close of
the sixteenth century. To-day the old fort is a picturesque
ruin of broken bastions and crumbling walls, and a few old
rusted cannon lie half concealed beneath the tangled under-
gro^vth and creepers.

Serani Point was a favourite resort of mine : it was so
delightfully peaceful. Its cool breezes and lovely view of
the mainland and of the great seas breaking in foam over the
coral bars formed a glorious contrast to the hot, tiring, noisy,
striving to^\Ti. Not far from the lighthouse is an old wreck.
It lies firmly aground ; so high, indeed, that at low tide one
may w^ade out to it. It is still attached to a huge anchor
now entirely encrusted with barnacles. Only the mere shell
of the vessel remains, and when the wind blows, it sighs and
moans through the crevices of the battered plates. Some-
times, in bad weather particularly, the sound rising above
the thimder of the seas and the rush of the wind is thrillingly

52

MOMBASA

weird, sounding through the night and above the gale Hke
the voice of some poor soul in torment. In the daytime I
often sat here, gazuig out to sea, watching the great ships
slowly gliding past the reefs, the native dhows sailing pictur-
esquely along and the little boats darting to and fro over
the blue sea, and behind all the lovely background of tall,
Avaving palms.

To a stranger the native population naturally proves
intensely interesting. At first I found extreme difficulty in
distinguishing the different tribes, but one soon acquires
a sufficient working knowledge of their various character-
istics. The Arab, of course, is the superior person here, as
along all the coast ; and if he happens to be wealthy, as he
very often is, he is a very superior person indeed. He is at
his fullest glory on festal occasions, such as the festivities
which celebrate the conclusion of the great fast of Ramadan.
This is the ninth month of the Mohammedan year, and as
the Mohammedan month is a lunar and not a calendar month,
as with us, it occurs at a different time each year. Fortun-
ately, this year it came during our visit ; and I was greatly
charmed with the decorations with which the followers of
the prophet celebrate their emancipation, and with the
gaily bedecked crowd which thronged the streets as soon as
the proclamation was made that the New INIoon had fairly
begim and that the Faithful were free. I can sec now
this crowd with its curious mingling of East and West. — •
Arabs, Swahilis, representatives of various African tribes,
and the principal Europeans in Mombasa, outside a bioscope
show. Kipling says that

" East is East and West is West,
And never the twain shall meet,''

but if ever they do meet, Mombasa will be the place.

The better-class Arab wears a long robe embroidered with
gold. This opens down the front, kimono- wise, to display a
white tunic, bound in at the waist with a gorgeous gold-
embroidered girdle in which is stuck a short, curved dagger,
the hall-mark of the well-bred Arab. Altogether he is a very
stately and imposing figure.

53

AFTER BIG GAME

The Swahili boys wear cotton vests, loin-cloths generally
of " Merikani," which is East Coast for American printed
cotton, and a sort of long white shirt. If one of them aspires
to be a great swell, this may be embroidered at the neck with
red. On his head is a scarlet tarboosh (fez) or a white cap.
He is never bareheaded. The women wear a " kanga,"
which is a square of " Merikani." often amazingly decorated,
both pattern and colouring having apparently been chosen
with a view to the most startling effect. Large patterns of
black on an orange ground, or of yellow on black, are greatly
in favour. Even under these conditions, a print, the orna-
mentation of which depended for its main effect on a highly
coloured and realistic representation of a railway train,
seemed to be unnecessarily violent. The kanga is wrapped
round the body above the breast, forming a kind of straight
petticoat. A second square of similar material is often
used shawl-wise as a covering for the head and shoulders.
It is most amusing to watch the more ambitious and wealthy
Swahili girls in their endeavour to ape the fashions of the
Arab ladies. The lower kanga is wrapped so tightly round
the legs as to give the effect of a sheath or hobble skirt of
the most extreme type ; the upper one is draped artistically
over the shoulder like a plaid ; and the whole costmue is
completed by a rather full pair of trousers of some light and
more or less diaphanous material, finished off round the ankles
by huge frills, giving a curiouslj^ Early Victorian effect.
The sight of these frills standing stiffly out over a pair of
large, bare, black feet always appealed to me as indescribably
comical. The hair is pulled out from its natural frizz and
tortured and plastered into a series of ridges running longitud-
inally from front to back. Each ridge ends in a tiny pigtail
overhanging the back of the neck. The lobes of the ears are
pierced, the holes being stretched for the reception of various
amazing ornaments, the commonest being a round disc, per-
haps two or three inches across, coloured in concentric circles.

Jewellery is to a large extent a matter of glass beads and
shells, bangles of copper, brass or silver, and coils of iron,
brass or copper wire. Indeed, I am told that the vanity of
the native girls and their partiality for copper wire has more

54

MOMBASA

than once been responsible for serious interruptions in the
telegraph service, particularly in the early days of the Victoria
Nyanza Railway. When one realises that the men found the
rail-bolts equally irresistible because of their usefulness in the
manufacture of spears, some of the difficulties of the railway
pioneers may be imagined.

One of the most interesting features of Mombasa native
life is the Ngoma. Strictly speaking, the Ngoma is a drum,
the instrument to which the natives perform their dances.
For on the East Coast, as in other parts of Africa, and possibly
in more civilised regions, the native expresses his emotions
in the dance. "Letting the steam off" was one derisive
comment 1 heard. But the term has come to mean the
dance itself, and Mombasa finds its medium for self-expression
in Ngoma. I saw it on Sunday afternoons, but I under-
stand that the great displays are generally held at night,
particularly when the moon is full. The men carry knob-
kerries and prance round in a circle ; the women, dressed in
their gayest colours, stand marking time to the rhythm of the
dance and wriggling from side to side. These demonstrations
are carried out to a wild rhythm beat out on the drum.
For a few minutes the proceedings are as interesting as they
are furious ; but the repetition of the tune and the sameness
of the movements very soon become monotonous in the
extreme, at any rate to the European spectator. As for the
natives, they carry it on for hours, until they are ready to
drop from exhaustion.

'■On with the dance, let joy be unconfined,
No rest till morn when Youth and Pleasure meet."-

It is quite a common thing to see a " boy," approaching the
limits of fatigue and streaming with perspiration, drop out
of the circle, dash to an adjacent well, and, after a thorough
sluicing with water, rush back and resume the dance.

Speaking of the wells reminds one that the great dis-
advantage of Mombasa is its lack of water-supply. It is
but a small island, and of porous coral rock. Hence there
are no springs, and the only water available for domestic
purposes consists of rain stored in tanks and the brackish

55

AFTER BIG GAME

and more or less doubtful fluid drawn from the wells. The
latter, owing to the porous nature of the coral rock, are
liable to contamination, sometimes of the most serious kind.
To avoid this as far as possible, most of them are lined with
masonry, at least in their upper portion, thus avoiding
surface contamination. The apparatus employed in drawing
water from these wells is primitive and interesting. But the
whole question is complicated by the fact that there is no
drainage of any kind, and the sanitary arrangements are most
primitive. A coolie comes twice a day, carries away the
house refuse in pails, and throws it into the sea. The native
has no idea of sanitation. I was told that the coral rock
fortunately acts as an absorbent and an antiseptic, deodoris-
ing all refuse and rendering it harmless to health. All the
better-class houses in Mombasa have underground water
tanks in which the rain-water is collected and stored. But
it is clear that if Mombasa is to become the great port of
Eastern Africa, the question of an efficient water-supply,
both for the town itself and for the calling ships, will have
to be seriously considered. An ample supply could be
obtained from the Shimba hills not far away, though at con-
siderable cost. This would meet the needs of the shipping
and of the European residents ; but from my experience of
the native, I am sure that it is too much to expect him to
pay a. rate for pure water when he can get the brackish and
possibly polluted product of the wells for nothing.

The water-carriers who draw the water from the public
wells and distribute it over the town are one of the most
interesting features of the island and as characteristic
as the gharry boys. Their stock-in-trade is primitive, con-
sisting of a couple of four-gallon kerosene tins, slung one at
each end of an eight-foot pole. The weight must be con-
siderable, as a gallon of water weighs about ten pounds.
But they run along tirelessly and cheerfully, even through
the hottest part of the day, at the same steady jog-trot, with
their cry of " Similai ! Similai ! " warning loiterers and
passers-by not to impede the progress of folk in a hurry.
Women, too, may be seen drawing water from the wells, an
Eastern fashion familiarised to us by the Scriptures, and

56

Hiirhour, Mombasa.

On Clovcrmiicnt I IdU.sr Sea Path. MoiDbasa

MOMBASA

carrying it, not as the men do, but in a single oil tin or a
picturesque native earthenware jar balanced accurately on
their heads. Some of these women are finely proportioned,
and their occupation gives them a magnificently erect car-
riage and a free swing from the hips that is both graceful and
stately. It is a pleasure to see them walk.

My life in Mombasa, while my husband was away on safari,
was very peaceful and uneventful, yet full of charm. His
Excellency the Governor and Lady Belfield omitted nothing
that might add to my comfort or enjoyment, and I received
great hospitality from the various English residents. The
Governor's secretary, Mr F. W. Brett, and his A.D.C.,
Captain B. Winthrop-Smith, although, for reasons to which I
have already referred, they did not live at Government House,
but lodged at a bungalow near by, were also unremitting
in their kindness. But except for some special occasion, one
day was very much like another : " Les jours passent et se
ressemhlenV Perhaps, however, an account of a typical
day may prove interesting.

At seven o'clock Duma, my Swahili boy, appears at my
bedside saying : " Chai [tea], mem-sahib." He has a smiling
black face, with a prodigal display of very white, perfect
teeth ; a shaven head ; and is clad in a long, thin, white
garment reaching to his ankles, open at the neck and with
wide-open sleeves. His feet are bare. The morning cup of
tea and its accompanying fruit disposed of, I rise, complete
my toilet, and go dowTi to breakfast. After breakfast, my
pleasant task is the arrangement of the flowers, with which
Lady Belfield has kindly entrusted me, instead of the Indian
gardener, whose taste in floral decoration hardly accords
with European notions. So when he comes with his arms
full of blossoms from the garden I ask him to permit me to
arrange them for him. With many salaams he expresses
himself delighted that the mem-sahib should do him so much
honour. This little comedy played, I get to work. Generally
I find I have to put on a topee and slip out into the hot sun-
shine to cut a few more blossoms for the sake of variety.
Garden flowers are few in Mombasa, and these are imported
and do not do well, so that one has to fall back for the main

57

AFTER BIG GAME

supply on the flowering shrubs. Even these, I beheve, have
mostly been introduced from India. By the time the flowers
are cut and arranged, the gharry is at the door, and we go
for a morning rmi, either to the one English shop of Mombasa
or to look in at the club and glance through the papers.

"After luncheon rest a while" is an admirable maxim
here. The siesta is an absolute necessity, for the heat is
overwhelming in the middle of the day and the glare pain-
fully distressing to the eyes. Once when I went to my
room about ten-thirty, a time when the sun is very hot, I
looked out over the verandah and saw, to my horror, what I
took to be five corpses lying face downward in various parts
of the drive. They were, however, only five of the gharry
boys, who had been unable to resist the temptation of the
slight shade afforded by the trees and had flung themselves
down to enjoy the perfect happiness of a noontide sleep.
At four or four-thirty Mombasa awakes, so far as its white
population is concerned, and the social day begins. One
goes walking, sailing, fishing, riding in gharries, while the
more energetic play badminton, tennis or cricket. Those to
whom those somewhat violent forms of exercise do not appeal
sit round under the trees and watch the games and chat.

On one occasion I remember his Excellency and Lady
Belfield wished to make an informal visit to the tennis and
cricket gromid, and they started off after tea, taking with
them Captain Winthrop-Smith, the A.D.C., and myself. The
grounds are along the road to Kilindini, and the games were
in full swing when we arrived. Three or four sets of tennis
were being played ; and we had the pleasure of watching,
from where we sat, the last game of cricket for the season.
The teams were distinctly composite. There were at least
two judges, three or four others of almost equal rank, a mis-
cellaneous assortment of oflficials and merchants, and, to
complete the eleven, a couple of Goanese. It was exceed-
ingly funny to watch these running between the wickets or
rushing about the field. Like other Indians, they wear a
long white garment in the nature of a shirt, and as this is
not tucked into the trousers European fashion, but hangs
nearly to the knees outside, it flaps about in a very comical

58

MOMBASA

fashion during violent exercise. I shall never forget that
cricket match, and its evidence of the newness of the country,
for it was impossible, that afternoon, to get an eleven com-
posed entirely of Englishmen.

The latter part of the afternoon is delightful. The declin-
ing sun has mitigated the fierceness of the noontide heat,
and the approach of evening in the tropics has always a
peculiar charm. The sunset colourings are indescribably
beautiful and the swift coming of night has a never-failing
interest. After dinner comes coffee, generally served on the
terrace when there was a moon, so that one might enjoy the
delicious softness of the air and listen to the soothing voices
of the tropical night. Then a game of cards or music, and
then " Good-night." Uneventful, as I have said, but
entirely delightful and very restful.

One charming walk after tea is to go past the lighthouse
and across the golf-course, where one gets the full breeze
from the sea, and then take a broad sandy path along the
cliffs toward Kilindini. The road is bordered by all sorts of
vegetation, huge mango-trees covered with dense foliage,
cocoanut palms and papaws with their curious bunches of
fruit. Most interesting of all are the baobabs, with their
massive trunks and leafless branches. This is locally laiown
as the " monkey bread tree," and grows to a great size, the
trunk being sometimes over a hundred feet m circumference.
The leaves appear in the rainy season only, and the sight of
the bare tangled branches with their pendulous fruit is most
weird ; they look then like skeletons of trees. Even when
they are covered with clusters of blossom like pink rhodo-
dendrons, they still have an unnatural appearance due to
the absence of leaves. Small wonder that the natives imagine
them haunted by the ghosts of the dead.

A remarkably beautiful tree is that known as the " gold
mohur tree." I am not sure that this is not the "mohwa
tree," and that the common name is not derived from the
similarity of sound between mohzva and mohur, coupled with
the ruddy gold of the flower. It is a magnificent tree, with
beautiful omcrald-green foliage and wonderful masses of
orange and red blossoms. It was ahnost the first thing to

59

AFTER BIG GAME

attract my attention, and the last to retain it. Here, and
in all the coast places I saw — Zanzibar, Dar-es-Salaam and
Tanga — it grows in profusion, a thing of beauty and a joy
for ever. It is the smile on the face of these Eastern places,
and if my description of them is inadequate, I have as my
excuse that I could never get past the smile. Here, by the
sea, the castor-oil plant is especially luxuriant and produces
a beautiful effect.

We pass the ruined bastions of an old fort, now half buried
in wild undergrowth, and then scramble down on to the shore.
At low tide the most beautiful shells, large and small and of
infinite variety of shape and colour, are to be found, and the
hollows of the coral rock are alive with crabs of the quaintest
shape and most remarkable colouring. Half-way to Kilin-
dini, we turn inland through the beautiful mango-trees, to
the tennis court, for rest and refreshment in the little club-
house. Thence, if tired, one has but to take the trolley home.

Often there were invitations from various friends for
dinner, music and so on. Now and again, too, there was
a dance. One, given by the foreign residents, I remember
particularly. It was held in their own tennis ground, covered
for the occasion with a wooden floor, and a most enjoyable
and fascinating function it proved. The day after this
dance there was a luncheon party at Government House in
honour of H.R.H. Prince Leopold of Bavaria, who, with his
son. Prince Conrad, and staff, was passing through the island,
on his way, presumably, to German East Africa for big-game
shooting. The four chief Arabs formed the most picturesque
feature of their party. In the afternoon I met the party
again, together with most of the foreign residents, at the
German Consulate, whither we had been invited for tea.
The next day about two hundred persons came to tea at
Government House. This, indeed, was quite an eventful
week. For the most part life in Mombasa was less exciting.

Our favourite recreations were sailing and fishing, and I
frequently went out on one or the other expedition. One has,
however, to be very careful if one ventures in the daytime,
as the heat is great and the glare from the water is certain to
produce a violent headache unless suitable precautions are

60

MOMBASA

taken. It is best, as a rule, to wait until after four. The
game fish here provide excellent sport. One of the best of
them is the barracouta, which can often be seen leaping ten
feet or more out of the water off Kilindini. He is a big bro%vn
fellow, often ten or twelve feet in length, and scaling up to
forty or fifty pounds, and a famous fighter, far more powerful
than a salmon of equal size. The Governor is a great fisher-
man, and always went out in a motor boat. I believe that
speed is necessary to catch some of the big fish. One day,
when I was out with him, he hooked a big fellow which
broke away after an hour's fight, and must have weighed
over fifty pounds. The koli koli is another big fish of the
mackerel tribe, probably allied to the tunny of the Mediter-
ranean and the famous tuna of North America. The
tangesi is somewhat like a pike, and may reach forty pounds
or so ; and at certain seasons of the year, between December
and March, great shoals are seen of a curious fish which local
fishermen call the dolphin fish. It calls at Mombasa on its
migration southward .

The natives are keen fishermen and have many devices for
trapping their prey. Among the first things to strike a
visitor to the seashore are the great fishing screens. These
are made of twigs and branches fastened together into a kind
of rough lattice work, and form a double wall extending out
into the water. The space between the two walls is wide on
the outside and narrow near the shore, and the fish are driven
into the wide-open end and up the constantly narrowing
funnel until they become an easy prey in the shallow water
near the shore. Curiously enough, they do not seem to think
of escaping through the meshes of the screen, which would
be quite easy. There are also great woven baskets like huge
lobster pots, six or seven feet long and three or four feet
wide. These are baited with some kind of seaweed, and sunk
in twenty or thirty feet of water near the reef. After a while
a fisherman dives down to inspect his basket. If it is full
it is pulled up, nicely balanced across the narrow canoe, and
brought ashore. The baskets are called owzis and are used
also for shellfish, such as crabs and crayfish. A great drag
net somewhat after the fashion of a seine is also used.

6i

AFTER BIG GAME

A word or two with regard to the native " boys " may be
of interest. I do not know much at first hand about their
manners, customs and habits of thought, for I was greatly
handicapped, at the outset, by my inabihty to understand
SwahiH, the lingua franca of the East Coast. My direct
knowledge is confined to my own boys, who could speak
English ; but I was fortunately in a position to learn from
others who had long and intimate acquaintance with the
natives. These native boys are, of course, one's only servants,
and each has his special duties. There is the personal boy
who acts as valet, the house boy, kitchen boy, table boy,
gardener boy, cook and gharry boy. All these are common
to the East, with the exception of the gharry boy, who is
peculiar to Mombasa. His sole duty is to keep himself
clean and smart, to do the same for his gharry and to push
the latter when required. When the gharry is not in use, he
goes home for his meals, returning to work, or, if not needed,
to sleep. As a rule, he is immensely proud of his uniform,
and looks very smart in it.

The best cooks are the Indians, of whom the Goanese
perhaps bear the palm. Everyone who can afford the luxury
has an Indian cook. Unfortunately they seem, almost with-
out exception, to be addicted to periodical outbursts of
drinking. When the time comes round the cook appears in
apologetic mood and explains that he is really very ill indeed
and must go and see his medicine man. One learns by ex-
perience the uselessness of arguing the point. He goes away
and the establishment is run without a cook for two or three
days. The Goanese cooks usually have native boys of
different ages to work under them. These are very bright
and quick, and look quite happy.

Wherever one goes the boys go too. In the train, they
travel in a special compartment reserved for natives, and
bring food, etc., when wanted ; and when the train stops at a
wayside station and the passengers dine in the " refreshment-
room," the boys unpack and make up the beds with the
blankets and pillows that have been brought. When staying
at an hotel, they see that their employer is made comfort-
able, and look after his belongings. Some, of course, are

62

MOMBASA

undesirables, but the good native boy is deserving of all credit.
As a rule, one's personal boy can be trusted to look after
one's belongings. He will not steal from his master or
mistress, and does his best to prevent anyone else from doing
so. But if he gets the chance of annexing some unconsidered
trifle, whether ornament or garment, belonging to someone
else, he is not at all likely to resist the temptation. In six
months, I only lost a silver thimble and a silk petticoat,
which is some testimony at any rate to Duma's honesty and
watchfulness. Sometimes, too, I would leave the keys of
my dressing-case or my purse or rings on the table. On
returning, I invariably found them gone ; but when Duma
appeared he would look at me reproachfully and tell me, as
if I were a naughty child, that I must not be so careless.
Then he would show me, with a great air of pride, where he
had hidden the missing articles for safety, under the mattress
or a corner of the rug.

There is a curious habit, common, I believe, to all native
boys. Yours may be with you for weeks, or even months,
but a time will come when no boy arrives with your cup of
tea in the morning. For two or three days you can hear no
word of him, and then he reappears. He has been very ill,
or his mother or his wife has been ill. You have your own
opinion, but say nothing. You recognise the uselessness
of protest. But when thus thrown on your own resources
you recognise how invaluable these boys are, and how im-
possible it is to do without them. Unfortunately, these
lapses happen very often at a time when you want the boy
most. But the habit seems incurable, and no amount of
punishment is of any avail.

He has, too, a natural gift for mendacity. I have heard
him described as a " born liar," and have never been able to
convince myself that the accusation was unjust. Further,
he is not in the least abashed by being found out, though he
does not like you to disbelieve him. My second boy " Yussif,"
who was very good and faithful, honest and even truthful as
a rule, sent my husband, after the conclusion of the trip, a
long letter, written, of course, by a scribe, telling him that
when he returned to his home he found that his house had

63

AFTER BIG GAIME

been burned to the ground, with all his belongings, blankets
and all, and that his wife and children were homeless. I felt
so sorry lor poor Yussif, until it was explained that this sort
of letter is a time-honoured institution with the safari boy
to get money, and more especially blankets, which he loves
to possess, from the " Bwana " before he leaves the country.
The boys need sympathetic treatment, and are terribly hurt,
or profess to be so, if you refuse to believe them. They like
to be chaffed. They invariably treat the new-comer as a fool,
and will take any possible advantage of his ignorance. They
are very good at reading character, and probably understand
us far better than we understand them. They are quick to
seize on any personal characteristic and to provide an appro-
priate nickname embodying it. In short, they need to be
treated as children of a larger growth, kindly but firmly,
and with an infinite patience and a real attempt to under-
stand their point of view. It is so short a time since they
were just savages.

It may be imagined that I left Mombasa with regret. On
26th December 1913, Duma and I began packing for our
journey to Victoria Nyanza. I detest packing (Duma was
entirely of my mind in this respect), and I hated the thought
of leaving Mombasa. I had gro\Mi strongly attached to the
quaint, old-world place, and everyone had been so kind. On
this last morning, it looked more lovely than ever. The
sea seemed bluer, the foam whiter, the sunshine more glorious
and the air more fragrant with the scent of frangipani,
oleander and the rest of the flowering shrubs that grow
luxuriantly on the island.

The memory of the friendship I had met with lent an added
poignancy to the parting. Fortunately I was not alone, and
the company of Lady B'elfield and Monica, who were going
by the same train, to say nothing of the attention of
the boys and the familiar frolics of Cato (the kitten) and
Monty (the lemur), all served to dispel the sadness I could not
help feeling as I said good-bye to all the friends who had come
to the station to see us off lor Nairobi. It was with difficulty,
however, that I restrained my tears.

64

Old Arab Well, Mombasa.

(Jourt House, Mombasa.

CHAPTER III

ZANZIBAR

It is ten o'clock in the morning when we get our first glimpse
of the " Gateway of Africa."

Right ahead is a lighthouse, a gleaming column'^of white
surmounting the red roof of a little house. Around are a
few scattered palms. The lighthouse stands on a little island,
a half-mile bank of coral, a tiny offshoot from the coralline
chain that guards, like a breakwater, the coast of Zinj. The
islet is densely covered with vegetation of a bright yellowish
green.

Across a narrow break of sea, another island, long and
low, lies on the water like some great sea-beast basking in
the morning sun. This is Zanzibar, and there is surely
nothmg more beautiful on earth. The sea washes in cream-
ing ripples on a sparkling beach of sand. Above this stand
low, dark cliffs of wave-worn coral, carved by the sea into
the most fantastic shapes. Above the cliffs the land slopes
very gently upward by slow gradations to the centre of the
island. The whole surface is covered with vegetation of
every conceivable tone of green, with here and there a point
of colour where the sun strikes some mass of bloom. Near
the shore are clumps of leathery palm interspersed with giant
mangoes, and where the sea runs up into the island the shore
is fringed with huge mangroves with their gnarled and
twisted roots. In the distance the dark masses of the clove
plantations form a dusky background, with an occasional
patch where the bare soil shows through the vesture of green.
There are no mountain ridges, no towering peaks, only soft,
swelling outlines. The whole island, as I have said, looks
like tlie rounded back of some leviathan rising above the
surface of the sea.

The colouring is magnificent. The sea is of the deepest

E 65

AFTER BIG GAME

blue, and the glowing sky is sapphire too, a sapphire which
the glare of the sun has robbed of none of its intensity. The
sea ripples gently to the breeze and the sun touehes the tiny
ripples with dull gold, while his rays are reflected from their
edges in diamond flashes of light.

Away in the distance is the faint line of the African coast,
dim and mysterious, a bank of grej^ suffused with purple
and rose. Sea, land and sky are lightly shrouded in a sort
of luminous haze which hides nothing but mellows every-
thing, and gives to the whole scene an air of sensuous repose,
a sort of languid charm which is peculiarly of the East. But
through the indolent peace of the morning one can feel the
whole atmosphere throbbing with the coming heat. And
this sense of latent passion and unrest is Eastern too.

Coasting the shore, the cliffs, with their fringing palms, are
in full view, and the dark masses inland resolve themselves
into trim plantations of cloves, the spicy odours from which
are clearly perceptible. Then the town comes into sight, a
bold fa9ade of houses gleaming in the sun, palaces, public
buildings, churches, mosques and dwelling-houses, white and
yellow in colour and all apparently rising out of the sea, their
roofs and the pinnacles of the minarets clear-cut in the
morning air. Chief among them are the square Palace, with
its harem, the Mission, the British Agency, the Hospital and
the Old Fort.

There are no piers or promenades. Passengers landing
in the ordinary way are brought to the shore in small boats
rowed by noisy Swahili boys, who run them right up on to the
sands, to the accompaniment of much shouting. One shudders
to think of the possibilities of a landing in rough weather.
But we are favoured people, and go on round the point to the
British Agency, where we find a private landing-stage, and
are just in time to have tea with Mr and Mrs Sinclair and
some friends. The Agency is a prominent feature of the
front. The house is new, having been built by Mr Sinclair.
It is half Arab, half French in appearance, a large white
building with an open terrace upon part of the roof. The
rooms are large but rather narrow, a feature common to
most houses here, and probably due to the fact that the

66

ZANZIBAR

stout mangrove joists are rarely procurable of any great
length.

After tea we motored across the island to Chuaka. The
road IS excellent^ — wide, smooth, white and almost dustless,
and bordered on each side by mangoes and palms. Legend
has it that a former Sultan, cruising in his yacht, was un-
fortimate enough to be wrecked here. Coming safely to
shore, he discovered, to his disgust, that there was no road
by which his august Presence might be transported to the
city in ease and comfort. Hence, with Oriental extrava-
gance, he ordered one to be made, in case, I suppose, he
should ever again be shipwrecked in the same place. How-
ever, it is a good road, being one of the few properly metalled
roads in the island, though others are being made. All
along it are ruined palaces of former sultans, charming in
their decay, each surrounded by its garden. The sultans of
Zanzibar, it seems, disdained to live in the house of their
fathers ; and each, as he came to the throne, built himself a
lordly pleasure-house, with, as befitted a comfort-loving and
much-married man, a separate building for his harem.

Hence the ruins which border the great white road, deserted
mansions whose only tenants are the creatures of the jungle
and the thick undergrowth of the tropical forest.

"They say the lion and the lizard keep
The Courts where Jamsh^d gloried and drank deep :
And Bahram, that great hunter — the wild ass
Stamps o'er his head, yet cannot break his sleep."

The most famous of these deserted palaces is Dunga, the
old residency of Sultan Seyyid Said, which is situated almost
in the centre of the island and is surrounded by lovely experi-
mental gardens. There is a magnificent approach to the
palace, the gardens are luxuriantly beautiful, and the building
and its surroundings form a lasting tribute to the taste of the
old corsair who made it his abiding place, and whose spirit,
if popular rumour may be credited, still visits it at night.
Most of these palatial ruins are haunted by the ghosts of
their former inhabitants ; at least, so every Zauzibari firmly
believes. These natives arc intensely superstitious, and

67

AFTER BIG GAME

there are many awe-inspiring stories told of haunted houses
which no native can be induced to enter at night. Indeed, so
strong and universal is the belief in the supernatural, that
even Europeans who have lived long on the island have
become imbued with superstitious beliefs, and tell stories of
spectral figures and mysterious voices seen and heard in the
darkness and stillness of the night.

The clove is the staple product of the island, which is
responsible for about seven-eighths of the world's supply.
The clove, as we see it at home, is the unexpanded bud, picked
just when turning from pink to red, and dried black in the
sun. The " shambas " or plantations cover a great part of
the cultivated portion of the island. Originally the planters
were the Arabs, and many of these still exist ; but European
enterprise and methods are rapidly supplanting them. A
tree, under Arab cultivation, will produce from two to three
pounds of cloves, but under European treatment will average
five pounds. The picking is done by women, who either
climb the tree or bend down the brandies by the aid of a
crooked stick. They get one pice, about a farthing, for a
measure called a pishi, which holds about five pounds in
weight. The staple food of the natives is cassava, which,
with rice, Indian corn and the banana, is largely cultivated.
The Arabs are extremely fond of the fruit of the durian, a
big tree almost the size of a mango ; but the odour of it is
generally quite sufficient for a European. Indeed, so pungent
and penetrating is it that one fruit brought into a house will
make every room practically uninhabitable for anyone with
a delicate sense of smell.

Leaving the cultivated part, we passed through a long
stretch of scrub, crossed the only river of the island and came
on to hard coral soil, where nothing is planted, but which is
covered with low bushes and grass. Here wild pigs are
numerous and afford great sport to the natives.

At Chuaka, on the other side of the island, there are two
delightful houses, set among cocoa-palms and looking out
over the sea. One of these is a " Rest-house," an ideal spot,
I should imagine, for a lazy holiday of basking in the sun
and gazing out over the sands and sea. When we got there

68

ZANZIBAR

the Sim was just setting, and the wonderful colouring was a
delight to the eye. A glorious green light suffused the air,
blending with the blue of the sea and the silvery sands, and
relieved by the thin fire-tipped clouds in the west. The silence
was broken only by the cry of the sea-birds and the dreamy
ripple of the water on the shore. It was wonderful in its
sense of colour and space, mystery and calm.

Under the palms near by was a tomb, a large, fiat slab,
surrounded by a wide garden bed and enclosed by a low wall.
So large was the enclosure that I thought it must be the
resting-place of some once mighty chief. It was the grave
of a little English child, a tiny babe of three months. It
was indescribably pathetic in this lonely, beautiful spot, so
far from that England of which it was part and which it would
never see.

Next morning we took rickshaws to visit the native town.
This lies behind the outer town, which is built on a sandy
spit, and is separated from the inner town by a tidal creek,
which looks as though it might profitably be drained and
reclaimed. We passed through a narrow opening, and
suddenly and unexpectedly entered a labyrinth of narrow
paved streets. It is said that the streets in these Eastern
towns are designedly narrow, in order to secure the greatest
amount of shade. Possibly this arrangement may be effec-
tive against the direct rays of the run, but one result is to
produce a hot, stifling atmosphere which almost makes one
gasp for breath. As luck would have it, rain had fallen in
the night, and there were everywhere muddy pools and many
great hollows filled with water. Every time a native
appeared wheeling his long trolley we had to step out of
the rickshaws and squeeze past him, while the rickshaw-men
retreated to the next corner to let him pass, so that our
progress was slow and not without its drawbacks.

The better-class houses arc of stone, square-built, in the
Arab fashion. One notable and delightful feature was the
number of heavy black doors of curiously carved wood, which
contrasted admirably with the white walls. Now and again
an open doorway afforded a tantalising glimpse of an interior,
and here and there a vivid mass of flame-coloured acacia

69

AFTER BIG GAME

provided a delightful splash of colour. The native huts are
of the usual mud-walled type, and are thatched with leaves
of palm. The framework is of mangrove wood, and the parts
are lashed together with coir. An antipathy to nails seems
to be characteristic of the native builder. Even the dhows
launched from the local yards are built of planks lashed
together. It is marvellous how tight and secure these tied
joints are.

The narrow streets are thronged and full of life and colour,
the garish, primary colour of the East : violent reds and
yellows, mingled with orange and purple and blue. The
crowd is cosmopolitan. Here are natives of all parts of the
world : Arabs, Swahilis, Indians, Cingalese, Portuguese, with
here and there an English or American visitor. The shouting,
hustling, bargaining, laughing and wrangling throng is
instinct with the essence of Eastern life, showy, tawdry,
sumptuous, vociferous and passionate. Here are Indian
merchants and native Africans, stately Arabs, dignified,
courteous and magijificently attired, and black women,
gorgeously draped in coloured squares, one for the shoulders
and one for the breasts downward. Their necks and arms
are bedizened with coloured beads and brass and copper
ornaments, bangles, chains and coils of wire. Foreheads
and fingers are dyed with purple. But all are in native
dress ; and taste is not offended, as elsewhere, by some
ridiculous compromise between native and European attire.
The alleys are edged with tiny shops, in each of which sits
an Indian trader placidly awaiting custom and ready to
bargain for anything in his stock. The baker may be seen
making his bread in a little clay oven, and the oilman
crushing his seeds by the same primitive means as have
been employed in the East for centuries. Mingling with the
crowd are Europeans connected with the Government or
associated with the various commercial interests of the island,
their white clothes forming a pleasing relief in the prevailing
scheme of colour.

Very interesting are the water-women who come to fill
their cans at the taps from which flows the water from the
Sultan's Spring some two or three miles away. It was old

70

ZANZIBAR

" Barghash the Builder," under whose regime the slave traffic
was finally stopped, who determined that the water-supply
to the city should be sufficient and pure, and brought it
by means of a conduit to various points in the city. To
these places the water- women repair to fill their jars and
distribute the water round the city. It is pleasant to watch
them, they seem so happy and gay ; and the fact that the
jars are empty paraffin tins only gives a quaint touch of
incongruity. They carry the cans on their heads, a custom
which explains their admirable poise and walk. Five cents
is their charge for a five-gallon tin.

The shopkeepers are mainly Indians — Parsees, Banians,
Goanese and Portuguese half-castes. Of the latter there are
a great number in the island. It is significant that most
of the retail trade in the East should have fallen into the
hands of these people. The shops are booths open to the
street, and those of the better class are full of curios, quaint
and interesting products of native art and craftsmanship,
jewellery, rugs, carpets, embroideries, brass and copper ware,
Arab chests and curiously carved specimens of wood and
ivory. These traders are bom salesmen, and exceedingly
keen at a bargain. It is highly amusing to hear them
haggling with a prospective customer who knows the ropes
and is able to meet them on their own ground. They are
fully alive to the value of their wares, or at any rate fully
realise the extent to which they can impose on the visitor's
credulity, and great bargains are rarely possible. Fortun-
ately our party was not altogether unversed in the wiles of
the East, and we escaped, if not unscathed, without serious
injury. One point may, I think, be fairly advanced on
behalf of the Zanzibar merchant. He does not, so far as I
could observe, insult the intelligence of his customer with
the ordinary pedlar's rubbish, obviously made in Germany
or Birmingham, which one meets at the regular ports of call.

The Estella market is most interesting. Here all the
produce of the island is brought, carried on the heads of its
owner and his servants. It is a model of decorum in com-
parison with the bazaar. There is little noise and excite-
ment. Each seller squats on the ground, with his basket of

71

AFTER BIG GAME

fruit or vegetables in front or spread neatly and enticingly
on the ground before him.

The old slave market was one of the great attractions of
Zanzibar that is fortunately now a thing of the past. But
it was to put down the slave trade that England went to
Zanzibar, just as English seamen in the reign of Elizabeth
went to West Africa to start it. It began with the transport
of ivory from the interior to the coast. A chief who had sold
his ivory well was asked to provide native carriers to take
it to the coast. He generally indicated some village that
had incurred his august displeasure and told the Arabs to
help themselves. The result — the surprise at night, the
massacre and all the horrible accompaniments that savagery
can lend — may be imagined. The morning saw the captives,
chained and loaded, forming a melancholy procession to the
coast. One has no wish to dwell on the horrors of the slave
chain. But when it had reached its destination, it occurred
to the dealers that not only the ivory but the chain itself
was marketable. Finally the black ivory was found to be
more valuable than white, and a regular industry sprang up
in this commodity. The slaves were brought to various parts
of the coast and then transferred in native dhows to the
market at Zanzibar. The horrors of the passage were un-
speakable. The slaves who survived were purchased by the
Arab planters to work on their " shambas." Fortunately
an end has been put to it all, and the credit of this is due to
the British Government. The abolition of the slave trade
came under Sultan Barghash, after great opposition from
the planters. A modified form of slavery, however, pre-
vailed in the plantations until a few years ago, and was only
suppressed in 1908. The Arabs declared that they would
rather let their shambas run waste than pay wages to their
former slaves. But the fact is that since the abolition of
slavery the plantations have increased in value. Improved
markets may partly account for this ; but there is no doubt
that there has been an increase in small holdings, and this
is an important fact in the situation.

The Arab dhows are among the quaintest and clumsiest
boats I have seen. They are low and narrow at the bow,

72

Street Scene, Zanzibar.

Narrow Streets of Zanzibar.

ZANZIBAR

while the broad stern mounts high out of the water. As a
rule, they have one mast with a huge triangular sail. In
spite of their ungainly appearance they are good sea boats,
and some, at least, are very fast. The smaller boats are
outriggcd canoes, dug out of a single trunk and carrying
a huge lateen sail. They look frail and top-heavy, but the
Swahili boatmen manage them with admirable skill.

Of the various inhabitants of Zanzibar, the Arabs appear
the most interesting. Their bearing is superb. One would
imagine that the ordinary things of life were far too trivial
for their notice. They are often beautifully dressed, and
live in magnificent style. They are the descendants of the
conquerors of the island, and remain its aristocracy. The
modern Zanzibar Arab has, however, little of the fiery energy
which made his forbears the terror of the coasts. A century
or so of Zanzibar, the most enervating climate on the face
of the earth, has reduced him to slothful ease. Moreover,
once established in the island he turned to the cultivation of
cloves ; and these, he found, could be cultivated with a
minimum of labour, and that minimum applied vicariously
by the kindly aid of the slaver. The Arab is still a planter,
but his task is more difficult now. He has to hire men to
work on his shambas, and to see that they do the work.
Neither task appeals to his taste. For in a land where " it
is always afternoon," where wants are few and easily gratified,
and where, consequently, there is little incentive to work, the
labour question is bound to present some difficulty. Many
of the poorer Arabs are employed as overseers on the
plantations. Europeans cannot stand the sun in Zanzibar,
Indians cannot manage the natives, and Creoles drink.

It is a great sight to see an Arab grandee solemnly perched
on the hump of his donkey parading the streets. He has
neither saddle, bit nor bridle. A collection of brightly
coloured cloths replaces the first, and a highly bedizened
headstall docs duty for bit and bridle, much, I should imagine,
to the comfort of the ass. But the Arab is kind to his beast.
Some of the donkeys are beautiful animals. They are of
the large white Muscat variety, and as valuable as a horse.
There is an inferior kind, the poor little Jivu Jivu, which is

73

AFTER BIG GAME

the ordinary beast of burden, and never attains to the
dignity of a rider, at least of any social status.

The Arab women are not seen except in the evening, when,
heavily veiled and safely escorted, they set out on their
social round. Their brightly coloured silk trousers are very
quaint, and the atmosphere of mystery engendered by their
veils adds immensely to their attraction. They wear wooden
clogs or sandals, which are left at the foot of the stair when
they enter a house. They pierce large holes in the lobe of
the ear, which they stuff with rolls of coloured paper. We saw
these ornaments exposed for sale in the bazaar. Sometimes
a silver ring replaces the roll of paper in nostril or ear, and
silver bangles are de rigueur. These, however, represent the
lady's savings bank.

Apart from the Arabs, the population consists of a mixture
of all the East African tribes, with a touch of the Asiatic.
The name given to this conglomerate is Waswahili, or, in
short, Swahili, " Wa " being a prefix denoting a people, as
in Wapemba, the people of Pemba. Swahili is a corruption
of the Arabic Sawahil, meaning the coast, so that the Swahili,
originally, at any rate, were the coastal tribes of East Africa.

Travellers differ with regard to their character. One
finds them everything that is degraded and base, another
finds certain virtues which go far to redeem them. It may
be that this arises from the fact that there are two classes, one
the agricultural class, and the other the casual class, which
lives by doing odd jobs in the towns, performing such tasks
as are commonly performed by coolie labour in the East.
Such a race, tainted as it is by the refuse of the old slave
gangs and by fugitives from justice, must undoubtedly present
undesirable characteristics. Even in England the wasters
who subsist on the fringe of casual labour are undesirable.
But speaking from personal experience, derived from daily
contact in the house and on safari, I found the Swahili, on
the whole, good-humoured, obliging, obedient and faithful.
Yet they are noisy, vain, easily influenced and hopelessly
unreliable, and their disregard for truth is absolute.

I have already referred to the climate of Zanzibar, but
may add a few salient facts with regard to it. The island as

74

ZANZIBAR

a whole is very unhealthy. It is correctly said that anyone
who stays there any length of time gets malaria. I met men,
however, who had lived in the town, or rather on its outskirts,
for many years, and who certainly seemed healthy enough.
Some among them had never had fever. So far as I could
ascertain, it is certain death for any white man to sleep in the
plantation area, where vegetation is dense and rank. Being
so near the Equator, there is little variation between the
seasons. The shade temperature averages about 80°, and
the range is from about 70° to 90° or so. But the direct
heat of the sun is terrific. Pith helmets must be worn,
cork ones are useless ; and no old stager will go abroad
without his " life-preserver," a white umbrella. The rainfall
is not excessive ; sixty inches a year is the average, though as
much as eleven inches have been known to fall in a day.
There are heavy dews at night, and they come with surprising
suddenness after sunset, since there is no twilight to cool the
air gradually. These are very dangerous to Europeans ;
not that there is anything intrinsically harmful in dew, but
the evening from four-thirty to eight is Zanzibar's playtime.
Cricket, tennis, golf, riding and boating are in full swing ;
and it is so easy, after getting heated, to sit in the cool of the
evening and contract a chill. Dinner-time is at gunfire, when
at eight o'clock a signal gun from the citadel calls the faithful
to prayer.

The healthiest part of the island is the east, which is in-
habited by a negro people of low type, who are probably the
aborigines of the island. On the west the healthiest spots
are probably two islands, strangely enough known as Prison
Island, which is used as a detention camp, and Grave Island,
used as a cemetery for sailors who have died here or at sea
within reach of this land. Another, close by, is Bat Island,
so called because in the early morning great flocks of bats fly
across to it, staying the day there and returning at night to
Zanzibar.

It was ten at night when we left the island to go back to
our steamer. The sea was perfectly calm, and looked an oily
black. The white stars were reflected in it as in a mirror,
and each of the lights on the shore made a tall shimmering

75

AFTER BIG GAME

column in the water. Under the moonhght the houses
seemed ghosthke and the pahns gained a new and wonderful
beauty. The stillness was intense. There was not a sound
to break the silence save the splash of our oars. It was a
perfect ending to a perfect visit. As I look back, it seems to
me that a day in Zanzibar is worth a month on the mainland.

And yet, as I sat entranced by the beauty of the scene, the
stories I had heard of horrible cruelty, violence and lust, and
of the terrible slave chain, would rise in my mind with a
curious insistence, as if to dispel the feeling that no place
so beautiful could harbour so much of evil. And I thought,
too, of the pioneers who had passed through this gateway into
the unknown, hunters, travellers, scientists, missioners, to
endure fatigue, privation and the dangers of the wild ; and
who had returned to it, some famous, some broken in health
and spirit, and some, like Livingstone, borne feet foremost
by the faithful boys who had brought their dead leader home
to rest among his own people.

We reached our ship and climbed on board. One final
look at this paradise of the East, and then to rest.

76

CHAPTER IV

German East Africa

I. dar-es-salaam

Creeping out of my cabin at five-thirty a.m. to get the fresh-
ness of the dawn, I watched from the extended comfort of a
deck-chair the sun struggling to force his way through the
morning clouds. Zanzibar, apparently in mid-ocean, lay a
grey streak in the distance, a streak that grew gradually
fainter as we approached the African coast. About half-past
six we were able to distinguish many little islands, and a
lighthouse striped black and white, marking the entrance
to the harbour of Dar-es-Salaam.

The lighthouse stands on the largest of these islands ; but
smaller ones, some not more than coral reefs, cluster round
it, looking to my fancy like nothing so much as a family of
maritime bears. These are but barren rocks. Behind
them are larger islets covered with trees, and clustering round
what appears to be a narrow river mouth, bordered with
glistening silver sands on which lie numbers of tiny native
boats. It is all quite commonplace, and affords no intima-
tion of the beautiful spectacle to come. At the end of the
channel there seems to lie a shallow bay. The General slows
down through the narrow opening, and suddenly we are
floating in a great inland lake. This is the famous harbour
of Dar-es-Salaam.

It is this glorious harbour, the finest on the East Coast,
liner even than Kilindini, wliich has made Dar-es-Salaam,
or " the abode of peace," into the flourishing little town
which it is to-day, and will, in time to come, make it one of
the great centres of East African commerce, one of the chief
termini by which the Great Lakes and their fertile borderlands
arc linked to the coast and to the rest of the world.

77

AFTER BIG GAME

Hitherto Bagamoyo, as the terminus of the great slave
route, had held pride of place ; but its harbour accommoda-
tion falls far short of modem needs. It is still the largest
to\Mi in German East Africa, but its glory has departed
and it is already declining towards a slipshod decrepitude.
Future travellers will view it as an interesting survival of the
" bad old times."

From the ship, Dar-es-Salaam appears to be an ideal
watering-place, so lavish has Nature been wdth her gifts.
There is the beautifully sheltered bay, surrounded by trees
and palms and bordered by a fine sandy beach ; but there is
no background of great hOls as in Mombasa. Beyond the
shore lies a broad esplanade, flanked by buildings of a type
that one certainly does not expect to find in an East African
coast town. This is the famous Harbour Street, and behind
it, in a broad semicircle, lies the town. Here, too, are
handsome public buildings and fine white-walled, red-roofed
houses, real European houses, w^hose bricks and tiles have
come straight from the Fatherland. Many are surrounded
by beautiful gardens, and there are numerous park-like ex-
panses. In its prunness and correctness and the liberal
provision of open spaces it reminds one rather of an English
garden city than of a coast town in the East. The Governor's
residence, the Government buildings, the Fort, the Mission
House and the offices of the German East African Company
all strike the eye. The church, too, is a prominent detail,
^vith its glaring red roof and its stucco steeple. Near it is the
Custom House, close to the harbour, and in the distance a
curious stack-like openwork erection of iron, like a miniature
Eiffel Tower, which is the wireless station.

There are clumps of palms everywhere, and all that luxuri-
ance of tropical vegetation which is characteristic of the
coast belt. On the waters of the harbour the white sails of
the yachts and other sailing boats contrast with the red-
brown triangles of the native dhows, and the busy little
launches which flit here and there give a strong touch of
animation to a charming scene.

The town is certainly better built than any other on the
East Coast, and is very Continental in appearance. With

78

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

its correct buildings, its broad streets bordered with avenues
of the beautiful flowering golden mohur-tree, its shops, its
cafes and biergarten, it looks more like a German " bad "
than an African settlement. Many of the houses look strong
enough to stand a siege. I could not help noticing the differ-
ence between them and those in Mombasa and Kilindini,
where many of the buildings have the air of having been run
up in a hurry. There are good shops and commodious clubs,
and three or four prominent statues of the Kaiser. Bismarck
and other German celebrities.

For this reason the strong native interest, that flavour
of the immemorial East, which is so fascinating in Mombasa
and in Zanzibar, is here entirely lacking. There is indeed a
native quarter, but it is modem. We drove through it in
our rickshaws with Mr King, the British Vice-Consul, and the
only Englishman in Dar-es- Salaam, who kindly acted as our
guide. These quarters lie to the back of the town, and
afford a convincing example of the thoroughness of the
German system and of the seriousness with which they regard
their work of colonisation. The streets are neat and tidily
laid out, and immaculately clean. Each native house has a
galvanised iron tub with a lid, to hold the domestic refuse ;
and this in Africa! One might as well have been in an
English to\vn under the rule of a too-zealous sanitary
authority. True, there was no smell ; but one felt that some-
thing was lacking on the score of congruity. The houses are
one-storied and built of mud and wattle. Frames of trellis-
work are made by lashing strips of wood together ; a pair
of these is set firmly in the earth about six inches apart, and
the space between the two, as well as the interstices of the
lattice, is filled with clay. This forms one wall. Three
others are made in similar fashion, and the whole is lashed
firmly together at the corners. The roof is a thatch of palm
leaves. Some of these houses are whitewashed — again I
can see the hand of the Fatherland— others are even painted.
Most of them have in front a sort of stocp or verandah, either
of beaten earth or, where there arc greater pretensions, of
stone. The furniture, as one might imagine, is not over-
elaborate. The piece de resistance is the bed, kitanda in the

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AFTER BIG GAME

vernacular, a framework standing eighteen inches or so above
the level of the floor. In its structure, as in all native car-
pentry, nails are unknown, the various parts being lashed
together, and very firmly too, with strands of cocoanut fibre.
The bed is often found in the daytime outside the house, in
the verandah if there is one, and on it the lord of the establish-
ment may be seen enjoying that dolce far niente which is the
East African native's ideal of an earthly paradise. Those
who have not risen to the height of a bed, perforce content
themselves with mats. The natives are very skilful in
weaving these, and I saw some quite beautiful specimens.
The domestic utensils usually include a rough wooden mortar
for crushing corn, a half cocoanut shell to serve as a dipper,
and a hotch-potch of such empty tins and bottles as normally
form the refuse of a European kitchen. In the houses of the
wealthier natives, or of those who have enjoyed favourable
opportunities for the acquisition of such wealth, European
earthenware and enamelled goods may be found displacing
the clay vessels of the native potter.

We found the sun very hot and the native quarter, in spite
of, or because of, the evidences of Teutonic influence, not
particularly interesting, and at noon we returned to our
steamer.

At four o'clock we went on shore again to take tea with
the Governor. This time we landed at the private pier,
where rickshaws were waiting to take us up through the
beautiful grounds to Government House. The gardens are
very lovely, and contain many fine foreign and native trees, as
well as experimental beds where all sorts of plants are being
reared on trial. The house is a large two-storied building
with an overhanging roof. Around it is a great two-storied
verandah, its double tier of white pillars and arches giving
it quite an Oriental appearance — Indian, with something of
the Moorish too. Smartly dressed native servants ushered
us through a spacious hall, richly carpeted, to the upper
verandah, where, to get the benefit of the cool sea-breeze, tea
was laid. Here we were received by his Excellency Herr
Dr Schnee and his cousin, Friiulein Schnee. The Governor
was a young man with a kind, thoughtful face and courteous

80

Dar-es-Siilaam.

Niitivc Stri'ct ill Dar-fs-Siilaain.

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

manner. Both he and his cousin spoke Enghsh admirably,
and we had a very interesting chat.

After tea Miss Schnee took us for a drive in an open carriage
drawn by a beautiful pair of horses, groomed to perfection,
and driven by a red-turbaned, red-sashed Indian coachman.
The scenery was not particularly interesting, the country
being flat, with the usual alternation of long grass, short
burnt off grass and shrub. There were a few large trees,
mangoes, native huts and shambas. The roads are admirably
made, and form another striking testimony to German
thoroughness. Indeed one cannot help wondering how they
managed to achieve so much in so short a time, con-
trasting their business-like methods and patient industry
with the more deliberate methods of Englishmen in the
tropics.

In the evening Mr King called for us at the ship and took
us ashore to dinner at the German club. The club was
crowded, and very hot in spite of the fact that the whole
place was open to the air. There were a couple of dozen
German ladies there, but we were the only English people.
The ship's band played during dinner with Teutonic zeal and
deafening effect. It was a good band of its kind, but thorough.
After dinner the tables were cleared away for dancing, but
it was far too hot for any but the more enthusiastic souls.
We sat in the garden and were introduced to many of the
principal inhabitants.

Next day we lunched with the Governor and his wife, who
turned out to be not a German but a native of New Zealand.
There were several other guests. I had the pleasure of sitting
on his Excellency's left, and enjoyed not only an admirably
served luncheon but an extremely interesting conversation.
This was continued later over coffee in the verandah, and
renewed on board ship, for the Governor and his wife were
fellow-passengers with us as far as Tanga, whence they were
starting on safari.

Whatever may be the outcome of the war, there is no
doubt that Ciermany had a future before her in East Africa.
Of that Dar-es-Salaam is eloquent testimony. Her admini-
stration was cfTicient ; the zeal for health and sanitation
F 8i

AFTER BIG GAME

admirable ; her pursuit of scientific research energetic.
Germans build well, make good roads, maintain law and
order, and are keen to recognise and to utilise all the possi-
bilities of the country. Yet they do not appear to succeed
as Englishmen have done. Possibly it is, as I have heard
it said, that there is not the same sense of justice and fine
consideration between German and native, as between two
Germans, and that it is the Englishman's tolerance, kindli-
ness and sense of justice, as well as the ability and intuition
which come from years of experience, which account for his
success with the native races.

In East Africa Germany certainly had every reason for
satisfaction with her progress. Late in the field to begin,
she made extraordinary strides in the time at her disposal.
She had, so far, hardly achieved Bismarck's idea of establish-
ing settlement colonies to take the surplus population, rather
than plantation colonies. Yet in 1913, the year of our visit,
her East African colony had a German population of 5336.
This was, of course, not a great number in a country where
the natives number some seven or eight millions, but it was
rapidly increasing.

The European plantations cover about a quarter of a
million acres. Among the most promising industries is the
growing of sisal. Fibre to the extent of £375,000 was ex-
ported in 1912, and the product in the following year was far
greater in quantity as well as finer in quality. Yet it is only
about twenty years since the first trial plants were brought
from South America. Rubber also is an important crop,
and indeed was the most important until the fall in prices
gave it a severe shock. Native labour is difficult to obtain,
except by importing men from the interior, and the cost of
transporting them is between two and three pounds per
head. This is a considerable addition to a wage which works
out at about sixteen shillings a month. Some of the big
plantations consequently run half-staffed, so that the trees
are not properly tapped. Others have gone in for more
remunerative crops. Many small shambas still manage to
exist by picking up the few hands they require on the spot.
I was informed that rubber in German East Africa had proved

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GERMAN EAST AFRICA

quite a failure, and the unhealthy condition of the trees I
saw quite bore out this statement.

Great efforts had been made to cultivate cotton, but, so
far, with little success. This is the more surprising as there
are several varieties of wild cotton which seem to do very
well here. Coffee was more hopeful, but the first cost of this
crop is great, so that the future prospect may be better than
the present result. The natives grow great quantities of
pea-nuts and make a good deal of copra ; and as there are
about a million acres of cocoanut-palm there are certain
possibilities in this direction. Also, like the Kikuyu in British
East Africa, they collect honey and wax from the wild bees.
Each of these three native products was being exported to
a value of about £50,000 annually, coffee and cotton being
each about twice this amount.

There is no doubt that there are immense agricultural
possibilities in the country ; and if the progress had been
slower than was anticipated, this was partly due to certain
abuses of early administration, which not only alienated the
natives on the spot but disgusted the advocates of colonial
expansion at home. The regime of Herr Dernberg did much
to remedy this, and to set matters on a firm progressive basis.
The Bantu tribes are natural farmers ; and the Coast tribes,
who had hitherto taken to agriculture only as a last resource
when trading and fishing failed, are coming into line, as the
flourishing shambas of the coastal areas testify. Among
the minor products are maize, manioc, sesame, beans, rice,
tomatoes, and various fruits. Tobacco is extensively culti-
vated. The growth is rank, and as the process of manu-
facture is crude, its " offence is also rank and smells to
heaven." But your East African native has few niceties
either of taste or smell.

The domestic animals arc few. Hornless or long-eared
goats, a few sheep, ducks and poultry make up the sum.
Mangy and more or less unattached dogs roam everywhere.
They are by no means beautiful, but arc tolerated in a country
where scavengers are few. Fortunately they seem to have
lost their bark ; and, except when pressed by hunger or
tormented by pain, the native dog is dumb.

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AFTER BIG GAME

The industrial arts are, of course, in their infancy, but
some of the coast tribes are expert metal workers. Iron and
silver are the metals chiefly employed ; and if we make
allowance for the native standards of art, and for the con-
ventional patterns, the results achieved are excellent. Silver-
ware, curiously chased, and silver inlaid work, are surprisingly
good. Probably these craftsmen learned their art originally
from the Arabs of Zanzibar, Mombasa and Lamu. Wood-
carving, too, is quaint and interesting ; and the native artist
finds self-expression in the ornamentation of boxes, sticks,
ivory, and in the elaborately carved doors of which one sees
such delightful examples in the old Arab quarters in Zanzibar
and Mombasa. The weaving of mats is another industry
often displaying talent of a high order, some of the tribes,
notably those around Kilwa, producing beautiful work.
This is largely in the hands of the women, as is also the
manufacture of rope and the weaving of baskets and fishing-
nets. Native masonry and carpentry are of a primitive type.

Dr Dernberg's great work was the expedition of the
Tanganyika Railway. When he took office, in 1907, scarcely
a hundred miles had been completed, the line reaching only
as far as Morogoro. Under his vigorous handling the scheme
took a new lease of life, and the road was rapidly pushed
forward to Taboro, and thence toward the lake. At the time
of our visit (November, 1913) it was within an ace of com-
pletion. As a matter of fact Tanganyika was reached on
1st February 1914, when the line touched the shore at Kigomo,
near Ujiji, the spot where Stanley, after his arduous quest,
stepped forward to meet a solitary white man with the historic
words : " Dr Livingstone, I believe."

The construction of this line was a remarkable achieve-
ment, and was characteristic of German methods, commerce
and strategy going hand in hand. If German East Africa
could have linked up with the central waterways, in advance
of the Congo railroads also under construction, she would
inevitably have secured great strategic and economic ad-
vantage. Hence the race to the lakes ; and although
Germany failed in this particular, the line is certain to have
an enormous influence in the future development of the

84

View from Tnnpa Piiiilwtiv

n"viin fi^ '^Nif^-- ^ » '^

I'p coiintiy 1 11)111 Tiiii|.';i

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

region. Another railroad was also built, running from
Tanga toward the slopes of Kilinia Njaro, through a rich and
fertile area capable of infinite development.

II. TANGA

Tanga from the sea is delightful. The little town is set
in the midst of a mighty grove of cocoanuts, which seem to
flourish here with a luxuriance exceptional even for this
coast. In some ways it is not unlike Kilindini, but the soil
is redder, and one misses the silver sands. But there are the
same low coral cliffs with their fantastic outlines, the same
dense verdure and the same white-walled and red-roofed
houses dotted among the trees. The first building to catch
the eye is the large, airy two-storied hospital. It stands on
a promontory facing the sea, so that the inmates have the
advantages of the cool breezes as well as a beautiful view,
which includes a delightful little island in the centre of the
bay. Like most important official buildings in the colony,
it is solid and substantial, and is conceived in the best (or
worst) style of modern German municipal architecture. It
is, however, excellently planned and managed, again in the
best German style, and is an undoubted boon not only to
Tanga itself but to the whole district.

We dropped anchor just opposite the charming little island
I have mentioned, and no sooner had we done so than little
rowing boats began to put off from the shore. They were
manned by Swahilis, as we had expected, but these Swahilis
were arrayed and disciplined to German rule. Each wore a
kind of uniform of khaki, surmounted by a red fez. Each
had his number, and so had each boat. Evidently they
were duly and officially licensed.

The wharf has iron-covered sheds and storehouses, filled
with bales and boxes of the produce from the interior of
the colony awaiting export. The amount seemed far less
than at Kilindini, and there was little of the bustle and
liveliness which mark the latter place. Everything, how-
ever, is exceedingly neat and tidy. Trolley lines run right
on to the wharf.

85

AFTER BIG GAME

The town is a small one, but is strikingly clean and orderly.
The streets are broad avenues with beautiful gold mohur-
trees on each side. Trolley lines run along them as in
Mombasa ; but here no passengers are carried, and the rails
are merely for the trucks of produce going to the wharf.
There is not the same necessity for a passenger service here
as in IMombasa, for the latter is in the fly belt, so that draught
animals cannot be depended on. We walked up a steep little
hill with a very broad pavement on one side, the stones of
which were engraved — a detail that struck me as somewhat
over-elaborate. On the top was a line of rickshaws, and in
these we proceeded to make a tour of the little town. There
are four or five streets with native and Indian shops, and
several side streets, all planned and laid out with mathematical
correctness, with name-boards and avenues of trees. In
some of them were cafes or beer-gardens with their verandahs
filled with little tables, where contented Germans sat placidly
smoking and quaffing huge glasses of beer. The residents'
houses are neat and small, mostly two-storied, with verandahs,
and enclosed in tiny gardens. Some of the streets have as
yet no houses, but these are paved, named and planted with
the same attention to detail as is evident throughout the
colony. There are two good hotels. The Kaiserhof is a
large white house with green shutters, deep balconies and an
open restaurant and cafe — a welcome feature in this climate.
The Grand is also good ; a balcony extends along the whole
of the front, and the little tables on it, with their blue and
white tablecloths, looked delightfully cool and inviting.
These hotels were far better than any in Mombasa. The
rooms were clean and furnished with comfortable wicker
chairs, while the floors were covered with clean straw matting.

There is a fine park in Tanga, which is used as a recreation
ground, and a nine-hole golf course, which was laid out by
Mr King, the British Consul at Dar-es-Salaam. Another
great attraction is the band, which is justly famous through-
out East Africa. The market is like most native markets,
except that the greater part of the trade is done by the natives
themselves, and not by Indian traders. The meat, blackened
by the sim, is unpleasant both to sight and smell. The fruit

86

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

and vegetables, on the other hand, were of admirable
quality.

The native quarter affords a picturesque contrast to the
European town. Brick and stone disappear, and mud and
wattle take their place as building material. There are the
same broad clean roads ; but we miss the wide pavements
of the civilised part, while the traffic is often impeded by the
cocoanut-palms, which are apparently allowed to grow
up where they will, sometimes singly, sometimes in groups,
on the sides and even in the middle of the roads, in a manner
which would shatter the nerves of a London cabman and
wliich keeps the native rickshaw boy constantly on the alert
to avoid danger. But the tall palms growing round the
native huts seem to droop over them benignly, throwing a
kindly shade in the heat of the day.

If the natives are not yet converted to German method,
order and cleanliness, they seem at least to share in the
general contentment. Their principal occupation appears
to be to sit in the shade outside their shops and huts, while
the goat-like sheep wander in and about the premises at will.
The Swahilis look very cheerful and happy, and there is
a ready greeting of " Jambo " for every passer-by. The
busiest person we saw was the native tailor, who sat outside
his shop and plied his craft with the aid of an up-to-date
American sewing-machine.

Tanga possesses a fine native school, where the pupils
receive technical as well as general education, such trades as
typing, printing and furniture-making being taught. There
is also a native hotel, whose proprietor sits all day on his
verandah surrounded by a flock of rainbow-coloured ducks.

The dusk was creeping on as we made our way to the pier,
and by the time we were fairly embarked it was quite dark.
We returned, as we came, in a little rowing boat. The rudder
was broken and worse than useless, and the boat steered very
badly, with the result that when about half-way out we ran
on to a sandbank. However, by dint of vigorous pushing,
and no less vigorous shouting, we managed to get off again
without damage. The Swahili boatman carries his lantern
in the bottom of his boat, and the light thrown upwards into

87

AFTER BIG GAME

the faces of the passengers and crew illumines them with a
weird but picturesque effect. After twice nearly colliding
with other boats, we arrived safely on board the General,
where we were told that the captain had arranged an expedi-
tion up country for us, and that we were to start at seven-
thirty the next morning.

Accordingly some twenty passengers, including Monie and
myself, left the ship in the launch, Usagara II., and landed
at the wharf, where we found our special train waiting. We
shared a carriage with Mr and Mrs Liebermann, Mr and Mrs
Armstead, and an elderly German lady who chattered in-
cessantly all the way from the beginning of the journey to the
bitter end. After crossing several wide roads, and traversing
the native quarter, the line runs through scenery of extra-
ordinary richness and beauty. Tall trees of every kind rose
from an undergrowth in which almost every kind of tropical
plant grew luxuriantly. Cultivation seemed so far to be con-
fined to the cocoanut-palm, of which we passed grove after
grove on either side. On the right an immense plantation
had recently been cleared by a European, but lack of capital
had handicapped the work, and the clearing was already in
danger of being overgrown by the jungle.

All this time we had been rising steadily. The forest was
no longer universal, and signs of ordered cultivation appeared
on every side. Among the first plantations we saw were
those belonging to an Indian settlement founded by Herr
Meyer. These Indian settlers have a large number of solidly
constructed farm buildings and wells, for the most part
shaded by mango-trees. The carts are drawn by hump-
backed oxen, and here and there one may see a primitive
Indian plough scratching its furrows on the African soil.
Luckily the soil here is virgin, so that thoroughness of cultiva-
tion is not a matter of great moment. After these farms
we passed many miles of country covered with sisal, and then
many other miles planted with rubber, chiefly the Ceara
variety, which is hardier and more rapidly productive than
the Para kind. On these two crops the prosperity of German
East Africa was originally founded.

As we rose ever higher the plantations in their turn dis-

ExpiMiiiu'iit il CiardiMis, up couutiy IVdin Tallin

I'atiaiKi Ti('r~-. ii|i ((iiiiilrv liniii 'l"aii;,'a.

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

appeared, giving place to a grand park-like country, a fertile,
well-watered land of broad plains and undulating hills,
covered with luxuriant grasses, scattered copses and occasional
big trees, with, in the distance, the dim outlines of mighty
mountains. From time to time we saw little native villages,
usually perched on the top of a knoll and surrounded by palm-
trees. Around them were patches of cultivated ground,
remarkable rather for the variety of their crops than for the
method of their cultivation. Scientific agriculture seems to
be beyond the range of the native intellect. His sole aim in
tilling the soil is to provide food for the moment ; he has no
notion of raising crops that have to be transported to distant
markets and converted into money before he can derive any
benefit from them.

All the stations on the line were designed with character-
istic German thoroughness and care. All were beautifully
tidy and well cared for, and the more important places were
furnished with that indispensable adjunct of civilised travel —
the refreshment-room. The first station out from Tanga is
Muhesa, in the centre of the rubber-growing district. Here
there is a large covered shelter, furnished in the Continental
style with tables covered with red and white tablecloths,
comfortable chairs and equally comfortable Germans,
imbibing beer from huge tankards. On the other side of the
line stood a small crowd of native men, women and children,
all mightily interested in the doings of the white men, and
especially, as it seemed, in their eating and drinking, though
as a rule the native prefers his home-brewed pembe to the
choicest products of Munich and Pilsen.

After three hours in the train we arrived at Tengini, where
a small train used for rubber-carrying was to take us on.
No train, however, was visible when we arrived, and we
learned that there were grave doubts as to whether it would
turn up at all, as the native boy who had been sent with the
letter commanding it had refused to go because of a rumour
that lions had been seen prowling in the neighbourhood.
However, after we had grilled for some time in the noonday
sun, a train of small trucks arrived in charge of a quaint, fussy
little engine. We packed ourselves into one of the trucks,

89

AFTER BIG GAME

and with a vast amount of puffing and snorting our engine
got under way. It was a wonderful little line from the point
of view of scenery. Hill and valley, river and mountain,
precipice, peak and ravine — every phase of nature was pre-
sented in all its primitive grandeur, and in and out among
them all the tiny train wound its tortuous way. On each
side dense tangled undergrowth grew in reckless profusion,
and above the jungle towered great forest trees. Ever and
anon we emerged from the forest to catch a glimpse of lofty
mountains, tree-clad to their very tops, which pierced the
little white fleecy clouds in a seeming attempt to reach the
blue sky above. Then we plunged again into the shrubs and
ferns of the jungle. Great creepers hung in festoons from
the branches of the trees, and even violated the sanctity of
the bright new telegraph wires that run from tree to tree.
The journey lasted for five hours, and then, with a screech,
the train ran into a charming highland station. A neat
wooden bungalow stood beside the line, surrounded with
green trees and gay with flowers — a little piece of Switzerland
in the tropics. Below us, in a large open shed, native work-
men, with their white overseers, were busy at a sawTnill. A
waterwheel was driven by a mountain stream, and here, in
the heart of savage Africa, great forest trees were being sawn
up to make furniture for the German colonists.

We picnicked in the shade of the trees, and then walked
up the river bank by a wide pathway edged with bamboos.
The mountains rose precipitously from the water's edge,
and their jungle-clad slopes towered over us on each side.
The variety of trees, palms and ferns was too bewildering to
permit of close inspection, and all one could do was to admire
the general loveliness of the scene. The path goes right up to
a farm one thousand feet higher ; but our time was short and
our limbs were tired, so we did not risk the ascent, but after
a short rest by the rocky torrent returned to the station and
our little train. The journey back was uneventful, except
that we saw a native hut on fire surrounded by a crowd of
excited natives, who shouted and waved their hands as the
flames leaped into the air. The carriage was very hot and
stuffy, so Monie and I went out on to the little platform at the

90

GERMAN EAST AFRICA

end, where the air was dehghtfully cool b}^ comparison.
Here we sat with our legs dangling over the side, watching the
stars and the weird outlines of the trees as we sped by, until
we once more reached the terminus and returned to Tanga
and civilisation.

91

PART IL— HUNTING EXPERIENCES

CHAPTER V

On Safari
i. introductory

Camp life has a charm which the confirmed townsman will
possibly fail to appreciate. He will have to live in all sorts
of unaccustomed and uncomfortable ways, do without most
of the things which seem to him to make life worth living,
face the prospect of hunger and thirst, fatigue and physical
discomfort, brave all sorts of dangers, and put up with a
thousand minor inconveniences and worries. In short, he
will have to rough it. And in Africa " roughing it " means
roughing it, whatever care is expended on the preliminary
arrangements. Therefore the novice who contemplates going
on trek in the Dark Continent will do well to take careful
stock beforehand, consider what he proposes to do, and then
take the advice of someone who knows as to how he should
do it. This is particularly necessary with regard to his kit
and the mode of transporting it. The outfit which is just the
thing for America, or even India, will not do for Africa. There
the traveller has so much to put up with of necessity that he
docs not want in any way to add to his burdens. What with
the heat, the thorns, the infernal activities of the insect world,
the fatigue of ploughing through endless miles of scrub, the
bad water and indifferent food, the risk of sunstroke and the
chance of fever, it is not desirable for him to reduce his
staying power by too much roughing it. If he does so he is
either a novice or a fool, and is likely to pay the penalty.
A man who desires to keep fit and to get the most out of his
trip must pay the closest attention to his outfit, and take
care that there is nothing lacking which may under certain

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AFTER BIG GAME

circumstances become necessary. Roughing it is very well
in the abstract, and sounds easy enough when suggested from
the depths of a club arm-chair, but on the spot it assumes
another aspect. This is, of course, not intended to frighten
anyone. It certainly won't frighten the right sort of man.
To him the pleasures of the free outdoor life are more than
sufficient to compensate for any inconvenience or discomfort
to which he may be put. And the pleasure is there. There
is no doubt about that. The charm of the wild is powerful
enough to make a man who has once felt it find that there is
something lacking in city life for the rest of his days. When a
man has spent, as I have done, a great part of his life in places
remote from civilisation, among wild beasts and savage
peoples, he is bound to find himself, now and again, hankering
after the old free life. That is the " call of the wild."

There is a yet stronger appeal to the sportsman— the big
game. One who has once tried big-game shooting is apt to
find most other forms of sport fairly tame in comparison.
There is nothing in the world more stimulating and brimful
of excitement than to pit oneself against the great wild
creatures., to match one's wits against their instincts, to play
off the hunter's craft against the beasts' cunning, and to
stand up to their charge, knowing as one does that a mis-
take or mishap, a momentary failure of nerve, hand or eye,
will bring its inevitable penalty — probably mutilation and
possibly death.

There is also a wonderful variety of interest. Each
creature of the wild has its own ways, some due to instinct,
and common to its kind, others due to idiosyncrasy and
peculiar to itself. Experience and advice may teach one to
meet the former, but careful observation alone will enable
one to circimivent the latter. Every fresh beast that is
roused thus provides a different problem, and so the interest
is kept alive and the faculties alert. Again, there is oppor-
tunity for skill in picking up the spoor, in reading the message
it carries for the trained eye, in tracking it over all sorts of
ground, and finally, for nerve in following it home and
meeting the quarry face to face. In a word, there is the whole
pleasure of the cliase in its finest form. And there is the

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ON SAFARI

reward ; the satisfaction that comes to the good sportsman
when, having passed by a hundred possible shots because the
beasts did not appear to reach his standard, and having held
his hand through the whole of a long tantalising day, he
happens at the end to come upon a splendid specimen, and
a skilful shot makes him the possessor of a record " head."

Even on a blank day, however, there is no room for
dullness. One sees the country — sometimes, indeed, too
much of it — and is on the qui vive all the time. Danger or
opportunity may lurk behind any bush, in any coppice or
tuft of grass. It is astonishing how little cover is needed
to provide effective hiding for even the biggest beast. The
rhinoceros is particularly skilful in effacing himself in this
way. And a rhino, appearing suddenly from nowhere, and
charging down on one from a distance, is exciting enough to
relieve the monotony of even the dullest day. So one marches
with senses strung to the highest pitch, eye keen, hearing
alert to every unexpected sound. Every unusually shaped
tuft of grass, every strange patch of colour, every breaking
twig receives due share of attention, together with the flight
of the birds and the behaviour of the smaller game. Oh no ;
it is not dull ! At first one is so strung up as to be oblivious
of the flight of time until fatigue or hunger intervenes and
tells of the strain that has been felt. In course of time
this watchfulness becomes a habit, and all the indications of
the trail are noted unconsciously. Then it is possible to
become interested in the thousand and one features of the
country, and in the absorbing variety of animal and vegetable
life.

When in sight of game there is ample opportunity for
testing the travellers' talcs and the weird theories one hears
and reads, the tales and theories which form the subject of
endless discussion in all places where men who have been
out after big game meet together. One can find out at first
hand whether the lion is really as cowardly a beast as many
have asserted ; whether the rhino is truly a ferocious ruffian
whose horn is exalted against everything that comes across
his path, or whether he is, on the contrary, a mild survival
of prehistoric time whose only wish is to be left alone. There

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AFTER BIG GAME

may even be an opportunity of testing whether a Hon can
really jump a six-foot fence, carrying an ox in his jaws as a
cat does a mouse, or whether the fiercest beast will quail
before the glance of the human eye. Personally, I have
never been tempted to try this last experiment. I have
always been content with gazing at charging lions, rhino and
the like, over the sights of a good reliable rifle. I then know
where I am and to what I can trust. And finally, a real
enthusiast might try for himself whether being mauled by
a lion is such a dreamy and on the whole rather pleasant
experience as Dr Livingstone and one or two others have
claimed. He will, in all probability, get his opportunity.

Not the least of the delights of the day is the ending of
it : the return to camp, the hot bath that charms away
fatigue, the savoury meal (what an appetite one has for
it !) and the evening smoke in the doorway of the tent. The
camp fires blaze cheerfully, the boys squat singing and
working or playing round the fire or move to and fro in the
glow, and the white stars shine against the blackness of the
sky with a brilliancy unknown in England. It is a very
pretty picture, and very soothing after a day's exertion.
Then the guard fires are lit, the watch is set, and the chatter
dies. Only the voices of the night remain — the deep, steady
undertone of the insect chorus, the twittering of birds, the
laughter of hyaenas, the barking of deer, the neighing of zebra,
and perhaps the chattering of monkeys. And sometimes,
over all, the distant roar of a lion comes rolling along the
ground, and the minor voices are stilled. The hush after
the lion has spoken is one of the most striking experiences
of the wild. The beasts have heard the voice of their lord.
At last you call " Good-night," and so to bed ; and then, if
the inner guard against the "terror that flieth by night,"
the mosquito, has been well and truly set, you sleep the
sound refreshing sleep that comes from healthy weariness.

Of course the man who is deaf to the call of the wild will
fail to appreciate the charm. He will be chiefly concerned
with the discomforts of the way, and will find enough to
dwell upon. I have already referred to some of these. There
is sometimes fatigue of the most intolerable kind, when it

96

On the March.

Till' SMl'iiri ill f':iiiii'

ON SAFARI

becomes a positive torture to put one foot before another,
and only an extreme effort of will keeps one going, in spite
of the fact that to He down to rest is likely to result in at
least unpleasantness. One often knows what it is to go
hungry for periods much too prolonged for a stomach care-
fully trained to regular meals on civilised lines. One learns
to understand the real meaning of thu'st in a dry country
under a tropical sun ; for all our journey lies between 0° N.
and 1° S., and during the greater part of the time one stands
directly over one's shadow at noon. Tramping through
long grass and soft sand, and every now and again forcing a
way through dense scrub or forest, is by no means an easy
method of progression. That same grass and scrub, too, is
alive with insects of the most pestilential type, whose number
is only equalled by their pertinacity. Along some parts of
the route " ticks " are found in amazing numbers, and
swarms of mosquitoes, gnats and flies of every conceivable
variety make life a misery. Their bites, even when least
harmful, give rise to insupportable itching, and in the worst
event may lead to blood-poisoning, to say nothing of malaria,
sleeping sickness and the like. Many preparations, of course,
arc sold, with which to anoint the skin against the attacks
of these pests ; but I have found nothing better or simpler
than a strong solution of Epsom salts. This dries almost
as soon as it is rubbed on, leaving the skin covered with a
white incrustation which is apparently extremely distasteful
to the insect tribes. From an artistic point of view the
result leaves something to be desired ; one looks rather like
a disreputable marble statue ; but it is effective in its purpose
even if at first sight it creates a certain amount of amuse-
ment. Moreover, it costs practically nothing, which is more
than can be said of some of the preparations advertised for
the same purpose.

Then there is the " jigger," which is coast English for the
chigoe. This is one of the curiosities of the insect world.
It is a sort of miniature flea with an insatiable desire to see
that its species does not become extinct. The great object
of its life is to lay eggs, and its favourite place for depositing
them is beneath the nail of the big toe. Once settled, there
G 97

AFTER BIG GAME

or elsewhere, it gets to work. The bag of eggs produced is
about the size of a pea. If the victim notices it and takes
proper steps, there is Httle trouble ; if not, he is in for a
very unpleasant time. At best the irritation is very great ;
at the worst very serious ulcers may be produced. But the
ways of the jigger are more fully described in a later chapter.

Another trouble is getting wet. The dew lies heavy in
the mornings, when the day's tramp begins ; and in a very
few minutes of walking through grass as high as the waist,
or even the head, one gets soaked to the skin. The clothes
dry, of course, later on, when the sun gets up. But there
are water-courses to cross, rivers to ford, marshes and swamps
to plough through. Any or all of these may be in the day's
work. Consequently feet and legs are being continually
soaked, much to the detriment of one's boots, which eventu-
ally become stiff, hard and unyielding, however carefully
they are treated.

There is, besides, an ever-present possibility of bad drinking
water, with dysentery in the background. But the man
who will not take the trouble to boil his water before using
it has no business to go on trek in Africa. It is true that
boiled water is not particularly interesting as a beverage,
but that is a minor evil.

Take it as one likes, a trek through Central Africa is by
no means a path of roses. As a matter of sober fact, literally
as well as figuratively, it is a path of thorns. The African
thorns are unspeakable. A day through some scrub I have
known would reduce an honest pair of breeches even below
the native standard of propriety, which is saying a good deal.
Even the lion won't face the thorn bushes. There is certainly
some excuse for him, for the lion is notoriously a soft-skinned
beast. Many of the trees are absolutely unclimbable for
the same reason, at least under ordinary circumstances. I
have, however, seen native porters, chased by a rhino, take
refuge in a thorn-tree, though with disastrous results to
clothes, skin and temper.

Further, one has to do a great part of the travelling by the
primitive method of footing it. Steam can do many things
nowadays in the way of annihilating distance, but it cannot

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ON SAFARI

bring the big-game hunter right face to face with his quarry.
Fortunately the Uganda Railway has done away with the
terrible march up from Mombasa across the waterless Taru
desert, "the Thirst," as the natives call it, and the equally
troublesome passage through the fly country. But once at
Nairobi, the big-game hunter who desires to take the sport
seriously must say good-bye to civilisation and to civilised
means of locomotion. He may, of course, get pack animals
or oxen, but they have to be fed, and there are great stretches
where there is no suitable grazing. There is even greater
difficulty in finding water ; and in some districts the tsetse
fly has settled the question of draught animals out of hand.
Moreover, in areas where the greater carnivora abound, horses
and oxen need protection at night ; and as the very object
of the trip is to find out where these beasts are most numerous
the question of protection becomes a serious one. It means,
in effect, constructing a sort of fortified camp each night.
So, speaking generally, the plan is to go on foot, with perhaps
a " salted " mule or two to help things along. If there is a
desert to cross, the camel comes into the question. Many
safaris to the Guaso Nyiro and beyond it to Marsabit do
take camel. This beast lessens the difficulty in one respect,
but certainly increases it in another. For of all the con-
trary beasts sent to plague mankind, the camel is the worst.
For pure, unadulterated " cussedness " he has no rival. As
Kipling puts it :

" 'E's a devil an' a ostrich an' orphan child in one.
'E'U gall an' chafe an' lame an' fight ; 'e smells most awful vile ;
'E'll lose 'isself for ever if you let 'im stray a mile ;
'E's game to graze the 'ole day long an' 'owl the 'ole night through,
An' when 'e comes to greasy ground 'e splits 'isself in two."

Even that doesn't exhaust the tale of his iniquities. He
is stubborn, vicious and unspeakably stupid. Really his
stupidity is a virtue, and his only one ; for if by a happy
chance one does succeed in starting him the way he is wanted
to go he is too stupid for anything to attract him from the
straight path, and goes straight ahead. One is tempted to
compare ium with certam folk one knows. But as every

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schoolboy knows, he has one useful quality. He can go for
some days without water, though his capacity in this direc-
tion is almost always absurdly overrated. I am half inclined
to believe that he only does it at all out of sheer perversity
and because he hates the sight of water. It is a spectacle
for gods and men, if one is not in a hurry, to see a score or
so of boys trying to get a baggage camel across a stream.
If it is one's own baggage, and one is in a hurry to get on,
the sight is not quite so entertaining. The camel scores
over other forms of transport in another particular. There
is no need to carry any food for him. Nor is it necessary to
go out of the way to find pasture. The beast will be quite
satisfied with the leaves and branches of trees and scrub,
which he will find by the wayside. However, despite these
advantages, and after considering the question in all its
bearings, we decided that we would not take camel.

As one cannot depend upon replenishing stores en route,
living on the country is out of the question. So the first
thing to be done is to settle exactly what in the way of food
is likely to be wanted. Now, getting everything one wants
is a ticklish business. It is one of the things that money
won't do. Of course any outfitter will supply his idea of
what you want. But experience alone will teach you what
you should really have, and the limits of that happy mean
which embodies the maximum of comfort with the minimum
of weight. That is the essence of the whole question — weight.
And as in any case you can't carry all your impedimenta
yourself, you are driven back in spite of yourself upon a gang
of native porters. And that brings us, though perhaps by
a rather roundabout route, to our safari. "Safari" is an
African word, and the thing it represents is an African
product. It has about as many shades of meaning as a
chameleon has of colour. To begin with, it means a caravan.
The caravan will consist of native porters, with perhaps a
mule or two, some ox-wagons or a few camels. When one
travels in this way one is said to "go on safari " or to "do
a safari," so that the word also means an expedition by
caravan. But the whole fit-out, with porters, gun-bearers,
askaris, cook and syces, and all the paraphernalia they carry

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with them, also makes a safari, because you can order one at
an outfitter's and that is what you get. If you ask a sports-
man or traveller, just back from the interior, how he did his
journey, he will probably say : " Oh, I went on safari." A
very useful word, " safari."

They understand safaris very well in Mombasa and in
Nairobi, a little too well, perhaps, for the unsophisticated
visitor. Various firms exist for the purpose of fitting out
safaris with all the things they want, and the thousand and
one other things that might come in useful but never do.
If a man has had previous experience, he may succeed in
getting what he wants and in dodging what he doesn't. If
he has not, he is, like the beginner at any game, just a sheep
in the hands of the shearer. The atmosphere of the East
has apparently a favourable effect on the development of the
commercial instinct. Anyhow, traders in the East seem to
possess in an unusual degree the faculty of keeping one eye
on their own pockets while directing the other to your needs.
As a natural result, the greater the novice the more perfect
the safari he takes out. I am told that it is perfectly easy
to trace a new chum's safari by the trail of " perfectly in-
dispensable " articles it sheds on its route. I don't believe
it, because I know the native boy's capacity as a picker-up
of unconsidered trifles, and am perfectly sure that an)i:hing,
no matter how useless, shed on the march, would find a place
in somebody's private pack. One may be certain that the
first time it is necessary to hold a kit inspection and make
the safari expose its belongings, everything which has been
thrown away on the march will come to light, to say nothing
of several things which have not. Throwing away useless
articles on safari is like casting bread upon the waters, save
for the fact that one invariably gets it back with interest.

I do not propose to lay down the law as to what a man
should carry. One may have a taste for soda water in bottle,
while another may be content with sparklets and what water
Fate may send him, and a third may have a partiality for
champagne in bulk. It is all a matter of taste. Every man,
too, has his own ideas as to clothes and armament. With
regard to both, and to the latter particularly, he had better

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stick to what he knows than go adventuring after strange
gods. If one should happen to get into a ticklish position,
it is far better to have by him a weapon he knows than one
yet to be proved and that he is not quite sure of. As to
clothing, I have but one warning. A man must not imagine,
because he is going into equatorial Africa, that he will need
nothing but thin clothing. He must remember that he will
be for a great part of the time some seven thousand feet
above sea-level. He will find substantial underwear and a
good top-coat distinctly serviceable. In fact, for much of
the time during my trip to the Guaso Nyiro, I rode in a
top-coat and a muffler.

I have already referred to some of the troubles of the march.
The negro porter is another. That "man and brother"
can at times develop as much vice and eccentricity as a mule ;
and as an American writer puts it : " You never know what
a mule is going to do until he has done it." He is, to start
with, just a big child with a child's notions of responsibility
and of morality, but unfortunately a man's capacity for doing
mischief. Consequently the safari wants a great deal of
handling, particularly at first. Like a schoolboy, the native
is anxious to " try it on " with the new master. So he starts
to find out how far he can go with safety. An easy or care-
less master is in for trouble, a host of petty annoyances,
shoals of complaints about everything under the sun, includ-
ing the food, the size of the loads, the tyranny of the head-
man, the habits of the others, and so forth, ending in sulkiness
and possibly open disobedience. On the other hand, undue
severity is apt to defeat itself. Punishment, which means
the kiboko, either at one's own hands or those of the headman,
loses all its effect if given for trifling offences or in excess.
The fact is that the ordinary negro boy, like the British
workman, wants a master, and isn't happy till he gets one.
To try, in a mistaken spirit of kindness, to lessen his work or
to make things light for him, is the surest way to earn his
contempt. But if one is firm and has taken the trouble to
find out what may reasonably be expected in the way of
work, and to see that he has no opportunity to shirk it, he
can readily be brought under discipline. The worst customer

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is probably the one who has been brought most closely into
touch with civilisation. The Swahili has had some experi-
ence of life as it is understood in the Coast towns, and the
knowledge has made him conceited beyond belief. The
Somali has a sublime confidence in his own importance and
an equal contempt for anyone else, and is at all times a diffi-
cult person to handle. When to this one adds laziness, a
constitutional incapacity for telling the truth, and a strong
inclination towards insolence, if it is considered safe, it is
evident that a safari, unless carefully handled, contains
all the elements of serious trouble. But once you have the
native in hand and have won his confidence you may do with
him what you will, and he will show himself cheerful, obliging,
ready and enduring. There are regular races of these porters,
who have been brought up, or are the descendants of men
brought up, on the old caravan routes. Most of them belong
to the Coast tribes, the Swahili, Wanyamwesi and Manyema.
These take a pride in their work, in the loads they can carry,
the distances they can cover in a day's march, and the
rapidity and skill with which they can set up or strike camp.
The last factor makes a vast difference in the comfort of a
journey. The other races from the interior are said to be
inferior in one way or another. Thus the Wayamba, though
admirable carriers, are on the small side, and consequently
unable to deal with such heavy loads. The Kikuyu, while
amiable and docile, are considered less hardy and enduring
than the Coast peoples. As to this, I can only say that I
was perfectly satisfied with the work and behaviour of my
Kikuyu boys, who did very well indeed.

The ordinary load is fifty to sixty pounds, and the porters,
without exception, seemed to manage it with ease. I have
heard, however, of men who could carry ninety pounds
through a long day without showing signs of exhaustion. In
considering the amount of each man's load it must be re-
membered that he carries all his personal belongings as well,
in many cases no inconsiderable addition. It is interesting
to note that whereas the Swahili, the Wanyamwesi, and other
tribes used to the open caravan routes, carry on the head,
the Kikuyu carry on the back, the load being supported by

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a forehead strap. To ease themselves the former will raise
their burden at arms'-length above the head and carry it so
for a considerable distance ; while the latter, to take the
strain off the forehead, will bend forward so that the weight
of the load is brought upon the humped-up shoulders. Like
all labour in Africa, the march is accomplished to song — solo
and chorus, a monotonous reiteration which gets on one's
nerves abominably until they are accustomed to it. In
camp, even after the most fatiguing day, the music is kept up
with unabated spirit, accompanied by vigorous dancing and
a no less vigorous strumming on some of the most awful
contrivances for producing sound that even the savage mind
could conceive.

As to dress, the porter wears, at the outset at least, every-
thing he happens to be possessed of. A blanket and a jersey
are items of his outfit which he acquires at your expense.
But if he has at an}^ time come into contact with civilisation
he is sure to display traces of it in his attire, such as a pair
of knickerbockers, a discarded shooting-coat, or possibly an
old overcoat. He will certainly wear them all, no matter
what the temperature may be, and seems actually to revel
in a heavy ulster under a tropical sun. In addition, he has
an extraordinary propensity for picking up discarded rubbish,
all of which he manages to dispose about his person. Thus
a safari on the march is often a source of considerable amuse-
ment. In camp, however, he discards all these adventitious
aids to adornment, and reverts to savagery and grace, as his
master will find out the first time he indulges his taste for
song and dance, which will be as soon as the " bwana "
shoots anything big enough to give the whole crowd a real
good feed of fresh meat.

So far about safaris in general ; but it may be as well
that I should say something about the one I know best, my
own. Really I had three — one for each of my three trips to
the Guaso Nyiro, to Voi and Tsavo, and to the Laikipia
Plains. But though these, like the stars, varied in magnitude,
there was very little difference in any other way. A few
words about the first may therefore serve equally well for the
other two.

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In getting my safari I was very fortunate, first, in my
choice of time, which made me the earhest in the field and
gave me the pick of the men ; and secondly, in my choice of
locality. The Governor of British East Africa, Sir H. Conway
Belfield, is an old friend. We were thrown together a great
deal in our younger days in the Straits Settlements, and
when I mentioned my purpose of shooting in East Africa
he immediately declared his intention of doing all that he
could to make the trip a success. When I landed I fancy
the word had gone round that I was to be looked after.
There is no doubt that every help was given me, and I
am glad to have this opportunity of acknowledging his
Excellency's kindness and hospitality, both then and during
the whole of my stay.

I was equally fortunate in another direction. I had made
up my mind to get a white hunter who knows the country to
accompany me on my trip. Some sportsmen prefer to go
off on safari alone, trusting to their headman to supply all
necessary information as to the whereabouts of the various
kinds of game and the methods of travel, hunting and living
peculiar to the country. This method seems far too risky.
There is the chance that the headman might not know ; and
that even if he did know, he might not be able to tell me.
And further, I had no mind to be alone in the wilds for three
months or so at a stretch without anyone to talk to. I
could give many more reasons ; but the fact was that I
wanted a companion who would have the same interests as
I had and who, moreover, would have the advantage of
knowing the country.

1 intended, if I could, to secure the assistance of Mr R. J.
C'unninghame, whose fame as a hunter is known all over the
world, and whose great black beard is a rallying point for
" big game " men everywhere. But as luck would have it,
he had just undertaken to go out with the Crown Prince of
Sweden ; so, on his advice, I made the acquaintance of Mr
Duirs, who had been manager for Mr M'Millan on his famous
farm at Juga. After talking it over with him he consented
to accompany me. It was a very lucky choice for me. A
more skilful hunter, a better fellow, or a more interesting

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companion it would have been impossible to find. The
pleasure and the success of the trip were largely due to his
geniality, skill and unfailing resource, and I am very glad to
have the chance of saying so here. He is now gone to New
Zealand to take up farming, and may all good luck go with
him.

Duirs helped immensely with the preliminary arrange-
ments. Pencil in hand, we checked and ticked off the agents'
lists, scoring out here, adding there, reducing one total and
increasing another, until between us we managed to cut
down our baggage to what I hope was a reasonable figure.
I didn't want to leave out anything that would add to our
comfort, and yet I wanted to take nothing we could get on
decently without. In the end I fancy we did the trick, and
hit the happy mean between skimping on the one hand and
extravagance on the other. I certainly don't remember
wanting anything that mattered while on trek, and I didn't
see much waste. One or two things we took out and brought
back almost intact. Among them was a case of very special
old brandy which I had taken out from England for use
on emergency. That emergency never arose, and the case
proved a bit of a white elephant on the journey. I finally
disposed of it in Nairobi for about half what it cost. In
Africa the less spirit one drinks the better.

My team, as finally selected, totalled 144, and looked
formidable enough for an army of invasion. And yet I
found, as a matter of experience, that there were none
too many. Indeed, I had to arrange for an additional 50
to join the safari at Nyeri to carry " posho." Of these
more hereafter. That question of posho is the nightmare
of the safari. By Government regulations each porter
must have an allowance of a pound and a half a day. So,
if you are 200 strong and off for a safari of three months,
you need to take or arrange for the trifle of 27,000 lb. of
posho ! Of course you may like to take a little tinned milk
or extract of beef as well for your own private consumption.
But that 27,000 lb. of posho has to be arranged for. The
Government has said so, and the State demands it. Fortun-
ately, you can usually buy some posho en route from Indian

io6

ON SAFARI

shops (where there are any), from various trading posts on
the safari routes, and sometimes from native villages. So
you are not saddled with the whole 27,000 lb. at the start.
But the posho accounts for your numbers. Like the army,
a safari marches upon its stomach. Posho is usually Indian
corn meal, but it may be flour, rice, corn or beans. When
you find meat, the allowance of posho is reduced accordingly.
It is rather a nuisance to have a mixed crowd, as their food
requirements vary. Some won't eat meat at all, some object
to game meat, some will eat beans and whole corn (maize),
and some won't.

The most prominent persons among the crowd are the
headman, the gun-bearers, the syces, the askari, the cook
and your tent boys. I have put them more or less in the
order of importance, save that the askari ought, as a matter
of fact, to come last. But he looks so important that I
hadn't the heart to put him there. He is the most dignified
person in Africa.

The headman, " monpara " in Swahili, which is the lingua
franca of the Coast, is one of the two great factors on which
success depends. The cook is the other. My headman was
named Nubi, a Swahili, whatever that may imply in the
matter of lineage, and a thoroughly smart and capable fellow.
This is no small matter, for the headman bears most of the
responsibility of the trip. His business is to handle the
crowd. Handling a couple of hundred semi-savage Africans
is not the easiest job in the world. It requires a 7nan. Your
monpara must have unlimited energy and unlimited pluck,
and he must know his job. Further, he must have the
physique to back up his commands. If he is not up to his
work you may find yourself some fine morning a hundred
miles or so from anywhere, and face to face with an open
mutiny ; or worse still — for a mutiny can be handled — find
the whole journey spoilt by sullen and half-mutinous be-
haviour. Nubi was a good man ; I knew it, and the boys
knew it, and we had no trouble. I can only record one
little incident against him, and that is rather a joke than
a grievance. On Christmas morning, a day or so after our
return, I was sitting in the verandah of the Norfolk Hotel at

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Nairobi, when I saw Nubi lounging on the other side of the
road. I had some idea what he was after, but I would not
call him over, nor would he come and ask me for the rupee
or so that was in his mind. He waited ; I made no sign.
Then he came across to the hotel, still avoiding me, and
asked to see the mem-sahib. When he saw her he shook
hands gravely, and then remarked: "Mem-Sahib, this
Christmas Day ? " " Yes, Nubi, it's Christmas Day." The
hint was a palpable one but was not taken, and the conversa-
tion fell flat. Finally Nubi plucked up his courage and
asked : " It is custom in England for sahibs give presents
Christmas Day ? " " Nubi," remarked the mem-sahib
severely, " you're an old humbug ! " Nubi saw the humour
of the situation, burst out laughing and went off without
another word.

On the march, Nubi kept his men well in hand. We
rarely had any trouble which he could not and did not settle
on the spot, and that without the use of the kiboko. Dis-
cipline on safari depends first on moral force, the extra-
ordinary authority exercised by the white over the black.
Afterwards it depends on physical force, and that is why the
kiboko becomes necessary now and again. A gang of natives
is very much like a lot of big boys, and amenable only to the
same arguments. Duirs wouldn't do it, which was perhaps
fortunate, for he is a big, powerful fellow, and a big man
animated with a sense of justice is apt to forget his own
strength. I did not want to do it either ; and so, on the
very few occasions when it was necessary, it fell to Nubi ;
and with him, as a rule, I fancy it was largely a matter of
form, and that his justice was largely diluted with mercy.
But it is just as well to know how one stands with the law ;
and legally a headman is not entitled to use his kiboko. A
headman's wages may be anything from Rs20 to Rs75 a
month.

The gun-bearers also were very good men. My own man,
Ramasan, had been with Mr Selous, a very lucky thing for
me, for he had had a capital training, was a good hunter and
a skilful tracker, and the second gun, when needed, was
always where it ought to be. He had plenty of pluck, too,

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ON SAFARI

and could be depended on in an emergency — which is not
true, I am told, of all gun-bearers.

As a mark of esteem, or because he wanted to get rid of
them. ]Mr Selous had given Ramasan a pairof hunting breeches,
of which the latter was inordinately fond. On big days he
always put them on and never failed to call attention to the
fact that they were a present from the great master. I
used to feel quite small on Ramasan's "breeches days,"
feeling sure that he was comparing me, not at all to my ad-
vantage, with their former owner. However, he was quite a
good chap, and we got on famously together. Come to think
of it, a gun-bearer's is a rather tricky job at times. It re-
quires not a little pluck to stand in front of a charging rhino-
ceros or buffalo and hand the loaded rifle to someone else,
especially when not quite sure that the someone else won't
lose his nerve at the critical moment. I have nothing but
praise for Ramasan, who certainly deserved his wage of
Rs25 per month. You can get gun-bearers much cheaper,
as from Rsl5 ; or you may promote one of your porters,
who will probably do very well after a little training. One's
usual difficulty is to get them to take sufficient care with
the skinning, which is not an easy matter if the trophy is
to be perfect. A trained gun-bearer should be expert at this.

The askari are the military police of the safari. They
are the headman's non-commissioned officers and help him
to maintain discipline. It was their special business to
guard the camp at night. They were mightily proud of
themselves and their uniform — blue serge tunic, puttees and
red fez. They were fine chaps, too. Each was armed with
an antiquated Snider and the Government allowance of five
cartridges- — or none, I forget which. This is a concession to
the possible needs of the safari, for in Africa natives arc not
allowed to carry firearms. Two of the guns would go off ;
the third wouldn't, but was probably just as effective as
regards any execution likely to be done. But the air of
dignity with which they shouldered these terrible weapons
and piotccted the safari from the perils of tlie march was
magnificent. As a matter of fact, I don't think askaris are
at all necessary. Any of the porters could have done the

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needful in the way of standing guard just as well. But if
they weren't useful they were distmctly ornamental, and
were worth the Rsl5, or whatever it was, per month, for the
touch of importance they added to the safari. Moreover,
the agents tell you that it is always the custom to take
askaris and' — well, we are a conservative people, and anyway
we don't go to Africa to fly in the face of custom.

My syce was a man of different race from the particular
blend which is known as Swahili. I think he was a Masai.
If so, he certamly had one characteristic in common with
his tribe. The Masai are a nation of warriors, and he never
missed a chance of a fight. He was mightily proud and
independent, and if asked to do anything outside his par-
ticular work was up on his high horse immediately. When
the boys discovered this amiable characteristic, they pro-
vided him with all the opportunities for losing his temper
he could desire. Someone would call out to him to come and
fetch water. He would retort : " My business here to look

after mule, I no d porter." Then the trouble would

begin. Scarcely a day passed but he was quarrelling with
someone or other, and the affair not infrequently ended in
a fight. Once or twice the fight threatened to become
general, and then we had to bestir ourselves and see that all
knives and other weapons were taken away, or there might
have been some serious damage done. Generally it was
best to let them fight it out till we thought the affair had gone
far enough, when we intervened and stopped it.

The cook and his mates have some knowledge of European
cooking, picked up probably first at a mission station and
then in the kitchen of some white official or trader. For
the same reason they have a smattering of English. His
art is hardly up to the level of the Ritz or the Carlton ; but
he can turn out a decent meal under almost any conditions,
and that is not to be despised in the wilds of Africa. After
all, fine cooking is hardly needed in a country where sun and
air or exercise, or all three combined, give the hunter an
appetite almost equal to that of the beast he is after. His
pay is from Rs25 upward to, say, Rs50 or Rs60 a month,
and he generally earns it. It will be well, however, to keep

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ON SAFARI

a careful eye on the tinned stuff. He has no sense of economy,
and is hopelessly improvident. He has the most implicit
faith in your capacity to provide more when the present stock
runs out. So for your own comfort it is best to see that the
chop boxes are kept intact until wanted.

The porters, who form the bulk of the crowd, are, of course,
inferior to these, and generally know little or no English.
Mine were coastmen — Swahili and Wanyamwesi, who had
been thoroughly broken in to safari work — and a jolly, happy-
go-lucky crowd they were, for the most part easily led, easily
pleased, easily amused and just as easily aroused. Their
good humour and endurance never failed to strike me with
admiration. A load of sixty pounds per man, plus his own
personal belongings, through African scrub and under an
African sun, is no trifle ; and a day's march may be fifteen
miles or more, according to the presence of water. And his
pay, at the regular trade union rate, is RslO per month,
with his pound and a half of posho per day. If he can get
fresh meat in addition, so much the better. He certainly
expects it, and there is no doubt about his enjoying it. It is
best to take along a substantial quantity of Epsom salts to
deal with the " tumbo " that follows in the wake of the fresh-
meat days. Remember too that a negro will want three
times a white man's dose.

A brief account of a typical day will give a better idea of
how the success of your expedition depends on the smartness
of the safari than any amount of explanation. You strike
camp at six a.m., so you are awakened at five ; but there is
no particular hardship in that, since you went to bed at
eight-thirty. Here is your tent boy with your chota hazri —
tea and biscuits. Meanwhile the askari has been rousing up
the camp. Sounds of hurry and bustle are heard ; the boys
are packing up. If you arc going to make a long non-stop
march they will breakfast before starting. If not, they will
eat at the noontide rest. The best plan is to let them feed
first and then make camp about one or two o'clock. You
get your tub. The dawn strikes chill, but you rub down
vigorously. Meanwhile your bed has disappeared ; frame,
blankets and all are neatly folded and packed into the valise.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Before you are properly dry your tub goes too. Breakfast
is ready and you sit do'vvn to it under the fly of your tent,
or under a tree if there is a decent one handy. The village
of last night is gone ; each tent is now a little centre of
activity. Everyone is amazingly busy. There is swiftness,
but no rush. Everything is deft, methodical. Xubi and his
askaris are here, there and everywhere, urging the men on.
By the time you have finished breakfast, there is nothing
left save a line of packs, each man standing by ready to
assume his burden. Even while you are looking round your
breakfast things have been cleared and stowed away, with the
kitchen utensils, in the cook box. Smart work, eh ? But
these are picked boys. They have learned their work and
are proud to show how swiftly and well they can do it. If
there is a laggard, Nubi has something to say to him ; I can't
understand it but I can fairly well guess what it means.
In any case I will bet that gentleman won't be last next time.
You glance down the line. " All right ! " declares Nubi.
" March ! " orders the " Bwana Kubwa " (do you recognise
yourself ?) ; the burdens are raised to head or back as the
case may be, the safari swings into line and the day has
begun.

You, as befits your dignity, ride on and take the lead, your
gun-bearers close behind, followed by your own boys with
your water-bottle and odds and ends you may want on the
march. Then come the cook and one or two askaris, and
then the porters, led by a reliable walker to set the pace.
The rate will be about two and three-quarter miles an hour,
and there will be a ten minutes' "Spell oh!" every hour
or so, according to the going. Of course this is not rapid
travelling, and you must be careful not to get too far ahead
lest you lose your column and get cut off from your supplies.

The dawn is just breaking and the grey of the east is
turning to pink. The dew is thick on the long grass. Before
many minutes you will be soaked to the skin, right up to the
waist, or even the neck, for the grass is high enough for that
in places. But the sun will be out presently and you will get
dry again. Meanwhile you wish you could march in native
costume. Getting wet doesn't matter to the boys ; they

112

lofdii)';' a Stream.

■^ /T^ »

Cominon Zebra.

ON SAFARI

are dry again as soon as the sun comes out. Still, you have
the beauty of the morning to console you. And the morning
is certainly the best part of the day, and more so in Africa
than in other places. If this is an ordinary day, you will
have finished your march by the time the sun gets right
overhead and you feel him strike do^\^l in his strength. Then
camp is set in the same swift methodical fashion ; the tents
are pitched, men go to fetch water, others to find wood.
The cook builds his fireplace of stones or great clods of earth.
And there is your village of overnight once more. It has
taken about half-an-hour to build. The men will try to pitch
on some old camping site, which saves much trouble ; but
there is the curse and fear of jiggers, bugs and scorpions in
these places. Then there is a hot bath, a meal, a siesta, and
then, towards the end of the afternoon, you take your gun
and stroll off to review the position, and to note from their
spoor what game are afoot. On the way you bring down a
buck or some birds for the evening meal.

That over, you sit under the fly of your tent, smoking
and chatting, laying plans for the morrow, and lazily watch-
ing the boys squatting round their fires. They are gossiping
• — no one's character is safe from them ; or they are story-
telling in more senses than one, or singing, or drawing quaint,
minor melodies from primitive instruments fashioned by
themselves from reeds and strings. Others are making
sandals out of strips of hide or doing some kind of embroidery
work ; or, if it has been a meat day, they are drying slices
to a most unappetising black, by suspending them from
sticks placed across the fire.

It is a simple and primitive life, and does one good after
the noise and bustle of cities. It acts like a tonic. It makes
a man fitter both physically and mentally. But the pipes
arc finished ; the watch-fires blaze up ; the guards are
set, and " Good-night all " ends an uneventful but most
enjoyable day.

H 113

AFTER BIG GAME

II. THE GUASO NYIRO

Until quite recently the Guaso Nyiro was the mystery
river of East Africa. Its source was unknown and its mouth
was unknown. The only thing that was certain was that it
did not end by flowing into the sea. Geographers surmised
that there might be here another of the great lakes for which
Africa is famous. In search of this lake, Mr William Astor
Chanler, an American, traced the course of the river from its
head- waters on the northern slopes of Mount Kenia, and found
that it ended, not in a lake, but in the great Lorian swamp.
Two streams combine to form the main river, the Guaso
Narok, " black river," and the Guaso Nyiro, " brown river."

From Nairobi one reaches the Guaso Nyiro by one of two
routes : Fort Hall and Nyeri and the western slopes of Mount
Kenia being the one, and Fort Hall, Meru and the eastern
slopes of Kenia being the other. The latter is the shorter,
and that usually selected by safaris. I took Duirs' opinion
on the matter, and we came to the conclusion that as time
was no object we would take the former and less frequented
route. In this way we kept off the beaten track, and in my
opinion got better shooting. Further, we did not attempt
to keep to a strict daily time-table. If we were attracted by
a certain kind of game we followed it up, even if it meant
staying for a day or two in a particular place where we had
never intended to stop at all, or diverging for a few miles
from the direct line of route. So, though the journey from
Nairobi to Archer's Post is reckoned to take only fourteen
days, my safari, which left Nairobi on 20th September, only
reached Archer's Post on 22nd November. By this method
I was enabled to explore the head- waters of the river, to follow
up certain of its tributaries, and to obtain some of the finest
and most interesting shooting that it has ever been my lot
to strike. The accoimt which follows is based upon my daily
diary, with such additions as have occurred to me at the time
of writing.

The safari, under Duirs and Hutton, the keeper whom I
had brought from Scotland, left Nairobi at four in the after-

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ON SAFARI

noon of 20th September. The start was late, but we were
glad to get the men out of Nairobi. In addition to the
regulation blanket, jersey and water-bottle, they had received
some advance in cash, and a night in the bazaar might not
have improved the prospects of the march. So off they went
amid a scene of great bustle and excitement. We all stood
outside Newland & Tarlton's store to see them off. Duirs
mounted his mule and leaned over to say good-bye, when
the beast cocked his tail and Duirs came off, much to our
amusement and his own. Then the procession moved off,
to camp for the night at Kamiti, about fourteen miles out
along the Fort Hall road. I did not join the safari for some
days, but will briefly describe its progress in the interval.

Sunday, Sept. 21st. Marched at 6.30 a.m. for the Ndaragu,
and shot a kongoni and two Tommies on the road. The
route lies over a very undesirable country, with here and there
good grass but plenty of scrub.

Monday, Sept. 22nd. Struck camp at 6.30 a.m. and
marched to Makinde on the Thika river. This is a charming
spot and a favourite week-end resort for parties from Nairobi.
The two rivers, Thika and Chania, join here, each having a
beautiful waterfall, and each being spanned by a tiny bridge.
Another object of interest is the famous hostelry known as
the " Blue Posts." This is the half-way house along the
Fort Hall road and is in consequence much frequented by
those who travel that dreary road. It is also acknowledged,
according to its advertisements, to be " the most beautiful
spot in British East Africa." The hotel proper consists
chiefly of a dining-room with separate tables, and a bar ;
while "accommodation for the night" is afforded by a
number of little thatched huts, just like overgrown beehives,
each containing a bed and washstand upon a wooden floor
raised some six inches off the ground, the whole forming, to
quote the advertisement again, " an English home in the
heart of Africa." Here the whites of the party had lunch,
and bear witness that the boasted " excellence of the cuisine "
was duly tested and not found wanting.

Tuesday, Sept. 23rd. Struck camp half-an-hour earlier,
at six o'clock, the next march to the Marangua river being a

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AFTER BIG GAME

long one. Duirs rode ahead to call on Dr Lamb and inquire
after Mr Outram, who had been badly mauled by a lion and
at one time was hardly expected to recover. He found the
doctor very hopeful, his patient being out of immediate
danger. There was also every chance of saving his leg, which
had been considered impossible.

Wednesday, Sept. 24th. Started at 6.30 for Fort Hall.
This is the headquarters of the British administration and
boasts a Court House flying the British flag, a few bungalows
and a dozen or so sheds which do duty for shops and dignify
themselves by the title of the Indian Bazaar. There is the
usual crowd of natives in various stages of undress, and a
number of askaris or native police, looking very smart in
their uniforms of blue jersey, shorts, puttees and red fezes.
Fort Hall stands on a low hill, and is hotter and more un-
pleasant than even any East African to\vn has any right to
be. The boys marched well and got to a point six miles
beyond Fort Hall, receiving a rupee a head as an advance on
their w^ages. In Africa, a rupee goes a considerable way in
the purchase of such commodities as appeal to the native
mind.

Thursday, Sept. 25th. Marched at 6 a.m. for Nyeri, but
camped six miles short. Up to the present I was not with
the safari. The fact is that I had learned that Fort Hall
road is about as uninteresting as anything in the whole of
Africa, the main feature of the landscape being great stretches
of dull brown, for the soil consists of a sort of ironstone which
is neither fertile nor pretty. Here and there are patches of
black dotted with grey lumps of stone. The vegetation con-
sists chiefly of thorns ; and each thorn has at its base a hollow
blob full of ants which bite in a fashion which I can only
describe as fiendish. Among the thorns too there are ticks.
Moreover, along this road there is no shooting to speak of.
So I determined to get a car and ride over from Nairobi to
meet the safari at Nyeri. The distance is about a hundred
miles ; the road is a weather-washed track which has never
been made in any way ; and I rather regretted I had not
marched with the safari, which, after all, can nip in and out
of the sandy hollows as a car, or at any rate this car, certainly

ii6

ON SAFARI

could not. However, I got there eventually. Duirs rode
in to meet me on my arrival, returning to the camp after dark.

Friday, Sept. 2Cith. Duirs, at the head of his column, put
in an appearance about nine o'clock. We were late in start-
ing, as we had got fifty extra men here to carry posho. These
fifty men were Kikuyu, sturdy, well-set fellows, though
perhaps less powerful than the porters from the Coast. One
gets off much more lightly with these in the matter of equip-
ment, a blanket apiece, partly as a concession to propriety
and partly for warmth at night, being the whole of the
uniform required. These men prefer sleeping in the open
to building shelters, apparently trusting to Providence to
provide a decent night while they provide the fires. In bad
weather and on open ground, they will sometimes rig up a
tiny sheet on stakes to form a V-shaped tent. It is astonish-
ing how well these natives of a hot country can stand the
cold. On these uplands the nights are often extremely chilly ;
but they lie out in the open all night with only their blankets,
and these, curiously enough, often used to protect only the
head. I have heard it said that natives will lie round the
fire with their heads to the blaze, but I have never myself
seen anything of the sort. I am quite prepared to believe,
however, that the ordinary native does not suffer from cold
feet, in the literal sense anyhow. On the other hand, the
Swahilis used to pack themselves closely into their tents, the
regulation five men to each tent, and curl themselves up in
their blankets, as if they, at any rate, appreciated the cold.
But I have seen both lots on a chilly morning absolutely
stiff with the cold, limping up to stretch and warm them-
selves before the fire. Many a morning I have seen them
trying to lift the sheet covering some dozen boxes, and have
said : " These men are stiff with the cold ; giye them a snack
before they do any more." The native tribes living on these
uplands usually come out in the morning to bask in the sun
before beginning the business of the day, and our boys would
willingly do the same were it not for the discipline of the
camp. Nubi and his attendant askaris do not approve of
basking.

Saturday, Sept. 27th. Marched as usual and camped on

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AFTER BIG GAME

the Amboni river (6300 feet). We are now getting well up
into the foot-hills of Kenia and the difference is shown in
the vegetation. There are dense masses of shrubs of various
kinds and the forest trees of the lower zone. The country is
watered by innumerable rivers and the soil is black and rich.

Sunday, Sept. 28th. We struck camp at 6 a.m. for a very
long day's march along the lower timber line. The scenery
here, when one gets an open view, which is not often, is
magnificent. At sunrise there is a glimpse of the snow-
clad peak of Kenia, but for the rest of the day it is mainly
shrouded in mist. Rolling hills are succeeded by huge plains
covered with scrub, and looking from the distance just as if
covered with velvet. The desert patches show white in the
distance, and the track of the streams is marked by a fringe
of green jungle. We camped to-day on the Muru, near Mr
Coles' house (6900 feet), on the fringe of a forest of olives.

Monday, Sept. 29th. Marched at 6 a.m., and camped on
the Rongai river (6750 feet) on Mr Pease's farm. I had a
letter to him but did not present it. On the next day we
broke camp at 6.20 a.m. We had made up our minds that
our next stop should be on the Nyuki river, one of the biggest
tributaries of the Guaso Nyiro. So I sent the safari ahead to
find a suitable camping ground, while I went off on my mule
with syce and gun-bearers following on foot. I can imagine
someone sitting comfortably in an arm-chair and remarking :
" Two gun-bearers ! Why on earth couldn't the man carry
one gun himself ? " Well, at home I have often carried a
gun all day as a matter of course, and have done the same in
other parts of the world. I might do the same, let us say, in
America. But not in Africa, thanks ! There the necessary
strain of long days under the tropical sun is so great that a
man must spare himself to the utmost if he desires to keep
fit.

As a rule the native gun-bearers are not particularly good
at hunting or tracking, and some of them are hopelessly
ignorant ; but my head gun- bearer, as I have said, was an
exception, having been trained by Mr Selous. The porters
know very little about the game or the best methods of
finding it, or indeed of hunting generally. I am bound to

ii8

ON SAFARI

make exception in the case of the Wandorobo. He is
mightily shy at first, but if you once get hold of him he will
stick to you through thick and thin, just as a dog will do.
He is a great hunter, probably the best in the whole of Africa,
and will be of the utmost use to you ; being in that respect
unlike the ordinary boy, who is, as a rule, so excited at the
prospect of getting meat that he prevents your getting near
enough to shoot it for him.

This afternoon we sighted a kongoni (the local name for
Jackson's hartebeest). I stalked it for a very long time
and very carefully, as I was anxious for the boys to get some
fresh meat ; and as the kongoni is one of the strongest and
swiftest of the African antelopes, I knew that if he got going
I should never get near him. Eventually I risked a shot, but
only wounded him, and finally lost him among the dense
scrub. However, shortly afterwards I shot an oryx, which
was some compensation.

When I turned round to look for my syce I found, to my
disgust, that he was nowhere to be found. Nor, of course,
was the mule. The syce had evidently lost me when I was
tracking the kongoni ; and there was nothing for it but to
take my bearings and foot it for the camp. I arrived safely
after three hours' hard marching, and found the syce and
mule calmly awaiting my arrival. Of course he had his
excuse carefully prepared ; I said what the circumstances
seemed to require ; and then, after dinner, went straight to
bed, about as tired as I ever wish to be. This camp, where
we purpose remaining a day or two, is pitched near IMr Sheen's
farm on the Nyuki river, at an elevation of 7000 feet.

Wednesday, Oct. 1st. I went off at 7 a.m. to try for oryx,
as, according to accounts, there should be plenty in the
neighbourhood. I had the good fortune to bag two capital
specimens with horns 28 inches in length. This, the Beisa
oryx, is a beautiful animal, with high withers, stout neck,
bushy tail and straight horns. Seen full broadside, with the
horns in profile, one horn covers the other, so that the
animal appears to have but one ; and it is easy to imagine
liow, under these circumstances, early travellers got their
tales about the fabled unicorn. The oryx is supposed to be

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AFTER BIG GAME

very difficult to kill. Possibly this is because the shot is
usually a long one. Shooting in Africa is very deceptive,
as the light varies very much and the shimmer from the heated
ground makes the target indistinct. There is also a lot of
refraction. Still, the oryx has a very thick hide, particularly
on the neck and shoulders, and the natives prefer it to all
others for making shields. However, in spite of all difficulties,
I got my two easily enough.

Thursday, Oct. 2nd. This morning we shifted camp to a
point farther down the river, where we pitched our tents on
the fringe of a forest of cedars, a charming spot, at an eleva-
tion of 6700 feet. A Government safari camped close by.
It was under the charge of a party of the King's African
Rifles, and was carrying provisions across the desert to the
north of the Guaso Nyiro, to Masarbit. I w^nt out to look
for buffalo spoor but found none sufficiently recent to be
interesting. I managed, however, to shoot a kongoni, much
to the delight of the camp, the boys being particularly fond
of kongoni ; this is about the only reason for shooting him,
for he is an ungainly beast and makes anything but a good
trophy. There are three kinds to be found between here
and the Guaso Nyiro : Coke's (the common hartebeest),
Neumann's and Jackson's. The latter has a very dark face,
with no black blaze on it such as the other kinds have, and
its horns are hooked back very sharply at the tips. These
were 20 inches long. The kongoni is a biggish beast and
has extraordinary vitality and endurance.

Friday, Oct. Srd. I started out alone very early, still on
the hunt for buffalo, and spoored a big bull for about three
miles. However, he managed to get my wind and went off
into the trees, and I lost him. Judging by the blackness of
his coat and the spread of his horns he must have been a
typical forest buffalo, for the species found near reedy swamps
is lighter in colour and its horns are smaller.

Saturday, Oct Uh. Broke camp at 6.30 a.m. and marched
north-east, finally settling down by a creek on the way to
Makindi, our next camp. Elevation 6600 feet. Here I had
very little luck. I hit an oryx very badly but lost him in
the long grass, and could find nothing else although I hunted

120

Ihika Falls.

i

i

Oryx Hcisa

ON SAFARI

all the afternoon. The next day, Sunday, I went out in the
morning and shot two zebra. I was very much annoyed to
find my '360 misfire in the right barrel. This is certainly
not good enough in a place where one's life inight depend on
the shot. So when I got back to camp I tested it thoroughly,
and then, finding it continue to misfire, put in a new striker,
and trust to have no further trouble. In the evening I shot
another zebra. These were all Grevy's zebra, a taller and
slighter animal than the common zebra, but like it in having
the legs striped all the way down. It resembles Burchell's
variety in having a bushy mane and tail. It differs from
both in the number and narrowness of its stripes, and in
their arrangement. They are rarely found far from forest,
and are fond of hilly country. Burchell's zebra is a plain-
dwelling animal, and in ordinary light its stripe shows a
distinct brownish tinge. Its flesh, too, is greatly inferior
in flavour to that of the Grevy variety. The natives, how-
ever, like it because it is always fat.

Monday, Oct. 6th. This was the date of our first misad-
venture, and one that might easily have had fatal conse-
quences. I had sent the safari ahead to pitch camp at
Makindi, and then climbed the highest point of the ridge to
have a look round. I saw plenty of buffalo and rhino spoor,
though none very fresh. Some way off were two eland bulls
and eight kudu cows and one calf. I watched them through
my glasses for some time, hoping the kudu bull would join
them, which it eventually did. Then I determined to follow
them up. At the end of a very long stalk I told the syce to
take the saddle off the mule and to stay where he was until
he heard my shot, and then to follow the mountain-side to
the north, where the slope was easy and the mule would find
no difficulty in walking. Then I made a long detour so as
to head the wind, and came up to the place where the kudu
were, only to find they had disappeared. I was horribly
disappointed at having had all my trouble for nothing ; but
as it was getting late I turned back at once and made all
haste up the mountain-side to where I had left the syce and
the mule. I hunted everywhere, fired my rifle to attract his
attention, and waited for a long time. He did not turn up,

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AFTER BIG GAME

however, and I concluded that he had given me up and gone
back to the camp as he had done on the previous occasion.
So I started to walk home, making up my mind on the way
what I should say to the syce when I arrived. Darkness
had fallen by this time, and climbing down the steep mountain-
side through the thick forest was by no means an easy or a
pleasant job. However, the moon got up and I came out of
the wood into the grass, and then strode along in fine style,
reaching the camp at nine o'clock to find that neither syce
nor mule had arrived. I had a hot bath and dinner. Then,
there being no sign of the wanderers in spite of all we could
do by firing rockets and pistol, to indicate our position, I
went to bed.

Tuesday, Oct. 7th. The syce did not return until nine a.m.
He was in a pitiful case, with some nasty wounds in the
right arm and a badly bitten foot. He was highly excited
and more than a little incoherent ; but I gathered that he
had tried, in defiance of my instructions, to lead the mule
down the steep face of the cliff, and had speedily got into
difficulties. When he heard my signal shots from the top
of the cliff he went back to look for me, but by the time he
arrived I had evidently started back to the camp. He
followed, and as soon as the moon went down a leopard
attacked the mule, and the man's injuries, so he said, were
caused by trying to drive the beast off. We got his arm and
foot cleansed, washed with antiseptic solution and comfort-
ably bound up. The leader has to do his own doctoring on
safari, and generally with satisfactory results. He doesn't,
of course, carry the whole of the British Pharmacopoeia with
him, but there is always enough in the medicine chest to treat
slight injuries and ailments. As a rule there isn't a great
deal the matter ; slight injuries due to accidents, colds, a
touch of fever, or a stomach-ache due to too much meat, are
the principal troubles, and these mostly yield to the simplest
treatment. The boys have immense faith in the white man's
remedies, which they consider only one remove from magic,
and are most eager to find excuses to come and be doctored.
Quinine, Epsom salts and permanganate of potash are the
chief stand-bys of the safari doctor, who often, however, lays

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ON SAFARI

himself out to devise something particularlj'^ weird and nasty
for a " tmnbo " due to a more than usually aggravated case
of gluttony. I have known the whole of the table condiments
pressed into service on such occasions with really excellent
effect. But your negro boy always considers that the efhcacy
of a remedy depends mainly on its nastiness, and would give
nothing for a " n'dowa " that had not a pronounced pungency
of flavour. Under these circumstances there is a good deal
of room for ingenuity and some scope for amusement. The
syce, however, was badly hurt, and gave us some concern,
because the claws and teeth of the carnivora are highly septic,
through the unpleasant habit they have of interfering with
other beasts in an advanced state of decomposition. We
did our best with him, and meanwhile the headman appeared
with the news that the syce had left behind, with the dead
mule, the saddle, bridle and my camera. We started off to
try and find the spot, but a bad thunderstorm intervened
and we had to remain under shelter. No one who has not
had experience of the tropics can have any idea of the
amazing nature of the downpour. It appeared, indeed, as if
the heavens opened and the water was precipitated in one
solid mass.

Wednesday, Oct. 8th. The following morning at 4 a.m. we
started out, taking lanterns with us as the track near the
camp was very rough. We reached the top of the ridge but
could find no trace of any dead mule. The syce was so upset
by his mauling that he could give no coherent account of
what had happened or where it had occurred. We quartered
out and searched the whole district until ten o'clock, but
without success ; and then, unwilling to lose the whole day,
gave it up and went off in search of game. Looking down
over the mountain- side, I saw six kudu on the grass below.
It was a long time before I could find the bull, but at last
I fixed him, and slid down the mountain- side into a small
gully, thinking that by following it I should get near enough
for a shot. Leaving the gun-bearers in the gully, I pushed
on through the grass until I could see his horns about 150
yards away. I did not dare raise my head above the grass,
so fired from where I was, and was highly pleased to see him

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AFTER BIG GAME

give two bounds and then fall dead. As I afterwards dis-
covered, he was shot through the heart. At the sound of the
shot two klipspringers leapt up out of the grass and made off
uphill, bounding from rock to rock just like chamois, which
indeed they much resemble. They are equally agile, spring
from one perch to another in remarkably surefooted fashion,
and steady themselves instantaneously, although the spot on
which they land is not more than a few inches square. The
name, which means " cliff- jumper," is well given. They are
pretty little yellowish things, less than two feet high, and the
male has a pair of shai'p little horns about four inches long.
They are excellent eating, so as soon as the male showed him-
self on the top of a rock, I knocked him over with a shot from
my '360 Fraser. The klipspringer has very bristly hair,
which comes out freely during the process of skinning. The
boys came up in wild excitement at the sound of the shots,
for nothing excites them like the prospect of meat ; but I
could hardly get them to believe that I had shot a kudu.
They had not seen the animals at first, the distance being
too great for the unaided eye. We took off the head and
skin of the kudu, but w^ere unfortunately unable to take a
photo, my spare camera being in camp. Then the boys took
what meat they wanted, which meant all that they could
carry, and left the rest to the birds, which by this time had
begun to collect in the usual numbers. Skinning is always
done in the centre of an admiring and expectant circle.
Scarcely has the beast dropped before a speck in the blue
begins to get larger and larger, and finally discloses itself as
one of the carrion birds dropping earthward like a plummet.
Then other specks appear, rushing in from every point of the
compass, and in a very few minutes you are in the midst of
a crowded circle of excited, snarling, jostling birds of prey.
If you try to drive them off, they flap heavily away for a few
yards, drop to the ground, and '.waddle back into the circle
again. Then, when you have finished with the carcass and
turned to depart, there is a tumultuous rush and roar of
wings, a tossing sea of backs, and a perfect nightmare of
sound' — screeching, snarling, rending, crushing, and always
the brushing of wings, until in two or three minutes all that

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ON SAFARI

is left of your " kill " is just the larger bones picked absolutely
clean. The birds have gone, all save a few fortunate ones
which, first at the feast, have gorged themselves to repletion,
and are now perched heavily on the neighbouring trees
digesting their meal.

We climbed to the top of the mountain again for a rest and
a meal, and then followed the track along the side through
thick forest, keeping a sharp look-out for buffalo. We saw
spoor but no beasts, but I managed to get a very fine impala,
and arrived in camp as happy as a lord and as tired as I have
ever been. I managed, however, to photograph the two
heads, and then went to bed and slept until very late the
next morning.

Thursday, Oct. 9th. The first thing I saw when I put my
head outside in the morning was three mules instead of the
two which remained to us. The new-comer, of its own free
will, had joined the safari in the night. I rubbed my eyes
and then said : " This must be a gift straight from heaven ! "
— which seemed to cause some amusement in the camp.
Hutton, however, took the affair very seriously, remarking
reprovingly : " Sir, surely you are the very last man to receive
any gift from heaven, straight or otherwise ! " As Hutton
had never been kno\^^l to smile, and would probably consider
any suggestion as to pulling my leg as verging on impiety,
I am afraid he must have been exercising his mind about me,
and that, weighed in his balances, I have somehow been
found wanting. But though it is impossible for a man to be
a hero to his valet at home, his shortcomings might surely be
excused in a temper-trying equatorial country like Central
Africa. In spite of Hutton, and from whatever place it
came, the mule turned out a very useful animal, and was
certainly a godsend in one sense, since it took the place of the
mule that had been mauled by the leopard and which we
should have greatly missed. It had possibly strayed from
some safari or had been left behind sick, and may have been
on the mountain-side for years. It certainly did not seem
at all displeased to get back to civilised company.

I sent the syce out in a hammock with eight men to carry
him, so as to try to find the spot where he had been attacked,

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and then went off with Duirs for another look for those
elusive buffalo. We got on to their spoor all right, and as
it seemed pretty fresh we made up our minds to follow up.
Early in the morning is a good time to go after buffalo, as in
the noontide heat they will probably be lying up in cover.
So we went on and on, over ridges into hollows, through the
thick grass and among the scrub, and finally into the thickets.
This was a risky business, and one had to be constantly on
the qui vive lest some old bull, lurking in a brake, should
come charging down on us before we were aware. But the
day wore on, and still no buffalo. The beasts had probably
winded our camp and moved out of our neighbourhood. The
sun got high, and as all chance of finding them was now gone
we gave it up. Then I got a shot at an impala and a bush-
buck and wounded them both, which did not prevent them
from getting away, although the blood spoor was plentiful
and we followed them for miles. Both were long shots ;
and long shots are not easy in Africa, in spite of the stories
one hears of game killed at five and six hundred yards or
more. Of course anyone who is a shot at all has brought off
an occasional miracle of this kind when forced by unkind
necessity to take a long shot or nothing ; but when it does
happen to come off he thanks his lucky stars if he is a modest
man, and doesn't brag about what after all must have been
largely an accident. It is much easier to get " dead on "
with the tongue than it is with the rifle, especially when all
the plain is shimmering with the heat. Ranges, too, are a
trifle deceptive when one suffers from an imagination. In
any case, I got neither of my two, much to my disgust, for I
wanted the meat, and also because I have a strong objection
to leaving a wounded beast to the fate that inevitably awaits
it in the wilds. So we went back to camp disappointed,
through the usual thunderstorm, with its extraordinarily
vivid contmuous lightning, thunder crashing from all sides
at once, and a deluge of rain which left the levels ankle- deep
in water.

Friday, Oct. lOih. To-day the camp moved out to Makindi,
a sixteen-mile march. We are still on the slopes of the foot-
hills to the north of Kenia, but are gradually descending, our

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present altitude being 6500 feet. At this point we get below
the cedar line and leave the virgin forests behind, much to
my regret. The shade was delightful in the heat of the day.
The trees here are mainly cedars and junipers, and above
these are the bamboo forests where the Kenia elephants are
to be found. There are great numbers of monkeys in the
forest, the most interesting being the famous colobus monkey.
He is a very handsome specimen, black with a long fringe of
white, hair-like whiskers round the face, and a sort of mantle
of long white hair hanging from each flank. He gets his
name from the fact that he is thumbless. There is also a
yellow monkey which I could not place, unless it should be
the yellow baboon. On the other hand it may be a new
species, as I am inclined to think it is. Near all the ponds
and streams there are innumerable butterflies, some of con-
siderable size and magnificent colourings. Sometimes they
rise in absolute clouds.

Outside the forest belt is a stretch of fine pasture-land,
intersected with streams from the hills and dotted with
pools and marshes. Here and there are patches of wood, not
open like the forest belt higher up, but a tangle of under-
growth and creepers. There are no paths, and pushing one's
way through the jungle is fairly hard work. An hour of this
pushing, wriggling, dodging and crawling takes it out of one
more than a day's march across the plains. The air is close
and oppressive, and the smell of the decaying vegetation is
sometimes sickening. The dust is full of spines and spiky
hairs from the grass and undergro\\i:h, and is unpleasant in
the extreme ; and this, with the caterpillars, seems to have
a peculiarly irritating effect, making one tingle and itch all
over.

At the foot of the hills the whole prospect changes, and
we get great open stretches of rank grass gradually merging
into the scrub country. Ploughing through this grass is by
no means easy, and Nature seems to have laid herself out
to manufacture needless discomforts. There are, as usual,
thorns of all kinds and sizes, burrs that stick with unheard-of
tenacity, spiky seeds, spines and hairs innumerable. One's
clothes are soon covered with them, and they seem to display

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a diabolical ingenuity in working their way in to the skin.
Even the blades of grass are covered with stiff, sharp hairs.
The insect life is equally distracting. The ticks are a pest
to man and beast. They are of all sizes, from a tiny red chap
no bigger than a pin's head to a bloated brute the size of a
pea, and they come " not single spies but in battalions."
The grass is alive with them. The boys do not take much
notice of them. Nor do the wild creatures, though some
species of game are literally swarming with them. I have
seen zebra and rhino in which the eyes were surrounded by a
rim of ticks, giving an effect like a pair of horn spectacles.
In the soft skin of the armpit and of the groin, they cling like
barnacles to an old wreck. Travelling in the tick country is
torture to anyone with an irritable skin. Sometimes a boy
is told off as tick-remover- in- ordinary to the company, scrap-
ing them off at intervals from the clothing and flesh. I have
found in practice that the best thing is to apply a little paraffin
on a sponge, which has the effect of making them loose their
hold and drop off. And yet there are men who will go
shooting in Africa in " shorts," with bare knees ; in fact,
many of the settlers adopt this as their ordinary dress.

We rode forward and picked out what we thought to be a
suitable camping ground, and then sat down to watch the
safa,ri arrive. Then, after a wash and some tea, I took my
gun and went off for a stroll to see what might be seen. Here
I discovered the first date-palms, a sign that we were getting
into the tropical belt. I found plenty of traces of game,
including fresh rhino spoor. I was just turning back when
two of the gun-bearers came rushing up in a state of great
excitement, dripping with perspiration, to say that they had
seen a large lion stalking across the plains behind some
rising ground which I had just left. I had only my -360
express, much too light a rifle for lion, but I made my way
cautiously round the hill. When I came near the top of the
rise I dropped on all-fours and crawled along with the
utmost caution. I am certain he could have seen nothing
but the top of my head, but before I could get my rifle up
he had bolted into a dry donga. I might perhaps have had
a running shot at him, but the light was failing and he did

128

Klilisiiriii^,'er.

WiihT P.ii.k.

ON SAFARI

not give me a particularly good target, and I concluded on
the whole that it would be best to wait. I ran back about
three hundred yards and got on the other side of the donga,
thinking that he might perhaps come out there ; and then,
turning round, saw him right out in the open plain, and a fine
big fellow he was. Unluckily he saw me at the same time,
and was off again before I could get in a certain shot. I
determined, however, to try for him, and using my telescopic
sights took very careful aim and fired. He gave a growl,
but the hurt was not sufficient to stop him, and he kept going-
till he reached another small donga and disappeared. By
this time it was dark, and I decided, much against the grain,
that discretion was the better part of valour, and so returned
to camp a safe but disappointed man. He was a really fine
specimen, full-grown, with bushy mane. If he had only given
me a decent shot I might have got him. But your lion is not
a considerate beast. Of course, I can quite understand some
critic at home remarking : "If you wanted the beast so
badly, why didn't you follow him up after you had wounded
him ? " To this I can only reply that it is much safer to
follow up lions from the depths of an arm-chair than through
the jungle in the dark ; and that, knowing a little about
dangerous game from actual experience, I have come to the
conclusion that a man who will follow up a wounded lion in
the dark, through scrub into a dry donga, is a fool who deserves
what he is extremely likely to get. In that opinion most of
the real lion men are likely to agree. It sounds very nice to
talk about playing a sporting game, but even in doing so it
is not necessary to present your opponent with all the aces.
You have to remember that whether cowardly or not under
ordinary conditions, under these circumstances the beast is
about as dangerous as anything can well be ; that he can hide
somehow, I can't explain how, behind a clump of grass
that you would imagine wouldn't afford cover lor a cat ;
that when he does charge he comes like a lightning flash ;
that he can spring fifteen to twenty feet ; that he weighs
round about 5Q0 poumls ; and that lie is far better equipped
by nature for a rough and tumble than yourself. If, re-
membering all these things, you decide to go in and fetch
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AFTER BIG GAME

him out^ — well, good luck to you ! You will want it as cer-
tainly as anything can be certain in this world.

Saturday, Oct. 11th. We started out early this morning to
look for the lion. From the blood spoor on both sides of
the track the -360 bullet must have gone right through him.
This is a testimonial, for what it is worth, to the ineffective-
ness of a small high velocity bullet in stopping big game
unless it strikes in a vital spot. If it does this the consequent
shock is enough to stop anything. If not, the amount of
damage to tissue is not great ; and when, as in this case,
the bullet goes right through the beast, much of its energy is
wasted in carrying on the flight after emergence. Anyhow,
this beast had strength enough to get away, and though I
had a hundred men out the next day looking for his trail, we
could find nothing of him. It is true that the ground here
was baked very hard, and that, apart from the blood at first,
there was little opportunity for spooring. The whole thing
was exasperating, but it is a characteristic example of the
chancy way in which one comes upon lions. One goes out
with a light rifle looking for small game for the larder, and is
suddenly face to face with his Majesty himself, with no
adequate means of dealing with him. Another time one goes
out fully equipped, and does not see so much as a hair of his
mane. On my way back to camp, however, I shot a zebra,
and left him lying, thinking that he might tempt the lion to
remain in the neighbourhood.

Sunday, Oct. 12th. I went out before daylight to the kill
and took up a suitable position to wait for the lion if he
should visit the spot. I lay there till sunrise, but except
for the vultures my zebra attracted nothing. To-day we
moved a mile and a half farther down the creek to look for
rhino in the swamp behind the old camp at Makindi. The
altitude is 6250 feet.

Monday, Oct. ISth. We were out at five this morning.
There was plenty of rhino spoor, and we picked out the biggest
and followed it right up to the forest line. There I found the
brute apparently asleep, standing among some thick bush.
I could not properly see his horn, but judged it to be about
fifteen inches. I put in a -465 bullet behind his head, but

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ON SAFARI

I must have missed the vertebrae, for he gave one squeal
and bolted off through the thiek jungle, carrying everything
before him. I followed as best I could, but he had the better
of me at this game both as regards weight and toughness of
hide, and it was more than I could do to come up with him.
I could just barely see his bulk through the undergrowth, but
it was quite impossible to get a head shot, and I finally had
to give him up and return to camp, quite out of love with
the events of the last two days. When I got back to the
camp I found that the porters who had been sent to Nyeri for
posho had returned. After a rest and some lunch I went out
once more, climbing the ridge to the west of the camp.
Again I found nothing, and turned back again, feeling some-
what sick with myself and everything else. Then, as luck
would have it, I spied a fine eland bull standing about 300
yards away. He had seen me, but evidently concluded that
I was not dangerous at that distance, so stood quietly gazing
at me. I made up my mind that there should be no mistake
this time, and, resting the rifle on the gun-bearer's shoulder,
took very careful aim and fired. To my delight the beast
gave one wild plunge and fell dead. The camp was not far
off, so I sent over for my camera and took two photos of him.
The messenger had, of course, told the camp all about it,
and they turned out wild with excitement. Apparently the
shooting of an eland was something of an event. Possibly
this was because the flesh is very good eating, comparing
very favourably with beef. Indeed I am told that, with the
exception of the bongo, which I never had the luck to taste,
it is the best of all the game meats of East Africa. Anyhow,
after dinner the boys got up one of those symbolic dances
which they reserve for great occasions, the safari bard im-
provising an account of the affair which, although I did not
understand it, 1 somehow gathered was intended to be highly
flattering to my skill as a shot and as a liunter generally.
The whole company joined in as a chorus at the more effective
bits, and finally capped the whole affair by carrying Duirs
and myself shoulder high round the camp to the accompani-
ment of a chorus of " kavoino," I told them tiuit they
should have money in a few days, which was apparently what

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they were waiting for. At any rate it seemed to please
them and, I am thankful to say, ended the evening's enter-
tainment.

The eland was a fine specimen, standing about five feet
at the withers, and must have weighed something round about
half-a-ton. The tuft of hair covering the forehead was
remarkably thick and long, but the horns were comparatively
short though thick, a not uncommon characteristic of old
bulls, which wear them down considerably. As shown by
its colours, it was one of the northern variety, the body
being marked by vertical white stripes. Curiously enough,
the eland seems to be immune from the attentions of the
ticks, and is also, I believe, proof against the fly.

Tuesday, Oct. 14th. I had intended going out early but
felt rather tired, and so had a slack day in camp while Duirs
had a talk with the Kikuyus. They had a long story to tell,
and certainly did not go the shortest way round in telling it,
so that the proceedings lasted nearly all the morning. It
appears that Maji Moto, as they termed Mr Provincial Com-
missioner Lane, had interviewed my porters just before they
returned from Nyeri, and among other thmgs had told them
to demand an increased rate of pay, and to go and see him
on their return so as to tell him what I had done in the
matter. I thought at first that he only wanted that they
should be paid a little more, to which I should have had no
objection, but it seemed, on going further into the question,
as if he were trying to make trouble because these Kikuyu
had not been engaged through him, but as the result of a
direct bargain with the native chief of their tribe, by whom,
as a matter of fact, the rate of payment was settled. How-
ever, to cut a long story short, I finally concluded that he
conceived it his duty to insist upon a uniform rate of payment
for all porters on safaris, on his own right to conduct all
arrangements with the native chiefs, and to stand upon his
dignity when any of these things was done outside his office.
All of which surprised me very much, for I had found him
extremely courteous and obliging.

The trouble was that the Kikuyu, who up to this pomt had
been perfectly satisfied and contented, were now suffering

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ON SAFARI

under a strong sense of injustice. After being told by the
great man of the district that they had a grievance, it wouldn't
have been in human nature, certainly not in African nature,
not to feel it. However, Duirs managed to talk them round
without any increase of pay — an excellent testimonial to his
powers of persuasion. Duirs has missed his vocation ; he
should have been a diplomat. That great question settled,
we finished the day as we had begun it- — by doing nothing.

Hutton was very far from being well, so I insisted on
giving him a strong dose of Epsom salts. As this was the
first physic he had ever taken in his life, and as he conse-
quently had the strongest possible objection to beginning,
this was another matter requiring diplomacy. This time I
was the diplomat. He attributed his trouble to the posho
which had replaced his native porridge, and which he de-
clared " upset him." I never noticed, however, any partic-
ular symptoms of dislike, or want of appetite, on his part.

Wednesday, Oct. 15th. This morning Duirs and I started
off early after lions, taking with us a couple of gun-bearers
with our second rifles. Unfortunately we saw no lions, but
after [a long tramp through the scrub we came across a big
rhino standing staring around him on the open plain. He
was too far off for anything like a decent shot, so we walked
straight towards him. As all sportsmen are aware, the rhino-
ceros has very poor sight. He looks straight in front of him
and sees very little at that. I should say that at two hundred
yards he is to all intents and purposes completely blind, and
he might just as well be so at much shorter distances. So
the common practice is to walk straight towards him. And
this we did, taking care to keep the wind blowing a little
awaj'^ from him so that he should not get our scent. For the
rhino's nose is as keen as his eyes are dull, and under ordinary
circumstances the scent of a man, and particularly |of a
European, will send him scampering.

When he is'.wounded or in a tight corner it is quite another
matter. Then it is time to look out, and a man soon dis-
covers what his nerves are worth when he has to stand up
to the charge of an angry rhino. At such a time the beast
seems possessed of a sort of blind fury that makes him

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perfectly reckless of odds or of injury. He has been known
to charge a train on the Uganda Railway. We got some way
towards our rhino when the wind, which was very shifty,
betrayed us, and our rhino turned tail, breaking into a sort
of lunging lope which took him over the ground about as
fast as a horse could trot, his tail sticking straight up into the
air in the most comical fashion. We pelted after him on foot
as fast as we could go, thinking every minute that he would
stop. But he must have got a bad scare, for he gave us a
fair two-mile burst before coming to a stop near a dry water-
course about a quarter of a mile from us. By this time I
was pretty well blown. He did not stop here, however, but
made off once more, we following as before. This time, after
a short run, he seemed to make up his mind to see the thing
through, and turned suddenly, faced round towards us and
seemed to be making futile efforts to see us. It was perfectly
obvious that he could not see us, although we were quite in
the open. But by this time my lungs were panting furiously,
so I sat down on the ground to try and get the steadiest shot
I could under the circumstances. It was all I could do to
prevent the muzzle of the rifle from making a figure of eight
on his hide. Successful shooting under these conditions was
hardly to be anticipated ; but I managed to bring the '465 to
bear and fired. There was the usual squeal, and then Master
Rhino began to spin round and round in a sort of circle. I
couldn't for the life of me imagine what he was after, but I
have since thought that, roused to exasperation by the sudden
pain, he was making frantic efforts to get our wind and have
his revenge on whatever it was that had hurt him. Duirs
sent a -450 bullet into him, and that steadied him with a
vengeance, for he came charging full pelt downhill on us,
snorting like an engine letting off steam and looking particu-
larly nasty. There is a business-like air about a charging
rhinoceros which is most impressive. He weighs something
more than a ton, his little eyes glare furiously and the tip of
his horn looks very unpleasant. Duirs and I separated a
little so that he might come down between us. I changed
my -465 for the -360 Fraser, and put three solid bullets into
his chest. Duirs gave him two more from a -450. By this

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ON SAFARI

time he had had quite enough of our artillery practice, and
I finished him with two more shots from the -360. I was
greatly pleased with the way in which this rifle checked the
rush ; but it is astonishing how much stopping some of these
big beasts require when the first shot has not been particularly
well placed. When struck through a vital spot, such as the
heart, both lungs or the brain, he is usually put out of action
at once ; but even if desperately wounded anywhere else he
will fight furiously or gallop off for miles. In these cases he
may be hit again and again without apparent effect, until he
finally collapses from exhaustion or the loss of blood. I
imagine that if the first shot strikes a great nerve centre, the
initial shock is a paralysing one. If he is hit anywhere else
this effect is absent, and subsequent wounds, when he is under
intense excitement or making supreme physical efforts, hardly
count at all. I refer to this because there is a great deal of
talk about the " shocking " powers of modern big-bore, high
velocity rifles, and their phenomenal effectiveness in stopping
big game. I do not know how much of this is due to manu-
facturers anxious for the reputation of their rifles. Of course
any man who has felt the kick of one of these, say a -465 with
its heavy charge of 75 grains of cordite and a bullet of nearly
an ounce and a quarter, will be quite willing to believe any
stories about shock. His shoulder ought to afford him all
the evidence he wants. But I am sure that a light rifle, pro-
vided the shot only strikes in the proper spot, will give all
the shock that the occasion requires ; it will be enough to
stop anything. If the shot is a bad one the biggest bore in
existence would not do it. So that after all we come back to
" the man behind the gun." I suppose there are occasions
when the big bore will prove the better. It unquestionably
does more damage to tissue, and in the case of a doubtful
shot this is an important matter. My lion is probably a case
in point. I had evidently drilled him through and through
with the -SCO and yet he got clean away. It is at least possible
that had I shot him in the same place with, say, the '465, I
might have got him.

However, the -360 did the rhino's business well enough.
I took some photos of him, and after tlie boys had finished

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AFTER BIG GAME

with the carcass we left it as a bait for lions. Hutton, who
had heard the firing, now appeared on the scene, very excited
and very warm. He had evidently been hurrying somewhat,
and as he saw me remarked that he was too old for this sort
of thing. I asked him how old he was, and he said : " Forty-
five." "Well," said I, " I was born in July 1868 " ; where-
upon he commented, with, I fancy, a suspicion of envy, that
I was "gey supple." From head to tail this rhino measured
12 feet 4 inches ; his front horn was 24| inches and the back
one 18| inches.

Thursday, Oct. 16th. We started out very early, at 4 a.m.,
for the spot where we had left the carcass of the rhino, hoping
that we should find some lions there at their feeding-time.
But there was no sign of anything, so we returned to the camp
again at eleven. I wrote some letters and arranged to send
the Kikujoi to Meru in the morning for a fresh supply of posho.
Then I packed a box and settled to start out in the morning
after kudu. These are very scarce here, though there are
plenty in the lower areas near Voi and Tsavo.

Friday, Oct. 17th. The boys got ready early for the march
to Meru. We had one sick man in camp and I wanted them
to take him along with them, thinking he would be better
attended to there than in camp. But they refused ; I then
supposed, because of the trouble. Afterwards I found out
that the native has a great objection to having any dealings
with anyone who is sick, especially if there is reason to an-
ticipate that he will die. As they were quite obstinate and
I had made up my mind too, there was something like a
deadlock. This is one of the occasions when a safari requires
careful handling. One cannot force the men to do what they
are firmly determined they will not do. Even the kiboko
is useless unless one is prepared to kiboko the whole crowd,
which is scarcely a practicable proceeding. Finally I took
away the two days' provisions with which they had been
furnished for the march to Meru, and told them to clear out
altogether. This seemed to give them some food for thought.
They held a palaver among themselves and at last came to
the conclusion that they would give in. So we got the sick
man comfortably settled for the journey, and all was well

136

Rhinoceros.

Clivntor Kijilu.

ON SAFARI

again ; though we did not get them started until nine. As
soon as they were fairly under way, Duirs and I went after
our kudu, taking the route over the ridge to a large open
valley surrounded by mountains. A shower of rain had
fallen in the night, so that there was enough water for us at
least for the one day, and we determined to make this our
camping ground for the night. Having settled the spot,
Duirs went off in one direction and I took the other. Neither
of us, however, found any traces of kudu, but I came across
fresh buffalo and rhino spoor and managed to shoot a water-
buck. Then, quite unexpectedly, when I was thinking of
anything else in the world, I walked straight into a rhino in
the midst of the thick bush. Of course, coming across a rhino,
however unexpectedly, in the African wilds, doesn't give one
quite the same kind of shock as if one had turned a corner
and run up against him in, say, Princes Street, Edinburgh.
But it is quite exciting to meet him anywhere. He is so
apt to make a fool of himself, to get into a flurry and to do
extraordinary things. The first of these is to snort and the
next is to rush. If he has happened to wind you the rush is
certain to be in your direction, for all wild animals charge
up wind. Should he catch sight of you, as when close he
might very well do, it is as well to look out for trouble. If
he does not, he is as likely to go for anything else in the
neighbourhood as for yourself. This is not necessaril}^ because
he is in a specially bad temper, but just on general principles.
He has scented danger, and anything in his path, as, for
example, a tree or a bush, is likely to have a bad time. If in
the midst of it he should happen to connect you with his cause
of annoyance, you are likely to have a bad time as well.
These purposeless rushes are largely responsible for the
rhino's reputation for ferocity, and for many travellers' tales
of hairbreadth escapes from his charge. In the Guaso Nyiro
district, so far as my experience went, the rhinoceros showed
himself on the whole a beast of peaceable disposition, and
with one overpowering desire to get away, which is exactly
what this one managed to do. On this occasion I was a
pacifist too. It is not desirable to take liberties with a
rhino in the bush or to thwart any attempt on his part to

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clear out. He is so amazingly quick on his feet, and there is
such a lot of him to stop. I have heard it said that if a rhino-
ceros does charge, all that one has to do is to stand quite
still, which is not so easy as it soimds, till he is within a few
yards, say five or six, and then to step quietly aside. The
brute will pass straight on without noticing. I have never
tried this experiment, and I don't want to. Twenty-five
yards is my limit for charging rhinos. If he should pass
that, I do my best to stop him from getting any nearer.
However, this one bolted, and as I have said, I was by no
means sorry. I am bound to say that the rhino is one of
the minor plagues of Africa. When you first see one you are
mightily pleased. When you have been a week or two in
scrub infested with the brutes you begin to regard them as
more than a nuisance. You are for ever either running up
against them or else imagining that you may do so. It is
very trying work for the nerves. The safari doesn't like him
either. The line is such a long one that, however blind the
beast may be, he is bound to hit it somewhere. Then down
go the loads, and off go the boys full pelt for the nearest
shelter. Unfortunately, in Central Africa, the only avail-
able place of refuge is a thorn-tree. And a thorn-tree has
thorns all over, and neither ascent nor descent is to be
managed without much tribulation and a good deal of damage
to both skin and temper.

Saturday, Oct. 18. We left camp at 6 a.m., striking west-
ward. At 9.30 we mounted the crest of the ridge and began
a gradual descent into another valley charmingly situated
among the hills. But we could see no water, and as the pros-
pect of finding any seemed to be at least uncertain, I decided
to send one of the gun-bearers with a small party back to our
last night's camping place to bring along what little we had
left. Meanwhile the safari proceeded down the valley, and
I went off alone to look for kudu. This is typical kudu
country. The orthodox method is to choose a commanding
position on the hill, whence, yourself invisible, you have a
good view of the opposite slope of a valley, and then search
that slope minutely by the aid of the glasses. For some
reason or other, kudu are most often found on a slope. In

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this case I was rewarded by the sight of a fine bull, and de-
termined to stalk him. Stalking, by the way, is not so easy
as it sounds. To get a reasonably safe shot under East
African conditions one must get within, say, about 200 yards.
But what with the heat shimmer and the deceptive distances,
it is not always easy to judge your 200 yards ; and fifty
yards too much or too little in your estimate will result in
your bullet going over or under the beast, or at least in hitting
it anywhere but where you want to. If you could only stand
up you would be in a better position to get the range. But
as it is, you are hardly able to move any part of your body
except your eyes. Then you have to consider how the wind
blows in relation to the lie of the country, and make up your
mind whether you will attempt to approach the quarry where
he is, or whether you will wait a bit until he moves into a
better position. In this case I got a fairly good line and
began to stalk him very carefully, taking advantage of every
bit of cover, such as rises, thickets, bushes, tufts of grass and
the like. It was a ticklish bit of work, for the wind was not
really favourable and was decidedly shifty, but I finally
managed to get within about 80 j^ards. Then the wind
veered a bit and he got a whiff of my scent, and went off at
full pelt with his herd, appearing for a second on the crest of
the rise in the most tantalising way and sinking again into a
hollow before one could aim. The ground was so rocky and
uneven that although I watched with the closest attention,
I could not get a shot until they were about 400 yards away,
a distance far too great for my liking. However, it was the
only chance he had given me, so I put three bullets from the
•3G0 into him and dropped him. Then, marking down the
place where he fell, I went back to meet Duirs and send off
for the mules. To my excessive annoyance, we could not
find the boys. This was quite a serious matter, as they carried
our food and cold tea ; and whoever has done a day's journey
in a thirsty land will readily understand our feelings. There
was nothing for it but to push back to the water-hole. By
the time we got there my thirst had grown to such a pitch
that the draught of lukewarm and more or less muddy water
was the finest drink I have liad in my life. The syces turned

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up with the mules at 5 a.m., their excuse being that they
became frightened, and having Ht fires to protect the mules,
they had themselves taken refuge in a tree.

Sunday, Oct. IQth. After last night's experiences, I felt
somewhat tired and did not go far from camp. I shot two
klipspringers, which came in very useful for food. We also
saw a number of kudu cows but no bulls.

Monday, Oct. 20th. I started at 6 a.m. to go back to the
camp, and shot three Granti on the way. We met two
Somalis with two mules and a horse ; they had come down
from the border with a herd of 500 cows and were pushing
on to Nyeri. They said that they had had no food for days,
so we supplied them. Before they left I bought one of their
mules for 300 rupees, and was very pleased at having got a
bargain until I remembered, too late, that they had come
through the fly country, and then I began to doubt. My
apprehensions, unfortunately, proved correct, for the wretched
mule speedily showed the symptoms of fly sickness and died
a short time afterward.

Tuesday, Oct. 21st. I started off by myself, taking the
small tent and a little food. I crossed the ridge, camped in
a dry water-course, and sent the porters back to the main
camp. In the evening I went through the forest, over the
hills. The bush had been recently burned and I could find
nothing. The next morning, however, I had scarcely started
out before I ran across an old rhino, who seemed disposed to
dispute my right-of-way. I didn't want to interfere with him
as he was not quite the kind of beast I wanted, the horn
being rather short ; however, as he proved aggressive, coming
within twenty-five yards, which, as I have said, is my limit of
safety, and showing an evident disposition to come farther,
I landed him an ounce ball in the shoulder and another below
the eye. There was a very pretty rumpus for a few seconds,
snorting, squealing, stamping and crashing of bushes, but in
the end he made off, only to drop about 150 yards farther on.
He w^as a very old fellow, with an exceptionally thick hide.
The horn was 17 inches. His height was 5 feet 4 inches at
the shoulder, 8 feet 3 inches in girth, while from the nose to
the tip of the tail he measured 11 feet 6 inches in a straight

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line, and along the curve 12 feet 7 inches. His forearm was
3 feet 3 inches. On the whole he was a little larger than the
first rhino, though his horn was smaller. As I have said, I
wish he had left me alone. My game licence included only-
two rhino, and I would have preferred this patriarch to die
of a green old age. But your rhino is an impossible beast.
He is a survival from prehistoric times, when life meant eating
and drmking and sleeping, and anything that disturbed either
of these had to be fought. They say that when the rhino
has eaten and drunk his fill, he will stand motionless for hours.
Sometimes he hides behind a bush, and sometimes, with the
aid of the surrounding country, gives his celebrated imitation
of an ant-hill. This is his day's work, and when disturbed in
it he is naturally resentful. Let him wind you, and he is
head dovm in a minute, charging madly in fright or in sheer
cussedness. I think there is more fright than ferocity in it,
but that doesn't make the danger any the less. He may
start in an instinctive blind desire to follow your scent, but
when he gets, as this one did, within twenty-five yards or so,
and can see you plainly, the flurry is apt to become a vicious
charge. Then it is time to take steps, for a charging rhino
is surprisingly nimble and decidedly dangerous. At any
rate I never felt inclined to let one come any nearer, whether
it was charging me or merely making a wild dash. Even if
his first intentions are harmless, there is no certainty that he
might not change his mind. And he does not look particu-
larly reassuring. "A horn on his nose, piggy eyes and few
manners "• — thus Kipling describes him ; and that about
hits the mark. All of which is an apology for downing a
beast I didn't want to kill.

I left the carcass to the boys to take off the trophy, and
went off through the hills again, but saw nothing save a reed-
buck, which I shot. I returned to camp about 5 p.m., and
having a touch of fever went straight to bed, after the usual
rest and dose of quinine. Next day I felt much better but
concluded that I should be none the worse for a rest, and so
remained in camp. Hutton, however, went out for a stroll
to look for a rhino which one of the boys was supposed to
have seen. Finally, as he did not return, Duirs went out to

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look for him. He found him all right, but neither of them
saw the rhmo. Heavy rain began in the afternoon, and
continued all night and until nearly noon on the 24th. I
was still feeling very weak, but managed to climb up the
mountain-side in the afternoon. However, I saw nothing
worth shooting and returned early to camp.

For the next three days it rained almost incessantly. I
drove a creek for bushbuck without seeing any, but on the
way home got a steinbuck. We moved down the river,
through a thin drizzle. The route was almost impassable.
We camped at Gorge Camp (5120 feet), and after lunch I
went out and shot a Granti with 24|-inch horns. Then we
broke camp and marched over the hills, still through a nasty
drizzle, following a new route to get down on to the plains.
The scenery was very beautiful, but the going was extremely
rough. We made camp at 5 p.m. on the Makindi river (3950
feet). We have now left the foot hills of Kenia, and the cedar
forests lie far behind and above us. The temperature is
much higher ; the plains are covered with a pale, bleached-
looking grass, and the soil is dry and crumbly. For the
greater part it is a sort of soft volcanic ash, which the
rain converts into an indescribable mud, very soft and
sticky, into which the mules sink over the fetlocks and the
men to their ankles. Heavy rain converts the whole area
into a swamp. As for vegetation, there is an occasional
palm, a sort of cactus-like shrub, and a particularly un-
inviting scattered growth of thorn scrub. These thorns were
of every conceivable type. The mimosa thorn is so plentiful
that it is said that all the lions killed have festering sores in
their paws due to them. There is the camel thorn with its
little hooked spikes which tear where they touch, the wait-a-
bit, and various others whose one purpose seems to be to
make life a misery.

Tuesday, Oct. 28th. Still raining. We did not break
camp until 9 a.m. Then we marched to Lone Hill on the
Ngara Ngara river, where we pitched our tents at an
altitude of 3500 feet. I went out in the afternoon to look
for buffalo, but found none ; nor was I any more successful
on the next day, though I found plenty of spoor ; and so

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had to return to camp empty-handed and thoroughly
tired.

Thursday, Oct. 30th. I went out again very early to look
for buffalo. I followed them up this time to their lair, break-
ing through the thick thorn bush with great difficulty. But
when we got within twenty or thirty feet a calf winded us
and broke away. It had evidently been lying asleep some
distance behind the herd, which its sudden rush immediately
stampeded. Perhaps this was just as well, for the under-
growth of grass and scrub was here so thick that it was
impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of us. As may
be imagined, ground of this type is not the safest for hunting
the buffalo, who is, if not the most dangerous, certainly one
of the most dangerous beasts among the big game of Africa.
In view of the fact that in most cases he will have to be
followed into thick cover of the type I have just described,
and further, that he is in the habit of going about in herds,
so that one may easily get involved with the crowd, he may
probably be considered even more dangerous than either
elephant or lion. Finally, he is very difficult to kill, and will
on occasion go off with quite a quantity of lead distributed
about his person.

The problem is made more difficult by the fact that the
hunter requires only bulls, and bulls with a good spread
of horn at that. It not infrequently happens that after
forcing his way through thorn and grass to within shooting
distance, he may find that the great black bulk he can see
indistinctly through the dense growth belongs to a cow or
an immature bull, and that all his trouble and skill have gone
for nothing. Then he has to worm his way out again with all
the same precautions as he observed in following up, lest they
should hear or wind him and the whole herd come crashing
through the forest in his direction. It need scarcely be
added that the hunter who finds himself in the path of a
stampeding herd of buffalo is in an exceedingly awkward
position. lie may possibly get in two shots before they are
down upon him, but there is no certainty about stopping even
one charging buffalo with two shots, let alone a herd. The
great horns with their widc-spreadmg bosses form an efficient

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protection for the brain, and a body shot is always more or
less a matter of luck, particularly in the jungle where any
twig may deflect the bullet. However, in this case, I managed
my retreat successfully, with nothing more than the ordinary
discomfort and fatigue due to my exertions in the dense
growth. The next morning I got up early and went to the
east of the camp, but saw nothing more exciting than three-
day-old spoor. However, I shot a zebra and a gerenuk
before returning utterly fagged and fully determined to take
a rest on the morrow. Three days in succession after buffalo
in this sort of country is enough to satisfy any man who
isn't a glutton for work.

Saturday, Nov. 1st. I kept to my resolve and stayed in
camp, taking the opportunity to make a much-needed round
of inspection to see that the tents, stores and the porters'
belongings generally were in good order. This is always
amusing. The boys invariably have the oddest assortment
of things stowed away in their kits, among them generally
being some that you recognise as your own property, and
their excuses for the possession of them are often as in-
genious as comical. I finally went out with my gun towards
four o'clock, but came back without firing a shot. Still,
my trip was not quite fruitless, for I found a spot where a
lion had recently killed an oryx. The birds were busy as
usual, squabbling and fighting over the carcass. As I
watched, a striped hyaena slunk up in his furtive way and
drove the birds away, selected the tit-bits among the bones,
and trotted off to an adjoining clump of bushes to regale
himself upon them at his leisure. I could have dropped him
easily enough, but I was on the look out for the lion, which
was probably not very far off, and it was not desirable to
take any risks of frightening him away. Moreover, the
hyaena is an ugly brute and makes by no means a fascinating
trophy. If one kills him it is out of a sense of justice, for his
nature and habits correspond with his appearance. He is
cowardly in the extreme and feeds mainly on carrion. In
inhabited areas this gives him an undesirable reputation as a
body-snatcher. He is undertaker-in-ordinary to many of the
native tribes, and where burial is in vogue, does not hesitate

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ON SAFARI

to disturb the graves. He has amazingly powerful jaws and
can crack very large bones with the utmost ease, so that he
manages to find an excellent meal in a carcass after the
original hunter and the birds of prey have finished with it.
This striped variety is by no means common in British East
Africa, though I am told it is found in considerable numbers
in Syria, Palestine, Persia and India. The ordinary African
hysena is the spotted variety. This is the largest of the three
species and abounds in the centre and south of the continent.

I did not see the lion, but I followed his spoor for a con-
siderable way, and had the curiosity to measure the distance
he covered in his stride. This, when the beast was near its
prey and probably bounding to catch up with it, was 14 feet
6 inches. This is the length of the stride from forepaw to
forepaw, and not the distance of his final spring. When
leaping on his prey the lion must undoubtedly cover a much
greater distance. Sir A. E. Pease, in his book on the lion,
gives forty feet as a not unusual distance. I am bound to
say that I have never seen anything to justify this ; but he
is undoubtedly an authority on the subject, few men having
had so great an experience in hunting lions. In spite of all
my care I could see nothmg of the beast, although I kept
the keenest look out. It is always desirable to keep a wary
eye about, when stalking lions. One is never quite sure
when the beast might take it into his head to do a little
stalking on his own account ; and when he does so he rarely
makes much noise about it.

Sunday, Nov. 2nd. We moved down the Ngara Ngara to
within a mile and a half of its junction with the Guaso Nyiro.
We called this "Junction Camp." The elevation was 3200
feet, and I saw the first Dom palms growing to-day. The
Guaso Nyiro is between seventy and eighty yards wide here,
and very swift. The banks are lined with a tall weeping
variety of mimosa, and behind this lies the river jungle. It
is not very wide or very dense, but it provided a very welcome
change from the wretched scrub. There are plenty of palms
and acacias, many of them of noble size. The river is very
shallow, with numbers of low islands round which the current
rushes swiftly. These are mostly covered with reeds and

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papyrus, and make a cliarming sight against the green-
fringed banks. The country round is a mass of low hills,
and the course of the river among them is naturally a most
devious one, and is further diversified by occasional sand-
banks and rocks. The water seemed to be very dirty, but
I discovered later that a reddish-brown was its normal tint
and that it was nevertheless quite sweet and drinkable.
It proved also to be one of the few African rivers in which it
is safe to bathe. In general the water is too muddy to make
the idea of a bath at all attractive. Further, cold bathing
is not a habit to be encouraged among Europeans in Africa.
It is apt, at times, when one is fatigued by a hard day in the
hot sun, to have very unpleasant consequences. To risk a
chill in tropical Africa is to ask for trouble with something
like a certainty of getting it. And the Guaso Nyiro, though
from its shallowness one would have expected it to have a
decent temperature, was abominably cold. The icy streams
from the top of Kenia were too much even for the equatorial
sun. Consequently I refrained from tempting fortune, but
the boys were not so backward, and after I had shot a croco-
dile to encourage the others to keep out of the way, they were
soon splashing away to their hearts' content. Whether as
a result of my warning shot or not, I cannot say, but the
crocodiles here, though numerous enough, gave us very little
trouble.

The two chief game animals on the river bank are the
water-buck and the impala. The former is often seen singly
or in small herds. The herds would probably be the does,
the bucks seeming to prefer a sort of bachelor existence and to
go off on their own. The water-buck is a fine, heavy-looking
beast, standing about four feet at the withers, and is wonder-
fully speedy and sure of foot. Mr Selous says that their
favourite places are among steep hills, often at a considerable
distance from water ; but my experience goes to show that
the love of water from which they derive their name is very
strong. I have constantly seen herds feeding knee or even
belly deep in streams and swamps, devouring the water
plants, but have not met them in the upland regions at all.
I shot one here for the men's food. The flesh would probably

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ON SAFARI

not appeal to a gourmet, being tough, coarse, stringy and
generally unpalatable. However, that did not appear to
make any difference to the boys, who stripped the carcass in
style and speedily finished it down to the bones. We got an
impala for our share, and found it not at all bad eating. It
is very interesting to watch a herd of impala from a little
distance. They have a curious habit of stamping then* feet
when disturbed, making a quaint "Honk, honk!" The
boys were very jolly at night. For one thing they were full
fed, and that is much to an African. Moreover, they had
finished with the interminable scrub ; there was a prospect
of a few days' rest from the tyramiy of the load ; there was
a fine camp and plenty of wood for the fire. So they were
content, and signified the same in the usual way, with musical
honours. I had this time taken the precaution to pitch my
own tent some distance from the native quarters and the
noise did not sound so bad as usual. Perhaps I was beginning
to get used to the tune ; for there was only one. I managed
to bear it with equanimity for the first few thousand repeti-
tions, and then put a peremptory stopper on the proceedings.

One great episode of our day was the visit of some natives
from a neighbouring village. They were Samburu, one of
the least civilised of the Central African peoples. It was
the first time I had ever seen any of them. Like the
Wanderobo, they are said to be very skilful hunters, and
plucky enough to face any beast, even attacking the elephant
fiercely with their spears. If this is so, they are very different
from most of the tribes, who are certainly not overburdened
with this sort of courage. Those who visited our camp were
not particularly favourable specimens of humanity, being
two wizened, dried-up -looking old men who brought us some
goat's milk in gourds. Contrary to our expectation, this was
very good and quite sweet ; for the negro as a rule prefers
his milk sour and as near solid as he can get it.

Monday, Nov. Srd. I made up my mind to rest in camp
to-day and start down the Guaso Nyiro to-morrow or the
next day, and then to go up the Isiola after lion and perhaps
buffalo. The weather is very good, not too hot, and yet far
warmer than we have been accustomed to lately on the

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slopes of Kenia. There I always rode in my top-coat and
generally with a muffler round my neck, and in the mornings
and at night it was distinctly cold. Here it is just comfort-
ably warm, and one is able to go about unburdened by too
many clothes. On Tuesday I shot an impala and an oryx.
There are some fine specimens of the latter here. They come
down to the river to drink, sometimes in considerable numbers.
They look very fine too, big, upstanding, beautiful beasts,
with their straight sword-like horns flashing in the sunlight
like spears or bayonets carried at the slope. I also got a
Granti, which is a sort of bigger edition of the " Tommy,"
except that the horns are finer than those of any other
gazelles, good specimens reaching to about 30 inches. Those
of the " Tommy " rarely exceed 15 inches. The latter has
a characteristic, dark, horizontal band on the flanks, separat-
ing the fawn of his coat from the white. Another quaint
characteristic of Tommy is his habit of continually wagging
his taO. He seems totally unable to keep it still even for a
moment. I also got a 12 -foot crocodUe, a pretty fair average
specimen. There are plenty of them on the sandbanks here,
lying half in and half out of the water, basking in the full
sunshine or sleeping with open jaws. The only way to get
these brutes is to aim just behind the ear opening. Unless
the shot reaches the brain or cuts the spinal cord in the
region of the neck, it is not fatal, and the beast wriggles off
into deep water and sinks to the bottom.

Wednesday, Nov. 5. This was another rest day. A party
of the boys started off down the river to Archer's Post for
more posho. I took the light rifle and went out for a walk.
As luck would have it, I came across a very fine impala and
determined that I would get him. He was, of course, with
his herd ; for the impala, unlike the water-buck, is distinctly
Mohammedan in his relations with the opposite sex, and takes
the greatest care of his harem. These are very suspicious,
and any sudden movement on my part would have sent the
whole lot scampering. And when the impala runs there is
no possibility of mistake about it. He is the cleanest runner
and the best jumper I have ever seen. A herd in full course,
covering the ground without the slightest appearance of

148

Impala.

f Irrcinik', or Wiillcr's (lazol

ON SAFARI

effort and negotiating all obstacles with the same easy grace,
is a charming sight. Still it was not a sight I was anxious
to see to-day, so I started to stalk the herd in the most
circumspect fashion. Unfortunately, just as I had got into
a position which would have given me a fair shot, the does
saw me, and I had to stop motionless where I was. It
happened to be the top of a rock practically surrounded with
scrub, and there I waited, hardly daring to wink, for what
seemed an interminable time, with the midday sun blazing
doA\Ti upon me and the scrub around shutting off any possible
breath of air. But there was nothing else for it, and so I
lay and grilled. I fortunately managed to escape a sun-
stroke, but I felt very giddy, sick and uncomfortable before I
got my chance. And then I missed, probably as a result of
the grilling I had had. Off they went full pelt ; but I was
determined not to be beaten and followed as fast and as
carefully as I could. It was not until 1.30, however, that
I finally got the impala, after a morning of the hottest work
I have ever had. But the trophy was well worth the trouble.
The ordinary impala's horns run to about 15 or 16 inches.
These were both longer, and had the very fine spread of 27|
inches. The horns are lyrate in shape — that is to say, they
are set closely together at the base and spread outward in a
kind of ogee curve, forming a shape like a lyre, and the
amount of this spread is one of the chief points of the trophy.

I got back to camp at five o'clock after a most tiring day.
On the way I shot a gerenuk. He was browsing on the
leaves of a tree, standing on his hind legs with his forepaws
planted against the trunk. This animal, " Waller's gazelle,"
is one of the quaintest of the tribe. An excessively long neck
gives it the air of a miniature giraffe, and its horns, instead
of sweeping in a graceful curve, bend sharply back at the
tip into a kind of hook. It has a curious broad dark band
running dowTi the middle of its back. Its movements are
as awkward as its appearance. In place of the free, swift,
effortless bound of the impala, it has a sort of camel-like trot
with its long neck stretched awkwardly out in front.

The next day we moved down the Guaso Nyiro to its
junction with tiic Isiola, a distance of about eight miles ;

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AFTER BIG GAME

the elevation here was about 3100 feet. Here I shot a dik-
dik for our supper. This is the quaintest and tiniest member
of the deer tribe. He stands less than a foot high, has legs
no thicker than a penholder, and may weigh something less
than a good hare.

Friday, Nov. 7th. We went on to Newman's camp,
" Campi yanyana yanga," and pitched our tents on the spot
where that famous explorer and ivory hunter had his head-
quarters, under the shade of a clump of very fine mimosa.
Newman seems to have impressed his personality very
strongly on the native tribes of Central Africa, who still refer
to him with reverential awe, and with something as near
affection as the native can be expected to display for anything
outside his immediate appetites and interests. It is the
more curious that he bore the reputation of being essenti-
ally misanthropic, a man who hated society and was never
so happy as when alone. But it is a fact that this man who
avoided his fellows, and finally died by his own hand, is now
an object of something like reverence. It is fairly safe to
prophesy that in a few years to come his name will figure
among the tribal deities of the Borani and the Samburu.
One interesting fact which may throw some light on his
unhappy end is that he never wore anjrthing on his head to
protect him from the sun save a soft cap.

Walking out a little distance from the camp I found the
spoor of a big buffalo bull, which had apparently come down
the Isiola. I followed it for some time, and repeated the
process next morning, starting off at four o'clock a.m. to do
it, but got nothing but my trouble for my pains. Spoor
there was in plenty, but no sign of any buffalo in the flesh.
However, I managed to bring down a decent impala. The
porters having returned from Archer's Post with the posho,
there is great joy in the camp. Wliat is more to the purpose,
we are now in a position to move on up the Isiola where, if
rumour speaks truly, we are likely to find some excellent
opportunities for sport.

Sunday, Nov. 9th. Duirs and I started off once again after
buffalo, and after a long and tiring march across the open
plain we came across the spoor of a big bull, who had been

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feeding during the night, crossing and recrossing a pretty
little stream which meandered through this great plain. We
spent hours in following it up, losing it on one side of the
stream and then picking it up again on the other. At last,
however, we found his tracks lead into the forest. I took up
a position where I was well hidden by the scrub, and Duirs
went on into the forest to try and head the beast back toward
me. I did not know exactly what he proposed to do, but he
finally took up a position not very far from me, and sent three
gun-bearers, excellent trackers, into the forest to head and
turn the beast. This they were not long in doing, for I very
quickly heard a snort, and in less than no time an enormous
animal, his great horns lying right down over his withers,
came crashing out of the forest along an old elephant track.
He passed fairly close to me and I gave him the contents of my
•465. This failed to stop him, and then, to my surprise, two
shots rang out on my right about a hundred yards away.
This was Duirs, who was posted at the edge of the under-
growth. He also failed to stop the animal, which dashed
across a ridge, forded the river, and was speedily hidden in
the forest. He was evidently badly hit, as there was plenty
of blood spoor. We followed for a considerable time and
then reluctantly gave it up. It was getting dusk, and we
were some distance from our camp. Further, we had had
nothing to eat since four in the morning, and were very tired
with a most fatiguing day. The beast might have led us for
miles, as the vitality of the buffalo, even when sorely wounded,
is amazing. Moreover, tracking a wounded buffalo through
forest and undergrowth is quite exciting enough in the day-
light ; in the dusk it is any odds on the buffalo. When
wounded he is particularly vicious, and is probably the most
cunning of all the beasts of the jungle. He has one playful
habit of turning aside from the track, making a detour back-
wards and then hiding beside the track. The hunter, who
imagines his quarry is far ahead, is likely to be suddenly and
unpleasantly surprised at finding the positions reversed, and
that he is being stalked by the buffalo. The situation is
likely to develop with a sudden swift charge, equally diffi-
cult to evade or to stop. In fact, stopping a charging

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buffalo is one of the most awkward problems a big-game
shooter is likely to have to face. In the first place the animal
is extraordinarily tenacious of life, and in the second it is a
matter of extreme difficulty to get in a sure shot. The buffalo
charges with his head held high, not low down as he is gener-
ally shown in illustrations. The enormous bosses of the
horns form an effective armour for his brain. It is possible
to stop him if one can hit the line of division between the
horns, but this is by no means easy when the beast is charging
down full pelt, and is almost impossible in an imcertain light.
The chest shot, the only one really available, is a chancy one
at best. At any rate we chose discretion as our motto, and
made the best of our weary way toward camp, leaving behind
us, as we thought, the very monarch of buffaloes. Fortunately
this forecast was not borne out by events, the beast being so
sorely wounded that he did not go far, so I got my trophy
after all, one of the finest ever obtained. Many sportsmen
consider the buffalo as the most dangerous of all the wild
game. Others, with equal experience, take the opposite
view. The Hon. F. J. Jackson, who has had a wide ex-
perience in Central Africa, says that "it is the pluckiest,
and when wounded the most cunning and savage, of all game
that is considered dangerous." But Mr Selous, one of the
great hunters of the world, declares that " the Cape buffalo
(Bos Cajfer) is not a naturally vicious or ferocious animal."
The reader may make his own choice. Who shall decide
when doctors disagree ? Certainly not I. But I know
from practical experience that buffalo - hunting is quite
risky enough to supply all the excitement that the ordinary
sportsman requires. In dealing with this question there are
certain special points which deserve to be taken into con-
sideration. The beast stands anywhere between five and
six feet high at the shoulder. He is short in the leg, thick in
the body, and weighs something between 2000 and 3000
pounds. And this heavy lumbering brute can move. On the
plains it takes quite a good horse to keep ahead of him ;
and in the thicket his charge is like lightning. Most of the
casualties which arise in the course of buffalo-hunting are
due to a sudden swift charge from a bull lying in ambush

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or breaking away from a stampeding herd. His horns (I
am speaking of bulls, for no one shoots cows except by
accident) may, in a good head, have a spread of from 40 to
50 inches. Those in my specimen arc excellent, measuring
501 inches, only short of a world's record. The buffalo, too,
is a born fighter, wary, keen of sense, full of cunning and
resource. He is of a gregarious habit, and the hunter who
follows up a single individual is not at all unlikely to find
himself at the finish involved with the whole herd. Then,
of course, the chances of his being " winded " are multiplied
exceedingly, and it is certain that if they by any chance
happen to catch sight of him, he will have to deal, not with
one only, but with the whole of the company. To be quaking
behind a bush while a herd of, say, a hundred buffaloes is
charging in your direction, is exciting enough to satisfy the
most exacting taste. Old bulls seem to be very unsociable
and are often found alone ; I am not disposed to speculate
upon the reason but the fact is indisputable.

One great difficulty in hunting the buffalo arises from his
nocturnal habits. He will only come out in the open after
dark. All the daytime he is in hiding, and only comes out
on to the plains to feed at sunset. Shortly after dawn he
retires to the thickets. The hunter's golden opportmiity,
therefore, comes just after sunrise. Then he has the chance
of a clear shot in good light. If he can drop his quarry at the
first shot he is a lucky man. If not, he will certainly have
to follow up into cover. There he is beset with difficulties.
In the first place he has to find the beast, and in doing so he
may very likely come across the herd. So wary walking is
essential. It is by no means easy work, for the heat in these
jungles is terrific ; the labour of pushing one's way through
the undergrowth or of crawling through the long grass, and
the minor but not less exasperating worry of creeping and
stinging things all have their effect ; and when at last, sweat-
ing, tired, smarting and irritable, one comes within sight
of the buffalo, it is a matter of the greatest difficulty, hidden
as they are among the long grass, to determine whether one
is firing at a bull or a cow, and of even greater difficulty to
determine at what point to aim.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Monday, Nov. 10. I made up my mind to leave the camp
and go up the Isiola to look for lion. So, taking one small
tent, some provisions and a few boys, Duirs and I moved up
the river about five miles to what we thought would be a
likely spot. Finding lions is not the easy thing some travellers
in Africa would make out. The popular idea seems to
be that Africa consists mainly of lions and sand, with the
former predominating. Truth compels me to state that
this is, to say the least, an exaggeration. There are men,
mighty hunters, who have gone to those parts of the country
where the king of beasts most chiefly congregates, and have
hunted him strenuously for months and then gone empty
away. There is a great deal of luck in the business. Even
when you have marked down a troop and arranged how you
will attempt to shoot them, you may sit up for night after
night and never see so much as a whisker or hear more than a
distant grunt. I have had this experience more than once, and
a most exasperating one it is. On the other hand, if one credit
all the tales that are told in places where hunters and would-
be hunters congregate, it is a matter for wonder that there
are any lions left at all. But killing lions with the mouth is
far easier than the more legitimate method, and the pen is
often a far deadlier weapon than the rifle. It is so much
easier to get your lion in a vital spot with it. With the
rifle on a dark night, with only a pair of eyes to guide you,
a deadly aim is by no means an easy matter.

On this occasion we found plenty of lion spoor and deter-
mined to sit up on chance of getting a shot at one.

There are various ways of hunting the lion, based mainly
on observation of his habits. In the first place the lion
chiefly frequents those localities where the great game herds
are to be found. Thus he is likely to be seen on the great
bush plains, in the jungles which border rivers and streams,
on forest-clad mountain slopes, and in the valleys between
them. He rarely goes very far from water, for drinking after
feeding is one of his most striking characteristics. He
comes out to hunt at nightfall, kills and feeds during the
darkness, drinks in the early dawn, basks awhile in the morn-
ing sun, and then retires to his lair in a dry donga or river

154

ON SAFARI

bed, among the rocks and caves of kopjes and hills, or in
the high grass. This is what he should do according to
routine. But the lion is nothing unless original, and what
he will do is quite another matter. It is this uncertainty
which makes half the charm and most of the excitement of
lion-hunting, and which also constitutes the greater part of
its danger.

There are several methods of attack. You can, if you
wish, chase the lion with horses and dogs. This method does
not find favour in Africa, though certain sportsmen who
have adopted it have secured huge bags. You can set a trap
for him, and shoot him when he falls into it. This is safe
and effective, but not exciting, and I should hardly call it
sport. It has been done, but I have never heard anyone
boast about it. Or you can, if you like, pepper a zebra with
strychnine and put it out as a bait. Then, if you are lucky,
you get not one lion but a regular bag. Sir A. E. Pease, in
his book on the lion, mentions a case in which eleven adult
lions, as well as innumerable vultures, hyasnas and jackals,
were found dead around a poisoned bait. In this case also
it is not usual to boast of the exploit. The trophies which
are carefully collected may be left to tell their own tale and
establish their owner's reputation.

Among the more legitimate ways of hunting, however, are
three which are very similar, though they vary in detail.
You can procure a goat or pig, tie it to a stake near a tree,
and then at nightfall get up into the tree and await develop-
ments. This is safe but inconvenient. Once up your tree
you stay there till morning, because in Africa it pays to
be conventional and not to go home after dark. It is
sure to be chilly, and is likely to be uncomfortable. Sitting
up in the fork of a tree all through the night is apt to wear
out one's patience, to say nothing of one's skin and one's
temper.

You may, if you wish, vary your bait, and use a dead
animal instead of a live one, appealing to the beast's sense of
smell instead of to his hearing. This adds another discomfort
to the vigil, especially if it extends, as it may possibly do,
to more than one night. A zebra two or three days dead

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AFTER BIG GAIVTE

has a distinct bouquet, and one fraught with disastrous
possibiHties to a delicate stomach.

Another method is somewhat similar, but involves a con-
siderable element of risk. The bait is prepared as before,
but the hunter, instead of sitting up over it at night, goes out
to visit it in the early morning ; when the lion, having fed
during the night, may be found in the vicinity, gorged and
basking in the sun, enjoying to the full the satisfaction that
comes of repletion. As he generally seeks some convenient
cover for this, and you have to follow him there, there is
every possibility of an exciting time. Moreover, the light
is not particularly good, and there is a chance that you may
overlook him in approaching the bait, in which case you may
find him on your track before you have had a chance of a
shot.

Or, and this is, perhaps, the commonest method, you may
build a boma. This is the native name for a shelter of thorn
bushes, in which you take up your position overnight, watch-
ing through a loophole for the lion to visit your bait, which
is tied to a pole in front. This also has its element of risk,
for though under ordinary circumstances the lion, who is a
thin-skinned beast, will fight shy of the thorns, he has been
known to charge the boma ; and a lion, wounded and smart-
ing with the pain, and smelling the occupants, would be likely
to make short work of the structure and, bowling it over,
mix it and its occupants up in an extremely unpleasant way.

The two last methods were those I generally adopted ;
but there is a final method of dealing with the lion which
is decidedly sporting. It consists in following him on foot
into his lair. This is exciting enough in all conscience, and
no one should attempt it but a man of iron nerve and prompt
decision, an expert stalker and a sure shot to boot. For the
novice it is suicide.

But to get back to our lions. There were plenty of signs
that lions had visited the spot, and that very recently. So
we made up our minds that we would set a bait and visit
it in the morning for a start. Setting a bait seems simple
enough, but is not so easy an operation as a beginner might
imagine. Lions are very fond of zebra, and there are plenty

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ON SAFARI

of zebra about, so that there is no difficulty in getting the
bait. But the difficulty is in getting it in the place where
you want it. It must be in such a position that you can get
close enough to it in the morning for a good shot before the
lion is aware of your presence ; so that you will have to take
into consideration the amount of cover, and also the probable
direction of the wind in the morning.

We got our zebra at five o'clock, the little preliminaries
having taken some three and a half hours. We noticed that
the herd of zebra seemed strangely suspicious and were
watching a rocky hillock very closely ; and looking through
the glasses X)uirs saw a lioness with her two cubs, the first we
had seen. They were too far off for a shot, so we tried to
stalk them. Some way in front of us was a good-sized tree.
We walked back till this came directly between us and the
lions, and then I moved forward towards them while Duirs
went a little to the left. In this way I managed to get within
a hundred and fifty yards of where she was lying. However,
I had no luck, for she saw me and bolted before I got to the
tree. I ran forward up the hill but she was not to be seen.
A few seconds later I heard the report of Duirs' rifle. I ran
to him, only to find that he had missed her clean. The sun
was low down in the west, and he had to shoot with the glare
right in his eyes, which no doubt accounted for the miss.
Meanwhile the beast had taken cover in the black thorn
bush.

We followed on to the spot where she had disappeared,
moving round a little to get a better light on the sights of
the rifles ; for the sun had now sunk below the horizon and
we should have to hurry to get in a shot at all. After a few
seconds of waiting she raised her head out of the tall grass,
and I let drive and missed. I threw in another cartridge
and fired again. This time it was an undoubted hit. I
heard the bullet " plunk " — that indescribable but unmistak-
able sound it makes when striking flesh. But she was not
sufiicicntly badly hit to stop her, and as it was too dark to
follow up the trail that night we returned to the camp. We
got in at 8.30. I had a meal and went straight to bed, in
preparation for an early start in the morning. Although

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AFTER BIG GAME

chagrined at the loss of the beast we were immensely pleased
to strike lion at the very start. I was glad to learn that the
syce who had been mauled by a leopard was able to use his
foot again. I forgot to mention that he was able to direct
the bearers who carried him on a stretcher to the spot where
he had been attacked. There they found the camera, for
which I was very glad, and also the saddle and bridle of the
mule. Of the animal itself only the tail was left. All the
rest had been eaten.

Tuesday, Nov. 11th. We were up at four, and off in the
dark to visit our bait. We reached it just as the day was
dawning, but to our annoyance found that only jackals had
visited it. Then we picked up the trail of the lioness we had
wounded the previous night. Following her spoor we found
that she had made a detour from the place where she was hit,
and had come back to a point quite close to the tree from
behind which I had tried to stalk her, and had waited there
some considerable time, no doubt in the amiable desire to
get a little of her own back by ambushing me. Under the
circumstances I am glad that I did not give her the oppor-
tunity she desired. Thorn bush, a wounded lion, and the
dark, are not an ideal combination from any point of view.
In the daylight it was another matter, though even then
risky enough to keep one constantly on the alert. So,
cautiously but thoroughly, we explored all the caves in the
rock and the refuges in the face of the hill where we thought
she might have taken shelter, but to no purpose. Lioness
and cubs had vanished completely.

This following up of a wounded lion into cover is as severe
a tax on one's nerves as it is possible to imagine. They are
strung up to the utmost pitch and every muscle is held at
tension. A lion can find cover in next door to nothing.
His tawny skin blends admirably with the surroundings of
parched grass and baked soil, and any attempt to make out
his outline will probably fail. The expert looks out for little
patches of black that should not be there, such as the tips
of ears, muzzle or tail, and then proceeds to develop the
position of the animal from them. It has to be borne in
mmd that the lion can easily sprmg some fifteen feet, and that

15S

ON SAFARI

the spring comes so unexpectedly that the best shot in the
world cannot depend upon placing his bullet in a vital part.
Even if hit through the lungs or touched in the heart, the
beast will traverse a distance of from forty to two hundred
and fifty yards, and is game enough to fight untU he drops.
So that, all things considered, it is best before moving onward
to make sure that the lion is not within springing distance.

We left a boy to keep the vultures away from our bait
and then went further afield, still searching for lions, but
without success, and got back about noon. Then the boy
who had been left watching the carcass of the zebra told us
that shortly after we had left, about 7 a.m., a fine big lion put
in an appearance and had a good look round, but finally
made off when he saw the boy. So great a part does luck
pla}^ in lion-hunting. We made up our minds that we would
sit up for him, and spent the afternoon in building a thorn
boma about nine feet in diameter. Having got some food
and tea from the camp, we entered the boma at dusk and
prepared to settle down for the night. Our arrangements
were easily made. The ground was rocky and very hard.
We had no blankets and so sat on our coats. The moon rose
almost at once, and we could watch the hyaenas gathering
round the carcass. Two big chaps did most of the eating
while the others did the shouting. Both parties were very
successful, particularly the latter, who made a beautiful night
hideous with their unearthly howling, snarling and fiendish
cackling laughter. Up till now I had never seen so many
of the brutes at one time. The noise was awful, but it was
distinctly interesting to see how the two big ones kept on
steadily feeding, ignoring the waiting, jostling, snarling
crowd, which were licking their lips over the prospect of the
feast to come when the big fellows had finished. But their
anticipations were doomed to disappointment. Before the
first two had had their fill there was a sudden lull in the noise,
and after a few regretful growls the whole party slunk off.
We guessed what this might mean and were at once on the
alert. This was about 2 a.m. In a very few moments a
lion came quietly up and began to feed. It was very difficult
to see anything distinctly, but I took a very careful aim with

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AFTER BIG GAME

my '465 at what I thought was the beast, and fired. I
certainly thought that I hit him and that I saw him fall.
But when we went out in the morning he was not to be seen,
so that either I must have missed or he must have got away
wounded. The hysenas did not come back, a sure sign that
there were more lions about ; and sure enough in about an
hour's time another came up and began to feed. This time
I had a better view, and, taking a careful aim, fired. I
heard the bullet strike, and the lion gave a great roar and
sprang quickly away. He did not get very far, however, as
we could hear a faint gurgling in the bushes. We concluded
that he was badly hit and that we should find him all right
in the morning- — a supposition which proved perfectly correct,
the beast turning out to be a very fine lioness. Some time
after this — time goes very quickly when one is after lion —
we heard more roaring in the distance, in which most of the
other voices of the jungle joined. We kept quiet, wondering
what was going to happen next. Suddenly there came a
rush ; it seemed like a stampede of animals ; and four huge
shapes dashed out of the darkness towards the zebra. At
first I thought they were buck fleeing from the lions, but the
grunting and growling as they seized the meat left no room
for doubt as to what they were. It was very difficult to see
at all as the moon was down ; but I could make out, very
dimly and indistinctly, one great black form right in front of
the peephole of our boma, and after careful consideration as
to where to aim, fired. To my intense satisfaction the beast
dropped on the spot ; and I found when I examined the
carcass in the morning that he had been shot right through
the heart. He had only grunted once, swung roimd, and
fallen dead. But our adventure was not yet over. I felt
in some mysterious way that some big beast was close by me.
I could not see him ; I could not hear him ; but I knew that
he was there on my left, just outside the narrow wall of the
boma. He had probably scented us inside, and was softly
prowling round to find the entrance. I got up very quietly
and slowly. I was stiff with the cold. The night itself had
been warm enough, but the chill that comes before the dawn
was sharp. As I rose, I saw him move off to a distance of

1 60

%a^

Tlu' Autli;)!- Miul Tliii'i^ Fiieiuls.

A Good Specimen.

ON SAFARI

about ten yards. In the daylight it would have been an easy
shot ; but as it was I found it most difficult. However, I
slowly raised the -465, pressed down with the barrel a little
twig of thorn that stood in the way, and took what aim I
could and pulled the trigger. I heard a dull thud, and knew
that the bullet had struck something. But it did not seem
to me to be the characteristic plunk which is made by striking
flesh ; and I had certam misgivings about the success of my
shot, which were unfortunately confirmed when, going out
in the morning to survey the field of operations, we found a
tuft of grass cut off by the bullet, but no sign of any lion.
Still we had no reason to grumble, our bag being two very
fine lionesses. One measured 8 feet 4 inches from tip to tip,
and 3 feet 4 inches in height to the shoulder. This was an
exceptionally fine specimen, being younger than the other,
which was 7 feet 11 inches in length and 3 feet 3 inches in
height. The smaller was the first one shot, and she got the
bullet through both lungs. As a matter of fact it passed
clean through her, breaking several ribs on both sides. The
larger one was shot through the heart. She showed a greater
number of broken ribs ; but the bullet, tliough it had com-
pletely traversed her chest, remained in the skin on the
opposite side to that at which it had entered, and fell out of
it while she was being skinned. The difference may have
affected the behaviour of the animals after being shot. With
the first one the bullet, having passed clean through the
body, must naturally have expended some of its energy on
the farther side in continuing its flight. Hence the beast
did not receive so heavy a blow as the other, whose system
must have absorbed the full shock of the bullet.

A great deal has been written and said about the size of
lions, and some people talk about them as if they were all
of a certain definite size, instead of varying within con-
siderable limits, just as other animals, including human
beings, do. I believe that my second victim was unusually
tall for a lioness. Sir A. E. Pease says that a lioness that
stands 3 feet 3 inches to the top of the shoulder is an excep-
tionally tall one, and that anytlmig over 9 feet in length
makes a very long one. But hunters' measurements vary

L i6i

AFTER BIG GAME

a good deal, according to the method by which they are taken.
I have followed one invariable rule : the length is the shortest
distance from tip to tip, measured between two spears stuck
in the ground, one at each end. If the tape had been made
to follow the curve of the anmial's back the result would have
been considerably greater, possibly by a foot. Some measure-
ments are taken from the nose along the skull, and then
straight across to the rump. This also would give a result
greater than my method, though less than the preceding one.
Measurements are often taken from the skin after drying ;
but these are very misleading, as the skin will stretch consider-
ably, to a degree varying with the method of drying selected,
the moisture of the air and the degree of force employed in
stretching. I believe it is possible to stretch a lion-skin
something like a couple of feet in this way, a fact which
provides large possibilities in the way of record-breaking.

Of the length the tail generally accounts for about 3
feet. But as there are short-tailed as well as long-tailed lions,
it may happen that a 9 -ft. 6 -inch, lion is really a bigger
and heavier beast than one which measures 10 feet over all,
if the latter was of the long-tailed type. All of which tends
to show that statistics may be made as unreliable in big-game
shooting as they are, say, in politics. As to height, I fancy
few sportsmen take the trouble to measure this at all, and
when they do so it is sometimes done in the most casual
fashion, so that the results are not always to be depended on.
I made all my height measurements in the same way as for
length, taking the shortest distance between two points, each
marked by a spear stuck in the ground, the beast's limbs
being held in a horizontal position the while. This, of course,
has an element of error in the fact that the length of the
limbs with all their muscles relaxed is likely to be greater
than the height. When the animal is standing on its legs
there must be a certain amount of settling down. The
greatest height I have ever heard of is four feet. If anyone
will take the trouble to visualise this height from the ground,
and then to imagme the great maned head surmounting
it, he will need no fiu:ther convincing that a full-grown lion,
standing erect, is an imposing spectacle. Such a beast would

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ON SAFARI

probably scale over 500 lb. He would, however, be an
exceptionally fine specimen. It is probable that the ordinary
good average lion is about 400 lb. in weight, and that the
lioness is, say, a hundred pounds less.

We got the lions skinned and then made tracks for camp,
a wash, a meal, and a rest. And we wanted all three. Keep-
ing awake all night in a bonia, with a zebra m a forward
stage of decomposition a few yards away, is no busmess for
fastidious people, or for those troubled with nerves. The
odour is enough in itself ; but there might also be snakes
in the roof and on the ground. In the darkness, any rustling
which can't be accounted for is quite enough to get one's
imagination to work. Then there are insects, such as mos-
quitoes, flies, ants and the rest. There is no room for imagina-
tion with regard to them. After a few encounters, in
which you come off second best, your whole skin acquires a
sort of crawly feeling, as though legions were marching
over you. Reason, of course, assures you that there is nothing
of the sort, but reason doesn't go for a row of pins under
the circumstances. Reason or no reason, you are glad enough
of a hot bath when you get back to camp. As for the tired
feeling, anyone who has ever watched a whole night through
can imagine it, if he will add to his experiences the hard
ground to lie on, the scent of the zebra hanging thick and
heavy on the air, the snakes real and imaginary, and com-
plicate the whole thing with the infernal concert kept up by
the hysenas, and finally will remember that during the greater
part of the time one's nerves and senses are strung up to a
fairly high pitch of expectancy, ears straining after every
sound, eyes peering through the darkness. Then he will
understand why, after washing and eating, we went to bed
and slept the sleep of the just and tired.

Ikit wc had made up our minds coming back that we
would put in another night in the boma ; so our sleep was
rather of the " forty winks " variety than the long, deep
slumber we were entitled to. Wluit shortened it still more
was the fact that we had made up our minds to kill a fresh
zebra, in addition to what was left of the other, so as to cater
for a possible variety of tastes.

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AFTER BIG GAME

It is sometimes said that lions prefer carrion. I do not
think this is true. They will, of course, under the stress of
hunger, eat almost any kind of kill they come across ; but
I fancy that as a rule they prefer fresh meat, and, for choice,
meat which they have killed themselves. On the plain
where game is plentiful they find no difficulty in satisfying
their hunger by the old-fashioned method of " kill and eat."
In the bush country there may be greater scarcity of food,
and a lion may resort day after day to a kill he has found,
until the carcass is absolutely putrid. In the plains this
would not be possible, for the scavengers of the air would
look after that. There may be some exceptions. For
example, I have heard it said that lions are fond of elephant
and rhinoceros meat. This, of course, they cannot kill them-
selves, and are, therefore, dependent upon chance finds ; and
sometimes these, as a matter of course, will have a distinctly
" gamey " flavour. Tigers are said to have similar tastes.
But as against this I remember a rhino I killed in the Malay
State. We took off the head, feet and various slabs of skin,
and the natives had a go at what was left. There was a tiger
prowling round the whole time. He must have known all
about it, but he never touched the carcass. One advantage
of a " high " bait is that it advertises itself over a wide area.
The plain-dwelling lion is undoubtedly paitial to zebra.
This may be because there are plenty of zebra and they are
easily killed, so that the capture of them for food becomes
a habit. On the other hand, it may be that the flavour has
a peculiar appeal to his Majesty's tooth. This point I shall
not attempt to settle. But I fancy that the solution may lie
in the fact that the lion is very fond of fat, and the zebra
alone of the smaller plain-dwelling animals is nearly always
very fat. The rhinoceros and the hippopotamus also carry
plenty of fat as a rule, but he cannot kill these. The fact
may, however, explain his partiality for their flesh as well.
A lion's first proceeding when dealing with a kill is to dis-
embowel it with strokes of his great claws and to feast his
fill on the fat of the intestines and on the soft abdominal
organs. If game is plentiful, he may then retire, leavmg the
rest to his crowd of camp foUowers^ — hyaenas or jackals and

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ON SAFARI

the carrion birds. He invariably rolls the intestines into a
heap and buries or partly buries them in the sand, or under
the grass or leaves. A leopard will do the same thing but
far less completely. Indeed leopards often only roll them
over and over among the fallen leaves.

The late Mr Selous, who must be heard with the utmost
respect, says that he has found when shooting elephants that
" lions will prey upon the stinking carcasses, as they lie
festering in the rays of a tropical sun and at last become a
seething mass of maggots, returning night after night to the
feast until no more meat is left. This occurs in parts of the
country abounding in game, where it would give a party of
lions but little trouble or exertion to catch a zebra or antelope,
and procure themselves a meal of fresh meat. In the same
way, no matter how plentiful game may be, lions will almost
invariably feast upon any dead animal left by the hunter."

Perhaps, after all, it may be no safer or wiser to lay do\vn
a hard and fast rule as regards the food of lions than as to
that of man. We have heard that one man's meat is another
man's poison ; so may it be with lions. Some may choose
carrion because age or impotence prevents their hunting with
any chance of success. Others may do so out of sheer laziness.
Some may do so out of that queer perversity which makes
some people we know pretend to like only what everyone else
dislikes. Or again, the taste for " high " game may be an
acquired one, and perhaps, as among civilised nations, a sort
of social hall-mark. One curious fact, while we are on this
point, is the lion's fondness for skin. It seems nearly always
to bolt a certain amount with the meat, so that it is often
possible to determine whether a half-devoured beast is a
lion's kill or not by noting how much of the skin has been
devoured.

The natives believe that the lion carries about with it in
its mouth a charm, in the form of a ball of hair with some-
times a central stone. They assert positively that he takes
this with him wherever he goes, and that when hunting he
will bury it in the ground, returning after his kill and meal
to dig it up again. When he dies he blows it out of his
mouth to some distance. They attribute to it all sorts of

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AFTER BIG GAME

extraordinary virtues, the least of which is safety from an
attack by wild beasts ; and at every kill are very keen on dis-
covering one of these balls. I didn't happen to come across
one of them ; but it is at least possible that the whole thing
arises from the lion's habit of eating the skin of the animals
it feeds upon. The hair would naturally mat in the stomach
into a ball-like mass, which would from time to time be
expelled cat fashion, with other indigestible material.

After our sleep we went out, shot our zebra and had it
pulled up to the same place as before. I may say that our
choice of a zebra was probably dictated by the same reasons
as the lion's ; first, because the lion is partial to his flavour,
and secondly, because there is such a lot of him about that
it is comparatively easy to get him into the proper position.
Dragging a heavy animal a mile or so over rough ground, or
through thick grass three or four feet high, is not the easiest
of tasks. Fate was good to us so far, but we had scarcely
got the carcass into position when it began to rain. I sent
for a couple of blankets to add what comfort I could to
our situation, and prepared for a miserable night hoping,
however, as a set-off, for a visit from our friends of the night
before. The first scenes worked out as planned. We got
the hyaenas as before, and the hyaenas got the zebra and were
grateful, so far as we could judge from the noise they made.
But no lion. In the very early dawn came a faint distant
grumbling, the voice for which we were waiting ; and the
hyaenas heard it too and ceased their noise. But daybreak
found us wet, tired and stiff, but still expectant. As to
temper, I don't know how Duirs felt, but I know how I did.
However, our boys turned up from the tent at 6 a.m. with
cold steak, bread and butter, and we devoured this and
dreamed of hot coffee. We got some when we reached the
tent a little later, and I had a good wash and a meal and a
couple of hours' sleep before we started back at 12.30 for the
main camp. The rain came down heavily soon after we
started and we got soaked to the skin. Altogether a miser-
able finish to a wretched day.

Fortunately we found the lion-skins all right, but as it
had looked like rain Duirs had had them hung up in front of

i66

ON SAFARI

his tent with a good charcoal fire to dry them. From one
point of view that was a disadvantage. If we had left them
wet they might have stretched a foot or so, and we might have
got a record. I am beginning to suspect records unless I
know the person who has taken the measurements.

Next morning was wet and we overhauled the skins. They
were nearly dry by this time. This drying is rather a ticklish
matter, as the hair, particularly in the neighbourhood of the
mane, is more likely to come out than in the case of any other
animal. Hutton was by this time much better, greatly to
my relief. He had had a bad attack of dysentery which
had handled him fairly severely ; and as he was the type of
man who would never under any circumstances take medicine,
for the simple reason that he had never done so in his life
before, he was a source of considerable anxiety. I got
rather sick of his obstinacy and impressed upon him strongly
the fact that he wasn't at home in bonnie Scotland, and
that in the tropics certain remedies are absolutely essential.
Then he thought his last hour had come, or at any rate was
approaching. But he was as obstinate as ever. So I had
to fix him up against his will, and disguised the powder in
the jam as one does with a small child. I started with
Dover's powder in Brand's essence of beef, which worked
very well. "When we had exhausted the essence of beef I
went through the stores, and found several tins of arrowroot,
and started him on that with the addition of plenty of sugar
and twelve grains of Dover's powder incognito. The only
milk available was tinned milk, which is the best thing of its
kind that can be got in Africa. This he would not touch
under any circumstances. So I carefully mixed some with
each feed of arro^\Toot, the sugar disguising this as well as
the medicine. He lived without any trouble on this for
several days, and with the aid of any quantity of hot tea
began to pull round, and was able, to my great satisfaction,
to return with the safari to Nairobi. He had been pretty
badly shaken up, however, and was certainly in no condition
to undertake another safari, so I shipped him off home by
French mail via Marseilles. As he doesn't know a word
of French, and his Scotch was so broad that the average

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AFTER BIG GAME

Scotsman would have found it impossible to understand him,
I was very anxious about him until I found out that he had
arrived safely. But he must have had a lonely voyage,
poor soul !

When I planned the trip, the idea of taking out with me
a keeper whom I knew and could trust seemed to me to be
an admirable one. I should have a man on whom I could
depend in an emergency, a good shot, a man of powerful
physique and a capital woodsman. But in actual fact, I
found the disadvantages were many as compared with
engaging a man on the spot who knew the natives and the
language, and who, moreover, was accustomed to safari life
and had not to learn, as we had to learn, all the thousand and
one little dodges that make life endurable. You can get a
headman to do all these things and do them well, at no very
great cost. Fui-ther, if you take out a keeper from home, he
is another white man, and has to be provided with much the
same equipment as yourself, which necessitates more porters ;
so that, all things considered, if you have a good keeper at
home, it is better to let him stay where he knows his work
and does it well, than to transplant him to novel surroundings
where he may possibly be a burden rather than a help.

Sunday, Nov. 16th. We started up the Isiola to a point
some seven miles beyond the camp, which we had concluded
would be a suitable spot to look for lion. The way lay over
a rolling plain of softish earth, with plenty of scrub and bush
and numerous pig-holes, so that we had to keep a careful
look out to avoid a cropper. Luckily Ginger, my mule, was
an exceptionally sure-footed beast, and seemed to avoid
most obstacles and traps by instinct. The beast seemed to
have taken a great fancy to me, and I could do anything
with him ; very few of the boys, however, dared come within
a couple of yards of him. If they did, there was a circus for
five minutes, the centre of it being a pair of lively hoofs and
a very fine and vicious-looking set of teeth.

There was any amount of game about, for the most part
quietly feeding singly or in groups, and the bush and trees
were alive with birds. I had one great stroke of luck in
getting an impala and a gerenuk with a right and left — a

i68

Iiii|.;il;i imd Gerenuk. shot with lipht and left.

Gr^vy Zebra.

ON SAFARI

most unusual thing, as I am told these two animals are very
rarely found in company. But there they were grazing,
certainly not more than twenty yards apart, and I dropped
them clean with the two shots, greatly to my satisfaction.
The gerenuk is by no means plentiful in this neighbourhood,
and is very difficult to be seen, especially when lying in
cover. His long giraffe-like neck enables him to look over
the top of the grass or low bush without exposing himself,
so that he can see you coming from afar off while his little
head is practically invisible. Then, when you get within
his danger limit, he is off before you can get a line on him,
and you don't see him again except at the safest of safe
distances.

Later on I got my first Grevy zebra, a fine beast too. This
is the largest and most beautiful of all the zebras. A decent
specimen stands over fourteen hands. Both in size and in
marking the Grevy is vastly superior to the ordinary
(Burchell's) zebra. The latter is common enough, too, while
the Grevy is sufficiently rare to be considered a prize.

Having fixed on a suitable spot for our next attempt I
killed two zebra in the evening to serve as bait.

Monday, Nov. 17th. Duirs and I went out at 4 a.m. to
find out whether our kill had been interfered with. There
were no traces of any animals except hyaenas, and these
brutes had completely finished one zebra. The other, which
had dropped some distance away, was fortunately untouched.
I took a photo of the impala and the gerenuk I shot yesterday,
so as to be able to show my right and left shot. We returned
to camp about 7.30, very wet and cold and ready for break-
fast, having made up our minds to build a boma and sit up
through the night ; so, selecting a suitable spot, we began
to put up the usual erection of thorns. When it was finished
we pulled the zebra up and tethered the carcass with a two-
inch rope about twelve yards from the peephole, the idea
being to prevent the lions from dragging it away. After
hmch we rode over from the main camp to the boma, about a
mik; and a half, to see that everything was in proper order.
The cook came over from the camp and got our dinner ready,
and then went back. Shortly after sundown we got into the

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AFTER BIG GAME

boma, pulling a great thorn bush after us to stop up the
entrance. Scarcely had we settled do^vn when a hyaena came
lumbering along the track where we had pulled the zebra.
He stopped suddenly, having, I suppose, got our wind ; and
then, after a good look at us, turned and slowly trotted away.
Possibly he was suspicious, or it may have been too early
for him to feed ; or, again, he may have gone off to call his
pals to the feast, though I should hardly suspect a hyaena
of generous sentiments. Anyhow, just after dark a troop of
fifteen or sixteen put in an appearance and started to work
on the zebra with the usual a^^dFul noise, snarling, chattering,
howling and laughing.

They did not, however, settle dowTi fairly ; for every few
minutes there would come a lull in the sounds and they would
bolt to some distance, so that we knew there were lions
close at hand and that probably they were satisfying them-
selves as to the harmlessness of the boma before coming up.
This went on for some time, the hyaenas returning again and
again to the kill, taking a few mouthfuls but never settling
down to feed steadily. Finally, about 9, two lions dashed in
— a very big black male and a lioness. The moon had not
yet risen, the night was very dark, and one could not see too
well. I may have made some trifling movement while peering
into the darkness to get a glimpse of them, or it may be that
he merely got our scent, but something startled the big lion
and he slunk off before I could get a shot at him. Duirs
would not allow me to fire at the lioness, as she was feeding
steadily. I sat for more than an hour in a cramped position,
not daring to move and scarcely daring to breathe, straining
my eyes to follow the movements of the lion, who was prowl-
ing roimd and round the boma, evidently trying in his own
way to sum up the situation. All this while I was sitting on
my right leg, which seemed to me to be broken in at least
three places with my weight upon it.

The pain became intense, yet I dared not stir for fear of
frightening his suspicious Majesty and losing him altogether.
So I continued to stick it, while he continued to prowl. He
must certainly have kno's\Ti we were there, and was afraid to
settle down to feed. At one time he came within twelve

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ON SAFARI

feet of me, as his tracks proved in the morning. It is curious
to note the effect the scent of a white man has upon all kinds
of wild creatures. They take little notice of blacks, but as
soon as a white man comes within carry of their noses they
show obvious signs of uneasiness and not infrequently move
off. Whether it is that the odour of the white man is peculi-
arly offensive, or whether it is merely the suspicion aroused
by an unaccustomed smell, I do not pretend to say ; but
there is the fact, which I have often observed.

Shortly before the moon rose, the lion reappeared. He
had evidently made a long circuit, and was now coming
toward us from the front. The lioness had been placidly and
steadily eating all this while, and was now joined by another
which came up at a sharp trot from the westward. It had
been weary waiting, but it was very interesting to see the
lions at such close quarters and watch their behaviour.
Before starting to eat they lick the selected part all over
with their rough tongues, which sounds very much like sand-
paper being applied to a rough surface. When the bait has
been exposed to the sun for some twenty-four hours the
abdomen becomes distended with gas. Then the noise pro-
duced by the preliminary licking is considerable, and resembles
that made by a gummy finger being rubbed over a big drum.
It is rather a gruesome kind of noise in the darkness and
stillness of the desert. One can hear the hiss of the escaping
gas when the first incision is made. The stench is, of course,
overpowering. All the time they keep up a continuous
purring, just like a huge cat. The lion is a noisy eater, too,
and this, with the cnmching of bones, the rasping of the
rough tongues, and the growling and snarling, rather gets on
one's nerves after a while.

Seeing the two lionesses feeding at their ease, the big male
took heart, and began creeping nearer and nearer, then
squatting on his haunches, going away, coming back, squat-
ting down again, then sneaking forward a bit, and so on for
quite a long time. However, the moon was rising and I
could see pretty clearly now ; so when he got to about 43
yards (as measured in the morning) I seized my opportunity
and put a bullet from the -465 into him. He gave one

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AFTER BIG GAME

terrifying roar, which showed that I had touched him pretty
deeply, and tried to make off. At the same moment Duirs
fired at one of the honesses. She made a fine roar too, and
dashed towards us, probably charging the flash. We thought
she was fairly in among us, but she dashed past our frail
thorn fence just nine feet from where I was sitting. But she
pretty well frightened the wits out of us for the moment.
To be mixed up in a melee in which the other constituents
were a wounded lioness and the fragments of a thorn boma
is not a cheerful prospect.

We could hear the lion moaning some little distance to
the north, and after a while, we heard the lioness too, away
to the south-east, but our bait attracted nothing else but
hyaenas and jackals for the remainder of the night. At dawn
we came out. We found the lion quite dead not far away,
the '465 having done his business almost at once. I had
every reason to be pleased with this rifle. With a soft-nosed
bullet weighing 480 grains and a charge of 75 grains of cordite
it seemed capable of stopping anything. The makers claim
that it has a striking force of 4807 lb. It was certainly
extremely accurate. The recoil was considerable for so heavy
a rifle (it weighed 12i lb.), but one doesn't notice that par-
ticularly at the moment. The effects are evident enough,
however, for two or three days after. I have had my shoulder
black and blue with it. When firing lying down it would
knock me a couple of feet backwards.

We followed the spoor of the lioness for about three quarters
of a mile, her tracks being plainly visible through the heavy
dew. Moreover, she had been bleeding freely, and had lain
down three or four times. We could see that she had been
joined by another lion which had possibly come to assist her
into cover. Duirs and I, with our two gun-bearers, carrying
the spare rifles, followed up. We failed, however, to notice
that one 'set of tracks turned off to the left, and that those
that we were following were those of the new-comer. Suddenly
I had a feeling that we were being followed. It may have
been some slight noise, or the sense that comes on one in the
wild. But turning quickly I saw the great beast hot-foot on
our trail and coming for us as fast as she could trot. This

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ON SAFARI

was turning the tables with a vengeance. The hunters had
become the quarry. She was apparently too badly hit to
spring ; but as she was getting unpleasantly close, and
evidently meant business, I took a quick sight at her with the
•360 I was carrying and got her in the hind leg. She made
a quick bite at her womided foot. I fired my second barrel
as she swung round, and the shot passed over her neck.
She turned to the right and made for the long grass ten or a
dozen yards away and was out of sight like a flash. Duirs
had a snap at her but I don't know with what result, for we
never sa^v her again, though we went very cautiously for a
long time, expecting every minute to see her break out from
cover.

We returned to the boma and took some photos and skinned
the lion, getting back to camp about 10 a.m. amid great
rejoicings. The beast measured : height to the claws, 43
inches ; height to the pad, 40 inches ; length, tip to tip, 8
feet 9 inches ; girth, 57 inches, and forearm, 16 inches.
When I first caught sight of him I took hun for a buffalo, as
he looked enormous looming up in the darkness with the
withered grass as a background. After attending to the skin,
which it is always best to do at once, we had a little sleep,
£ind then returned to the boma for another night. We had
some of the men on guard all day over the remains of the
zebra to prevent the vultures and other birds of prey from
fmishing him off, which they would have made very short
work of doing.

At sunset we retired, as before, pulling in our thorn barri-
cade. As usual our first visitors were the hyaenas, which
caused the usual diversion with their cackling and laughter.
The sounds varied from something approximately human to
the most fiendish noise imaginable.

It is curious to note that the jackals do not feed with the
hyaenas, being evidently afraid of them ; but they have
apparently no fear of lions, for now they were crowding
round the lions while the latter were feeding, darting in and
out between their legs and picking up such scraps as came
in their way. J suppose the lions consider them too small
to take notice of. At any rate they seem to treat them with

173

AFTER BIG GAME

a sort of good-tempered toleration. On this occasion I
distinctly saw a lioness roll a jackal over with a blow of her
right paw, but so far as I could judge she was not in the least
inclined to be angry. He had just got inconveniently close,
that was all, and was patted out of the way. Nor did the
jackal take it as anything out of the way, but after a somer-
sault or two came sneaking up and joined in the feast again.
But when the hyaenas were feeding the jackals kept out of
the way.

On this particular night the hyaenas had a good time right
up to about 10 P.M. They had the usual frights, of course,
bolting and coming back again ; but at ten o'clock they ran
away for good. I can quite understand that the lion, while
tolerating the jackal, would not put up with the hyaena.
The beast is no himter himself. He lacks the speed and
agility necessary to tackle antelope or other fast game, and
so he is always on the track of lions. When the latter gets
a kill, and having eaten what he needs, moves off for a space,
to digest it and to sleep, the attendant crowd of hyaenas fall
on the carcass, and if not driven off, leave very little for the
lion on the morrow. Even the bones are crushed. Indeed
the exceedingly powerful jaw which is characteristic of the
hyaena is possibly due to the fact that living as he does largely
on carrion, he often finds a kill only after the vultures have
dealt with it, and is reduced to the necessity of extracting
what nourishment he can from the bones. I have a specimen
hyaena's head in which the development of the jaw is amaz-
ing for so small a beast, while the back teeth are gromid
flat to the gums, proving that he was a bone-eater.
Around the native kraals the hyaena is the recognised
scavenger, and, gruesome to relate, the walking cemetery
of certain tribes, which leave their dead to be disposed of
by him.

This time the bolting was the result of the appearance of
four lions. They seemed to be small, and we thought they
were probably lionesses ; so we waited, and presently made
out the form of a large lion some distance away. I put a
bullet from the -465 into him, and off he went with a great
roar, making a fearful noise at every stride. One curious

174

ON SAFARI

point was that he struck the ground heavily at every stride,
as though his legs were made of wood. Generally the lion,
like all the beasts of the wild, will go off very quietly if un-
wounded, so that one can scarcely hear any sound as he trots
along. He ran for about 80 yards, when the sounds suddenly
ceased. We concluded that if he were not dead he was cer-
tainly not far off it. After a long wait my gun-bearer gently
pulled my leg. I raised my head and looked through the
peephole, a little aperture about 12 inches by 9 inches that
one leaves m the front of the boma, facing the bait. Outside
the hole are placed carefully selected thorn bushes to prevent
a lion from coming right up to the aperture and looking in.
As I have said, lions are very soft-skinned ; and the pads of
their feet being tender too, they are particularly careful, as a
rule, to fight shy of thorns. What a wounded lion might do
in his pain and rage, I am fortunately unable to say from
personal experience ; but I fancy he might make short work
of a boma, which is, after all, but a flimsy structure. Any-
way, a beast weighing anything up to 500 lb. and taking a
mad rush at a peephole, would be right in among you in no
time. This time we saw four more lions coming slowly up.
These also seemed to be on the small side. We watched them
very carefully while they fed only about a dozen yards away.
W^c were, of course, exceedingly careful to make no noise.
But I got cramp in my leg so badly that I had to move slightly.
This was enough to warn the beasts, and one of them walked
straight up to the peephole and stared right into the barrels of
my -465 which was ready for action. He was a small beast,
however, and I did not fire. I caught myself grimly reflect-
ing that he never realised how near death he was. It would
have been impossible to miss him at such close quarters.
He was so near that it seemed as if I could have touched him
by reaching out my hand. I had never been so near a wild
lion before, and certainly never want to be again. He turned
off a little to the left, and I had to withdraw my rifle from the
hole so as to keep him covered in case of trouble. However,
he passed slowly on, two others following him, but not quite
so close, until he disappeared to the left. Next morning we
measured the distance and fomid that his tracks were exactly

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AFTER BIG GAME

seven feet from where we were sitting when he looked into
my rifle.

Then came another period of waiting, after which they all
returned to the kill. I fired at what I thought to be the
biggest of them. He gave the usual roar, sprang a few feet
towards us and then fell, making the most awful noise as he
lay gasping out his life. I wanted to fire again to finish him
off ; but Duirs held me back saying it was quite unnecessary
and that in any case, as he was lying flat on his side, I could
not see where to shoot at. The noise this beast made was
wonderful, and under the circumstances was peculiarly
thrilling and awe-inspiring.

I have heard lions grunt and roar on many occasions, but
never at such close quarters. The darkness, and the fact
that only a few thorns separated us from the place where
the beast lay dying, added to the impressiveness of the
scene. The usual sound made by a lion is a sort of grunt.
When crouching in cover, awaiting the coming of his hunters,
he keeps up a continual low growl. When disturbed at a
meal he snarls angrily. But the proper roar is quite a differ-
ent affair. It begins with a succession of throaty grunts
repeated perhaps half-a-dozen times ; then come quick and
sharp as many deep-throated roars which make the earth
tremble, and these are followed by a number of quick
coughing grunts. This animal roared almost continuously for
several minutes, making the whole place reverberate until
at last he panted out his life in a sort of gurgling sigh.

Then the silence fell again and I took the opportunity to
get forty winks, for I was desperately sleepy. I seemed
hardly to have closed my eyes when I was awakened. The
moon was rising, and in the moonlight I saw what I took to
be a big lion commg up very slowly and with evident caution,
taking a few steps, then sitting down to watch, and then
coming on again. Then, to my utter surprise, he sprang
suddenly, with one swift, noiseless rush, right on to the car-
cass of my dead lion. He seemed so close and loomed up
so big in the moonlight, standing with his forepaws on the
carcass and his head up in the air, and the whole thing had
happened so quickly and unexpectedly that it almost took

176

I.-eopard.

The place where I got my l)i« P.iilViilo.— (/-"rtj/r ]51.)

ON SAFARI

my breath away. There was nothmg for it but to take my
chance. The shot was an awkward one, for I had to screw
myself well round to the right ; and the beast stood directly
between me and the moon, so that his whole front was in
shadow and I had the moonlight straight in my eyes. How-
ever, I judged my aim as well as I could, and fired. At the
report the body disappeared and there was a great silence.
I could hear my bullet ricochet, and as there was neither
stone nor tree to deflect it I could only think of one explana-
tion— that it had struck the lion's head. The boys all said
that I had missed. But the dark mass of the dead lion seemed
to have grown larger to my eye, though I could not get the
boys to agree. However, morning proved that I was right.
My bullet had taken the beast, a fine lioness, in the right eye,
and passing through the brain had come out at the back of
the head with sufficient energy left to produce the ricochetting
that I had heard. Naturally, too, after such a shot, the lion
had dropped dead on top of the other, without the usual
roar.

After this experience there was another interlude, during
which I dozed off once more, only to be called again to see
another big lion coming up in the same cautious and stealthy
fashion as the last. When he got up to the zebra he gave me
a fine shot ; and judging by the tremendous roar of rage
w^hich he gave he must have been very hard hit. I heard
him bound away through the darkness. Very shortly, how-
ever, the sound of his movements ceased suddenly, and I
concluded that he had dropped.

We had had wonderful luck up to the present. Surely, I
thought, we shall have no further visitors to-night, and
stretched myself out once more to get my much-interrupted
forty winks. I had hardly got over the borderland when I
was once more aroused by a tug at my leg and a whispered
" Bwana, Simbu ! " So up I got once more, and saw, clearly,
this tune, the form of a fine big lion silhouetted against the
moonlight. I gave him the. usual ounce bullet from the -465
■ — it is really an ounce and a bittock. The report of the rifle
was followed by the usual ear-splitting roar which showed
that the beast had been badly hit. Then there was a brief
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AFTER BIG GAME

rush through the darkness, a bit of a flurry, and silence. The
silence did not last long, for the rest of the lions must have
cleared off, as the hysenas returned in great force and began
to feed, not only on the zebra, or what was left of him, but
also on the carcasses of the fallen lions. We wouldn't stand
this, so we did our best by stoning them and shooting at them
to drive them away from the bodies of those lions which lay
nearest to the boma. The others, I imagine, they had not
as yet discovered. This was quite comprehensible, for by
this tmie the bouquet of the zebra was sufficient to disguise
any ordinary scent. However, we were glad when morning
broke, and we could go and inspect our bag.

It was one of the finest moments of my life when I found
that every one of the shots had gone home, and that my bag
was five lions for five cartridges, which cannot be far off a
record. The distances varied from nine to forty yards ;
and the conditions, though not bad, were certainly not the
most favourable for accurate shooting.

It is rather surprising that lions are not frightened away
by the noise and smell of powder. But I suppose that it
must be a common experience for a lion in inhabited districts
to be pelted with firebrands when he raids a village, and
probably any faint disinclination is quite overborne by his
desire for food.

We took some photos of the beasts and went back to break-
fast. The gun-bearers were highly excited, and when we got
within earshot of the camp broke out into shouts of " Simba ! "
and some other gibberish which I couldn't make out, but
which I imagine meant " Master has shot five lions." The
camp went nearly mad on the announcement, rushed out to
meet us, and then and there devised a dance in honour of
the occasion. This lasted a great part of the morning, but
for the rest of the day they were fairly quiet. I had a sus-
picion that they might be plotting something, and so it
turned out ; for they broke out afresh in the evening, after
we had dined and were settling down to a quiet smoke and a
chat over the affairs of the day.

The morning show had been an impromptu affair, evidently
devised on the spur of the moment ; but the evening per-

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ON SAFARI

formance was a full-dress business of the most elaborate
nature, and carried out, I should imagine, on strictly con-
ventional lines.

I don't know whether my descriptive powers are equal to
the task of setting down an idea of it on paper, but it cer-
tainly was mightily effective, and interested me very much.
Imagine a clear moonlight night and all the bushes throwing
dense shadows across the grass, stars very white and camp
fires burning brightly. Beyond the fires, the boys formed
up in groups, and one could just see their bodies shining as
the flames flickered up and down. At first there was nothing
but confused noise and movement. This gradually settled
down into a stamping of feet steadily marking a sort of dance
time. Then one body of the boys moved forward singing,
the remainder still beating time with their feet and with
improvised drums and tins. As they came into the light we
could see that this was to be an important affair. They had
stripped off their everyday clothes, and, where they wore
anything at all, were decked out in all sorts of fantastic odds
and ends. Each tribe appeared to have its own song and its
own symbolic dance. I imagine there is a kind of time-
honoured litany which is adapted to each special occasion.
On they came in turn, all to the accompaniment of stamping
feet ; every third beat being strongly accentuated — one, two,
three ; one, two, three ; and their bodies swaying. Very
picturesque they looked in the firelight ; some stark naked,
their well-oiled skins reflecting the glow, others wearing the
safari blanket round their loins, and others decked out in the
quaintest fashion with feathers, scraps of cloth, strips of
hide and bunches of grass. For a while they pranced round
solemnly to the accompaniment of drummuig feet. Then
the soloist of one party gave tongue, apparently asking a
question in a curious high-pitched voice, and the chorus
replied in an undertone. It seemed to be the same query
repeated over and over again, with a different answer each
time. This litany was by no means a comic affair. Indeed,
an extraordinary solemnity was its main feature. The
ceremony was clearly one of great traditionary importance.

The next party had broader ideas, and treated us to a

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realistic representation of a lion fight — as it might have
been. Instead of a concert we got a full-fledged drama.
Some rigged themselves out with artificial mane and tail,
others carried sticks to represent them. These were the
lions. The pantomime fight was worth seeing. The lions
rushed to and fro through the grass, chased by the hunters.
Every now and again they turned to bay with fierce growls
and horrid threatenings. The hunters met them fearlessly,
ran them to cover and went in after them much more reck-
lessly than they would have done in reality. And all this to
the eternal repeat of the song and the ceaseless drumming
of the naked feet upon the ground, the banging of the drums,
and the sound of some weird instrument of the same type as
a boy manufactures from a cigar-box and some catgut.

At times the excitement increased to frenzy height, the
voices rose to a wild shriek, and the fury of both hunters
and quarry was tremendous. The slaughter must have been
terrific, and the lions died with a realism which would have
turned a popular actor green with envy. I could not, of
course, make out the words of their song, but Duirs knew the
language and translated a phrase here and there, so that I
was able to get the hang of the proceedings. As may be
guessed, it was entirely in praise of our triumph. So far as
I could make out, we had been attacked (in song) by in-
numerable troops of lions, but we had not blenched when
the lion roared his loudest. We had achieved a glorious
day's hunting. No safari ever had such a day. The white
man, the lion-killer, was covered with glory, and so on.
Perhaps if I could have made it all out I should have blushed.
But as I have already said, African music is amazingly mono-
tonous. Two hours of it completely satisfied me. More-
over, I hadn't further use for compliments on my shooting,
but I did want very badly to get to sleep. So I got Duirs to
tell the headman that they should all have some money
when we got to Archer's Post, and with that the proceedings
terminated. I have a suspicion that the whole thing was
expected to end in just that way. But I didn't care for
anything so long as I could get to bed to finish that much-
interrupted forty winks.

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ON SAFARI

Thursday, Xov. 20th. I turned out very late, still feeling
sleepy and tired after our two nights in the boma. We did
not go out all day, but were quite contented and happy to be
pottering roimd the camp, looking after the skins and doing
all we could to preserve them. This is of great importance,
and it is necessary to bring along with the safari sufficient
preservatives to deal with all skins you are likely to get.
Salt is generally obtainable at the stations, and alum too,
at not too exorbitant a price. But I used mostly burnt
alum, and found it very effective.

Friday, A^ov. 21st. Felt very much better this morning,
the fatigue having practically disappeared. I suppose that
after two nights in a boma one needed two nights in bed to
make things right again. In the evening I went out and
shot some meat for the camp ; then I looked over the skins
once more. They were in pretty good condition, but were
not yet quite dry. So we decided to give them yet another
day before we moved on.

Saturday, Nov. 22nd. We struck camp and moved down
to Archer's Post. The distance was only about eight miles.
There I found Nicolas of the Meru Trading Company, who
had been anxiously expecting me for over a month. I had
intended to strike Archer's Post much earlier ; but as time
was of no particular moment, when once I had started on
my journey I chose to take things as they came and to be
guided by the incidents of the march. If we found a likely
spot for game, for example, we turned aside from the line of
route and spent a day or so in testing its possibilities — a
plan which I consider very much more interesting than being
tied down rigidly to a prearranged programme. But I could
hardly expect others to understand what was being done,
and I fancy Nicolas had begun to worry a bit as to what was
happening.

Archer's Post is a Government depot, one of the outlying
stations in the great bush country to which food can be
forwarded to await your arrival. Stores can be purchased
from the traders there. This, of course, helps to reduce the
number of porters you take with you on safari. We were
glad to renew our supply of posho, which was running very

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AFTER BIG GAME

short in spite of the fresh supplies we had obtained en route
from Nyeri and Meru. Our letters, too, had been forwarded
here from Nyeri, and it was distinctly pleasant to get into
touch with civilisation agam after our two months in the
wilderness.

It must not be thought that Archer's Post has any preten-
sion to be a to^Mi, even of the most rudimentary type. It
is simply one of the outposts of civilisation which exist for
the purpose of trade, and Mr Nicolas of the Meru Trading
Company (Nicolas & Claydon) was the only white man
there. Naturally he was very glad to see me. He came to
dine under the fly of our tent, and we had a long chat, which
I fancy was as pleasant to him as to us, as white visitors to
Archer's Post are few and far between.

His house is just an ordinary native-built structure with a
great store-room containing the articles traded to the natives.
It is surrounded in the usual fashion by a fence, forming an
enclosure probably some 150 yards or so across. Within
the boundary are a few sheep and a camel or two. He has
a good caretaker and a reliable watchman, an absolute
necessity in such a district. But the life, as well as being
dreadfully monotonous, must be an extremely lonely one.
Safaris now and again call to replenish their stock of posho
or of those medicines which are most commonly used on trek,
and they are sure, quite apart from the business they bring,
to meet with a hearty welcome and generous hospitality,
including the usual light refreshments. We certainly got all
these, and I found Mr Nicolas extremely obliging, and willing
to do anything in his power to help us. It must be a great
relief to him when a white man happens that way, and breaks
the terrible sameness of his daily routine. But the amazing
thing is how a single Briton, in a mud-walled house, main-
tains a moral and economic supremacy over the savages by
whom he is surrounded. The position, however, as will be
seen later on, is not without its dangers.

Sunday, Nov. 23rd. I started out early to get fresh meat
for the camp. This, by the way, is not the least exciting
business of a safari. For one thing, you never know whether
you are going to get it or not. And you don't know what it

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ON SAFARI

is going to be until you have got it. Again, the fresh meat of
the game areas varies a lot in quality. Some of it is distinctly
uninteresting, and you leave it to the boys, who are for the
most part capable of tacklmg anything. Digestion is a
process that they seem never to have heard of. It is astonish-
ing how much meat a couple of hundred healthy boys can
get rid of. I remember reading somewhere that an Arctic
explorer, I think it was Ross, was amazed to find that a
couple of his Esquimaux guides could dispose of a quarter of
a reindeer at a sitting. I can well believe it, and am certain
that some of my boys could have done it. And yet, some of
the African natives are extraordinarily frugal in the matter
of diet. Take the Masai, for example : they are a fine, big,
warlike race, yet they live chiefly on milk mixed with blood,
with no meat except at intervals, no vegetables, no corn.
But look at their superb physique ! That is rather a hard
nut for our professors of hygiene and diet to crack.

I sent Hutton off, meanwhile, with a trap to catch a
leopard. He set it all right, and towards evening we went
off to investigate. The trap was gone, and we followed it up
for about three miles, determined to get our leopard. When
at last we came up with it we found, to our disgust, that our
prize was a hyaena, which we promptly shot.

Coming home I got a kongoni, which we left as bait,
thinking it might attract a lion. I also knocked over a
Bright's gazelle. This was the first Brighti I had met with
so far, and I was very pleased. Bright's gazelle is a variety
of Grant's, and is commonly found in the Lado district. The
horns are shorter than in the ordinary variety and there are
no dark bands on the sides. The rump patch has a darker
border.

There are, in all, five varieties of Grant's gazelle. The
ordinary variety has the longest horns and is very slightly
marked on the flank. The horns spread into the shape of a
lyre. Granti notata has nearly straight horns and is strongly
marked with a dark band on the flank. It is found in the
Lowghi district. Granti rohertsi has longish horns with an
outward twist, so that the spread in this variety is greater
in proportion to the length than in any of the other species,

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in which the tips of the horns turn inward. This is found
toward the south near the German boundary. Granti
petersi has horns nearly straight, and about 10 inches shorter
than the common variety. The white stripe at the top of
the tail becomes fawn-coloured in this variety. This is found
round the Tana and at Voi and on the Laikipia plains.

Monday, Nov. 2Uh. We went out early to visit my kill
of the night before, hoping that some lions might have winded
it. However, we found nothing more interesting than a
couple of jackals. But on the way back to camp we had a
rarely exciting time, for I walked straight into a cow rhino-
ceros with her calf. ^'V^len you see two of these beasts
together, it is fairly certain that they will be cow and calf ;
but one by himself is most likely a bull. Three may be bull,
cow and calf, but this is unusual. As luck would have it, I
had sent my rifle back to camp, and was armed only with a
shot-gun, which would have been about as useful against a
rhinoceros as against a dreadnought. There was nothing for
it but to run for all I was worth, so as to prevent the brute
from winding me. So run I did, and thanked my lucky
stars that the rhino's eyes are not equal to his nose. Fifty
yards is, I am convinced, the extreme limit to which the beast
can see. This time we were well within this distance and yet
she did not see me.

I had intended moving down the river next morning, but
Nubi, my headman, had captured a strong dose of fever,
and I thought he had better not move for a day. It was
rather fortunate, as it happened, that we did not make up
our minds to start ; for before we could have struck camp
the rain came doA\Ti in heavy showers, so that the tents would
have been soaked before we could have got them packed.
I gave Nubi a heavy dose of quinine, and we stayed to await
events. In the evening I went out and shot a gerenuk ;
and on the next morning, the 26th, we made a start down
the river. Nubi was still full of fever, so I had a hammock
rigged for him and we carried him comfortably along. Nicolas
came with us as far as INIount Chaba for company. In the
evening I went out and got another Brighti and a Granti,
and then on the way back went bumping into another rhino.

184

Grant's Gazelle — Granti Notata.

N.'iir \r(li.T'> I'n-t.

ON SAFARI

This was becoming monotonous, and the more so as I had
got the two to which I was entitled under my hcence. So
I bolted again. It wasn't dignified, but there wasn't really
anything else to do. Our camp here was at an elevation of
2800 feet. Next day we stayed in camp, the headman being
still very weak. I managed, however, to get out and shoot
another gerenuk.

Friday, Nov. 28th. We struck camp very early and moved
off at 6.30 A.M. for the Wycollia swamp, Nubi still being unfit
for anything. On the way we met three rhino, an old bull
with a very large body but a small horn, a cow with a good
horn, and a half-grown calf without a tail. There was
immense excitement for a few moments, until we found out
what they were going to do. A safari covers such a lot of
ground that a charging rhinoceros is bound to hit it some-
where, however blind he may be. And in that case, down
go the boxes and off go the boys to the nearest trees, and it
takes an hour or so to get things straight again, even suppos-
ing there are no accidents. However, these trotted calmly
away down one side of the safari and made no attempt to
charge. Whether this was the result of short sight, or whether
it was because the rhino is essentially a peaceful animal and
does not attack until he is molested or frightened, I cannot
attempt to settle. They went off and we were satisfied to
let them go. There were numbers of rhinos here. I watched
one big bull from the camp. He stood still in one place all
the afternoon, and as he was still there in the evening I went
over and photographed him. Even that didn't move him.
There were the usual three black birds on his back, and I
knew he would not move as long as they sat there. How-
ever, they soon saw me and flew off, and then up went his tail
and he was away too. But I had got my photo. He was a
fine big fellow, but his horns were not more than a foot in
length.

Our camp hero was 3700 feet above sea-level. In the
morning we moved down three miles opposite to Mount
Mamoula, and while we were having breakfast could see four
lions on the other side of the swamp. I had my glasses on
the tabic and watched them at intervals for a long time.

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AFTER BIG GAME

They evidently saw us too and went to cover among the long
grass. A herd of Granti was grazing there, and I suppose
the lions were after them ; but they were evidently too far
off for the lions to spring upon them. Later I went out with
my gun and Ginger, my dog, who put up a water-buck,
which I promptly shot. In the evening I went up the river
to look for hippo. The going here is terrible, over black lava
rock, the roughest of rough country.

Sunday, Nov. 30th. It rained heavily through the night
and we did not get away until 7 a.m., the tents being wet
and thus heavy and difficult to handle. We determined to
cut down across the east of Wycollia Hill, and to strike the
river again about three miles beyond Chanler's Falls. The
heavy rain had made the cross-country going frightfully
heavy. The plains, which are normally covered with thick
red dust, were just one sheet of liquid mud, into which the
mules sank from six to eighteen inches at every step. We
were all very glad to find firmer ground nearer the river,
although it was the lava rock which we had objected to.
Chanler's Falls take their name from the American sports-
man and traveller who first visited the region in 1892-1893,
and was the first white man to explore the course of the Guaso
Nyiro and determine the mystery of its outlet in the Lorian
Swamp. The falls must present a very fine spectacle when
the river is full. There are two channels. The southern
one, which I was able to photograph, must at times be 150
yards across. I could not manage a photograph of the
northern fall until I got across the river. The elevation here
is 2300 feet and the temperature at 6 a.m. was 72° F.

I shot a crocodile from the top of the cliff and probably
killed him outright, for he turned on his back and went
floating away down stream. We pitched our tent upon the
higher ground over the falls. There is a deep, still pool below
the rapids which abounds in crocodiles and probably contains
some hippos. We could hear them blowing at night, but
didn't see them.

Monday, Dec. 1st. We moved about a dozen miles down
stream to where the cliffs open out. Most of the way was
through thick bush by the river. There was plenty of game

i86

ON SAFARI

about, including impala, oryx, water-buck and dik-dik ; but
I didn't shoot anything, though a rhino tempted me very
hard. Indeed, his attentions became so pressing that I
thought I should have to do so in self-preservation. He
thought better of it, however, and trotted off just as I had
come to the conclusion that I had had enough of his nonsense.
In the afternoon I went out from the camp and tramped a
long way through the soft red dust, till I got to the black
lava rock again. In the midst of this rocky country I came
across a Granti lying down, and stalked him till I came up
behind a little bush, where I sat for a while hoping that he
would get up. He did not move, however, and as he would
not rise to my whistle I had eventually to shoot him lying
down. By this time the sun was going down fast ; and as I
was a good way from home, I turned back, none too soon, for
it was dusk when I got back to the camp.

Wedy^esday, Dec. 3rd. We moved the camp across the
river to-day to the northern bank. The water at the ford
was about two feet high. The ground on the northern bank
is hard and dry, very different from the soft sand or mud of
the southern side. I saw some gerenuk here, and after a
long and difficult stalk I managed to get one with a very good
head, and returned to the camp at noon, very hot and thirsty.
The camp here was at an altitude of only 1800 feet, and
consequently the temperature was fairly high at noon. In
the morning, at 6 a.m., I found it to be 74° F.

The next day I went out after dik-dik, of which there were
many in the vicinity. These are the grass antelopes, no
bigger than a hare ; they lie out in the grass, and when dis-
turbed are off in a series of bounds that makes them amazingly
difficult to shoot. I tried for them with the No. 6 shot I was
using — No. 4 was the largest I had in camp. After several
attempts I managed to bag six, and got a couple more in the
afternoon. It must be understood that these were killed
for the larder, and that an ordinary rifle bullet would have
spoiled them for eating. A light rifle with solid bullet might
do the trick well enough. The flesh is white and of a delicious
flavour.

These were of two varieties : the one larger, with a notice-

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AFTER BIG GAME

ably long nose just like a tiny trunk extending over the
lower lip ; and the other smaller and much lighter in colour.
The big-nosed one is Guenther's dik-dik, or, as the Somali
call it, Salaro. It is the biggest of the species, none of
which, however, are of any great size ; for they are the
smallest of the African antelopes and often weigh only from
five to seven pounds, although they stand much higher than
this weight would suggest. Kirk's dik-dik has a less pointed
nose and is redder in the flanks than the former. There are,
however, two other varieties, Hinde's and Cavendish's.
None of the dik-diks have any knee-pads, a thick growth of
hair doing duty instead. They get their name from the
quaint, whistling noise they make when alarmed. Their
Swahili name is paa, but they use this word for practically
all the little buck.

Thursday, Dec. 4th. This was a red-letter day in our trip,
for we started on our return journey to Nairobi and home.
I shot two dik-dik for supper, and we camped on the high
ground above Chanler's Falls. In the afternoon I took my
rifle and went out on the north-east slopes of Namanga Hill.
Here I espied a gerenuk, or rather his horns, his body being
carefully and completely hidden by the bush. I had to aim
at an imaginary spot and fire at a venture ; but the shot
came off, although it was fired through the bush at a distance
of fifty yards, and there were, of course, any number of
twigs capable of deflecting the bullet. A little later I got
two dik-dik. or rather what was left of them, for the bullet,
though a small one, had cut their little bodies to pieces, which
confirmed my first opinion that with dik-dik there is nothing
for it but a shot-gun.

We managed to run across three rhinos to-day and had
quite an exciting time. One of them emerged from nowhere
and came charging down full pelt on our line. Of course he
had winded us, which is no great wonder, seeing that the
safari consisted of about 240 men. For the same reason,
blind or not, he could hardly miss the line. The porters who
saw him come thundering down with his tail up in the air and
his wicked little eyes gleaming, unmediately threw down their
boxes and bolted. Those who didn't see him saw what the

iS8

ON SAFARI

others were doing, and, thinking their last hour had come,
followed their example. There was a very pretty scene of
confusion, and all the trees in the vicmity, thorny or other-
wise, became popular, not to say populous. Meanwhile I
moved round to the other side of the hill, and sent a bullet
after that rhino just to hurry him up, so that we might get
back to business again.

The other two, as might have been expected, were the cow
and her calf. It is always a case of Papa, Mama and Baby
when there are three rhinos together. Mama seemed a bit
crusty but made no attempt to charge, so I left her alone and
she eventually moved slowly off. Then the safari, having
collected itself, collected its belongings, formed up, and we
were off once more.

The next day we moved on to a point near Namanga Hill.
I shot some more dik-dik ; it was getting a bit monotonous
as regards both sport and diet, but there was little else to be
seen.

Next morning we started out early, and after a short stalk
I managed to bag a very nice gerenuk. Then, on our way
over a rocky hill, we spied a rhino across a narrow valley.
We had shot our two, but the licence doesn't prevent one
from snap-shotting as many as one pleases. So Duirs went
after him to try and get a photograph, while I remained on the
crest of the hill, watching through my glasses and signalling
the direction in which he was to go. Buried as he was in the
thick bush, it was, of course, quite impossible for him to see
the animal. I did my best and so did he ; but the beast
unfortunately turned off into some thick bush which it was
impossible for anything without a rhino's hide to penetrate,
and so Duirs had to give up without getting his photograph.
The road over Namanga Hill was very difficult going, rocky
and stony in the extreme. We camped finally on the river
about three miles beyond the hill.

Sunday, Dec. 1th. We started at 5.50 for a long march
into Archer's Post. There were two rhino just on the other
side of the river, and I took photos of them. We got in to
Archer's Post at 1.30. There I found Nicolas, very much
upset over the disappearance of one of his men, who had

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AFTER BIG GAME

charge of the store at Meru. We knew something of this ;
for a party of poHce mounted on camels had been exploring •
the country round the river in the hope of getting some news
of him, and had stayed with us in one of our camps. From
what they could gather a party of Borans from Abyssinia
had come to the store demanding provisions. As they had
no money to pay for them, he of course refused, saying he
must first have a letter from the headman. This they
promised to get but did not, and later in the evening gathered
round the store in considerable numbers, threatening to help
themselves. They were warned that if they attempted to
use force the agent would certainly not hesitate to use his
rifle. They paid no attention whatever, but began tearing
away the branches surrounding the camp. First writing a
letter explaining the circumstances, the agent started to shoot,
with what effect is not known, though many traces of blood
were subsequently found. He kept them off until darkness
fell, and then escaped through a small hole in the fence at
the back of the camp. So far so good. But the Borans,
noticing that the firing had ceased, rushed the camp, only
to find that he was no longer there. But he had left his two
dogs tethered in his camp, and the Borans liberated these
and set them on their master's trail. They followed it up
delightedly, and so betrayed him to the enemy, who came
swiftly after. His body was found hacked almost to pieces
some eight miles up the river.

Monday, Dec. 8th. We spent the whole of this day getting
our heads and skins put into proper order, and in making
arrangements for the return journey. In Nairobi there are
many people who will see to the preserving and packing of
the trophies for the home journey, but unless one is careful
they may be ruined before they get to Nairobi. The chief
danger, provided they have been properly dried, is that of
attacks from beetles, and against this some kind of dip is
essential. An arsenical dip is usually employed.

Tuesday, Dec. 9th. We left Archer's Post at seven in the
morning, after saying good-bye to our friends there. I did
not want to go too far, however, as I had set my mind on
getting a photograph of a lion chargmg. And as I could only

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ON SAFARI

make certain of getting in touch with one at night-time, I
had brought along a flashhght apparatus. As the Ngara
Mara seemed a hkely spot for hon, we determined to make
our experiment there, so pitched camp at an elevation of
3200 feet. It was already getting cooler, the temperature
being only 62° F. at 6 a.m. I shot two zebra for bait and left
them to get nice and flavoury by the next night ; and this,
judging by the smell, they did. We had, of course, to see
that they were protected from the jackals and hyaenas during
the night, and against the carrion birds by day.

Wednesday, Dec. 10th. We made a thorn boma for our
sitting up. In spite of the thorns we had surrounded it with,
we found that one of our zebra had been almost entirely
eaten up by hyaenas. But the other was intact, and its odour
was sufficiently powerful to attract any lion within a mile or
so. Duirs and I went to the boma at 4 p.m. and started to
set up the flashlight camera, which took us until it was dark.
Then we sent the porters back to camp, keeping only our
three gun-bearers. Our dinner, which had been cooking while
we were setting up the camera, was still in the pots, and we
took these into the boma with us. It was a cheerful meal.
We had to use our hands to feel what we were eating, for
knives and forks were quite out of the question, squatted as
we were on the ground in pitch dark. We finished our hand-
to-mouth dimier without incident. A couple of hyaenas
came near and gave us a cheering howl or so, a herd of zebra
was feeding quite close and kept neighing for some consider-
able time, and in the distance we could hear lion growling.
There was nothing for it but to wait. It was a good sign
tliat the hyaenas kept off, and we hoped for the best. We
waited until eleven o'clock, and then I saw a big lion zig-
zagging up to the bait in the usual casual way. The moon
was nearly full and I could see him quite clearly. A few paces
forward and tlien sit down. Then a few more stealthy paces
and crouch again. At last he suddenly made up his mind,
sprang on to the zebra and gp,ve it a heavy blow with his paw.
The moment he sprang 1 pulled the string of the camera.
We were all blinded with the flash, and the lion roared and
bolted.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Shortly after midnight, however, he came back, approach-
ing as cautiously as before, and I got a good shot at him
with my -465. He went off with a roar ; but in a few seconds
I could hear coughing groans from some 60 or 70 yards away,
so I concluded that he was all right for the morning. This
moonlight shooting is very tricky. I have found that one
has a tendency to " overlook " an animal ; so that it is best
to take him fairly low, particularly as it is not easy to get
a line on him because of the difficulty in seeing the foresight.

After a little a jackal came up, and when he saw the lion
he started and barked just as a dog might do, and kept it
up for quite a considerable time. Other lions came around,
quite close to the boma. We could hear them snuffling and
grunting, but they did not come to eat. Either they were
not hungry or the smell of the powder or some other unusual
feature kept them off. Some may imagine that sitting up in
a boma is not a particularly romantic or risky way of dealing
with lions. Apart from the fact that it is the surest way
of getting into touch with lions, there is quite danger and
uncertainty enough about it to give it a zest. Further,
there is the long, silent watch ; the strain of listening for
their stealthy tread ; the distant growling through the hushed
stillness of the night ; the savage snarling and roaring as
they worry their prey only a few yards away. Especially
when it is dark, and you hear all this close by you, and can
only see a dark mass when the beast gets up against the sky-
line, and when for all you know some extra suspicious brute
may at any moment take it into his head to charge through
your peephole, you will get quite as much excitement as is
good for you during a night's vigil in a boma.

In the morning we found the lion dead ; and a magnificent
specimen he was, 9 feet 2 inches over all, with a very fine long
black mane. While skinning the carcass we found several
B.B. shot in him, and although he was a large lion he was
very thin. The wounds did not look very old, and the rump
of his tail had also been damaged, apparently by a bullet.
As no other white hunter had been shootmg in this neighbour-
hood for some three years, we took this to be the beast that
had badly mauled a partner of Mr Nicolas about five weeks

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On.' Niulit's Kil

Lionesses and Buma.

ON SAFARI

before. It appears that he went out after Hon m the daytime,
accompanied by a Somah gmi-bearer. He saw the beast,
and fired, but did not succeed in hitting him in a vital spot.
The Hon turned on him, threw him down, and bit him badly.
The Somali pluckily rushed in, and fired his gun, which was
loaded with B.B. shot, into the beast at close quarters,
whereupon the lion turned tail and went off.

After skimiing the animal we returned to the camp, and on
the way back we saw a small dead zebra pulled up into the
fork of a tree. We concluded that this was the work of a
leopard, which often drags its kill up mto a tree m this way,
and determined to set a trap for liim mider the tree, which
we did.

Friday, Dec. 12th. We were ready to march quite early,
but had to wait for Hutton, who had gone out to visit the trap.
He got back about 6.30 a.m. with a very prettily marked
leopard ; it was, however, rather on the small side, bemg only
7 feet long.

There are plenty of leopards in this country, but one
seldom has a chance to shoot one. The beast is amazingly
cunning ; he will not, as a rule, come to a kill as a lion does ;
and leopards are so skilful m making use of cover that they
are rarely seen. You may pass within a few yards of one
concealed in grass or beneath a tree, where he lies extended
along a bough, and be totally unaware of his presence. Even
supposing you do see one, any shot you may get is likely to
be the sharpest of snaps with very little likeliliood of dropping
the beast. And as to the following of a womided leopard into
the cover which it invariably seeks, well, I am prepared to
leave that to other sportsmen, with more courage than dis-
cretion. For the beast, in addition to its wariness and
cunning, and its extraordinary capacity for concealment, is
courageous in the extreme when driven to bay, and will fight
furiously against any odds. He is a wonderful climber,
and can on occasion manage to get heavy weights up into a
tree, as in the case of the young zebra we found m the fork,
at a height of ten feet from the ground. Although one does
not often see him, his spoor is fairly abundant ; and you may
now and again come across his kill, which is recognisable
N 193

AFTER BIG GAME

from the fact that after dealing with the abdominal viscera,
he starts on the end of the breast-bone and the soft ends of
the ribs, while a lion, after eating the viscera, almost invariably
starts upon the hind quarters.

We got under way at seven o'clock, and camped on the
Isiola (Campi Sanduku, altitude 3700 feet, temperature
58° F. at 6 A.M.). Nicolas sent a boy on after us with three
telegrams which had been forwarded by post from Nyeri.
This morning I took a lot of photographs of game but did no
shooting. We propose to press on as fast as we can, as we
are all anxious to get back to civilisation again, and hope to
reach Nyeri this day week.

Saturday, Bee. 13th. We marched at 6.30 a.m. to Swamp
Camp (Cainpi Tinga Tinga, altitude 5700 feet, temperature
at 6 A.M. 56° F.). The porters did not get in till 2 p.m. and
were rather fagged. Fifteen miles is a long day's march over
comitry like this, particularly as it mvolved a rise of 2000 feet.
We feel the change in climate, too, the air being much fresher
and keener. One advantage is that one has no tendency to
perspire. I took some photos of giraffe coming up, and shot
a Brighti and some of the local guinea-fowl. These were
very good eating and are fairly numerous. They make a
tremendous noise at night with their " clank, clank," when
they are settling down just before going to roost, with much
noisy jostlmg and a great flapping of wings. There are several
kinds : one, the vultui'me guinea-fowl, is really a fine bird
with a long tail like a hen pheasant, thick neck hackles and
bright blue feathers on the breast and shoulders. The head
and neck are bare and of a kind of lead colom% giving a
distinct resemblance to the vulture.

Among other game birds wliich we shot were francolins,
of which there are numerous varieties, all of the partridge
and grouse type, wood pigeons and quails. There are plenty
of sand grouse in the bush country, but they are very small
and hardly worth shooting. The bush bustard, too, is very
good.

From this point we had a fine view of Mount Kenia standing
up bright and clear with plenty of snow right above us. The
next day, Sunday the 14th, we started for Makindi, but

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ON SAFARI

determined to go up the mountain, this track being two miles
nearer Nairobi. We camped near the top of the ridge in a
glade of the cedar forest (7200 feet ; temperature 54° F.) and
found it very cold after the heat of the plains.

I went out after a Jacksoni, but I got only a cow, from
which I derived very little satisfaction. Even for eating
purposes the hartebeest is the least attractive of all the
antelopes, being tough and coarse. A cut from the saddle is
edible, and that is all I should care to say in its favour. Of
all the food that falls to one's gun I fancy that the dik-dik
has the most delicate flavour. The oryx is capital eatmg
and so is the impala. Indeed, all the gazelles are well
flavoured. The eland is as good as beef, and very good beef
at that ; the meat is a trifle on the fat side, but even that is
a fault in the right direction. The water-buck is coarse,
stringy and rank. The boys, however, do not object to the
flesh. They are also very fond of zebra, I fancy mainly
because of the fat, of which there is always a layer under-
neath the skin. The meat of Grevy's zebra tastes rather
like veal.

Monday, Dec. 15th. We started off at 6.30 a.m. and crossed
the crown of the ridge. I took a reading of the aneroid at
the highest point, 7700 feet. It was distinctly cold, and
there was a sharp frost. I went out again after Jacksoni,
and after some time spied a good buck. Unfortunately he
spied me too. He was apparently the watchman of the herd,
for the hartebeest is the most alert of all the wild things.
When the herd is grazing, sentries are always set on some
point, sometimes an anthill, from which they can command
the country round ; and the sentry is usually an old buck with
eyes like a hawk. Anyhow, off he went. The gait is ridi-
culously awkward, but he manages to cover the ground at
a rare rate, much faster than his ungainly appearance would
suggest as possible. However, 1 chased him for a great
while, and finally dropped him with a long shot. We camped
on the Leeswara, three miles nearer Nairobi than our old
camp. (Campi Bcridi, altitude G700 feet, temperature at
G A.M. 54° F.)

Tuesday, Dec. Hith. We started out at six o'clock, it bemg

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AFTER BIG GAME

still very cold, and made for our old camp on the Rongai
river, where we had put up on the way out. Here we met Mr
David Forbes, who has a farm in the neighbourhood. We
also saw another safari going out ; " Baron Francette " was
marked on the boxes. It was going in great style, headed by
a porter carrying a flag, red, white and green — Italian, I fancy,
but I could not get a clear view of it. I have no doubt that
it would make a vast impression on the Samburu and the
Borans if the safari got so far. Duirs went up to call on Mr
Price, who also has a farm in this locality, but unfortunately
found that he was away from home.

Wednesday, Dec. 17th. There was a slight shower during
the night, and I woke at 5 a.m. feeling very damp and cold.
The thermometer registered 48° F. We got off at 6.30 and
marched to the north of Songari hill, where we made our last
camp, hoping to be in Nyeri early the following day. We
struck camp at 6.30 the next morning, but I would not wait
for the safari, and riding on ahead got to Nyeri at 11 a.m. I
went at once to the post office to wire to Nairobi for a motor
to be sent up for me, but did not get a reply to my wire until
the next day, and then it was to say that no cars would be
available until Saturday night. So I had all the boxes re-
packed, and started the safari off to Nairobi at noon. Then
there was nothing to do but to sit down and wait for the car,
which I accordingly did. Three came up on Saturday, but
none of them was for me. However, I made arrangements
to return in one of them should mine not arrive.

Sunday, Dec. 21st. Started off at 6.30 a.m. in a Ford car.
Mr Trigg, the driver, had filled all the car which we did not
occupy with lion -skins, and after lunching at the Blue Posts
we reached Nairobi at 3 p.m., after a most tiring drive. We
had one great fright on the road, as the big lion -skin, which
had been done up in salt and sewed into a bag about two feet
square, was jolted out on to the road without our noticing it.
When we found that it had gone we turned back, and after a
run of four and a half miles fortunately discovered an excited
gang of natives at the roadside busily engaged in mifastening
the stitches to see what prize they had got. They said, of
course, that they were going to take it to the police station.

196

ON SAFARI

I gave them a trifle and they were quite satisfied, and we
proceeded.

Duirs arranged to meet the safari on Christmas morning
and give all the porters five rupees apiece.

We spent our Christmas at the Norfolk Hotel at Nairobi.
I was glad to get back to civilisation again after three months
in the wild ; but I made up my mind to start on safari again,
after a week or two's rest, going down between Voi and Tsavo
after the lesser kudu and the Oryx Callotis.

iii. vol AND TSAVO

My trip to that portion of the famous Serengetti plains
which lies to the south of the railway between Voi and Tsavo
and the German boundary was a short one, sandwiched in
between the two longer expeditions to the Guaso Nyiro and
the Laikipia plains. This region, particularly the slopes to
the south-east of Kilima Njaro, is the home of the famous
fringe-eared oryx {Oryx Callotis), and I particularly wanted to
add this trophy to my collection. As a matter of fact I ought
not to have gone, as I was still feeling the after effects of the
attack of dysentery which terminated the safari to the Guaso
Nyiro. But there was yet a fortnight before the start for the
Laikipia plains, and the temptation proved too strong. So
on Tuesday, January 20th, Duirs, who was to be my com-
panion on this trip also, made a start by catching, by the
merest of flukes, the down mixed train to Tsavo. He left
Nairobi at 11.30 a.m. and reached Tsavo just twelve hours
later. The safari was in waiting, and as soon as day broke
he moved camp a mile or so farther down the river, and settled
down to await my coming on the next day. I also took the
down " mixed," got to Tsavo and went on to the camp.
We began our trip by sitting in front of the tent eating fruit
until 2 A.M.

On the 22nd we moved down to the junction of the Tsavo
and Athi rivers. The bush was very thick here, and there
appeared to be plenty of spoor, especially of the lesser kudu,
so that we were justified in anticipating good sport. But
our anticipation was certainly not borne out by results. This

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day we made no attempt to shoot anything, but contented
ourselves with looking round. The next day we arranged
with the stationmaster to send the safari to Maungu while
we went after kudu or any other game that might be handy,
fresh meat being very scarce in the camp. We came across
fresh elephant, rhino and buffalo spoor, and followed some
of the more promising tracks several miles down the river,
without, however, seeing horn or hoof. We concluded that
the beasts had been making for Malindi, a favourite refuge
for the big game of this district, and one that is for some
reason or other rarely troubled by the hunter. A little later,
however, we happened quite accidentally across a herd of
buffaloes. The bush was so dense that we could scarcely see
them even when quite close. But the wind was hopeless,
and it was useless even attempting a shot at them. I got
back to the camp very tired and done up. After riding many
miles and then walking for a very long distance in a cramped
position as we had done, the muscles of one's legs become
cramped and feel as if they were tied into knots.

The following day, Saturday, we had another long search
after kudu, but with no better luck than before. The ground
here was very rough, and we came across one weird place
where the river had forced its way through the granite rocks,
forming a wild gorge. There had evidently been a big water-
fall here before the river had cut its way through. The next
day we went to the station with the intention of following
our safari to Maungu. The train came in absolutely packed,
with apparently not a vacant place in it. Yet somehow we
managed to stow ourselves and our belongings on board, and
after a most uncomfortable journey reached Maungu at half-
past two in the morning. After a brief night's rest I went
out at dawn and missed a fine buck. I was greatly annoyed.
He gave me a capital chance, a clear shot through some
bushes. I can only imagine that the shot must have struck
a twig and so have been deflected. To add to my exaspera-
tion, I got no further chance that day. On the next day,
Tuesday 27th, I again had a very long tramp without result.
Evidently the reports of those sportsmen who represent the
Serengetti plains as swarming with game are a trifle on the

198

ON SAFARI

exaggerated side. However, to make amends, I shot a very
good kudu buck when on my way back to the camp at night.
Wednesday was a repetition of Tuesday. I went a long way
north of the railway line and saw only one kudu buck during
the whole day, and he did not condescend to give me a
shot.

Thursday brought no better luck. I was out at dawn. A
solitary kudu bull was feeding close by behind my tent.
After looking him over I concluded that he was rather on the
small side, and so did not shoot, and as there was nothing else
in sight, came back to the camp and determined to move
farther up the hill to a spot about four miles off. The heat
here was terrific. At noon to-day it was 122° in the shade
and 149° F. in the sun. I seemed to feel it, too, more than
ordinary ; at any rate I didn't feel inclined to attempt much
shooting for the next two days. On the Friday, indeed, I
went out and, seeing a kudu, followed him up ; but when I
got near enough to see him properly I found he was too young
and so did not fire. I wasn't feeling particularly fit, and the
next day decided to move a little nearer the station. This
we did, and I rested in camp for the day.

Sunday, Feb. 1st. I felt rather better and went out as
usual. We saw no kudu, but at about 1.30 ran straight into
a herd of buffalo. The bush was much too thick to make
them out at all distinctly, but I could just dimly define the
outlines of three. One, I could see, was a cow. The second,
before I could make quite certain about him, walked off into
the bush and disappeared from sight, and the third I shot.
He turned out to be rather a nice bull, although he was a bit
on the small side. I shot him with the -465, and it is a
testimony to the stopping power of this weapon that he only
went about 25 yards after the bullet struck him. The cow,
however, had winded us and was running round and round
me in a circle, and I was rather afraid that she would give
some trouble. But we all lay perfectly still in the grass, and
finding that there was nothing to be seen she gave it up and
trotted away through the scrub. There was an open path
quite close to her which she could have taken had she chosen ;
but she didn't, a fact which seems to me to prove that the

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buffalo's hide is too tough for even the thorns of the African
bush. We got back to camp, tired after a long and some-
what exciting day, and settled that we would go up to Voi
on Tuesday night.

On Monday nothing happened. We saw several kudu, but
did not shoot any, and on Tuesday we caught the up mixed
train as we had arranged, and reached Voi in time for dinner.
There we met Mr Hirtzel, who very kindly offered to drive us
out to his camp in his car. On Wednesday he did so. The
camp was about thirty miles out along the Taveta road, near
to a hill called Mactow, which is a favourite camping place,
because one can usually find water among the rocks. We
had some trouble at first in getting the car across the Voi
river, but as we had anticipated this, and had taken the pre-
caution to send eight boys in advance to wait for us at the
ford, we managed to shove the car over. The route here is
through some very interesting scenery, bush and woodland,
with beautiful mountain ranges in the distance. In the after-
noon Mr Hirtzel, Duirs and I went off in the car, chasing
giraffe through the bush. It was quite a novel experience,
though it was a marvel to me how the car held together.
The plains were very rough and uneven, and old water holes
were plentiful. As we were for the most part doing about
twenty miles an hour, the trip was not without its discomforts.
I got my first glimpse of an oryx, and fired and wounded him
pretty badly ; but the car must have frightened him, for he
bolted at a surprising pace and soon disappeared among the
bushes. As it was getting late, and Mr Hirtzel had to get
back to Voi that night, we were unable to follow him up ;
and so we left him, much against my wish, as, apart from my
desire to get an oryx there is nothing I detest more than
leaving a badly wounded animal to its fate. So we returned
to camp, and about 4.30 Hirtzel started off for Voi.

In the morning I shot a lesser kudu. Hirtzel turned up
at noon, but at 3.30 set off again for Taveta, about twenty
miles away, promising to return and pick us up about seven
o'clock at a point on the transport road which runs from Voi
through Taveta to Moschi in German East Africa. Taveta
lies almost on the frontier, at the foot of the slopes of Kiliraa

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ON SAFARI

Njaro. Just at sundown I managed to bring down my first
fringe-eared oryx. As it was getting late and we were due
to meet Hirtzel, we had to leave the skin, but I sent my gun-
bearer to cut off the head. We got to the road at the spot
appointed a quarter of an hour late, but could see no sign of
any car ; so after waiting a while we concluded that some-
thing had happened, and proceeded to make ourselves as
comfortable as possible by building a fire and making a scratch
meal off the tongue of the oryx, which was all the food we
had with us. We were ravenously hungry and thoroughly
enjoyed it, the only fault being that there wasn't enough.
Then we dozed and watched alternately, until about 11.30 the
lights of the motor hove in sight across the distant plain.
Hirtzel had met the fate that I had been anticipating all the
previous afternoon : he had run the car into a hole and had
had great trouble in getting out again. We quickly got on
board, and without further mishap arrived at his camp at
one in the morning, very tired and more than ready to do
justice to the belated dinner that was awaiting us.

On Friday we set off again in the car ; and this time,
driving carefully, we got right into the middle of a herd of
giraffe. A little later we encountered a herd of eland, and
went straight through them. It was astonishing to see what
little notice they took of us. We were within twenty yards
of the nearest and yet they did not seem in the least frightened
by the car. Hirtzel took some capital photographs of both
herds. During the afternoon I shot a second oryx ; and
then, having got what I wanted, we motored back to Voi,
reaching it about 5 p.m. ; had a hot bath and dinner, both
very welcome ; and then took train for Nairobi, which we
reached on Saturday, February 7th.

The fringe-eared oryx, which is rarely, if ever, found
outside the Kilima Njaro district, differs from the Beisa in
that its ears end in a thick tuft of black hairs. As in the
Beisa, the black patch on the face is completely separated
from the black stripes which run through each eye. The
upper part of the face is of a rich fawn colour.

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IV. THE LAIKIPIA PLAINS

The story of our trip across the Laikipia plains is based
upon two records, my husband's and my own, and the host
of memories revived by reading them. It is not an attempt
to make the most of our experiences, or to thrill the reader
with stories of hairbreadth escapes or perils by flood and field,
but a plain and often, I fear, uneventful record of facts as they
happened and the feelings to which they gave rise at the
time. Neither of us had any idea, when writing up the rough
diaries of our safari, that our notes would ever see the light
in this fashion. Had I thought so, mine, at any rate, might
have been less casual and more exact. But my sole desire
at the time was to preserve some kind of record of a journey
which, however commonplace it might have been for some
people, was for me an experience as extraordinary as de-
lightful.

We had originally planned a safari to the Serengetti plains
as my introduction to the life of the wilds. Sir Henry and
Lady Belfield had kindly consented that their daughter
Monica should accompany us. I could not have had a more
delightful companion. Needless to say, we were both greatly
excited. Unfortunately, after all our arrangements were
made, the Governor was informed that practically everyone
who had recently been to the district had suffered from a
particularly nasty form of fever, and refused to allow his
daughter to go if we still determined to carry out our original
plan.

Meanwhile my husband had returned from his three months
on the Guaso Nyiro with a bad attack of dysentery, and was
very ill indeed for some days ; so ill, in fact, that our boys
deserted us, for what reason I could not at the time imagine.
I have since learned that they have a superstitious dread of
being with a white man at his death, and promptly leave
anyone whom they consider likely to die. Fortunately I
was able to do all that was necessary, and through the skill
of Dr Gilks of Nairobi he pulled round and recovered so
speedily that he was able to start at the end of January for
Voi with Mr Duirs on a fortnight's safari after the fringe-

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ON SAFARI

eared oryx. On February the 7th he returned to Nairobi,
and determined, rather than abandon our trip, to transfer
the scene of our operations to the Laikipia plains. Every-
thing was ready for a start on the 11th.

Wednesday, Feb. 11th, 1914. This is a red-letter day, since
on this date I started on my first safari. The party con-
sisted of Monie Belfield, Duirs. my husband and myself.
We had a very busy day packing up at the Norfolk,
and finally ]\Ir Dudgeon brought round his car and drove
Robert and myself to the station, where we found Monie
waiting. We had a special train to Gil-Gil, three compart-
ments of which were filled with the porters and askaris, cooks
and tent boys of the safari. The mules were in a horse-box,
and Robert and Duirs went into one compartment
and Monie and I into another. Yussif prepared our beds
with their khaki pillows and four Jaeger blankets apiece, in
readiness for the cold of the great climb up the escarpment.
At Kiku^Ti we dined in our compartment and then retired.

We reached Gil-Gil very early in the morning, before dawn,
but Robert arranged with the stationmaster to run our
carriage into a siding, so that we slept on undisturbed until
6.30, when Yussif brought our usual morning cup of tea.
At eight we dressed and went out. Duirs was busy
serving out posho to the men. They have three days' allow-
ance at a time, and they carry it in a little sack which they
stuff down the backs of their jerseys, giving them a comically
hunch-backed appearance.

They had put up a tent for us, our breakfast-table being
laid under the fly. Monie and I went off to watch it being
cooked on a quaint little fireplace made of big stones. We
had porridge made from mealies, just like the men's posho,
but, I expect, rather more carefully prepared, then bacon
and chops with fried onion and tea.

We were to wait here for the wagons to carry our spare
boxes, as we were taking only 60 men as porters. Finally,
as they did not turn up, we made up our minds to start,
leaving all the boxes which the men could not carry to be
picked up when the wagons should arrive. These wagons,
by the way, arc very heavy and solidly built. Nothing else

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could stand the terrific daily jolting over the pathless plains.
Each was drawn by sixteen pair of oxen. These were power-
ful beasts, yet they found great difficulty in moving the
wagons over some of the rough and stony ground we met.

It was very interesting to watch the boys loading up.
They were a fine lot and evidently well trained, for they did
it most methodically. I was specially taken with the way
in which they twisted their red safari blankets into a kind
of rope, which was then coiled upon the head turban-wise to
form a pad for the load. Two men were necessary for this
business, each taking one end and twisting the blanket very
tightly. It seemed incredible that it should go into so small
a compass as to look like an ordinary turban, but it did. As
each in turn completed his pad, his fellow helped him up with
his load, and finally the safari fell into line and started on
the march.

After all had filed off, Monie and I chose our mules and
rode off, soon overtaking our porters. The way at first was
easy, as there was a well-beaten track. Soon, however, this
became narrower and fainter and the way grew rougher,
until at last we reached a small river running between banks
of solid rock. Here the mules struck and, refusing to move,
stood all in a bunch on the bank. Finally Duirs forced
his across, and the others followed like lambs.

The view here was very beautiful, with Lake Naivasha in
the distance, the nearer plains beautifully green, and beyond
the next ridge the dim blue line of the Aberdare Range. As
there was good water, a most important consideration in
camping, we decided to pitch here for our first night under
canvas. It was three o'clock now, and before long the porters
arrived, singing, shouting and happy, and looking not at all
fatigued by their burdens of 60 lb. apiece — the official load —
together with, in most cases, a considerable quantity of
personal effects. I saw for the first time the process of
pitching camp. It is delightful to watch : each man has his
appointed task — fetching wood or water, building fireplaces,
pitching tents and what not, and all is done with excellent
precision and amazing expedition. In half-an-hour the fires
were burning cheerfully and we sat down to tea on chairs at

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a table placed under the fly of the tent. Then we reclined
in long chairs until Duirs brought out a small rifle, and
Monie and I in turn shot at a paper target, practising for the
great days that we hoped were to come.

In the distance we could see ostriches, kongoni and warthog,
and we sat and watched them. By this time all the tents
were up and ever}i:hing was laid out ; great fires were burn-
ing cheerfully, and there was plenty of hot water. We had
hot baths, and alter a rest dined in our top-coats, for it was
bitterly cold, in the open, under the flap of Duirs' tent.
We had capital soup, mutton, curry, asparagus and coffee ;
and then, after thoroughly warming ourselves at the great
camp fire, retired to rest. By nine o'clock I was ready for
bed, having thoroughly enjoyed my first day's safari. I
peeped out once more to see an exquisite full moon suffusing
the landscape with golden light, and casting beautiful velvety
shadows wherever there was a rock or a bush. The boys were
standing round the fires and piling up logs on them in readi-
ness for the night, and one could see the flicker of the fire-
light glowing on their shining skins, while the distant hills
looked mysteriously lovely against the glorious moonlit sky.

Friday, Feb. 13th. At six o'clock I awoke feeling very cold.
The camp was already astir, so I called to Yussif to bring me
tea and a hot-water bottle. Then, warmed and refreshed, I
got up and dressed in riding kit — field boots and knickers,
coat and a khaki topee. At seven we had breakfast at a
little table set in the open — porridge with tinned milk, bacon
and coffee. Meanwhile the camp was being packed up.
The boys worked very swiftly and smoothly ; and the tents
came down, the beds and furniture were folded up and all
the various items disappeared each into its appropriate place
as if by magic. Then at 7.30 we trekked, our aim being to
reach the head waters of the Morandet in the day's march.

The plain, which looks level at a distance, turned out on
close acquaintance to be waved into great undulations like
the swell of some vast sea, so that we were conthuially climb-
ing up some gentle slope or descending into a corresponding
shallow depression. The grass is thin on the ridges but denser
and higher in the hollows. Here and there are brushwood

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thickets, and every now and again we crossed some stony
ravine, evidently a water-course in the rainy season.

There is game everywhere, chiefly zebra and kongoni.
With the naked eye, we could pick them out as tiny dots
against the landscape ; with the glass we could see great
herds, " thousands feeding as one " ; and then our imagina-
tion, stirred by the sight, could picture the great plains rolling
on for hundreds of miles, and wonder at the quantity of game
still to be found in this sportsman's paradise.

At 10 o'clock Duirs shot a kongoni. This was our first
kill, and we went down to inspect it and saw the natives start
to cut it up — a rather gruesome operation until use has made
it a commonplace of the day's work. The sun was now
horribly hot, a great contrast from the cold of the morning.
One of the bearers caught sight of a leopard stealthily creep-
ing among the long grass and bushes at some distance off.
We at once dismounted, and Monica and I lay down, while
Robert and Duirs began to stalk the beast. We were
nearly roasted by the heat. The ground was hot and the sun
beat down like a furnace. We could feel ourselves shrivelling
up, and were heartily glad when in half-an-hour or so we
heard three shots, the signal to mount once more and ride
on. They had hit the leopard, but unfortunately it managed
to get away ; not an uncommon experience with the most
elusive beast of the African wilds.

We were glad when, after a little while, we got out of the
hot plain into a delightful little hollow with clumps of
trees and bushes. Here we came on a couple of warthogs.
They stood about fifty yards away, gazing on us, when
Duirs fired and wounded one, followed it up and killed it.
This is without a doubt the ugliest beast in East Africa, and
I should imagine in the whole world. His name and his
repulsive appearance are derived from two pairs of warty
protuberances on the face between the eyes and the tushes.
Warthogs are usually found in pairs, feeding by day and
lying up in holes at night. They go into these holes back-
wards, so as to be ready for defence if necessary. It is rather
amusing to see the warthogs rooting in the ground, each on
his knees, with his hind legs sticking out straight behind.

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When disturbed they make off in a quaint lumbering gallop,
with their tails sticking up straight in the air. The gun-
bearers quickly cut off the head, and left the remains for the
vultures and jackals that had already collected and were
waiting in a noisy, squabbling circle until we should depart.

By this time we were rather tired, and finding shelter, dis-
mounted. The syces took our mules, and we lay under a big
shady tree, and in a few minutes were sound asleep. Mean-
while the safari was coming up, and when I was awakened
I found the tents up and a lunch-tea ready, with bread and
butter, sardines, cheese and fruit and tea. Nowhere have I
ever appreciated the refreshing qualities of tea more than
in the African wilds. Then Monie and I rested in our
tents while the men went out to look for meat. Duirs
returned with two Thomson's gazelle of a new variety, each
having an extra cream-coloured line above the black band
which the "Tommy " bears on its sides. Robert had shot
a zebra, much to the delight of the men, who are very fond of
its flesh, which is almost invariably fat. They like fat, and
there is little on most of the game meat shot here. In the
evening huge fires were lit, partly for protection and partly
for warmth. It was not quite so cold here, although we were
still over 8000 feet above the sea ; nevertheless we were glad
to dine in our overcoats, and after chatting a while round the
fire retired for the night.

Saturday, Feb. lUh. We made no march to-day, but
stayed in camp (Campi Nyana). The men went out early,
but Monie and I rested in the shade in our long chairs, lazily
watching the boys, the game, the birds and butterflies, and
enjoying our rest. Robert returned about 10,30 with a
serval cat. He had stalked two leopards, but failed to
get within shooting distance. Duirs had gone back on
oiu" tracks to try to get news of the belated wagons. He
fortunately succeeded in locating them, and got back about
six o'clock, also with a serval cat. This is quite a big animal,
a good specimen measuring as much as 4 feet 9 inches in
length, of which about 10 inches is represented by the tail ;
but it is not particularly handsome, being leggy in build
and poor in colour.

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Meanwhile Robert had gone out with the idea of replenish-
ing our larder and came back with two steinbuck and a zebra.
He had also shot a jackal which was annoy ingly attentive.
It was very cold in the evening, and after duiner we sat close
round the fire. We had kongoni's marrow as a special dish,
and I found it excellent.

Sunday, Feb. 15th. It was colder than ever at 6 a.m. and
I was very thankful when Yussif came in with my tea and a
hot -water bottle. We did not breakfast until 9.30, when we
had " Tommy's " brams made into cakes. After the men had
gone off, Monie and I strolled round the camp, and became
greatly excited over some moving objects we could see in
the far distance, which we thought might possibly be lions.
To our huge disappointment, they turned out on a nearer
view to be a couple of Somalis out on trek. But our walk
was immensely interesting. There was plenty of animal life,
including kongoni, zebra, and ostriches ; and we amused
ourselves by watching them and then lay down basking in
the sun before returning to camp to lunch. Duirs came
back shortly after, having shot three Chanler's reed-buck ;
and then Robert returned very tired, with a bag consisting
of five klipspringers and a kongoni for the boys. Duirs
also killed a snake, one of the very few we came across
in our wanderings. After dinner we sat round the fire a
while, but in spite of the great blaze we were shivering with
cold and were glad to retire to the warmth of the blankets.
A camp fire is more picturesque than effective, one's face
being roasted while the cold still holds one's back in a grip
of ice.

Monday, Feb. 16th. We were to move to-day to Lake El
Bolossat, so were awake early. Fortmiately I did not feel
the cold so much as on the preceding days, and suppose that
I was becoming acclimatised. While we were waiting for
breakfast some vultures arrived, attracted perhaps by the
scent of the food, and settled in a tree about fifty yards
away. Duirs gave me his small rifle. I picked out a bird
sitting alone on a tree-top and fired. He dropped dead,
shot through the head. Of course I was immensely proud
and began to dream of shooting something bigger and more

208

In Camp.

'as>iii;: tliiuii;.'|i a (lor^'c

ON SAFARI

imposing than a vulture. I tried a second bird but missed him
altogether. Monie also tried, with similar lack of success,
and then we gave it up. We had finished breakfast by seven
o'clock and sat watching the ever-fascinating process of
striking camp. When the safari had moved off in a long
straggling line, we mounted our mules and went off across the
plain. It was astonishing to see how tame, or rather how
fearless, many of the wild creatures were. They would often
let us come up quite close before they would scamper off to a
little distance, and then stop and wait for us again. While
Robert was riding down a jackal, Monie and I rode right in
among a herd of zebra. We were quite close to them, but
they never moved until our syce came up, when they galloped
off. The syce is supposed to run alongside the mule in case
he is wanted or anything goes wrong ; but they usually drop
behind and trot and chat together.

In front of us all day was the grey line of the Aberdare
Range. About noon a bluish vapour seemed to rise in front
of us, and out of it gradually appeared beautiful lakes and
islands adorned with palm groves. It was the mirage of
which one had heard so much. As we drew near the de-
lightful picture faded, leaving only the bare black plain,
covered by burned off grass, the ashes of a great fire that had
devastated the country for miles. No one seems to know
how these fires start ; but the parched grass ignites every
year, and a huge fire spreads for many miles across the plains,
often burning down great stretches of jungle and forest. A
few weeks later exquisitely tender green grass shoots up
everywhere. Nature's provision for feeding the stock.

Between one and two o'clock we came in sight of Lake El
Bolossat. Anywhere but in Africa it would be a great inland
sea. It lies at the foot of the northern end of the Aberdare
Range. Between the lake and the burned-out plain we found
a welcome oasis, consisting of a tmy river, a lovely little
forest of cedar and mimosa, and a delightful patch of green
sward for our camphig-ground. Here we sat down to wait
for the safari, and in ten minutes our boys had a meal ready
and we rested until the porters came up. Then Monie and
I started to climb the hill, about 400 feet high. Monie, being
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AFTER BIG GAME

young and active, reached the top ; I was content to go a
very sliort distance up, while Robert and Duirs went down
to the reeds and rank thistles towards the lake in the usual
quest for game.

They were very successful, Robert getting two bohor
reed-buck and two bush-buck, and Duirs one of each.
This bohor reed -buck is a bigger animal than Chanler's
reed-buck which we got the previous day, and is distinct in
colour, bemg of a reddish brown, whereas the other is rather
a greyish fawn. The horns are bigger, being about ten
inches, as against the six or seven inches of the Chanler
variety. It is usually found in pairs, in long grass or reeds
near the water, and lies up during the heat of the day. It
is not so alert as some of the deer, and one can usually get one
shot at it ; but when it has taken the alarm it generally
bounds away to such a distance that it is not easy to get a
second. The lake was found to be swarming with hippo.
We could hear them " blowing " at night. We are still
at a height of 8000 feet, and the air is beautifully clear
and exhilarating. We dine in our top-coats in front of
Duirs' tent, and then sit as near the great fire as possible,
to get thoroughly warm before retiring for the night. Tlie
mules are tethered close to us, each with its heap of cut hay
before it ; the porters sit chattering and singing in front of
their little white tents, each with his pot of posho and his
fire. On the distant hill a grass fire is burning, winding over
ridges and into hollows like a long red snake.

Tuesday, Feb. 17th. This was an exceptionally cold
morning, and at breakfast we crouched nearly on top of
the fire. It is really wonderful how well our Swahili cook
manages with the primitive means at his disposal. We left
here some spare loaves to be picked up by the wagons, and
two men to guard them. Our route lay along the foot of a
hill, with the forest on the one hand and the boundless plain
on the other.

After leaving Lake El Bolossat we passed many smaller
lakes. The whole district here is marshy, and the going-
must be very difficult at some seasons of the year. The lake
and the adjacent swamps are full of hippopotami. They

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float on the water with their great heads and backs above
the surface basking in the sunshine, and sometimes with
just their noses showing. Every minute or so one or another
makes a great snorting noise, or opens its huge red cavern of
a mouth in a mighty yawTi.

The cok)uring here was glorious. Vivid reds and blues,
glowing purples and browns, the black of the plains and the
misty green of the forest, made a dreamland. Ginger, one
of our two dogs, chased a water-buck out of the forest, and
it came leaping past us, a beautiful thick-set creature, dark
brown in colour with a long thick coat. We saw many small
herds of kongoni and zebra, but the feature of the day was
the number and variety of the birds. There were innumer-
able herons, storks and cranes of various kinds, and a great
flock of pelicans marched solemnly away before our approach,
looking most divertingly sedate. The herons were of several
kinds, the purple heron and the black-headed heron being
most frequently met with. I did not see anywhere the
common heron, such as we have in England.. One kind, the
buff-backed heron, can often be seen perched on the backs
of big game, feeding on the ticks and other parasites which
infest them. The storks include three very remarkable
varieties. The hammer-headed stork is a curious-looking
bird, dull brown in colour, not very long in the leg or neck,
but with a tremendous wedge-shaped beak, which, with a
great crest at the back of the head, gives the appearance to
which the bird owes its name. One can often see this great
imtidy bird in the trees by the water-side. The saddle-
billed stork is the biggest of his kind ; he has long legs and
neck, but his distinguishing feature is the saddle-shaped bill
— heavy, sharp, tilted upward at the point, and evidently
murderously effective. This bill is red in colour and has a
broad black band round the middle. The third variety is
the beautiful marabout. This lovely bird is one of the
scavengers of Africa, competing with the vultures in the
search for carrion. It also rivals the vulture in its flight, its
great wings enabling it to poise for hours in the air without
apparent effort. The marabout will more than hold its own
with any vulture. It is interesting to watch the vultures

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tearing a carcass when a marabout appears on the scene.
Big birds as they are, they are by no means anxious to
approach that terribly sharp beak, and the ungainly flappings
to get out of its way are very amusing. There are hosts of
smaller birds too, waders and swimmers in the lake and in
the swamps, and great numbers of little birds, often beauti-
fully coloured, in the trees and bush.

The ride to-day was very unpleasant, taking us over
miles and miles of freshly burned grass. The dust rose in
clouds at each step, making eyes and nose smart and tingle,
and covering us from head to foot. Then, to crown all, we
saw the line of fire right in our path. It meant a long ride
to go round it, so Duirs gave us a lead and galloped his
mule straight at it, and ours followed. Fortunately the
flames were not high, but the smoke clouds were very un-
pleasant, and we were heartily glad to get into the cool,
clear air beyond. Between one and two o'clock we dis-
mounted for our midday meal and lay in the shade of the
bushes until the bearers arrived. By the time they reached
us, however, the whole plain around us was on fire and we
were in the centre of a narrowing circle of flame — a most
disquieting situation. Duirs made little of it, but set
the boys to beat it out with branches of trees, and so
prevented it from reaching us. Then, on the farther side
of the quenched patch, they lit another fire to spread out-
wards to meet the incoming one, so that we soon had a
broad burnt ring around the camp. It was my first experi-
ence of seeing fire fight fire, and apart from the discomfort
of the smoky atmosphere I found it most interesting. One
remarkable feature of these grass fires is the host of small
birds which hover around. These are the insect-eating
tribes, such as starlings, bee-eaters, rollers and many others,
who come to prey on the insects which are driven by the
flames from their homes among the roots of the grass. These
tiny raiders dart hither and thither in pursuit of their prey,
apparently heedless of the heat and smoke, and careless too
of that other host of lesser birds of prey — kites, kestrels,
shrikes and the like, which take a heavy toll among them-
selves. The smoke hung about the whole evening, and we

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ON SAFARI

had to sit, eat and talk in a murky atmosphere. The plain
near the camp was still smouldering, and great walls of smoke
cloud shut out the farther view. We were fortunate to have
got off so lightly, for had a strong wind sprung up, we should
in all probability have been burned out before we were able
to protect ourselves. We did no shootmg to-day. Indeed,
Robert had a chill and stayed in bed.

On the march we came up with a poor donkey which had
evidently strayed from some caravan. Possibly it had fallen
sick and so had been left behind; or it may have been chased
by a lion, and bolted in its fright. He was in very poor con-
dition, and was apparently very pleased to attach himself
to the safari. Somewhat to my surprise the mules were
graciously pleased to admit him on sufferance. We called
him Jeremy Taylor, in testimony to his astonishing eloquence.

Cookie has made a delightful kitchen under the trees, and
I have just strolled round to look at it. He told me we were
to have soup which I saw boiling, chops, curry and rice, and
that although the boys have a long way to go for water, our
usual evening baths will be forthcoming. Camp life, if it
has its discomforts, has also its compensations. I am at the
moment of writing sitting in a long chair in front of my
tent, watching the sunset through the smoke clouds. The
boys are busily passing to and fro with their loads of wood
for the camp fires and of water carried in large bags. Through
the stillness comes the bell-like note of a bird which has
followed us all day, and is now chanting somewhere in the
trees to the back of the camp. The fulness and richness of
this bird's note is really wonderful. It sounds for all the
world like some deep-toned cathedral bell, tolling through
the dim aisles of the forest. Yet the bird is, I believe,
quite small — one of the fruit crows, I am told, and a near
relation to the South American arapunga, which has a
similar note. But several of the African birds have these
bell-like tones. There is another, popularly known as the
"chime bird," which has two notes, "ding-dong," deep,
mellow and full.

It was a wonderfully peaceful scene, and the fascination
of it kept me spellbound for a while. But a discordant note

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AFTER BIG GAME

was struck when, just after I had bathed and dressed, the
boys started shouting excitedly, and Monie came rushing in
to say that the grass fire had spread to the bush at the back
of our camp and was bearing down on us. We followed the
boys through the forest as rapidly as we could, but when we
arrived we found that they had beaten it out, all except one
great old fir-tree, which was still in flames. It was a grand
sight as it stood there, a great pillar of fire blazing in the
midst of the darkness. Then we returned to the camp and
dined, while the wonderful semicircle of fire stretched across
the plain in front of us for about ten miles. It was like
gazing from the deck of a ship at an enormous bay, the shores
of which were glowing with ruddy flame. Fortunately the
wind changed and we got clear air to breathe, the smoke
blowing the other way ; but when we retired at 9.30 the great
ring of fire was still blazing.

Wednesday, Feb. I8th. This morning we were up at 6-15,
to find everything hidden in mist. By seven, however, it
had lifted. The fires were out, but still smouldering. After
about three hours' depressing ride over the scorched and
blackened grass we came to the end of the plains and reached
some lovely wooded hills. There were two herds of zebra
grazing quite close, and we saw also six elands.

The ground here was marshy, with many small lakes, and
a little river winding in and out among the papyrus ; we
forded the river, the mules taking us very carefully over,
and then dismounted. Close by we could hear the sound of
falling water, and a few yards on we came to the edge of a
great rocky cliff from which we could gaze down into a
dense wooded valley far below. Over this cliff the river,
a slender stream of silver, dropped a sheer 200 feet, breaking
into an exquisite mass of dazzling white spray. The whole
scene— the white ribbon of spray and the lovely setting of
tropical foliage — simply beggars description. It was more
lovely than anything I had ever dreamed. We longed to
climb to the bottom so that we might gaze upward at the
wonder, but the banks were far too steep, although they were
covered with trees and undergrowth and enormous lily-leaved
ferns. We pitched our camp close to this delightful spot,

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ON SAFARI

and rested through the hot afternoon, soothed by the steady
undertone of the falling water. In the evening I went for a
stroll. A jackal came quite close, and stopped to look me
over before hurrying off. Then I passed a flock of six
ostriches, which raised their heads, gazed inquiringly, and
then strode haughtily away. Evidently these creatures of
the wild have an extraordinary contempt for the white
intruder on their solitude. Duirs went out and shot two
zebra for the men's supper. The wagons have not yet
turned up and we have no posho left. There is considerable
grumbling, the porters being, for a wonder, tired of meat.
At least so they say, but I fancy it may be only a case of
grumbling for grumbling's sake. However, we sent out
thirteen men to try to find the wagons and hasten back with
some posho.

Thursday, Feb. 19th. This was another misty morning.
Monie and I did not breakfast until nine, and then went for a
short walk in the forest. There were many lovely birds ;
one, particularly, about the size of a magpie with red wings
and a crested head. I had another walk in the evening with
Duirs, but saw no game ; and then, while I sat and watched
the falls, he went and shot two zebra and a kongoni for the
porters. There is as yet no word of the wagons.

Friday, Feb. 20th. Duirs and Robert went out after
buffalo. They found spoor, but it was four days old and
they did not trouble to follow it up. Robert shot a leopard
but lost him in the reeds by the river ; then, return-
ing, found a newly born kongoni. Monie and I tried to
scramble down the cliffs so as to get below the falls, but
without success ; we then intended to console ourselves with
a stroll through the forest, but the syces, who always follow
us with our mules, objected strongly to the forest, as there
were far too many traces of wild beasts, so that we had to
give that up too. In the afternoon we sat and read, and
Monie took some photos of the falls. In the evening we
rode out on to the plains at the back, watching tiie fires
fizzle out as they came to the edge of the marsh or stream.
On our way back we saw a jackal and chased him for
some distance. The men are still complaining, and those

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left behind at the old camp have come in, looking very-
hungry.

Saturday, Feb. 21st. This was a day of rejoicing. The
thirteen porters sent out to meet the wagons returned shortly
after 10a.m. with a dozen sacks of the Indian corn meal used
for making posho. Nubi, our headman, started at once to
serve it out ; and the camp got busy, each man with his little
pot. In consequence, when Monie and I rode out with
Robert to trace the leopard he had wounded the day before,
we could not muster enough bearers to ensure success. How-
ever, it is something to see the boys contented once more.
They are nothing but great children. At lunch we were
nearly smoked out again, as the fire had spread to the long
yellow grass across the river, and the wind was blowing the
smoke in our direction. Nubi and the boys, who had by this
time had their fill of the beloved posho, rushed to the attack
with huge green branches. Monie and I followed to see
the fun ; but Duirs assured us that the fire could not
possibly cross the river, so we returned to camp. In the
evening Duirs shot a jackal ; and Robert, wandering off
alone with his gun, hit two leopards, but could not get
either. Of all animals the leopard is most crafty in taking
cover. He is rarely seen at all and still more rarely seen
clearly enough for a fair shot. At dinner we had a double
share of kongoni marrow bones, which are excellent eating,
and then sat and watched the fires all round. Across the
river an old cedar was blazing, and the whole scene was
enchanting in the starlight.

Sunday, Feb. 22nd. As our boys had returned safely
there was no longer any reason for remaining here, so we
started off at about eight o'clock for the lower ground
stretching from the foot of the falls. We came through
lovely stretches of country, grass and forest, just like an
English park. Here we passed a great herd of Somali cattle
with their owners. Duirs shot for us a very beautiful
bird, which unfortunately dropped into the undergrowth
and was only found after a great deal of trouble. As we
came out of the forest we could see Mount Kenia, half hidden
jn wreaths of cloud, the Aberdare mountains behind us and

21 6

ON SAFARI

the great Laikipia plains around. The new camp is nearly
a thousand feet lower than the last one^ and the difference in
temperature is very noticeable. We dined without our top-
coats, and Monie and I sat over the camp fire until eleven
o'clock, long after the others had gone to rest. The new
camp is charmingly situated among trees and shrubs near
good water. We had scarcely settled dt. wn before Duirs
spied a huge warthog staring across at us out of the shrubs,
but the beast had disappeared before he could get his
rifle. There are many traces of game to be seen here, and
of buffalo and rhino in particular, so that something exciting
may occur at any moment. Just before alighting we saw a
large troop of baboons, and a few moments later a great
swarm of bees flew over my head. The donkey who attached
himself to our safari still continues to accompany us. To-day
he has had to pay the penalty of returning to civilisation
by being made to carry his share of posho. The poor beast
looks as though it took him all his time to hang together,
but he seems contented enough with his present company.

After tea Monie and I strolled down to the stream to look
around. There were seven little green parrots on a cedar-
tree ; they took flight and came swiftly past us, so close
that I could not resist throwing my stick at them. Of
course I missed them, and worse still, lost my stick, which
stuck up a tree. It was rather nervous work, walking along
rhino and buffalo tracks, so we retraced our steps. We were
fated, however, to get a shock, for suddenly I saw something
red and black move in the long grass. I clutched Monie's
arm, but it turned out after all to be nothing more than one
of our boys in a red fez, who had lain do^vn in the grass while
his companion was drawing water from the stream.

Monday, Feb. 23rd. Duirs went out to look for
buffalo, and found fresh spoor, which he followed for hours
without success. He brought back lumps of mud full of
buffalo hairs, picked up where the beasts had been rubbing
themselves against the trees. He also saw two large rhino
covered with red mud.

Robert went out but only shot one dourie ; this is another
name for the touraco or "plantain eater," as he is familiarly

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AFTER BIG GAME

known. Monie sketched, and I watched the boys making a
stick and thatched shelter for us to dine in. Afterwards I
made them wash our table linen ; but as the wagons had not
come up we had no soap, so I gave them a cake of dog soap
and showed them how to boil and bleach the things. They
were very interested, or pretended to be so, for like children
they are excellent actors and will pretend anything they think
will please. After tea Monie and I went across the stream.
We stood a moment to admire the view, and then turned to
retrace our steps. There in our path, about 100 yards away,
was a great kongoni staring at us. He was certainly not
there a moment or so before, and we had heard nothing move.
He seemed to have materialised out of the air. However,
he soon turned and galloped off, and we felt thankful that it
had not been worse. It would certainly have been awkward
if, say, a rhino had taken a fancy to appear in the same
mysterious fashion. After dinner I heard a curious sound,
a sort of long wail which at first I thought was made by one
of the boys in joke, especially as it was followed by a burst
of laughter from the others. But it turned out to be a
hyaena, the first I had heard. The howl was repeated just
before I went to bed. It appears that the natives always
laugh when a hysena howls near the camp, just as they begin
to make noises and talk in their sleep when a lion roars in
the night. Both are evidently the result of some instinct
acquired during the early history of the race.

Tuesday, Feb. 24th. Duirs started off at 4 a.m. to try
to find the buffalo. He found a lone bull spoor, and
followed it up for hours. The beast had lain down two or
three times, and the last time he must have gone to sleep,
for Duirs got withm twelve feet of him before seeing him
lying behind a thick bush in the scrub. The beast gave a
snort, sprang to his feet and crashed off into the forest.
Duirs ran round the bush and just got one glimpse of
him in the open, but had no time to fire. He also saw two
rhino right out in the open. He walked up wind to within
200 yards of them without their paying the slightest atten-
tion, and then marched right past them, still keeping the
same distance of about 200 yards. Still the beasts took no

21 8

ON SAFARI

notice. But when he had got fully a quarter of a mile past
them he purposely took a position from which his scent would
be carried by the breeze to the animals. He had been there
only a few seconds before they both pricked up their ears,
set up their tails, and dashed off into the forest — an ample
testimony to their keenness of scent. He might easily have
had a shot at either, but had set his mind on the buffalo
bull and did not want to disturb him. Later on he shot a
kongoni for the larder but could not find him ; so Monie
and I, who had gone out for a canter, did our best to assist.
Some Somalis came into camp to-day with two lanky camels
and begged for food ; they had come right across the desert
from the north.

Wednesday, Feb. 25th. Duirs was out early looking
after the wagons and stores. After breakfast Monie and
I went with him, hoping to get some meat for the camp.
We started a couple of steinbuck, but could not get near
enough to them to try a shot. We saw some lovely blue and
black and yellow and black butterflies. Robert did not go
out to-day save for a stroll round the camp, during which he
shot a jackal and a great groined hornbill— a large bird, black,
with white-tipped wings and red hackles, like a turkey.
I think he is getting to feel that he has had enough shooting.
He has been doing it continuously now, except for the break
caused by his illness, from September 22 — close on five
months. After tea I strolled down to the stream and crawled
underneath the bushes. I brought back a number of ferns
and orchids. There are many varieties of both around here.
I was very pleased to see my parrots again, and watched
them until the sun set.

Thursdmj, Feb. 26th. Robert made up his mind to go
out with Duirs after the old buffalo, and started out at
4 A.M. I give the story in his own words : "It was a very
cold, damp morning, and we had to ride about four miles.
Then we left our mules on the side of a hill and forced our
way through thick forest for about a mile, until we got pretty
close to the place where Duirs had lost the beast two days
before. We found fresh spoor and began to follow it up, and
kept on doing so until we were sick and tired of it. Spooring

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buffalo is a very tedious and tricky business. The brute is
one of the keenest scented of all the big-game animals, being
only surpassed, if at all, by the elephant. Among the bush,
too, it manages to hide with surprising success ; and as you
have only your eyes to pit against the beast's eyes and nose,
it is necessary to proceed so cautiously that it often takes the
best part of a day to cover a few miles. Our quarry had
clearly been travelling through the scrub during the night.
We found four places where he had lain down, but do what we
would, we could not come across him. The sun got directly
overhead, and we ate our lunch and rested until 3 p.m., then
started on the spoor again. Here the ground was baked
hard and dry, and the trackers had to go on all- fours, so it may
easily be understood that we did not get on any faster than
in the morning. However, towards the close of the after-
noon we tracked him across an open glade and into a patch
of forest only a few acres in extent. We thought we had got
him at last, and sent the trackers in on his trail while Duirs
and I went round to the other side of the wood to choose the
best place for a shot when he should come out, as we expected
he would do. But we were again doomed to disappointment.
He winded the trackers, and instead of dashing out on our
side where we were ready to receive him, he crashed out to
the right and back again along the self-same path we had
tracked him by in the morning. When he came out into the
open he saw our mules, which were standing where we had
left them. Then, as the syces told us afterwards, he threw
back his horns and swerved off to the left, heading for another
valley at a sharp trot, while we turned homeward weary and
disappointed."

While the men were out after the elusive buffalo, Monie
and I had a quiet day in camp, wrote letters, read, and
watched one of the boys playing a weird, one-stringed instru-
ment rather like a prehistoric fiddle. Another had a rattle,
a short stick with two round seed pods fixed on top, the
seeds inside rattling loudly when the thing was shaken.
Many of the boys were making crook-handled sticks, others
sandals of hide, while others again were doing native
embroidery work.

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After tea we went off for a ride, saw and chased two
jackals, and came across a herd of zebra and two kongoni.
Shortly afterward we met Robert and Duirs returning,
and told them of our herd of zebras. Duirs immediately
stalked them, and wounded one. Monie and I followed up,
and must have ridden hard for nearly an hour before we
found the zebra in the forest, with Ginger hanging on to him,
and killed him. The boys who had run beside our mules
cut his throat, as, being Mohammedans, they were forbidden
to eat any meat that had not been previously bled or
" halelled," as they call it. They chopped off his tail to make
a switch, and then carved him, not by any means artistically,
into pieces which they carried home for the camp supper.
Coming back we saw a hyaena, the first I had yet seen,
although I had heard them howling at night. I thought at
first he was a pig, and then a jackal, and by the time I had
determined what he really was, and tried to get a careful
view of him, he had disappeared among the long grass.
Duirs, however, had seen him distinctly. Here Ginger,
probably excited by his performance in following up the
zebra, started off after another. Whistling and shouting
proved of no avail, and as it was getting late we started off
for camp, never dreaming but that he would follow as usual.
It was dark before we got home, but the mules trotted along
quite safely over anthills and hollows, and never stumbled
among the huge pig-holes that arc to be found everywhere in
this country.

After dinner we discovered that poor old Ginger had not
returned. As we sat round the fire we could hear barking in
the distance. We thought it might be the dog, but it turned
out to be zebra. Later there was very loud and continuous
barking behind our tents, but Duirs called out to us that
it was only jackals. All these noises in the dark, combined
with the disappearance of the dog, made me feel rather
"creepy." There was an exquisite new moon this evening,
and it seemed to have attracted all sorts of beasts to our camp.

Friday, Feb. 27th. Robert and Duirs went off once
more to look for buffalo. We were told that a herd had
been seen recently in the neighbourhood. One never knows

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exactly what amount of faith to put in any story that one
hears from a native. He happens to leam from a passer-by
that someone had said he saw buffalo spoor about a fortnight
ago, and he will come hot-foot with a story of a whole herd
feeding half-a-mile away. His imagination is equal to any
emergency. This unfortunately proved one of the usual false
reports ; the spoor was old and there was nothing else to be
seen. The boys were out looking for traces of poor old
Ginger most of the day, but could find nothing to throw any
light upon his fate. We were all greatly upset by his loss.
He was a nice dog and a great help in bringing down the
wounded game. Duirs was particularly fond of him. Many
a good dog, however, has disappeared in the same way, the
prey of a leopard or panther.

I had to-day my first taste of zebra, a steak with fried
onions, which Monie and I ate and found excellent. It re-
minded me of a good mutton chop. No wonder the boys are
fond of zebra meat. Yet I have heard people say that it is
coarse and tough. The boys are busy cooking their portions
before the fire. Each has a stick with pieces of meat threaded
on it stuck in the ground close to the blaze. They cook and
smoke it until it looks quite hard and black, and certainly
seems anything but appetising or digestible. However, there
can be no doubt that it appeals to their taste, for they cook
all their meat in the same way.

After tea Monie and I went off on our mules past the spot
where poor Ginger left us, but we saw no trace of any game
until we came abreast of our wagons, which were on the
opposite side of the stream. Then we put up a jackal and
immediately gave chase. Shortly afterward another came
in sight and tried to sneak away, but we turned and galloped
madly after him. It was most exhilarating and delightful ;
but as the sun was setting, and sunset here means almost
immediate darkness, we gave up the chase and returned to
the camp, passing on the way a number of Somalis with a
herd of cattle, cows and calves. They were engaged in
making a nice shelter for a cow and her newly born calf.
This day our larder was enriched by one kongoni.

Saturday, Feb. 28th. We were up at six this morning, as

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we intended trekking farther down the river Uasin Narok.
We had great difficulty, however, in finding a suitable spot,
for we had now to consider not only the indispensable water
and wood, but also grass to feed the bullocks and mules.
This was no easy task in a country that had been burnt up
for miles around. Finally we had to turn back to the one
green spot we had noticed in our march, and by-and-by the
Somalis with their cattle came and camped opposite. They
were very busy cutting down branches of trees and thorns,
with which they made a stout hedge, and inside this they
placed their tent. Later, when all the cows had been milked
and the calves fed, the whole herd was driven inside this
enclosure, and fires were lighted round to keep off the wild
beasts. They sent us some fresh milk, which I greatly
enjoyed after having been restricted to the tinned variety
for so long. In return, we gave them some of our camp
supplies.

We are now at an altitude of 6500 feet, beside the river,
which is lovely here, flowing between banks covered with
thick woods and bush and splendid ferns, to say nothing
of many kind of orchids. Monie and I scrambled through
the thick forest on to the banks, where we saw huge foot-
prints, which we took to be those of elephants and buffaloes.
We got quite a collection of orchids and I dug up many fern
roots to take back, if possible, to Nairobi. I do not think
I ever saw such wealth of ferns ; their graceful feathery
fronds absolutely covered the banks in places as well as the
tiny island in the river.

Sunday, March \st. We had a very short safari to-day,
camping at ten in the morning about one mile from Rumuruti.
The place was at one time the headquarters of the Masai in
this district, and the few houses which still exist were the
homes of the Government officials. Of these only remain
Mr Tuft of the police, and a veterinary surgeon whose function
it is to inoculate all the cattle sent down from the Boran
tribe. Duirs wanted to buy some rice and coffee, and
Monie and I rode in with him to see the place. A more
desolate-looking spot is inconceivable. Three red-roofed
bungalows, that looked as if they might have belonged to

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Europeans — one of them had the date 1905 inscribed over
the door, a store kept, as usual, by an Indian, a few native
huts, a bleak-looking desert plain with a big Somali enclosure
of cattle, a few camels and donkeys, and two or three white
tents — and you have the whole of Rumuruti.

The river here comes out from between its banks of beauti-
ful forest trees, and expands into a desolate swamp, with
clumps of long green reeds and rank swamp grasses. Around
one corner of this I found a little road. Some nice shrubs
and flowers had been planted, and there is one short
avenue of wattle-trees. Duirs called on the police official,
and we saw the veterinary surgeon. Monie and I naturally
inspected Rumuruti's one shop. Its stock consisted, appar-
ently, of tinned things, and a few beads, blankets, native
cloths and the inevitable " Merikani." We bought a tin of
chocolate creams and then rode back to camp for lunch. In
the evening Robert took his shot-gun and Monie and I
strolled out with him. He shot two pigeons which were
appreciated later on, and we found the most gorgeously invit-
ing fruit I have ever seen, growing in bmiches out of the
trunk of a forest tree. It is shaped something like a fig,
but is a vivid red in colour. Unfortunately, like so many
attractive-looking things in Africa, it is poisonous.

On our return journey Monie went looking round for
animal relics, such as bones and horns, and came unexpectedly
across a human skull. There was a glorious red sunset, and
near us, moving slowly along the skyline, was a caravan of
camels, each with a large wooden bell round its neck. They
were led by some old Somali men, and made an exquisite
picture silhouetted against that wonderful red sky.

There were several little Somali camps between us and
Rumuruti ; and what with the lowing of the cattle, the
grunting of the camels, the strange, harsh cry of a prowling
leopard, and the barking of jackals, I was kept awake for
many hours. In spite of my sleeplessness the softening effect
of distance and the dull tinkling of the camel bells gave
a strange fascination to the medley of sound.

Monday, March 2nd. I was out of my tent shortly after
six, admiring a wonderful sunrise. The sun came up by the

224

I

■r^f^^

•lii.

Zt'l)r;i near Ruiiiuriiti.

( )m \Va''()Ms near Itumuiiiti.

ON SAFARI

side of Mount Kenia many miles away, tinting the snow- cap
with a rosy pink. We have a long, unpleasant march to-day
to get past the swamp. After all the loads were ready one
of the porters, his face smeared with white clay, rushed
madly round and round the camp, striking with a short thick
stick bundles, boxes, bushes, stones and everything in his
path. As he passed us Monie's topee was on the ground and
received its share of his attentions. The whole thing lasted
only two or three minutes, and was very diverting. It often
happens, usually after settling down into camp. Probably
it is founded upon some vague idea of exorcising evil spirits,
but in view of the zest that is always put into the performance
it is hard to believe that there is not an element of fim in
it too. It certainly amused me every time I saw it. It is
quite a serious rite, however, the principal actor being
apparently quite mad at the time.

After passmg Rmiiuruti, we got at once into a burnt and
barren country, with a low ridge of hills on the left and a
dreary swamp on the right. We saw many Grant's gazelles,
impala and zebra. Robert went after a jackal, but it went
into a hole ; the boys then tried to smoke it out, but
wc grew tired waiting for it to appear. Duirs hit another
but could not find it, and then, seeing a water-buck standing
on the other side of the swamp, fired and hit him sorely. He
determined to follow, and did so, and after two hours of
stalking and wading among the reeds, half the time up to
his waist in water, he got him and came back happy with a
fine head. In his last efforts to get away the buck went
round and round in a circle. Lions and buffaloes do the
same thing, but in their case the hunter who got within that
circle would stand a very poor chance. Meanwhile Robert
caught sight of a lion among the scrub, jumped off his mule,
and went with his gun- bearer to track the beast down —
rather a dangerous experiment in such country. He found
the tracks and got some of the porters to throw stones at the
spot where the beast was last seen in the hope of makmg him
break cover. The only result was that, to his disappoint-
ment, the lion disappeared up a dry water-course and then
over the ridge about 400 yards away. At one o'clock wc
P 225

AFTER BIG GAME

stopped, after a hot and dreary ride. We had reached the
bank of a river, but there was no greensward and scarcely
any foliage. Two or three gaunt trees threw the scantiest of
shade, so Monie and I lay between a couple of huge boulders
that overhung the sand a little, and enabled us, by squeezing
up close, to escape being roasted alive in that scorching mid-
day sun. Duirs did not arrive until three o'clock. Then
the tents were set up and we were glad to tumble into
our beds and rest. After dinner we sat outside the tents.
It was impossible for anyone with a sense of beauty to gaze
on the wonder of the moonlit scene without emotion. It
was overpoweringly lovely. The moon was in its final
quarter, set in a dark, cloud-flecked sky. There were
thousands and thousands of tiny curved black clouds, each
faintly lit up at one edge, looking like tiny ripples on the sea.
Among them the white stars shone with a clear brilliance
unknown in the humid atmosphere of home. On the near
horizon was a black silhouette of stunted trees, while in the
foreground was the ruddy glow of the camp fire, dimly out-
lining the ebony limbs of the boys who squatted motionless,
their white-eared head-dresses standing out in the faint light
with the quaintest effect. Everywhere else the world was
black ; a dense blackness seemed to enclose us like a wall.
Two scenes, this and that of the gaunt camels filing past
across the red sky, are African pictures which I shall carry
with me in memory to the end of my life.

Tuesday, March 3rd. We set out early and forded the
river. Just on the other bank we found fresh lion spoor,
each pad being perfectly distinct. As in all members of the
cat tribe, there is one big pad mark behind and four smaller
ones in front. One can only tell by the size whether it is the
spoor of a lion or of a leopard or a serval cat. The common
cat would leave exactly similar traces. With any of the dog
tribes the spoor would show claw marks in front, their claws
not being retractile. From what we saw we concluded that
lions had been drinking within a few yards of our last
night's camp. Wishing, however, to get within better game
country, we moved on across another stretch of burnt-out
desert.

226

ON SAFARI

In the distance we could see herds of zebra, Granti and
oryx. Later the character of the country changed, and we
saw many dik-dik, tiny deer not bigger than a hare, though
with longer legs. About noon we reached a huge salt pan,
part of the dried bed of a river where there were great pools of
saltish water dotted about, and huge clumps of long, rank
grass. We had to frighten off two large herds of zebra which
had appropriated the most convenient camping place. One
daring fellow remained drinking imtil we were quite close.
The soil is sand, the grass grows in dried-up tufts and patches,
and the only trees are stunted mimosa thorn. All around is
the great black plain, broken only by a few clumps of dwarf
bushes and patches of long grass, and far away on the
horizon is the white peak of Mount Kenia shining above its
clouds. It is a weird, desolate place, perfectly eerie in the
twilight and at night ; but it is simply alive with game. In
the evening, walking quite close to the camp, I nearly stepped
on a cheetah, which sprang up from under my feet and turned
on me, snarling with open jaws, just as a cat turns on a dog,
and then was off, leaping swiftly and gracefully over the grass,
almost before I had realised what had occurred. The cheetah
is one of the spotted cats, but the spots occur singly, not in
groups, as in the leopard. The legs are very long, giving it a
surprising speed.

Robert returned from his walk with a francolin, a lesser
bustard, a Granti and two new kinds of jackal. The latter
are smaller than the usual variety, and are black-nosed and
black-legged. Duirs came back later with half-a-dozen
guinea-fowl which he had shot with his rifle from their
perches on the trees, as well as an impala and a Granti, so
that our larder is well furnished for a day or two. The franco-
lins are the nearest African equivalent to our partridges, and
there arc many different species of them. The guinea-fowl
were of the helmcted variety, which roost in the thorn bush
in flocks of fifty or more. They make a dreadful cackling
just before settling down for the night. The thorns here are
terrible ; just around the camp it is difficult even to move
for them. The wagons have formed a laager down by the
dried salt bed, as we propose to remain here some days.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Wednesday, March Uh. Robert went off early and was
nearly all day tracking an enormous bull eland. Monie
and I went out after breakfast with our cameras. She spent
two hours in trying to stalk a zebra, but although we saw
plenty, she found it impossible to get close. At midday
Duirs, who had also started off in the morning, returned with
an oryx. In the afternoon he took us for a seven-mile ride
after a rhinoceros whose spoor he had crossed in the morning,
but we were not fortunate enough to find him. However,
we passed a great deal of game of various kinds — ^great herds
of zebra with one or two foals, herds of Granti, several stein-
buck, an oryx and an ostrich. We also saw an eland cow
with a few days' old calf which allowed us to get up quite
close, a consideration which we ungratefully repaid by
chasing them.

It was a very tiring ride over rough ground, with many
stones, cracks and holes, and with the grass all burnt off.
We were glad to get back to camp and leave the rhino's
trail for to-morrow. When we got there Robert had not
come in ; and as the darkness came on, Duirs fired several
rocket signals, red and green lights from a special pistol, to
give him our direction. One of these, falling on a clump of
dried grass near, set it ablaze, and we had to call up all hands
to beat out the fire. The boys came out yelling, whistling
and shouting in a great state of excitement. They seem to
love anything of this sort. Just as it was over Robert
appeared, very tired, having had no great success.

Thursday, March 5th. Late last night I heard hy£enas
howling close to the camp, and in the morning Robert woke
me, saying that lions were roaring. The noise was quite loud
and distinct, though the beasts were probably a mile or so
away. It was rather a curious kind of grunt than a pro-
longed roar. At 7 o'clock Monie, Duirs and I resumed
our quest for rhino. The gun-bearers and some porters
had been sent off at daybreak to try to find fresh spoor.
After half-an-hour's ride we came up with them, but they
had discovered nothing. However, we rode on in hope of
seeing something, and were rewarded by catching sight of an
oryx with a good head, grazing with a herd of Granti. He

228

ON SAFARI

bounded off, but Duirs sent two shots after him, and then
we all mounted and rode as fast as we could upon his
trail. Finally we saw him a long way off, going a little
way and then stopping. Duirs dismounted and began to
stalk him. He must have gone two miles before he was
able to fire. The beast dropped, but it was far away, and
we were afraid he was lost. However, we found him, and
the boys soon had him skinned and cut up ready to carry
home. It was quite early, 10.30, but very hot, so we had a
little food, sitting under a mimosa thorn. As this was leafless,
we had to imagine we were sitting in the shade, and to try
to feel cooler for it. Then we rode quietly back, passing on
the way herds of Granti, oryx and always zebra. In the
afternoon we had a thunderstorm, accompanied by heavy
rain. After it had passed, Monie and I walked round the
dried-up lake bed, and saw the spring in the midst of the reeds
whence we drew our water. The men determined to try for
the lions we had heard roaring, and went out and shot two
zebra to serve as bait.

Friday, March 6th. About 3 a.m. I heard a boy rush out
of his tent and round the camp crying, and then a number of
voices talking in whispers and laughing, so that I supposed
that one of the porters had had nightmare. I peeped out,
but could see nothing except the huge log fire and the askari
on guard marching round and round. In a short time I was
again awakened by Robert, who had come to tell me that
lions were roaring, he thought about four miles away. In
the morning we were told the cause of the commotion in camp.
In the night a jackal had entered the tent of one of the boys
and stolen all his meat, besides giving him a fright, for in
the darkness he could not, of course, tell what manner of
beast it was. Robert and Duirs went off to visit the baits
laid the previous night, but found no trace of lions, and
so determined to lay another bait in a different place, at
the t(jp of the creek.

Monie and I went for a short walk with our cameras, and
managed to photo some Somalis, with cattle and camels, who
were passing the salt lake. We were greatly interested in
watching the weaver birds hopping in and out of their nests.

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AFTER BIG GAME

They are about the size of a sparrow, and their nests are
little ball-like structures woven of grass and hanging from
the twigs of the trees. The nests have two openings at the
bottom, and they hang on the mimosa thorn in such numbers
as almost to cover it. There is a great variety of these
weaver birds in Africa, I believe about 250 species in all.
Most of them choose the branches of trees near rivers or
lakes, or even build on the reeds themselves. The nests vary
a good deal in their style of architecture. Some have but a
single opening ; some are round, others dome-shaped ; some
are built round a single reed, others have two or three passing
through them. The birds are also very various in their
colouring. Those that we saw at this time were not strikingly
pretty, but some of the weavers have very fine feathers
indeed. The golden weaver, which I saw in Mombasa, and
which nests in low trees everywhere, is of a deep yellow with
an orange head ; while another kind, the bishop bird, is
arrayed in orange-red with black points and a golden brown
mantle. A third is of a bright canary colour. But the social
weaver, which builds its nests in colonies numbering hundreds
at a time and filling whole trees, is quite a plain little bird.

We heard here another of those absurd bird voices one
comes across in Africa. I have already mentioned the bell
bird. This one had a bleat like a sheep. I was sorry we
could not find him, for I was not a little curious to discover
what kind of body went with such a preposterously un-bird-
like voice. There was another which I often heard at night
in Mombasa, whose note exactly resembled the sound of
water gurgling out of a bottle when turned upside down ;
it is locally and appropriately known as the water-bottle
bird, and is really the concal, or bush cuckoo. Then there
is the " go'way " bird, or plantain eater, one of the touracos
or douries. This is one of the feathered nuisances, detested
by sportsmen because of its habit of warning the game by
setting up a terrible commotion on the approach of any
intruder. It is a big bird with a great head tuft, almost
covering a short, blunt pigeon-like beak. Another of the
touracos has a clear ringing voice that at times sounds
almost human, and there is another note which one might

230

/v

Woiivri- Birds' Nests, T.nikipiii Pliiins.

Soiniili-- mill CiiiiK'ls (in |,;iiki|ii;i riiiins.

ON SAFARI

easily mistake for the mewing of a cat. I am told that the
latter is the "go'way" birds alternative selection. There
is the turtle dove, who chants " chuck-her-up, chuck-her-up "
in the mornings; the laughing dove, which can give an
excellent imitation of a human laugh, and many others.
If the songsters of Africa are accused of being deficient in
musical quality, they at least cannot be charged with
deficiency in interest or variety. But the former charge
is not true either. The morning concert in the bush is really
wonderful. If the soloists do not come up to the level of
the lark, linnet, blackbird, thrush or nightingale, the chorus
produces an effect which is delightful enough to linger in
the memory as one of the charms of the African wilds.

In the afternoon Monie went out with Robert to shoot
birds, and I went with Duirs to look for some meat for
the boys, and incidentally to see that they were guarding
the zebras laid out for lion bait. As a rule they may be
trusted to remain by themselves during the daytime, but are
apt to slip home just before nightfall, in which case the birds
and jackals rarely leave enough on the carcass to attract any
lion with a reasonable appetite. However, the zebra we
wounded took us in the opposite direction, so we did not
inspect the guard after all, and in the end did not get back
into camp until seven, having had a long canter after guinea-
fowl. These run at a great rate through the long grass,
often for miles. But we lost the birds, and as the boys had
not arrived in camp we concluded they must have remained
at their post. The weather is very unsettled ; at lunch we
had a hail storm, and during dinner a heavy storm of rain ;
yet this was in Africa, almost directly under the Equator.

Saturday, March 7th. This morning I shot a bird with a
small rifle at about 18 yards, and then Monie took the rifle
and shot a pigeon. Robert meanwhile went out and shot
francolin and guinea-fowl for the larder. Then I went over
to see the boma being built about four miles from the camp.
Another zebra had to be shot for bait, as the hysenas had
very nearly finished the previous one ; Duirs had gone
out early and disturbed ten of them at it. There were
no signs of lions, but we heard them roaring. Robert made

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up his mind to sit up for them in the boma. If it is not
wet, Monie and I propose to go also, in spite of the fact
that Duirs has tried his hardest to dissuade us, pointing
out the discomfort of lying perfectly still for twelve hours
in this small round hut flimsily built of mimosa thorn. He
also says that the smell from the decaying zebra is appalling ;
that if the lions come prowling and sniffing round the boma
at a distance of only a few inches, the experience is rather
a terrifying one ; and that, moreover, we must not stir nor
whisper one word. We have thought it over and decided
that we can live through it all, and so have made up our
minds to go. Also I should be sorry to remain in camp while
the men were out in the boma all night. I would much
rather be there too.

We left camp about five o'clock, arriving at the boma at
six. Duirs and Robert went inside to put up a canvas
shelter in case it should rain, and I was leisurely taking
off my field boots before putting on mosquito boots for the
night, when suddenly Monie whispered : " Quick, we are to
get inside at once ! " Field boots are not the easiest things
to get off at any time, and the fact that one is in a particular
hurry does not always accelerate the process. So I tugged;
and one of the gun-bearers tugged, to the urgent accom-
paniment of excited exhortations to make haste and come
in at once, but all in vain. Finally, as the appeals were
becoming frantic, there was one mighty effort and I was
free, with the gun-bearer on his back, his legs in the air and
my boot in his hand. We were inside in an instant, and I
had just time to turn round and see four or five large lumpy
hysenas pass close to the bait. From that time there was
great excitement in the boma. As silently as possible in the
dark, we spread our blankets on some cut grass which was
spread on the ground, and, pulling on our big coats, lay down
behind the men, who had taken up their position opposite
the two loopholes left in the side of the boma facing the kill.

They also had blankets and lay down to try to sleep, the
gun boys keeping watch meanwhile. Monie and I were half
behind a canvas sheet which hung from the top canvas to
keep the moonlight from shining on us and to keep out the

232

Boiiiji and Z('l)ia for Bait. I.aikipia I'laiiif

A Tail' of Lionesses.

ON SAFARI

rain, so that we could not see the movements of the men.
But as I was next the "door," which consisted of a large
thorn bush pulled into the entrance by the last comer, I
could see out, and had a clear view of moon and stars and
the clouds drifting across the sky. This was a distinct
advantage, for after a while the silence became almost pain-
ful. We had been warned to keep still, even absolutely
motionless if we could ; and, if we had to clear our throats,
to cover our heads with the blankets before doing so. As
I had a slight cold in my head, this was necessary more than
once. Fortunately, as I thought, I had remembered to
bring some eucalyptus and menthol lozenges in my pocket.
l^ut getting at them without making a noise was a work of
art. Even putting out a finger to kill a mosquito seemed
to sound in the intense silence. I grew hotter and hotter,
but it was impossible to attempt to slip off the blankets.
That certainly could not be done without disturbance. So
I had to leave them alone and grin and bear it. The silence
became more and more painful, and then all of a sudden it
was broken by grumblings and muffled roars. They sounded
quite close, and I wondered if the lions were prowling round
outside, but had no means of ascertaining if this were the
case. Nothing passed before my little outlook. Then
clouds obscured the half moon ; the blackness outside grew
blacker, and silence fell again. I could hear the ceaseless
buzzing of the insects, and the mosquitoes came and worried
us. All at once we heard loud roaring. It really was lion
this time ; there could be no mistake about it. But it was
some distance away. That died away, and the growling
near at hand began once more. This we now knew came
from the hyaenas round our bait. I listened for sounds of
eating and the crunching of bones, but nothing could be
heard save the growling. When that ceased the silence
began again, and this time seemed interminable. Wc lay
listening and watching, every sense strung up to the utmost
pitch. But nothing happened save a snore from one of the
boys, who was promptly admonished by a dig in the ribs
from Duirs. After what seemed an age, there was more
roaring. It sounded closer, and I felt sure the lion must be

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creeping up this time. But again nothing happened, and
the roaring died away in the distance. Robert said after-
wards that there were four, and that they were evidently
going away happy, having had a kill of their own somewhere.
Monie was fast asleep. I was far too strung up to sleep
myself ; I was intent on listening for any sound of the lion's
approach, and afraid that if I did doze off I should cough
involuntarily.

It was a long, long, weary night, with nothing but dis-
appointment at the end. Even the hyaenas had not touched
the bait, which lay there disembowelled and partly devoured
from the night before, and smelt strongly enough to attract
all the lions in the country.

The lions we heard had foimd a kill of their own ; for when
we crawled out of the boma at daybreak and stretched the
stiffness out of our limbs, Robert went across the ridge of
ground behind us and saw a jackal trotting off with a large
piece of raw meat in his mouth^ — a fairly certain sign that a
lion had killed near at hand. The boys arrived from camp
shortly after sunrise with kettle and water, and lit a fire and
made a cup of tea. Then we mounted our mules, which
had also been brought over, and rode back to camp, for a
good breakfast and much-needed rest.

Sunday, March 8th. We had a very quiet day. Robert
went off for another night in the boma. We had an idea
that the odour of eau-de-Cologne, which we used for keeping
the mosquitoes away, might have been responsible for keeping
the lions away also. The night was a terrible one. It rained
incessantly, and Robert was soaked through long before
daylight came. As soon as possible he came back to camp,
having had the most miserable night in his whole experi-
ence, and never a sign of a lion.

Tuesday, March 10th. After breakfast we broke camp
and started on our return journey. Not long afterwards
I saw two Tommies in the distance, and Duirs asked
if I would like a shot. We dismounted and stalked one of
them to within about 200 yards, when I took his Ross rifle
and, kneeling down, fired. I thought I had hit him and
followed up, trying another shot when I thought him well

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ON SAFARI

within my range. This time, however, I was very short
and very disappointed. Duirs, however, got him. A little
later I tried again, at about the same distance, and had
the satisfaction of securing my first trophy, which had a
very nice head indeed. Early in the afternoon we arrived
at the River Narok and camped in a spot opposite one of our
former camping grounds. Monie went in the evening with
Duirs to get some zebra for bait, as the men had determined
to sit up once more for lions. I took the little rifle and went
after pigeon, unsuccessfully. Robert went after geese, and
got them. Throughout the night I heard lions roaring,
far away but quite distinct ; but the two zebra which
Duirs had shot about two miles from camp had not been
touched.

This has been a most wonderful day. Even after all that
I have seen in Africa, and particularly since I have been on
safari, I never imagined it would be possible to see such
quantities of wild game collected in one place. Herds of
antelope of many different varieties were feeding within a
few yards of our path and as far as the eye could see. I was
out this morning before breakfast, and went down to the
river with the small rifle. After that Monie took it and
tried for some birds. Robert went after geese, and I went
off with Duirs to visit the spot selected for the night's
boma. We got there before the boys who were to build it,
and all we saw was the two who had been told off to guard
the kill ; each was sitting melancholy beside his zebra, with
a tree full of expectant vultures close by. They had received
strict instructions not to touch the zebras, but on looking
at them we found that both the tails were gone. It seems
that no boy can resist the temptation of a tail. Duirs
took them away and began to fasten them to his saddle.
What impulse prompted " Oleander," his mule, to resent this,
I cannot say, but resent it he did, in no uncertain fashion,
and there was quite a little comedy, the actors being Duirs
trying to mount and Oleander equally determined he
should not. The tussle lasted for some time, and then
intellect won. Duirs unfastened the halter rope and
made a running noose in it, which he casi on the ground.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Oleander put his foot in it, and was surprised to find himself
a powerless captive with one hind leg in the air, a position
as helpless as undignified. Even then, being a mule, he
refused to settle down for quite a long time ; but eventually
he gave in. Duirs mounted and we started.

Before us was a low flat-topped hill, which we mounted.
When we reached the summit the prospect absolutely took
my breath away. The flat top was a delightful tender green,
the grass having sprouted through the burnt ground with
the last few days' rain. Around were deer innumerable.
Vast herds of Tommies, Granti, and whole battalions of
zebra stretched away right to the horizon ; and on the sky-
line, clear outlined against the blue, were three large oryx.

I felt as if I were in one of the huge markets in the desert
of Algeria, save that these beasts were tame, and there were
no chattering Arabs to sell and buy. We rode within about
70 yards of the nearest, but they were not in the least alarmed.
They seemed to know instinctively that we were not out to
shoot. They ran past us in long columns, the young ones
frisking and frolicking like little lambs, in and out among
the zebra.

On the farther side three jackals came slinking up through
the grass, evidently on business intent : and then, looking
upwards, we saw vultures hovering, clearly indicating the
presence of a kill. Riding up we found it was the carcass
of a hyaena, so far almost untouched, though the birds had
managed to get in a few preliminary attempts. A little way
on we came to more jackal, and then to the remains of a
Tommy, consisting of skull, backbone and leg-bones, all
picked clean but quite fresh. Duirs surmised that this was
a lion's kill and that the dead hyaena was one which had
indiscreetly interfered and had received a fatal pat from
the mighty paw.

We had by this time come some seven or eight miles from the
camp. Down below us was a delightfully wooded spot, where
great feathery acacias were growing, seemingly by a river.
To this we bent our way, winding in and about the scrub.
But there was unfortunately nothing of the river but its
bed, which was dry except for some occasional pools and

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ON SAFARI

rhino baths of slimy muddy water. This om* mules and poor
Judy the dog, whose tongue had been hanging out for a
long time, were glad to drink. Here we saw lion spoor and
plenty of spoor of rhino. But though this was unquestion-
ably a favourite resort if not the home of the pachyderm, we
saw nothing of him, though we tracked him most diligently,
taking, of course, the precaution of walking up wind lest he
should nose us before we saw him.

Many of the mimosas here were in flower, and butterflies
in hundreds fluttered about the blossoms like bees. The
stillness was so intense that as we stopped our mules to watch
them we could distinctly hear the fluttering of their wings.
It sounds incredible, but the silence of nature in these
African wilds is also incredible. It is quite indescribable ;
you actually feel it.

We came shortly across an old Masai encampment, just
a ring of old mud hovels and heaps of ashes where the fires
had been. After following the river bed for a mile or so we
turned for home by a different route. We had some good
canters over the hard ground, but for the most part had to go
cautiously because of the cracks and holes in the soil and the
abundance of huge stones. We reached home about three
o'clock, after one of the most enjoyable experiences I can
remember. At five o'clock Robert and Duirs started for
the boma to spend another night after lions, while Monie
and I, with Ramasan the gun-bearer, went out to look for
duck. I fired two or three times at geese flying overhead,
but without success. Then Ramasan caught sight through
the reeds of some duck swimming in the water, and signed
to me to follow him. I crouched low and went after him,
trying to imitate his actions as well as I could. Finally he
lay down and began to crawl through the long grass. Again
I imitated him. Then, after I had gone some distance, he
handed mc the gun. I slowly sat up, and at the same
moment the duck rose. Ramasan, in his anxiety that I
should not miss, seized the barrel of the gun and swung it
round after the birds. When he at last let go, I fired. As
might have boon expected, I missed ; Ramasan's unexpected
interference hud completely confused my aim. Zeal is an

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AFTER BIG GAME

excellent quality, but an excess of it is apt to be embarrassing.
However, as luck would have it, three more rose. I fired,
on my own this time, and got my bird, and we proudly
returned to camp with the prize. Mr Smith has come up
from the wagon camp to be with us while the others are
away. I heard a distant lion roar last night. I hope I
may hear him again to-night, and that he will roar in the
vicinity of the boma.

Wednesday, March 11th. The men returned from the
boma shortly after daybreak. I cannot do better than
give the story of the night in Robert's own brief words:
"Duirs and I returned to our boma at dusk. We saw
absolutely nothing, and were not even visited by a jackal
the whole night. Perhaps the moon was too bright ; it was
very brilliant. We returned to camp with our tails down,
not saying a word."

Monie and I were up at seven and went out with Ramasan
and the gun, and Monie got two Egyptian geese with one
shot. After breakfast the tents were taken down and we
trekked to a good lion place near the swamp. Here the men,
who did not appear particularly tired after their wearisome
night of watching, put out a bait at once, having found a
spot near an old boma where someone else had evidently
been trying his luck.

We had passed a survey camp coming up, about two miles
to our right, and it seems that the surveyor was o\vner of the
boma. We were reminded of the fact later in the day, when
a porter came in with a note from the surveyor asking, some-
what curtly, that we would remove our zebra from the neigh-
bourhood of his boma. As there was a distance of about
400 yards between them we thought the request unreason-
able, and ignored it. Some time later we got another letter
to the effect that if we did not remove the bait he would
do it for us. This was clearly intentionally insolent. How-
ever, we took no notice.

We rode out to visit the bait which the men had killed,
and while we were close to it half-a-dozen zebras came over
the little hill and trotted up to within fifty yards of us.
Robert was able to take a snapshot of them. They remained

238

ON SAFARI

quite a long time, and then my stupid syce came running up
to us and spoiled the picture, for they were off at once. The
new camp is surrounded by mimosa-trees, which lie between
the swamp and a great wood. There is plenty of buffalo
spoor, some of it quite fresh, so that if we are still unfortunate
with the lions we may yet get some sport with the buffalo.
Monie and I took our usual evening walk, with the small rifle,
trying to bring down some small birds. On our return we
had a busy time slaughtering mosquitoes in our tents ; we
must have killed dozens. After supper we sit over the great
log fire. There is a glorious moon, and we are charmed by
the singing of innumerable birds. It is 10.30, yet they are
still trilling their songs, while the chirping of the crickets
and grasshoppers goes on all the time. I do not remember
the birds doing this before. It is difficult to believe that it
is night.

I have often listened with pleasure to these voices of the
wilderness. At home one loves to hear the song of the birds
and the hum of the bees, but in Africa the pleasure is in-
creased a thousandfold. It is surprising, too, how quickly
one learns to recognise the voices, and, to some extent, what
they mean. As we arc off the direct route here, and there is
no track available for the wagons, the bullock carts have
gone up the other side of the swamp and are to wait for us
at Rumuruti.

Friday, March 12th. Robert and Duirs went out early
to visit their bait and look for buffalo. They found the
kill had been eaten up " hair and feet." The surveyor who
had objected to its presence had shot a zebra and placed it
right in front of his old boma, where it is to be presumed he
sat up over it all night. In the morning his zebra was un-
touched. We shot another zebra and set the boys to build
a boma near by. While they were doing this Monie and I
went out as usual with the small rifle, intending, if possible,
to get some small birds. We could not, however, get suffi-
ciently close to them. While I was sitting under a tree
waiting for a chance at a bluebird, a small herd of zebra came
right up to me. Later I had a glimpse of something brown
moving through the grass in front of a tree, and, following up,

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AFTER BIG GAME

I saw that it was a Tommy. I walked slowly round him,
and then came upon a great herd of Tommies, Granti and
zebra, all grazing peacefully together. The zebras made off
as we appeared on the scene, but the beautiful little gazelles
remained, seeming quite fearless. We watched the delightful
spectacle for a long time, and made up our minds to return
another time with our cameras, and by sitting up a tree to
get some photographs. We climbed the tree, but as soon as
we did so the animals all moved away, with the exception of
a doe with a kid, which remained in the grass behind us.
When we were leaving we saw her quite close. She moved
deliberately after the herd, and did not seem at all alarmed.

The grass on this little knoll was very fresh and green,
having sprouted up through the ashes of the foraier crop.
We were only about half-a-mile from camp, although we had
been out some hours. But Nubi had become anxious about
us, and sent one of the gun-bearers to meet and tell us that
it was dangerous to go far from the camp, as lions, rhinos or
buffaloes might be about. During the afternoon we rested ;
and then, to our great delight, Robert suggested that we should
join the men in the boma that night, as there seemed to be a
distinct chance of getting a shot at a lion. Accordingly,
having made all our preparations for the night, we rode off
together about six o'clock.

This boma was so cleverly hidden among the mimosa
thorn bushes that it was exceedingly difficult to make it out.
Early in the night a very large hyaena put in an appearance
and began to devour our bait. We all crept quietly out of
our blankets toward the port-holes. The night was very
clear, and we could see the huge brute with his forepaws on
the hind quarters of the zebra, tearing at his flesh. The
internal parts were the first to be devoured. The sight was
a gruesome one, the beast presenting a terrifying spectacle
in the moonlight, which seems to magnify everything. A
second hyaena came up, and after a bout of snarling at the
other, started on the uppermost hind leg. I was kneeling
on all-fours straining my neck to see out of the peep-hole, and
as no others came, I crept back to my blankets. Monie,
however, remained, and saw the hyaenas leave and some

240

Dead HvaMia.

Baboon.

ON SAFARI

jackal come up. For a while there was quiet. Then the
hyaenas returned and a third one joined them. Later on I
saw a jackal. All the time the hyaenas were eating they
would stop at intervals, and stare full face into the boma
and then look carefully all round. They were always on the
alert, and at the least sound of an approaching lion would
disappear at once. Twice during the night we heard lions
roaring. One, in the early morning, was only about a
hundred yards away. When he roared hyaenas were fighting
just behind the boma, making noises like wild cats, only
much louder. This night, unlike the former, was full of
noises. Instead of the weird and awe-inspiring silence, we
had constant munching and crunching and tearing, with a
savage accompaniment of growling and snarlmg. A great
part of the time either a hyasna or a jackal must have been
lying within two or three feet of me, much to my discomfort.
Birds chirruped, cicadas chirped, frogs croaked, mosquitoes
hummed ; and over this chirping, croaking and buzzing rose
the voices of the great beasts, the hyaenas rising from a deep
growl to a shrill, shrieky laugh, the jackals snarling and
yelping, and the lions roaring. One bird in particular had
a note like a msty alarm clock — a cluck, cluck, cluck, followed
by a high whirring note that lasted about a minute. The
alarm went off about every half hour. I have called it a
bird, but have been since assured that it was a kind of beetle.
In any case the quantity as well as the quality of the sound
was extraordinary. I have mentioned the cicada ; but it
must not be imagined that his gentle chirp at home has
anything in common with the extraordinary volume of sound
produced by his East African relative. And so with all the
others.

So the night went on. The great round moon crept slowly
over the boma and sunk low in the west ; the pale light of
the false dawn suffused the sky in the east, and then, after
a brief interval of darkness, the eastern sky was flooded with
yellow light, which gradually changed to rose, and the day
dawned. The night had passed and we had again seen no
lions, though we had kept most careful watch all the time ;
one of the gun-bearers sat crouched up under his blanket,

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AFTER BIG GAME

his eyes fixed on the peep-hole, touching Robert if hyaenas
came or went, or if he heard any sounds that might indicate
the approach of a lion. And all the time Robert sat with
the barrel of his rifle through the port-hole, watching while
the others slept. For the greater part of the time I was
either sitting or kneeling. I could not lie down without
wanting to clear my throat or cough, which might have spoilt
everything. The night had been long and the morning
broke raw and cold. We were horribly disappointed ; yet
I was glad to have seen the picture of those night prowlers
silhouetted against the moonlit sky. As we came out of the
boma, we saw two of the beautiful marabout storks gazing
at us from a tree close by, and all around the bigger trees
were covered with vultures and other carrion birds, waiting
until we had gone, to attack what the hyaenas had left of the
bait. We tried to snapshot them, but the moment the camera
was pointed in their direction they were off to another tree.

Friday, March 13tk. Being naturally very tired after the
night's vigil, I made up my mind for a quiet day. So after
breakfast I sat out in a long chair and read. Monie went
out and shot a black-and-white long-tailed bird for my
collection. Robert went out stalking a fine water-buck
and Duirs shot a Granti with a lovely head. Then, when
evening came on, he went off to the boma with one gun -bearer.
Robert remained with us, not thinking it right that IMonie
and I should be without a white man to take charge of the
camp.

As luck would have it, Duirs had a thrilling night. At
nine o'clock the hyaenas, which had soon commenced opera-
tions, had eaten most of what was left of the zebra and
dragged the carcass about ten yards from its original position.
Duh's, who had taken off his boots, so as to make as little
noise as possible, put them on again, and was going out
to drive the beasts away and save enough of the carcass to
serve as a bait, when suddenly they bolted. He suspected
that this might mean that there was a lion in the vicinity,
so remained quite still, and suddenly two lions appeared.
One, a fine young maneless lion, leapt on to the carcass, and
into this he promptly put a bullet from the -450, catching

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ON SAFARI

the beast in the side of the chest. The Hon bolted for
a few yards, striking the air with his paws and roaring,
and then fell dead. Duirs waited for about an hour. The
hyaenas did not reappear, and it seemed likely that there
were more lions about. Sure enough one shortly appeared,
cautiously prowling in a circle round the carcass. Then,
apparently making up his mind, he rushed in, seized what
was left of the meat, and started to run off with it. After
going a couple of yards, he stopped, turned round and
looked straight into the boma. At that moment Duirs
fired, and the lion roared, ran a few yards in the direction of
the other, and then stopped. The hyaenas returned after a
while ; and to prevent the two lions being eaten by them,
Duirs had to shout and throw stones from the boma
to frighten them away ; and they finally slunk off to a
distance, and remained there howling. At about one o'clock
this howling ceased, and he guessed there must be another
lion about. Sure enough, a third, a fine black - maned
specimen, came out from among the trees. This one was
very cautious, surveying the position for a long time ; finally,
however, he made up his mind, walked up to the bait and
sat down. Duirs then fired, taking him in the ribs and
raking him forward. Away he went with the usual roar,
and when the sound of his jumping ceased he could be heard
moanmg badly. The sounds did not cease until 4 a.m., so
that he took a long while to die. Then the hysenas came
back, and several had to be shot to keep them from
tearing the dead lions. At 5 o'clock Duirs left the boma
and stood guard over his bag, firing whenever he heard
hyjcnas or jackals in the vicinity of his lions. The pre-
cautions were effective, for when daylight came they were
foimd to be intact. The first was 25 yards from the boma
when shot, and he travelled 120 yards after he was hit
The second was hit at 28 yards' distance and ran 47 yards,
while the third had dragged the bait to a distance of
37 yards when he was hit, and was found 237 yards awaj''.
It is a marvel how he lived so long as he did, for the bullet
was found in his skin on the opposite side to that on which
it had entered, and had pierced both lungs and slightly

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AFTER BIG GAME

touched the heart. Each of the others had also been shot
through the lungs. One can well understand how hunters
get mauled after wounding beasts that can live through all
that. A soft-nosed bullet makes a hole of nearly two inches
in diameter, so that the vitality of these animals is almost
beyond comprehension. The last of the lions was a beauty,
well over nine feet in length and with a lovely mane. His
mouth was perfect, his height to pad 3 feet 8 inches, and his
girth 4 feet 5 inches.

At six o'clock the news was brought to the camp, and we
all went over to the boma to congratulate Duirs and
take some photographs of the trophies. They looked mag-
nificent creatures as they lay there, a spotted hyaena which
had also been shot appearing like a mouse beside them. We
spent some time over the photographs and in seeing the
animals skinned. Duirs was most careful in extracting
his bullets, and also in getting the "floating bones," which
are found one on either side of the shoulder, and are
greatly prized as trophies. The natives have an idea that
they bring good luck to their possessor. The boys were
particularly careful to secure all the fat they could get, having
immense faith in its curative properties ; and Ramasan cut
out the heart of the biggest one, and gave a bit from the tip
of it to Robert. I asked him if he was expected to eat it ;
but no, it was to be rubbed all over the body to prevent one
from being eaten by lions. The skins were all taken off,
the skinning of the heads, which is a very delicate operation,
being left until we returned to camp. Then we went back
to breakfast.

We got back at nine o'clock ; and then the porters in the
camp, armed with their heavy-headed short sticks, and
fantastically bedecked with grasses and feathers, went shout-
ing forth to meet their comrades who were returning with
the heads and skins of the lions. When they met there was
a terrible commotion, and I had the pleasure of seeing the
famous lion dance of which I had heard so much. I went up
to photograph them, but soon found myself the centre of an
excited mob dancing round me and throwing handfuls
of grass over me and so on. I beat a hasty retreat ; but

244

ON SAFARI

Diiirs was caught up without any warning and carried
shoulder high at the head of the procession as the hero of
the occasion. Then Robert came in for his turn, the natives
all the while singing a wild chorus, which I can only suspect
had reference to the day's proceedings, and keeping up a sort
of vigorous trotting dance, leaping, stamping, and flourishing
their sticks so energetically that the perspiration literally
poured from their bodies and they became quite exhausted.
We all retired to our tents for the sake of peace. A little
African jubilation goes a long way.

As we were finishing breakfast two Europeans came up
in shooting kit and the usual safari beards. Men do not, as
a rule, shave on safari, and the beards they grow in the first
three or four weeks are not becoming. They were anxious
to learn what kind of sport we had found, as they had been
day after day through country that was all burnt out and
had scarcely seen any game. They had, however, killed one
rhino. They had coffee with us, and before returning to
their wagons, watched the skinning of the heads. This is
a very delicate business and requires an exceptionally good
and careful man ; otherwise the hairless skin of the lips,
which is very thin and delicate, would be left on the head,
the ears would be badly skinned, and the head would be
spoiled as a trophy. We were busy with the skins all day,
and Robert sent into Rumuruti for salt for them, but could
only get rough salt, which is of little use. He had made up
his mind to pass yet another night in the boma, and in the
afternoon went out with Duirs and shot another zebra
for bait. It was pouring with rain but he was deter-
mined to go, and left about 6 o'clock. Duirs remained
in camp as our protector. He carried out his task by
retiring to bed immediately after dinner, a very natural
proceeding, seeing that he had had no sleep for two nights
in succession. However, his presence possibly had the
desired effect, for we had no disturbance whatever. The
rain fortunately ceased about 7 o'clock, but of course every-
thing in and about the boma was soaked. The moon rose
about nine, but there were very heavy dark clouds, so that
the night was not too bright. The hyaenas were calling, too,

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so that we hoped they would attract any Hons in the neigh-
bourhood in the direction of the bait.

Sunday, March 15th. We waited anxiously for Robert's
arrival. He put in an appearance with a Tommy which he
had shot on the way home. It was his total bag. He had
had a wretched time. The night was dark and rain fell
most of the time. Had a lion put in an appearance he de-
clares he could not have hit him, as he could not see two
yards before him. Early in the night ten or a dozen hyaenas
came and dragged the zebra and the three-foot pole to which
it was tied to a distance of about 150 yards. Then the
hyaenas bolted, and he heard two lions tearing the remains
of the carcass, and growling. It was, of course, too far off for
him to see anything at all. When they went off he went
out and brought back what was left — three legs with practi-
call}^ no meat, and the head, and put them in front of the
boma. But it was useless. There were no more visitors.

After breakfast we struck camp and trekked to Rumuruti,
which we reached about noon. Robert and Duirs went
round by the lake, hoping to see some water-buck, while
Monie and I, with syces and gun-bearer, kept to the
straight line. We met at the river near Rumuruti and
forded it, rousing great numbers of duck and water fowl.
At Rumuruti we heard that three days before a lion had
sprung upon a Somali, who was sitting over the fire in front
of the boma in which he had enclosed his goats, and mauled
him very badly. We passed the little tent where the poor
fellow was lying. There was a large group of inquisitive
neighbours outside. It was fortunate for him that an
English doctor on safari happened to be in the place to
dress his wounds. This is the third case attributed to
this lion, the second man, also a Somali, having been killed.
We pitched our camp a little outside Rumuruti in a place
almost surrounded by Somali cattle bomas full of cattle and
camels. We on-y stayed the one night, however, as the
mosquitoes were troublesome, and we feared lest some of
the Somali cattle might have been bitten in crossing the fly
country, and that our own cattle might suffer. Robert's
first thought was for his skins, and he went to buy all i he salt

246

ON SAFARI

there was in the place, but could only manage to muster six
bottles. We found here a bundle of most welcome letters,
the first we had received since we left.

Monday, March 16th. We started off at 7 a.m. and followed
the old track of the river and into the woods. These were
swarming with butterflies. There were lovely large ones
with swallow tails and the most brilliant hues — green and
black, blue and black, yellow and black, brown with yellow
spots, and yellow and white. Before entering the forest we
crossed a wide stretch of green plain. Here we saw a couple
of steinbuck, charming little creatures about twice the size of
a large hare. They went off in different directions, but after
going a little way lay down. This, it appears, is their habit
in the open. We walked towards one, but it was evidently
watching us all the time, for before we had gone any distance
it was up and off, only to lie down again when it felt it had
put a safe distance between it and us. The glimpses we had
of the river were very beautiful, and quite different from
when we had passed before. Then all was scorched and burnt,
but now all the plain is of a tender green, and the low hills
beyond are dotted with trees of all shades of verdure. After
emerging from the wood we crossed the open stretch where
poor old Ginger was lost and camped by the ravine on the
opposite side to our old camping ground. We have a beautiful
view of Momit Kenia to the left, and of the Aberdare Range
in front, with the low, wooded hills dotted in the near fore-
ground, while to the right lie the wooded heights where the
buffalo was chased.

Nubi, our headman, came to Duirs yesterday and told
him that the man who kept the Indian store had laid
claim to Jeremy Taylor, the poor, strayed, half-starved
donkey we had found some weeks back. We didn't learn
how he had come to be lost, but we were all very sorry that
poor Jeremy's holidays were over. We had grown quite
fond of the poor emaciated beast that never tried to leave us,
but followed the porters on the march, roamed freely round
the camp when we halted, stole the mules' supper, and rolled
himself gaily in the ashes of the fire. Poor old Jeremy !
I am sure that when he is carrying heavy loads of provisions

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AFTER BIG GAME

from Gil-Gil to his master's stores he will often look back
upon his safari with us. May his burden be lightened by
the memory !

Tuesday, March 17th. Duirs went off very early, at 4 a.m.,
to try for the big buffalo bull that rumour declared
was in the neighbourhood. Robert went alone into the
forest in another direction to see what he could find. He
saw plenty of game and fresh buffalo spoor. Monie and I
began the morning by making butterfly nets from my mos-
quito veils, and mounting them on sticks and hoops of cane
which Ramasan had made for us. Then we went off into the
forest in search of some of the gorgeous butterflies we had
seen yesterday. We caught quite a number — large ones,
green and black, white and black, and yellow and brown,
mostly with swallow tails and beautifully spotted with colour.
I managed to bring quite a collection of these back with me,
though we found it very difficult to pack them securely with-
out damaging their beautiful wings. We had had no experi-
ence of this sort of thing, and had made no preparations
to deal with specimens. Duirs had a fatiguing and
fruitless day, having walked a great distance and found
nothing fresh. He came back in the evening looking very
tired.

Wednesday, March 18fh. The men went out at 4 a.m. after
buffalo, and found the spoor of a large herd to the east of
the camp and followed it up into the forest. They returned
to breakfast, having seen nothing of any bull, but went off
again, taking a small tent and some food, intending to follow
up the trail of the herd and, if possible, to catch them in
their feeding time just at dawTi. In countries like this the
buffalo keeps very much to cover during the day, coming
out after sundown and returning just about dawn. A shot
in the open is generally obtainable only in the twilight.
In the daytime the hunter must follow his game into the
thicket, and this is an extremely chancy and dangerous
business.

Monie and I had another day after the butterflies, but we
were not so successful as in our former attempt, as the day
Tvas cloudy and the insects came out only occasionally, and

248

Foal of Common Zebra.

^B

Wild Ostrich Nest.

ON SAFARI

when they did so kept mostly to the tops of the trees. We
saw a large grey monkey with a white face cross our track,
and shortly after, another one. On the whole, this was a very
uneventful day, and we got back to camp at tea-time very
tired and hungry.

Thursday, March l^th. Duirs and Robert returned
from their hunt after buffalo. They had found their
grazing ground of the previous day and had camped near it.
The syces who brought their mules back to our camp came
in with a wonderful story that they had run into a herd of
buffaloes on their way back. Nubi promptly sent off a
couple of gun-bearers to try to find the men and let them know
where the buffaloes were. They at once returned on their
tracks to the spot where the herd was reported to be. As
we had half expected, they not only could not find it, but
did not even come across a trace of it. They walked for
miles through the forest where the undergrowth was so
dense that it was impossible to see more than a couple of
yards ahead, and it was essential to keep every nerve and
sense alert against a sudden attack from a buffalo. This
was another instance of the unreliability of the native. His
mind is like that of a child. Given the tiniest foundation of
fact, he will proceed to erect such a superstructure of imagina-
tion that by the time the process is complete he has come
to have perfect faith in the reality of the vision he has con-
jured up. Robert, returning disgusted, put it more tersely
when he remarked that "These niggers think nothing of
telling any quantity of black lies." However, we found that
a body of Wandorobo, the wild men of the country, and
mighty hunters, were in the neighbourhood, and they may
have frightened off the buffalo. Monie and I went with a
couple oi' native boys to visit the old camp. As we saw many
beautiful butterflies about we sent back for our nets, but
after rushing vigorously about until nearly one o'clock, only
succeeded in capturing a few good specimens. Still, my
collection was growing. In the afternoon we pottered about
the camp, lazily watching the birds, and particularly my
favourite green parrots. It was just the day for lazing,
glorious sunshine and, for a wonder, no rain.

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Friday, March 20th. We struck camp early in the morning
and left Siron (the Masai name for the place where we
camped) between seven and eight. Our way lay through
belts of forest. The first ascent was very steep, and as we
cleared it ahead of the safari, we stopped till the caravan
came up, so that we might watch the wagons coming over the
rough, steep track. Often it seemed that the heavy vehicles
must stick altogether ; but the straining bullocks, urged on
by the shouting of the drivers and the cracking of their long
whips, which make a report just like a rifle shot, always
managed to pull them through even the most difficult places.
Sometimes one of the bullocks would stop, free its neck from
the yoke, and block all the others for a few moments until
it was got going again.

Looking back from the top of the ridge the view is wonder-
ful. The Aberdares and Mount Kenia half buried in masses
of fleecy white cloud, the boundless Laikipia plains and the
forests around, make a picture I shall never forget. The
next forest is the most beautiful I have ever seen. The
foreground is covered with bracken, ferns of all kinds and
shades, huge thistles, gay flowers, and behind all these the
great, gaunt cedars, their trunks hoary with silvery green
moss and grey lichen, and looking as though they were
hundreds of years old. Within the forest the track, broad
at the entrance, narrows, and the burning rays of the sun no
longer penetrate as they do through the sparse foliage of the
outer fringe. Here the gnarled and twisted trunks stand
thick and close, and the undergrowth of flowers and shrubs
grows from six to twelve feet in height. Wherever the sun
breaks through in great shafts of light, butterflies of gorgeous
hues flit to and fro, glowing like jewels against the gloom.
Brightly hued birds fly overhead chirruping and chattering
to each other, or dart from bough to bough of the great green
canopy overhead. On either side giant creepers hang from
the branches, binding tree to tree. Every now and again
there is a path beaten through the jungle like a tunnel, the
trail of a rhino. The air is heavy with a close, earthy smell,
like that of a hothouse.

The forest ended as it began, with a fringing border of

250

ON SAFARI

ferns, thistles and gay flowering plants, opening out on to a
great green park of undulating pasture interspersed with
coppices and single trees ; it was an ideal spot for an old
English castle, having a wide green vista in front and huge
forest trees behind and around.

We moved slowly on towards the river, and finally camped
once more, and alas, for the last time, above Thomson's
Falls. Naturally the first thing that Monie and I did, when we
had got rid of the dust of the journey and had refreshed our-
selves with tea, was to go and visit the Falls. We remained
out until after 7 o'clock.

We found plenty of buffalo spoor all around, and once
more hopes ran high. They fell again, however, when we
learned that two hunters had left this morning, after havmg
spent five hopeful but fruitless days after those same beasts.
A herd of buffalo is singularly erratic in its movements. It
has no fixed habits, so that although one may track it doAvn
overnight, it is by no means easy, in a country with much
cover and plenty of drinking places, to foretell where it is
likely to be the next morning. The beasts wander about all
night, and may turn up miles away from the spot you have
carefully selected as their likeliest stopping place. The
porters were all day preparing for a long trek to-morrow.
In the afternoon the wagons were sent off on the way to
Gil-Gil.

Saturday, March 2\st. We started very early, as the day
was to be a long one. We took a new route down the west
side of Lake El Bolossat, and had a magnificent view of
Mount Kenia and the Aberdares. The whole valley seemed
full of zebra, and there were numerous herds of kongoni.
They were very difficult to approach, but Duirs and I,
by stalking carefully and creeping up behind an anthill,
managed to get within about 50 yards of one small herd
which was grazing on the top of a little grassy hillock. One
buck had a good head, and we got him with one shot, the
bullet making a tiny hole at the base of his throat. He
leapt a few yards and then rolled over on his back, dead. I
took a photo of him and had his head cut off to preserve as
a trophy. The boys took as much meat as they could carry,

251

AFTER BIG GAME

and left the rest to the vultures. As usual, we had scarcely
turned our back on the carcass before it was surrounded by
an expectant ring of these repulsive fowl waiting until we
should retreat to a safe distance before pouncing upon the
remains ; and yet, before the kongoni fell, there was no sign
of them, not even a speck in the sky. They must have
amazing powers of sight to detect a kill from a height at which
they themselves are invisible. This gathering of the birds
is one of the most interesting of the phenomena of the wilds,
and one which I have many times watched with never-failing
interest. First a speck in the blue, which seems to fall with
ever-increasing velocity ; then other specks appearing with
incredible speed from every point of the compass, until the
air above the kill is darkened with the spread of wings. They
drop to earth and stand around in a circle, or perch in the
boughs of neighbouring trees if there be any close enough.
They are of all sorts and sizes. The vultures are dignified
and sedate, quietly but keenly expectant of the moment of
your departure, but the small fry, such as kites, kestrels and
the like, form a shrieking, tumultuous mass, around which
the marabouts pace solemnly as though on guard. Above
there are others and yet others constantly converging to the
spot. You move off and there is a rush and a tumult of
sound — the flapping of wings, chattering of harsh voices,
clashing of beaks. You look back, and there is a black,
struggling heap. A minute or two, and the flapping and
rushing of wings begins afresh. The birds of prey are once
more mounting to their airy look-out.

We twice forded the winding little river, crossing stretches
of undulating plain, and occasionally passing patches of wood.
Our next camping place had been fixed at a point some way
beyond the junction of the two roads. While fixing the exact
spot Robert took photos of zebra, which came within fifty
yards of us without taking fright or showing signs of any-
thing except curiosity. Duirs saw a warthog peering at
us through the trees, dismounted in a moment and was after
it. We heard shot after shot, and followed up to find
that he had got a couple of nicely tusked specimens. We
photographed them, after patiently waiting for the sun to

252

ON SAFARI

come out, and then went back to camp with their heads.
We were all very tired after om- long day's march, and
thoroughly enjoyed dinner and the rest afterwards in front
of our tents. We could not help admiring the picturesque
figm-c that Ramasan made in his yellow knitted helmet,
sitting at his little tent door before the fire, while the other
two gun-boys lay at full stretch, watching the pieces of meat
which they had hung from a little pole stuck into the ground
over the blaze. The effect was perfect. The dark skin
gleamed in the firelight, and the whole picture stood out in
glowing relief against a dark background of trees, the branches
of which seemed to take on new, quaint, distorted shapes
with each flicker of the flames. Behind the trees hysenas
were calling to each other like cats ; probably they had
winded the headless carcasses of the warthogs.

Sunday, March 22nd. We started at 7.30. Lake El
Bolossat was hidden in a white covering of mist which did
not lift for some hours, although the air was very clear. The
Aberdares, in particular, looked perfect in the morning light.
As we rose out of the valley we had an extensive view of
the surrounding country. Little rocky and woody hillocks
dotted the plains, and herds of zebra and kongoni were every-
where to be seen. While admiring the view we saw a pair
of ostriches with a brood of about 16 chickens. When the
old cock bird, who was evidently on guard, saw us, he called
them round him and they all ran off and disappeared. There
were some jackals sneaking through the grass a little way off,
and a herd of kongoni stood on the crest of the hill, looking
most picturesque against the background of the distant hills.
In the opposite valley we stood for a while and watched five
warthogs running backwards and forwards in a quaint,
peculiar way. They looked quite small as compared with the
kongoni they were near. Not far from them was a water-
buck, but it was too far away for me to distinguish clearly
his points of difference from other antelopes. He seemed to
be in a great hurry, and we watched him run for a long way
before he finally disappeared among the trees. Towards
noon we came to the old camping ground where we had
stayed on our second day on safari. Strangely enough, none

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AFTER BIG GAME

of us remembered the spot until Duirs pointed out its
various features, and so recalled it to our memories. We
lunched here under a tree, and two Somalis passed with a
loaded camel during the meal. It is curious how little events
like these become important when we have scarcely seen
anyone outside our own party for nearly six weeks. Then
the safari arrived, shouting and singing, and after they also
had rested and refreshed we moved on again past the well-
remembered spot where Monie and I had lain baking on the
ground while the men had tried to stalk a leopard. Later
on we passed the place where Duirs shot the kongoni which
was our first kill. Then we went on, up hill and down
dale, crossing rough, rocky ravines, fording little streams,
climbmg hillocks and traversing wooded vales, until we
brought up for the day in a delightful wooded valley and sat
down to wait for the coming of the tents. In about an hour
they appeared and were speedily pitched. The boys got
wood and water, and we bathed, dined, and sat outside our
tents to take farewell of camp life.

Monday, March 23rd. We struck camp for the last time.
As the boys packed up their load all those who possessed
horns capable of being used as trumpets blew into them, and
the others shouted, and to this accompaniment we started
off. The boys were in great spirits at the prospect of return-
ing to their homes and families. We passed our first camp-
ing ground and then came in sight of Mount Longonat,
which stands at the head of Lake Naivasha. It was a lovely
distant view, and the Aberdares, now far behind, were very
beautiful. The track was very rocky, but we never had to
dismount, so surefooted were our mules. So on we went,
scrambling up and down the hill-sides and among the rocks
and boulders, crossing two tiny rivers which ran through
rocky ravines, and finally came to the beaten track once more.
Then, after a stretch of dreary, uninviting plain, we reached
Gil-Gil at noon. Here we remained in our saddles. There
was no shade ; we had some time to wait ; and it seemed
cooler riding than walking. So we went on to the little
Indian shop where blankets and beads and tinned things
were sold, and then watched some Kikuyus who were waiting

254

ON SAFARI

for the coming of the train. We were glad to see the safari
arrive. Our tents were pitched, and after lunch we rested
until 4.30, when our carriage was attached to the up train.
We bade farewell to the safari and took our boys two hours
up the line to Nakuru, where we dined and then returned to
our carriage. Our beds had been made up in the train and
we slept there until about 5 a.m., when we were awakened by
being attached to the down train. We had a long day's
ride, passing many herds of antelopes, and in the morning
a number of boars. We reached Nairobi about 5 p.m. on
March 24, having spent a most delightful and memorable
six weeks.

Here ends our African visit, for we went on board
the Prinzessin at KOindini on Saturday, April 4. Of the
intervening days there is little to say, though there was much
to be done in the way of packing up our treasures and trophies
and in bidding farewell to all the friends whose kindness and
hospitality had done so much to make our stay pleasant and
successful. Our first care, of course, was to call at Govern-
ment House to pay our respects to Sir Henry and Lady
Belfield and to restore their daughter to them. Then we
went back to our old quarters at the Norfolk Hotel, and
Robert signalised our return to the comforts of civilisation
by going to bed and having his dinner there. The next few
days were very busy. All the things we had stored up on
the safari had to be unpacked, cleaned and dried where
necessary, and then repacked for the voyage. There were
many letters awaiting us, and many friends to see. We
found Captain Winthrop-Smith suffering from the effects of
fever and looking very ill, though he picked up somewhat
before we said good-bye. Robert gave him some lion claws.
Then we took the Uganda Railway for the last time and
went back to Mombasa, whither our belongings had preceded
us. We went on board together with an eight-months-old
buffalo, a couple of monkeys and a cage of birds which we
were taking home with us. Then, on Sunday morning, we
steamed out of Kilindini Harbour and bade farewell to the
lovely coast, to the wild barbaric life of savage Africa, to

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AFTER BIG GAME

Mombasa with its memories and its weird combination of
East and West, to Nairobi with its quaint admixture of
modern civihsation with the habits and customs of immemorial
times, to the great plains and the wild, free life with which
they teem, and all the wonder and mystery which go to
make up the charm of Africa.

256

Xiitivc Huts at .iiiija.

Nati\" C'liiMii'ii at Itiiniiii iiti.

PART III.— SPECIAL SUBJECTS

CHAPTER VI

Some Races and Customs

The visitor to East Africa cannot help being struck by
the extraordinary diversity of the native races. CUmatic
differences may have something to do with this, for in a
journey to the interior one meets with almost every variety
of climate, from the moist heat of the coast to the dry heat of
the plains round the Guaso Nyiro, and the bracing air of the
Laikipia uplands to the extreme cold of the Kenia slopes.

Racial descent is another, and I think a greater, factor.
All the African tribes trace their origin to four great race
stocks : the Bantu, the Hamitic, the Semitic and the Nilotic.
Not that it is possible to trace any tribe back to one alone.
They have blended and intermingled to such an extent that
some tribes — e.g. the Nandi — present the characteristics of all
the various stocks, together with a few others not mentioned.

I have no intention of entering upon an ethnological dis-
cussion. I couldn't, for one thing, and I don't want to, for
another. Readers who are interested can find all they want
in books written purely from this standpoint. There is a
whole library of them. But without dealing with the native
races at all from a scientific standpoint, the traveller in
British East Africa cannot help finding much to interest him
in the customs and habits of the various tribes, and in their
physical, mental and moral characteristics — points which
must be taken into consideration, too, by all concerned in the
development of this portion of the Empire.

In considering the native races of Africa one has to dis-
tinguish the native tribes pure and simple from the mixed
peoples of the Coast — ^the Swahilis and Somalis. These arc

R 257

AFTER BIG GAME

blends of the Arabs with the Coast tribes proper, and this
Arab blend brings the Oriental temperament into the
question. In 'addition to these, the coloured races include
pure Arabs and various immigrants from India, most of whom
the settlers would gladly see depart for their native land.

Among the native races the most interesting, without a
doubt, are the Masai, with their allied races, the Turkana
and the Suk, whose headquarters were in the Naivasha
district, and the Kikuyu, who dwell in the region between
Nairobi and IMount Kenia, and the Kavirondo, who dwell in
the Kisumu province and around the shores of Victoria
Nyanza.

It is asserted that these African tribes are the debris of
an ancient civilisation, which stretched from Arabia, through
parts of Egypt and Abyssinia to the centre of Africa, and
that there is plenty of documentary and other evidence to
prove it. As to that, I am not competent to offer an opinion.
But a study of their manners and customs leads one inevit-
ably to the conclusion that at one time some, at least, of the
African tribes were far more highly organised and civilised
than they are to-day. Whether we shall in time succeed
in grafting our Western civilisation on to these decaying
remnants of the past is another question, on which I prefer
to say nothing. But the fact is that the African native
races are on the dovm. grade, and that unless they assimilate
Western manners and customs their fate is certain. There
has been one melancholy example in North America, I
hope that the tragedy will not be repeated in East Africa.

In the notes which follow I have recorded various points
which struck me as being of interest in the manners and
customs of certam native tribes. Much is from personal
observation, some from hearsay. As regards the latter, I
was fortunate in having as my sole companion for some
months, a man whose knowledge of East Africa, its natives,
its game, and its agricultural and pastoral possibilities, is
second to none. To his knowledge, the fruit of many years
of actual and intimate experience, I am greatly indebted,
in this and in the succeeding chapters on the prospects of the
colony.

258

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

The Masai is the most interesting of the East African
natives. He is a herdsman and a warrior. Incidentally, he
is the greatest problem of the British Government. The
men are strong, vigorous, well-knit, a trifle above the average
in height, lean and " fit "-looking. They tread as though
they were the lords of creation. And they have lorded it
among the African tribes for many years. They have little
of the pure negro about them. They lack the thick lips and
snub, spreading nose of that type. Many of them, indeed,
have quite good features and eyes. A Masai warrior in his
full panoply of war attire is an impressive person. When a
race has held imdisputed sway over the plains where it dwells,
has moved its cattle where it pleased, has raided its neighbours
at its own sweet will, and has for untold years levied black-
mail on all around and on everybody who passed through its
dominions, it is apt to acquire an exaggerated notion of its
o\Mi importance. The Masai have done so. When, in addi-
tion, its people are strong, virile, pugnacious by instinct and
habit, intelligent and resourceful, swayed only by their
appetites and entirely disinclined either to work or to trade,
the problem of bringing them into peaceful relationship
with modem civilisation is a serious one. What the Masai
may become under a strong British administration remains
to be seen. The outlook, to my mind, is by no means a
promising one. Up to the present nothing serious has
occurred, although the existing position has not been reached
without trouble. A serious crisis arose when farmers first
began to settle in the Rift valley on lands which the Masai
claimed as their own. Fortunately, largely through the
intelligence of the Masai chief, Lenana, the trouble was
settled without bloodshed, the tribe agreeing to leave Lake
Naivasha and the Rift valley for a reserve on the Laikipia
plain, which was to be theirs and theirs only for ever. Now,
however, white farmers have recognised the advantages of
the Laikipia plains and are settling there. It is not clear
what the future may bring forth. The Masai may yet give
serious trouble.

Like the Spartans of ancient Greece, the Masai are organised
upon a purely military basis. Their business is war, and

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AFTER BIG GAME

war only. The males, who alone count in the constitution
of the tribe, are divided into three classes : Boys (01-lyoni),
Warriors (01-muran), and Elders (01-moruo). The boy
becomes a warrior after the ceremony of his circumcision,
which occurs at any time from thirteen to seventeen, accord-
ing to his physical development. This ceremony is periodical,
and is spread over three or four years, the youths who are
insufficiently developed the first year being put back to the
second or the third, or even the fourth. An interval of four
years elapses before another circumcision. Each period of
circumcision has a name of its o"\vn, and the men of the tribe
are divided into groups, according to their period. At each
new circumcision the warriors of a preceding group are
relegated to the class of the Elders. Hence " service with
the colours " fills the years of adolescence and early man-
hood. The ceremony is a public one, carried out with
elaborate ritual, celebrated with dancing and generally com-
memorated by a raid in which the novice is " blooded."
The girls have to undergo a similar ceremony before they are
permitted to marry.

A warrior may own neither property nor wife. He lives
with a number of others in a common house, with the un-
married girls of the tribe. These do no work, their sole care
being to make themselves agreeable to the warriors. It is
a curious fact that although promiscuity is thus encom'aged
it is considered a disgrace for a ndito (unmarried girl) to bear
a child. Should it happen, the child is destroyed. Not many
years since the mother also would have been put to death.

The military discipline is very severe. The strictest
temperance is insisted upon. Intoxicants and tobacco are
absolutely forbidden, and the only food permitted is beef,
milk and blood. Each company of warriors has its captain
{leguynan), and in case of war a commander-in-chief is elected
from among these captains.

The chief weapon is the great stabbing spear, with a blade
more than two feet in length. Originally the blade was
broad, like a willow leaf. Now it is long and narrow. In
addition, a short sword in a hide scabbard and a knobkerrie
are carried. Great shields of ox or buffalo hide are used for

260

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

protection, and these are covered with designs in red, white
and black, indicating the o^^^ler's status or clan. At the
close of his fighting career the warrior takes over any property
he may have won as an 01-muran, buys property and wives
as his means permit, and settles down as an elder.

The clothing of the men is primitive, a piece of hide or
skin sufficing for all purposes. Sometimes a cap made from
a goat's stomach is worn to protect the hair, which is braided
with leather thongs into a number of queues and plastered
with clay and grease. A warrior in full panoply wears a
head-dress of lion's mane or ostrich feathers, with the idea of
striking awe into the enemy. On the warpath, too, they
excite themselves to frenzy by chewmg the bark of the acacia.
As they are savages, the ether used by the German troops
for the same purpose is, of course, out of the question.

As ear ornaments they wear lumps of wood or stone. The
lobe of the ear is perforated and the hole is gradually stretched
by inserting balls of clay until it will take quite a large stone.
One such, which I have seen, weighs nearly three pounds.
A Masai elder who has sons of fighting age may, like the
women, wear large, flat coils of iron wire pendent from his
ear-lobes.

The women's dress is little more elaborate than the men's.
A skirt of skin or hide is fastened round the waist, opening
" dircctoire " fashion do\vTi the side, so that every movement
exposes the legs up to the thigh. Possibly this may be
designed with the idea of displaying the leg ornaments,
which are the pride of Masai women. A square of the same
material is thrown over the shoulders.

The women shave their heads, which gives them a rather
repulsive appearance. Their ornaments take the form,
almost exclusively, of great coils of brass or iron wire. A
young girl will have her legs and arms almost completely
covered by these coils, and a married woman will, in addition,
have a great ruff of the same material coiled into a flat spiral,
standing out round her neck, and a pair of flat, coiled discs
hanging from her cars. The discomfort of wearing such a
load of metal must be extreme. Mais il faut soujfrir pour
etre belle ; antl one has heard of civilised women undergoing

261

AFTER BIG GAME

inconvenience to the same end. But the Masai woman does
all the work of the tribe. How she manages to do it, mider
the circmnstances, is a mystery. Chains and bead rings are
threaded through the top of the ear, and an unmarried girl
will display, in place of the iron " ruff," a multitude of iron
and bead chains, perhaps from a dozen to twenty rows.

A Masai ki'aal consists of a number of long, narrow huts,
about five feet high, placed end to end in a circle. The
interior of each hut is divided into several compartments
connected by holes through the partition walls. It is, of
course, pitch dark inside. The houses have a framework of
rough lattice, which is plastered with mud mixed with cow-
dung. The roof is domed and covered with grass. Some-
times, in wet weather, hides are spread over this. There is
but one opening, the door. A fire is built in a fireplace made
from three big stones. This is simply for warmth. There
are no cooking pots as among other tribes, for the Masai eats
no grain or vegetables, and roasts all his meat. As there is
no provision for ventilation or for the escape of smoke, the
atmosphere of a Masai hut, crowded with its unwashed
residents and their garments, is better imagined than
experienced.

The circular form of the kraal is to enable it to be used as
a cattle zariba. The beasts are driven into the centre, and
any part of the circle unoccupied by huts is filled in with an
impenetrable hedge of thorns.

Naturally the whole enclosure becomes one great dung-
heap, and the strong, penetrating odour of the mass, festering
under a tropical sun, and the swarming of the myriads of
flies it attracts, are an abiding feature of a Masai encamp-
ment, and the one most likely to impress itself on the mind
of a casual visitor. As one might anticipate under such
conditions, ophthalmia, prevalent in most parts of tropical
Africa, is rampant. It is a sight as common as it is repulsive
to see children with sore, inflamed and running eyes, covered
w^tli flies of which neither they nor their parents appear to
take the slightest notice.

The moral conditions are on a par with the physical. The
Masai are polyandrous as well as polygamous. An elder

262

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

makes no scruple of lending one or more of his wives to a
friend or casual stranger, and the women have as few scruples
as the men. It may be gathered that a Masai kraal is not
welcomed in the vicinity of any settlement where a com-
munity is trying to develop along civilised lines. It attracts
to it all the undesirable elements, and becomes a centre of
riot and demoralisation.

I have already referred to the food of the Masai. Milk is
the staple diet. It is, indeed, almost the sole food of the
boys, women and children. The tribe has acquired a some-
what evil notoriety as blood-drinkers. It sounds horrible, of
course, but I have a recollection of the practice being recom-
mended only a few years ago in England, as a cure for con-
sumption. The patient went to a slaughter-house and drank
the fresh, hot liquid. That is what the IMasai does, save that
the beast is not killed. An arrow with a small heart-shaped
head is shot into one of the arteries of the neck. The blood,
as it gushes out, is caught and drunk, and the wound is
plastered up again with a Imnp of clay and cow dung.

As a rule the blood is not mixed with milk as among the
Kikuyu. The milk is nearly always curdled, as usual in
Africa. The calabashes in which it is kept are scoured with
wood ashes, a branch of a tree, called by the natives loiyiyo,
being charred for the purpose. This helps to curdle the milk,
and gives it a smoky flavour. Sour milk is also added for
the same purpose.

The warriors eat meat, taking the bullock away into the
scrub and killing and consuming it there. But any one of
the herd that dies from disease or is accidentally killed may
be eaten by the whole tribe. Their objection to the sale of
their cattle extends to the sale of milk. It is extremely
difficult to purchase milk from a Masai kraal, and still more
so to get it pure. The Masai are very fond of honey wine,
but this they (obtain from the Kikuyu, who are great at the
preparation of fermented liquors. From them also they
obtain the snuff which they use liberally.

The INIasai greeting has its repulsive side to a European.
Spitting is a token of respect. A Masai spits before any
imj)()i'tant event, or at the advent of a friend or snjierior.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Before advancing to shake hands with you he will expectorate
freely into his palm. He is as great an expert in the art of
expectoration as the tobacco-chewing American, of whom
one reads but never sees. The gap left by the two front teeth
removed from his lower jaw is of great assistance to him in
this function. The real idea underlying their removal is
said to be to enable him to be fed in case of tetanus. I have
some doubt as to this, but he certainly finds the aperture
useful. Another quaint method of showing respect is for a
child to butt his head into his elders' stomachs.

As might be anticipated, the women do all the work. The
herding of the cattle, however, is left to the boys, who have
wonderful control over the beasts. It is delightful to watch
a naked urchin handling a great herd of cattle with the
utmost skill and perfect coolness. The women carry all loads
on the back, with a chest strap — not a head strap such as
the Kikuyu women use.

The Masai dead are not buried, except in the case of a
chief, who is placed in a shallow hole and a cairn built over
it, to which each passer-by contributes a stone. The chiefs
alone, among the Masai, are held to have a future existence
— in the form of a snake. The undistinguished dead are
placed outside the camp, each upon his right side, with his
face turned to the west — and the hyaenas do the rest. The
reason for this posture I was unable to learn. Presumably
it has some forgotten religious significance.

As to the future of the Masai I can offer no opinion. He
is the least likely of the East African peoples to come into
line with Western civilisation. He will not work, neither
will he trade. His cattle are his treasure, and he hoards
them as a miser hoards gold. He is a nomad by instinct and
long habit. It will be almost impossible to restrict him to
one limited area, save by force. Docility is not his strong
point. On the other hand, fighting is. If the youth of the
nation could be trained to any form of labour, as herdsmen,
syces, cattle dealers, or even as native police, the Masai might
be brought into touch with the new conditions growing up
around them. If not, their fate can only be that which has
befallen the Red Man of North America. But remembering

264

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

the bloodshed of the Indian wars, and the fact that the Masai
is the fighting man of Central Africa, that prospect is not an
attractive one for any Government to face.

With the Masai we may consider the Suk, Turkana and
Nandi tribes, which are of similar (Nilotic-Hamitic) origin.
But these, instead of being distinct tribes, are conglomera-
tions of various elements. Hence, although they show their
original descent in the main, one can trace among them the
characteristics of many races.

The history of Central Africa is a record of the strong
attacking the weak. The result is generally the extermina-
tion of the latter. The survivors flee to various fastnesses,
where they are joined by similar remnants of other tribes.
In course of time a new tribe is formed out of these odds and
ends. As it grows in strength, it has its little day, becomes
aggressive, attacks its weaker neighbours, seizes their cattle,
perhaps their women, and so on. Thus, in quite recent times,
the Suk attacked the Samburu and dispersed them utterly,
only to be themselves raided by the Masai and forced east-
ward to join the Turkana. So such minor tribes as the Suk,
Turkana and Nandi exhibit an amazing diversity of type,
custom and language.

The Suk and Turkana are often referred to as the " giants
of Equatorial Africa," This is an exaggeration. They are
of noticeable stature, but they can only be termed giants in
comparison with the pygmies. The first point that strikes
one in connection with them is their curious head-dress, a
sort of gigantic chignon. This is formed by pulling the hair
out to its fullest length, interweaving it with other hair from
the heads of the owner's ancestors, and plastering the whole
with grease and mud. When a father dies his sons divide
his collection and add it to their own, so that the mass is
continually growing. The completed coiffure is enclosed
in a sort of oval bag. The size is a sort of certificate of long
descent. I saw specimens which hung below the wearers'
waists. Future generations, I should imagine, would find
them inconvenient. As it is, the bottom edge is sometimes
folded underneath, the fold being used as a pocket. On gala
occasions the edges are ornamented with feathers stuck into

265

AFTER BIG GAME

quill sockets, and the whole is finished off with a strip of
rhinoceros horn bent into the form of a hook. It is a curious
fact that in Africa it is only the men who adopt these fantastic
methods of hairdressing. The women generally go shaven.
Civilisation evidently counts for something. This curious
head-dress (sioHp) is said to be derived originally from the
Karemojo. I do not think it is necessary, however, to go
further back than the Turkana. The tiny stool which the
Suk carry is also derived from the Turkana. The sight of
six feet of savagery carrying about a stool six inches in
height certainly seems ridiculous until it dawns on one that
the stool is not to sit upon, but is a neck rest to prevent
the destruction of the elaborate coiffure when its owner lies
down.

The Suk also have two teeth extracted from the lower jaw,
but, in addition, the dimple of the lower lip is pierced for
the insertion of a ring, a nail, a leaf or a pendant of glass
or polished stone. They wear simple ear-rings of brass or
iron wire, but the lobes of the ears are not distended in the
ridiculous fashion affected by the Masai and Kikuyu.

The clothing of both sexes was, until recently, entirely
of skms, but the ubiquitous " merikani " has fomid its way
into favour. Women wear a kind of apron ; men are naked
save for the kalacha, a kind of V-shaped cape, hanging to the
knees behind, but scarcely covering the chest in front. All
wear necklets of iron wire and some affect anklets of bells.
Sandals of hide are worn by both sexes.

The Suk are partly pastoral, partly agricultural. The
latter live in huts made of a few sticks plastered with mud
and cow-dung and with a roofing of grass. The pastoral
section, being nomads, take less trouble still, their simple
shelters contrasting strongly with the elaborate huts of the
Masai. Only married men build shelters at all, the bachelors
sleeping in the open and the unmarried girls in a common
hut. A married man builds a separate hut for each wife.

Unlike the Masai, the Suk are grain eaters, their great
dish being a kind of porridge made from millet. A curious
rule forbids taking both meat and milk on the same day. A
person who has the temerity to chew raw millet must abstain

266

Suk Chii'f-. witli EIal)()rate Head-dress.

^\

J

NiitivcN ;it Niikuiii Show.

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

from milk for a week. Blood is drawn from living cattle as
among the Masai. White ants are a great delicacy. The
women feed apart from the men, as the result of a curious
superstition that a man touching anything which has been in
contact with a woman at her periods will lose his virility.
For the same reason, no man will ever touch a woman's clothes.
A quaint habit common to the Suk, Turkana, Nandi, Masai
and many of the Nile tribes is that of standing on one leg
with the upraised foot resting on the inside of the thigh.

The Suk have many cattle, and are accustomed to twist
their horns into curious shapes, a favourite fancy being to
have one horn pointing forward and the other backward.

The tribe is very fond of dancing, and has many curious
dances. The chief of these is a war dance. The warriors
group into a ring. An old chief in the centre strikes up a
kind of chant, and the ring punctuates every phrase by
bowing low and chanting in chorus. At the conclusion they
join hands and rush round in a circle, stamping their feet in
rhythm. Then they break out of the circle and each imitates
the movements and cry of some animal. This imitation is
carried to a fine art. They gradually work up into a state of
wild excitement ; warriors brandish their spears and shout
their war cry, women outside the circle urge them on with
wild shrieks, and the sound of a wooden trumpet with a deep
thrilling note adds to the tumult and aids in working up the
desired frenzy. Generally the whole thing ends in a nameless
orgy.

The habit of " spitting for luck " is very extensively
practised at the birth of a child, its naming, its circumcision
and any event of importance. Probably it is a relic of some
religious ceremony.

The Turkana have greater claims to be termed a race of
giants than the Suk. They are certainly tall, and appear
still taller by comparison with the Bantu tribes, which are
distinctly short. While, however, an exceptionally tall man
is met with now and again, the average is somewhat, though
perhaps not much, below six feet. Possibly the towering
head-dresses arc responsible for their reputation. Six feet
of negro surmounted by three to six inches of elaborate

267

AFTER BIG GAME

millinery certainly gives an impression of height. The
Turkana are fierce and warlike. They are nomads and have
great herds of cattle, sheep and goats. They also breed great
numbers of donkeys, and are famous for them everywhere.
These donkeys are said to defend themselves against lions
by forming a circle, heads inward, and kicking vigorously. I
regret to say I never saw them.

The Nandi are a pastoral and agricultural people, living
to the north of the Nandi escarpment. They also are ex-
ceedingly warlike, being allied more or less closely to the
Masai, Suk and Turkana. In spite of their common blood,
the Nandi are the hereditary enemies of the Masai, and have
not always come off second best when the two have met,
particularly when there has been cover available whence the
Nandi could deliver their poisoned arrows with effect, and
Masai battle formations were ineffective. But more than
any of the others, the Nandi are a mixed stock ; and it is
possible to find in their physical characteristics traces of not
only the Nilotic-Hamitic peoples, but also of the Bantus, and
even the Pygmies. In general appearance they resemble the
Masai ; but there are wide differences between individuals,
some being finely developed and intelligent, while others
approximate closely to the lowest type of humanity.

The Nandi is by custom nomadic and pastoral. But a
certain section, of late years, have taken to agriculture,
pursuing it fitfully and with more or less success. In the
beginning, the Nandi were probably great hunters, living
much after the fashion of the Wandorobo. They share many
habits of the Masai, such as blood-drinking, the circumcision
of boys and girls, the military organisation of the state and
the shaving of the head by the married women. They also
share their predatory tastes and their disinclination for
work. They do not, however, live in villages, but in
scattered family groups, each man having his own hut or
collection of huts built in the usual way from wattle, clay
and cow-dung. These are about four feet high and topped
with a conical grass roof. Each hut has two rooms, one for
the family and the other for the sheep and goats. A ceiling
about four feet from the ground provides a receptacle for

268

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

drying and storing grain, tobacco, etc. There is usually also
a special recess or compartment for storing milk. It is quite
dark, there is no ventilation, and it is, of course, quite im-
possible to stand upright.

The warriors sleep some ten in a hut, where the unmarried
girls may visit them, living with them freely for a week or
so at a time. They have also small huts in the woods, where
they retire at intervals to kill and eat oxen. Like the Masai,
the Nandi hoard their cattle and refuse to trade them. Un-
like the Masai, their food is largely vegetable, consisting of
grain — chiefly millet and eleusine, Avith fruit, vegetables and
milk. But they also eat meat under various curious re-
strictions. Game is greatly appreciated, a taste probably
acquired in the tribe's hunting days. Rats, locusts and ants
are esteemed delicacies. But no Nandi must taste the flesh
of water-buck, rhino, elephant, zebra or duiker imder penalty
of being unclean for four months and being debarred from
milk for that period. Honey is an important adjunct to the
diet, and is collected from the hives of the wild bees, either in
trees or in the honey barrels which the Nandi provide for
them. They are great drinkers, and produce wine from honey
and from the sap of the date-palm, and malt their grain to
make beer. Both sexes use tobacco freely.

As to dress, the small children go naked, boys wear a
goat-skin, girls an apron (osiek) made of hide cut into strips
and decorated with beads and cowries, and the women two
pieces of dressed leather. Both sexes are now adopting
" merikani." The ornaments are iron chains and bead neck-
laces, and great coils of wire for arms and legs. The lobes
of the ears are distended by huge wooden plugs. A married
woman's ear-rings are great coils of wire. The warriors wear
a goat-skin cloak decorated with beads, and adorn them-
selves with bracelets, armlets and necklaces of iron or bead
chains. In war time head-dresses of ostrich feathers, lions'
manes, or ox-hides with the horns attached, are worn to
produce a ferocious effect. Their hair is plaited into short
tails, which hang over their foreheads, and behind it is mixed
with wool and woven into a thick pigtail. The boys twist
theirs into rouml knobs with a seed as nucleus. The

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AFTER BIG GAME

women shave their heads once a month. The hair is plucked
fi'om every other part of the body. There is the usual
superstitious and disgusting use of spitting. As to morals,
the Nandi women are notorious even in Africa.

Unlike the Masai, the Nandi have a distinct tendency
towards the useful arts. Their smith-work is very good and
their pottery by no means to be despised. There is also
a tendency towards interest in agriculture ; and this, with
their fondness for cattle, sheep and goats, may, in course of
time, make them an industrious people and a source of
native labour.

The Kavirondo are remarkable in that the majority wear
absolutely no clothing. They have the reputation of being
the most moral of the native races. This is not necessarily
saying very much, and I am bound to say that I have seen
nothing to justif}^ it. My own opinion is that sexual morality
is a thing that does not exist in Africa. The native is simply
non-moral, and sees no harm whatever in such indulgence.
Among the Kavirondo both sexes drink to excess, smoke
continually — even the women being rarely \\dthout a pipe
in their mouths — and are not particularly cleanly in their
habits and surroundings. A reason which is sometimes given
for the refusal to wear clothes is a superstition that a woman
who wears a wrap around the loins will be childless. A
matron, however, may wear a short, fringed apron, and a
wife dons a sort of tassel, like a tail, which she wears behind.
Immense importance attaches to this tail. No man, not
even the husband, may touch it. If he does so, it is an
offence only to be purged by the sacrifice of a goat. If a
woman leaves home without her tail and enters a neighbour's
hut, that is unclean until a sacrifice has been offered.

One curious custom in vogue is that of scarification. The
women make vertical cuts upon the forehead to propitiate
Fate, and with the same intention scratch elaborate patterns
on the abdomen. Into the cuts they rub the juice of some
plant which has the effect of making the skin swell up into
a thick permanent scar. When a husband starts off for a
fight, he usually cuts a few marks of this kind on his wife's
body " for luck." The men display lines of tiny scars pro-

270

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

duced by thrusting a needle under the skin and snipping off
the raised portion. This is done when an enemy is slain in
battle, the first record being made on the right arm, the
second on the shoulder, the third on the chest, and so on.
When the husband is covered the register is continued on
his wife.

As a set-off against the nakedness of the body, the men
adopt an amazingly elaborate head-dress. Circlets made of
tusks of hippopotami, ostrich feathers, birds' tails, horns,
skins and basket work are all utilised in the construction of a
fantastic edifice which may be three or four feet in height.
They also make great beehive-shaped hats of wicker daubed
with clay and trimmed with feathers, fur and horns.

The Kavirondo are highly industrious ; the men cultivate
the ground, herd cattle, are great fishermen and expert
workers. As a result, the Kavirondo man is of finer physique
than the Kikuyu and a better fellow altogether. The women
are very expert at basket work. An example is furnished
by the quail cages that form a feature of every Kavirondo
village. These cages, each containing a single quail, are
hung at intervals from a long pole set slanting in the ground
at the entrance to the village. There may be a score on each
pole, which looks like the stem of a huge foxglove with its
pendent buds. The birds in the cages act as decoys to the
wild quails, which when they approach are caught in snares
hidden all round the foot of the poles.

There is a curious Kavirondo custom connected with quails.
When a child is born, the parents, together with the local
medicine man, fix on a name for it. Then a live quail is
hung to the door post by a hook passing through a flap of its
flesh. If the bird is dead the next morning, a new name
must be chosen. If it is alive, the name stands and the quail
is roasted alive and eaten.

The fish traps consist of two stone walls set at an angle.
Fish coming down the river enter the broad end and crowd
towards the narrow one. Here are set great conical fish
baskets in which the fish are taken. In the lake the Kavi-
rondo use nets of plaited reeds and papjTus stems. These
are weighted at the bottom and have floats at the top, so

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AFTER BIG GAME

that the nets when in position hang in the water like walls.
The ends of each net are brought together, enclosing any
fish there may be, and the whole net is dragged ashore.

The Kavirondo bury their dead in their own huts, which
are thenceforth unused. A chief is buried with his head just
above the floor-level. The head is covered with an earthen-
ware jar, and some of the dead man's wives watch in the hut
until the ants have cleaned the flesh from the bones of the
skull. Then the skeleton is dug up and buried outside.

The villages are surrounded by Avails of mud or stone, a
relic of the Nandi raids. These at one time kept the popula-
tion down, but under the peace of British rule, the Kavirondo
is increasing with great rapidity ; and as he has been de-
scribed as the best labourer in Africa, is peaceful, industrious
and easily disciplined, the tribe may play an important part
in the future.

The Wa-Kikuyu is one of the inost important of East
African peoples, not because of any moral or physical superi-
ority, but because of their number and adaptability, as well
as because, being an agricultural people, they are likely to
be able to assist in the field work essential to the develop-
ment of the country. Their home stretches north of Nairobi
to Nyeri, a district bounded on the west by the Aberdare
Range and on the east by Kenia.

In point of physique they fall considcrabl}^ below the
Kavirondo or the Masai, the men averaging perhaps 5 feet
4 inches. The women are better developed than the men,
probably because all the manual labour falls to their lot.
A woman will carry on her back, with the assistance of her
head strap, a load of 100 lb. with ease ; and she has been
known to carry twice this amount. The men will grumble
if asked to carry more than 60 lb., which is the regulation
safari burden. In appearance this people is not unpleasing.
The women often have good faces and beautiful eyes. They
would be prettier, but for the shaven forehead they affect
in order to facilitate the carrying of the load. Their figures,
however, suffer greatly from continual bending forward
under heavy burdens, and their gait tends to become a
shambling trot instead of the free, graceful carriage which

272

A K;ivi]()]iclo Mother

'WS^^^BS^f^^^

KilsiivM Niitivcs.

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

is natural to savage peoples. Neither of these defects, how-
ever, affects their matrimonial value. In this market the
Kikuyu standard is : " How much can she carry ? " One of
the sights of Nairobi which always strikes a European un-
pleasantly is the long files of Kikuyu women, bent almost
double under their burdens, who march daily into the town
with supplies of firewood and agricultural produce. They
seem just beasts of burden.

The better-class men do no work. They are warriors, and
ape the Masai in dress, arms, habits and food. Thus, they
drink blood, but they mix it with milk. They use great ear-
plugs, stretching the lobes to breaking point. They have
adopted circumcision. They knock out the two front teeth
of the lower jaw, and they stand in the characteristic one-
legged position of the Nilotic tribes. The Kikuyu is by
no means as warlike as his appearance would imply. In-
deed, his courage is often in inverse ratio to his equipment.
Only the fact that they originally dwelt among dense forests
has saved the tribe from annihilation at the hands of the
Masai.

Under the Pax Britannica he has come out of his forest
fastnesses, cleared his land and taken to agriculture. He is a
capital farmer and cultivates his maize, millet, beans, yams,
bananas and tobacco with skill and success. He will, un-
doubtedly, be a useful factor in the development of the
country, the more so as the tribe, already the largest of the
East African races, is increasing with great rapidity.

As to clothing, the young warrior is a replica of the Masai
Ol-muran. The men who work in the fields arc stark naked,
save for a bunch of grass tucked into a belt of string or beads.
Women wear a kind of petticoat, open down the side, and a
square of material used shawl-wise, presumably for protec-
tion, for it is certainly not for concealment. Both sexes
load the ears with weighty ornaments, outdoing the Masai
in this respect. In addition to the huge lobe ornament, rings
of beads and short sticks arc stuck through the top part of
the ear. Married women wear bangles of beads or wire
hanging from the cars, twenty or more to each. Old women
wear numbers of wire rings in the same way. These, once
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AFTER BIG GAME

inserted, are never removed during life. A marriageable girl
wears a band of beads across the forehead and often a kind
of head-dress of beads and shells. Both sexes smear the body
with a mixture of grease and red clay, so that at a distance
they appear not unlike statues of bronze. They are great
snuff takers, the snuff-box being generally a goat's horn, or
a gourd, or possibly an empty cartridge case.

They are by no means temperate, and make their wine
from honey and crushed sugar-cane. The Kikuyu honey
barrels, or artificial hives for wild bees, are to be seen among
the trees near every village.

The Wa-Kikuyu are great dancers, and will start on Ngoma
at the slightest provocation. A visitor to a Kikuyu kraal is
almost sure to see a dance got up for his special benefit,
probably with an eye to largess. Some of the dances are
quaint and interesting, having evidently some forgotten
religious or ceremonial significance. Others, like most African
dances, have few distinguishing features apart from their
suggestiveness, and the licentious orgies into which they
usually degenerate.

As a rule white men in Africa do not look on the Wa-Kikuyu
with too favourable an eye. They are said to be cruel and
cunning, lazy, thievish and inveterate liars, and only sober
when no drink is obtainable. As for morals, the Kikuyu has
none. But he is amenable to authority, and under a firm
hand the worst of his traits may be repressed if not eradicated.
His merits — to wit, his docility, intelligence, cheerfulness
and his undoubted bent for agriculture — make him a person
to be taken into careful consideration by all interested in
the future of the Protectorate.

With the Kikuyu, in Ukamba, are the Wakamba. They
are a fiercer and more warlike race, and their habit of filing
their teeth adds to the ferocity of their appearance and has
given rise to the rumour that they are cannibals. They
certainly are not so now, whatever they may have been in
the past. Like most of the other tribes, they are exceedingly
superstitious. Witchcraft is an article of faith with them,
and a secret society for the " smelling out " of witches existed
until quite recently. The Wakamba were usually at war

274

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

with one or all of their neighbours. Now, however, they are
settling down as peaceful farmers and cattle breeders, and
as they number from 200,000 to 300,000, are fairly intelligent
and easily disciplined, thej^ are likely to be brought into line
without great trouble. They are by no means attractive
either in appearance or in morals.

Wandorobo is the Swahili name for the people who call
themselves Ogiek. Their Masai name is Torobo {i.e. they are
the Wa-Torobo). They claim to be of the same stock as the
Masai, but to have taken to hunting instead of herding. It
is much more likely that they were driven into the forest by
some Masai raid. They are now as near an approach to
primitive man as Africa can supply. They are of low intelli-
gence and mean physique, but they are great hunters, and
fearless. Their usual weapon is the bow and poisoned arrow,
but they are skilful in making traps. Small game is noosed,
larger game is caught in pits just big enough for the animal
to fall into. These pits get narrower toward the bottom,
so that the captive sticks half-way, and as its feet are off the
bottom, cannot spring upward. It is killed by spearing.
Big animals are caught in larger pits with a poisoned stake
in the centre, on which the capture is impaled. Special pits
are dug for elephant. These are six to eight feet long, three
feet wide and about ten feet deep. The idea is to get the
elephant's forelegs into the narrow trench, when he will be
helpless. There are so many of these about that they con-
stitute a real danger. If they are open they arc obvious
enough, but if covered they are hidden so artfully that only
a Wandorobo can detect them. But the Wandorobo do not
fear to attack the elephant openly with their spears. These
have a heavy head, with a poisoned dart inserted into a
socket. This is driven into the animal and remains sticking
in the flesh. Another dart is then inserted in the socket
and the attack renewed.

The Wandorobo do not as a rule live in villages, but
wander through the forests in small parties, living in holes,
caves, trees or shelters made of skins and leaves. One
evidence of a former higher civilisation is the fact that they
make their own arrow and spear heads, smelting the iron

275

AFTER BIG GAME

themselves and working it with hammer, tongs, anvil and
bellows, all of quaint and primitive type. Much of the smith
work for the Masai tribes is done by the Wandorobo. Their
fire is obtained by means of the fire-stick and drill, with
which an expert native will get a blaze in about half-a-minute.
The poison used in the arrows is obtained by boiling chips
of wood and bark of a certain tree {Akokanthera sdriiifperi),
and evaporating the decoction to leave a pitch-like residue.
It is very powerful and rapid in its action, and a scratch from
a poisoned arrow is generally fatal.

They live entirely on the game they kill, drinking the
blood and eating the raw meat. The end of a lump of meat
is put into the mouth and cut off close to the lips with
a hunting knife. In drinking, alone among the African
peoples, they go on all-fours and lap up the water. Other
tribes either make a cup of the two hands or, scooping up
the water in the right, throw it into the opened mouth.
The porters on safari adopt the latter method. The
Wandorobo are a quaint, wild race, with narrow, retreating
foreheads, projecting jaws and chin, and wide flat noses.
There is so much of the animal about the Wandorobo that
one can hardly treat him as a human being. His eyes are
big, brown and wistful, just like a dog's. He is a wonderful
tracker, with an amazing bump of locality. He will follow
a twisting, winding trail through the forest for hours, and
then strike an absolute bee-line for camp. He must have an
additional sense.

There remain the Coast tribes — namely, the Swahili and
the Somali. The former I have dealt with incidentally
throughout the book. He is a cross between the Arab and
one of the African Coast peoples. In appearance he may
favour either type. The Swahili is cheerful, willing, fairly
honest as far as his immediate employer is concerned, in-
telligent and clean ; consequently his odour is not so pro-
nounced as that of the up-country native. He is lazy
enough as a rule, but will work well when the fit takes him.
I am bound to say that in an emergency it usually does take
him, and then he can be relied on to do excellent work.

On the other hand, he gets drunk as often as he finds

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SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

occasion. He brews his own "tembo," but has no obvious
objection to European drinks. His morals are those of
Africa. He is not a great agriculturist, although some of
the Coast shambas are well cultivated. But he makes a
capital servant and a keen trader. He is a good porter on
safari, willmg and jolly, and capable of considerable exertion
on his master's behalf during the day and for his own pleasure
on Ngoma at night. He is no coward, but can hardly be
classed as a first-class fighting man. One point deserves
special notice. His language has become the common
speech of East Africa, and will no doubt continue to be used
there.

The Somali is the trader of the native tribes, and his
keenness in bargaining has made him no general favourite.
He trades with the natives for cattle and is by no means
scrupulous as to his methods, or generous with his prices.
He buys for a song, and sells at a profit which would turn
Shylock green with envy. He is probably descended in a
direct line from Jacob. But in the course of his business
he endures uncomplainingly unheard-of fatigue, and faces
any dangers. When he comes into contact with civilisation
it is usually as a gun-bearer, syce or headman, or in some
occupation of a superior type.

In appearance the Somali is one of the finest and most
intelligent-looking of the African races. He is perfectly
aware of it and has the highest opinion of himself. He m-
variably looks down on all the other races, and this habit,
as he is naturally quarrelsome, often leads to trouble on
safari. As a gun-bearer he has his points. He is cool,
resourceful and reliable. On the other hand he is little
good as a hunter or tracker, and his rapacity is phenomenal.
No "daughter of the horseleech" could ever equal the
Somali in crying : " Give ! Give ! "

There is a Somali village just outside Nairobi which has
its club, on the European model, where the Uite are waited
upon by servants of the inferior tribes. His opinion of the
white man need not be guessed. He docs not attempt to
conceal it, and will tell it you quite frankly and naturally.
It is not flattering.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Among the coloured inhabitants of East Africa one must
not forget the Indians, who are hkely to present the Govern-
ment with as tickhsh a problem as any of the native races.
The plain fact is that both settlers and officials look upon
the Indian in the light of an unmitigated nuisance, and
would willingly dispense with his presence altogether. Of
course, this view will not commend itself to those people at
home who hold the popular view of the mild Hindu. To
them, he is an amiable and obliging person, almost painfully
polite but perfectly harmless. He is not particularly reliable
in emergency, being apt to show himself rather helpless, not
to say cowardly, and he is given to quaint turns of expression
and redundancies of speech that are quite amusing. But
on the whole he is fairly industrious, not too flagrantly dis-
honest and certainly well-meaning, and so deserving of
consideration. Further, he is a fellow- subject of the Empire.
And as he has now been educated on the European model,
there is no reason why he should not be given a vote, proceed
to govern himself and be esteemed a full-blown British
citizen and the equal of anybody. That there exist Indians
of this type is possible. If so, they will probably become a
nuisance in their own place and time. But politics and the
vote, and " equal rights for all British subjects " are not the
trouble in East Africa. The Indian there is for the most
part drawn from the off-scourings of the population, and the
objection to him is not because he is an Indian, but because
he is a very bad type of Indian. The Uganda Railway is
responsible for his presence. Some twenty or thirty thousand
coolies were brought over to assist in its construction. They
found the land one where they could live with ease ; they
stayed, sent for their friends and relatives, and started to
make money. To that, of course, there is no possible objec-
tion. White men who go to British East Africa go to make
money also. As long as the Indian restricts himself to
legitimate trading he fulfils a useful purpose. The Indian
store is the only shop in outlying stations, so distant from
civilisation and with so few possibilities of trade that no
white man would settle there or could make a living if he
did. So far, so good. And there are other Indians, such

278

SOME RACES AND CUSTOMS

as merchants, traders, officials and others, who are highly
estimable persons and to whose conduct no possible excep-
tion can be taken.

But having made these reservations, one is compelled to
say that, taken on the whole, the Indian population of East
Africa is distinctly objectionable, as regards habits, person-
ality and methods of business. His one aun is to make
money as rapidly as possible, by whatever methods he can
and at whatever cost to himself or to other people. And
when an Indian starts at that business, Shylock is a mild
saint in comparison. Ask any man who knows his India for
his opinion of the village bmmia. The white man who goes
to East Africa makes his money by developing the resources
of the country, and so creating wealth, and benefits not only
himself but the whole community. The Indian's idea is
to drain it of whatever wealth already exists. The white
man's gain remains in the country and is utilised in still
greater developments ; the Indian's is sent out of the country,
to India, to await his return. On this ground alone he is an
undesirable. A new country must not be drained. There is
likely to be trouble enough with finance, without that sort
of thing.

Nor is the Indian trader a fair competitor, either. He
can live on next to nothing — " the smell of an oil-rag " as
it is tersely put. A decent pig would refuse his food and
would hesitate to live in the hut he considers sufficient. In
this hovel he surrounds himself with filth to an extent that
makes him not only a nuisance but a danger to the com-
munity. He doesn't trouble to wash, and he doesn't change
his clothes ; he doesn't take the most ordinary sanitary
precautions. Consequently he becomes a centre of disease.
Typhoid and the plague were unknown in British East Africa
before his time. But a kindly Government, which makes
the possession of means a condition before admitting an
English settler, lets the Indian in free. It is obvious that
no one who desires to maintain the ordinary decencies of
life can hope to compete with him in business. His expenses
are too few.

Further, he is not a fair trader. He will sell at knock-out

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AFTER BIG GAME

prices to kill competition, while recouping himself by illicit
means. And here arises the great objection to his presence
in East Africa. The Indian usm-er is well known as the most
rapacious of his tribe, and here the Indian is the only money-
lender. But this unfortunately is not all. He it is who
keeps all the di'inking dens, runs the illicit stills, supplies the
native with abominable spirits, owns all the gambling hells
and brothels. He is the receiver of stolen goods, the pro-
curer of native girls. He is the centre of moral corruption
in the Protectorate. In addition, he is responsible for the
introduction of venereal disease, which is now ravaging
certain tribes, notably the Masai and the Kikuyu, to a
horrible extent.

No one has any objection to Indians as Indians. If a
body of Englishmen from the slums of London took up their
abode in East Africa and acted in the same way, the objection
to their presence would be just as strong and universal. The
better class of Indians take the same view, and hold aloof
from any association with this class. But it is perfectly
clear that their existence m the colony is an evil, and that
the sooner they are cleared out of the country the better for
it and for the Empire.

Of course there would be a public outcry. All the senti-
mentalists in the Empire would be up in arms at the idea of
forbidding British subjects to enter a British colony. I do
not envy the statesman who makes the proposal. But the
evil is there and will have to be met. On the one hand the
country is being drained of its capital ; on the other, there are
abuses which ought to be dealt with without mercy.

280

CHAPTER VII

Various Pests, Insect axd Otherwise

CoNSiDERixG its position, British East Africa must on the
whole be called healthy. Those scourges of the tropics,
yellow fever and cholera, are unknowTi. The plague, it is
true, is endemic in places, and now and again breaks out into
an epidemic as it did during our visit, when the number of
cases in the Coast area was 208, with a mortality of no less
than 88-46 per cent. Smallpox has in the past ravaged
whole areas, but that was before the days of British control,
and it may now be safely asserted that the disease is well
in hand. Spotted fever (cerebro-spinal meningitis) assumed
serious proportions in the same year, and was specially
severe in the Kenia province. The dreaded sleeping sick-
ness, which a few years ago depopulated a great part of
Uganda, has been robbed of much of its terror. Malaria
is still troublesome, particularly in the Kenia and Nyanza
provinces, where there were in li>13 no fewer than 3027
cases. Drainage, the spread of knowledge through educa-
tion, and the extended use of quinine, are gradually checking
its progress.

Two of the most serious of the diseases of British East
Africa are known to be carried by the bites of insects, and
it is more than suspected that there may be others. Apart
from actual diseases, however, there are many discomforts
and annoyances due to the same cause which, if they do not
actually endanger life, certainly add a great deal to its
burdens. The present chapter deals in more or less detail
with a number of such pests, some serious in their effects on
the health, others trivial but none the less annoying.

Mosquitoes, the first of the insects likely to intrude on the
new-comer's attention, are ubiquitous. On the coast and
in marshy districts they flourish exceedingly. But I do not

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AFTER BIG GAME

remember to have noticed their presence particularly in
Mombasa, and on the uplands they are scarcely to be seen
at all. At the best mosquitoes are very annoying, at the
worst a danger to the community ; and between the two,
what with their bite and their irritating buzz, an intolerable
nuisance. Fortunately they feed only at night, so that it is
possible to prepare for their coming by a judicious use of
mosquito nets, boots and curtains. The mosquito has one
point in common with the Masai — it is a blood-drinker. It
differs from the Masai in that it is the female alone that is
addicted to the practice, the male being a strict vegetarian.
The weapons of offence are delicate piercing styles, which
are contained in the proboscis and are driven beneath the
victim's skin. The danger lies, not in the puncture, but in
the fact that the mosquito may introduce into the blood
of the sufferer the germ of malaria, which it may have
acquired by biting a previous victim infected with the
disease. Since this has been recognised, much has been done
by way of draining swamps and clearing away rubbish such
as tins, bottles, pots, etc., which hold water and so form
breeding places for the mosquitoes, to destroy the mosquito
breeding grounds. One possible consequence of neglected
malaria is blackwater fever. This, so called from the colour
of the patient's urine, is a dangerous disease, but is fortun-
ately not a very common one. The cause is so far unknown,
but it is certain that a preceding attack of malaria is one of
the predisposing factors.

The ticks, to which I have already alluded as a nuisance,
are something more than that. Tick fever is a well-known
complaint and a serious one. It has within recent years been
shown to be the work of a tiny parasite, known as a spiro-
chgeta, which the tick introduces into the blood of its un-
willing host. Then there are symptoms of high fever, pains
in the body and limbs, and severe vomiting. Few people
die of tick fever, but that does not make it any the
pleasanter. Very often the patient suffers relapse after
relapse before he can finally shake off the effects of the
trouble.

Among cattle, red-water and East Coast fever are due

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VARIOUS PESTS, INSECT AND OTHERWISE

to a parasite transmitted through the bite of a tick. The
former is very widely spread not only throughout Africa
but also through America, China and India, and occurs even
in the British Isles. The microscope shows the presence of a
parasite which attacks the red corpuscles of the blood and
destroys them. The red colouring matter, thus set free,
gets into the urine, giving it the characterstic colour from
which the disease gets its name. Up to the present, no
treatment has been found to be of any use. The parasite
causing the trouble is carried from a diseased animal to a
sound one by the ordinary blue tick. East Coast fever is
the work of the brown tick, which also introduces a parasite
into the blood. Its exact action there is still somewhat
obscure, but its effects are terrible. Many thousands of
animals die annually from the complaint, from 70 to 80 per
cent, of those attacked failing to recover. The methods
adopted to prevent its spread include dipping to destroy the
ticks, and inoculating with a special serum which is claimed
to contain the antitoxin required to check the ravages of
the germ. The results obtained by this last method are as
yet insufficient to enable one to form a definite opinion as
to its value. A similar treatment introduced by Dr Koch in
the case of rinderpest has, it is claimed, worked wonders.
During the last two years the disease has been rife all over
the Uasin Gishu plateau with a death rate of only five per
cent., whereas the Nandi, in this period alone, lost from
30,000 to 35,000 of their cattle.

Ticks are of various sizes. The newly hatched larva is
the merest speck, while the full-fed adult is of the size of a
pea. The common one is about as big as an ordinary bed
bug and is much the same shape. The traveller who wishes
to acquire specimens can readily do so in any old shed or
rest-house, or on any old camping ground.

The jigger is a South American flea. The native name is
" chigoe," but science knows it as Dermatophilns penetrans.
In travellers' talcs the jigger seems rather an interesting
little nuisance. In reality it is a veritable plague. A native
regiment has, before now, been reduced to half its effectives,
the remainder being put hors de combat by this pest. More

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AFTER BIG GAME

than once a tribe has been half starved because its jigger-
crippled population was unable even to go into the fields
to gather the necessary bananas. It was not uncommon for
a negro to lose a foot from the extensive ulceration set up
by the attacks of the jigger. Even now toes are not in-
frequently lost from the same cause. WhUe the foot is the
part usually attacked, the jigger will invade the skin of the
knees, elbows, shoulders, back or any other suitable locality
— all parts, in fact, which come in contact with the ground.
Here again it is the female that causes all the trouble. She
burrows beneath the skin, leaving only her hind end sticking
out like a tiny black dot. On a black skin it cannot be seen
at all. There is no pain at first. After a couple of days,
however, one notices a slight irritation. In five or six days
the abdomen of the jigger, containing the eggs, has become
swollen to the size of a small pea and the pain becomes acute.
When the jigger has found its favourite spot underneath
the big toe nail the anguish is unbearable. For the first
two or three days, the pest can be extracted with a pin,
and the native boys are very skilful in doing this. But
after this it takes something like a surgical operation to get
the jigger out without breaking it. If it is left in, there is
severe ulceration, and the wounds thus produced are exceed-
ingly obstinate to heal. The embedded female jigger passes
out eggs from the dark hind end, and these hatch out in
the sand or dust into small active fleas. After this the
female burrows into the skin of the first person handy. It
is very difficult to avoid the attacks of the fleas. The native
boys bring them into the houses, so that it is never wise to
go about barefooted.

The ants form another of the pests of Africa. Chief
among these are the termites, generally called " white ants,"
presumably because they are not ants and are not white.
These breed by millions. A single female will lay some
30,000,000 eggs, turning them out at the rate of 60,000 or
so a day. The abdomen of the queen ant, when distended
with eggs, looks about the size of a good big potato. As may
be imagined, a fat pallid grub of these dimensions is a rather
repulsive object. It is as well to kill her at sight, and so

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VARIOUS PESTS, INSECT AND OTHERWISE

dispose of a potential swarm at once. The termites build
great conical anthills, the middle cone being surrounded by
subsidiary ones. Others, and these are the household pests,
eat their way through almost anything. Wood is a favourite
article of diet. Furniture in houses has to be carefully pro-
tected against their depredations, the legs of chairs and
tables being placed in saucers or jars of water. Boots,
shoes and clothes left on the floor are destroyed in a single
night. In the case of wood a thin external shell of the
object destroyed is allowed to remain. This, of course,
collapses when touched, sometimes with amusing and
embarrassing effect.

The natives consider the " white ant " a great dainty.
One may often see a negro picking his dinner out of an ant-
hill, which he just covers with a mat and then drives a hole
in it. As the ants fly out they knock against the mat and
are captured, and are either devoured on the spot or pre-
served for cooking.

There are also the biting Siafu ants, which march in
great armies and can only be turned aside by strewing a
barrier of red-hot cinders in their path. These, with many
other kinds, often come marching into the house and swarm
across the floor. The hills built by the termites are of all
shapes and sizes, from tiny mounds to great chimneys,
16 to 20 feet in height. The latter are hollow and have a
number of wdde passages, communicating with a regular
network of tunnels underground. The tall chimney- like
anthills are sometimes used by hunters, travellers and others,
as ovens in which to bake their bread.

The flies are among the worst of the African pests. Even
the harmless ones are terrible nuisances. They swarm over
one's food and person until the disgust caused by the fouling
of the food, the irritation set up by their crawling over the
skin and the interminable buzzing become well-nigh in-
tolerable. Some, too, bite with frequency and severity, and
the wounds thus produced inflame so acutely that the
itching becomes inaddciiing. Unfortunately, the flies of
Africa are by no means all of this comparatively harmless
sort. Certain of them, indeed, have earned a world-wide

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AFTER BIG GAME

notoriety as carriers of disease. The mosquito and the
tsetse fly are well known in this connection, but there are
probably others which are at present only suspected, and
have yet to be convicted by the patient methods known to
medical science.

These are of many kinds, and vary in size from the tiny
midges scarcely distinguishable as specks in the air to hand-
some or repulsive creatures of an inch or more in length.
Some among them batten on garbage ; others, distinguished
by such significant names as Haematopota and Phlebotonms,
are out for blood ; and as these species are armed with a
useful weapon in the shape of styles hidden in the proboscis,
and sometimes an inch or more in length, they generally
succeed in getting it. Often the bush is alive with these
flies ; and when this is the case, animals, and particularly
domestic cattle, are molested to such an extent that they give
up all attempt at grazing and simply concern themselves
with getting rid of their tormentors. It need hardly be
said that this does not improve their condition or increase
their chances of fattening. It may be added, as a further
contribution to the sex question, that the blood sucker is
generally the female, the gentle male passing his harmless
days in extracting nectar from the flowers.

Among the worst offenders are the sand-flies. There are
several varieties of them. Their approach is noiseless, the
first intimation of their presence being as a rule a puncture
which feels like half-an-inch of red-hot needle being driven
into the back of one's neck. These sand-flies can find their
way through most mosquito curtains, and are uncannily
expert in getting underneath the bedclothes as well. Their
bite raises an eruption which is horribly irritating and does
not subside for days. One particularly ferocious variety is
known to the native as the " Jinja fly " and to the scientist
as Simulium damnosum. One suspects its discoverer of
having given this name in a moment of pardonable annoyance.

This variety swarms in myriads to the north of Victoria
Nyanza around Jinja, and is such a plague that the natives
actually flee in terror before its approach. It is a small fly,
only one-eighth of an inch long, but what it lacks in size it

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makes up in bite. A man or a beast well bitten by the Jinja
literally streams with blood. Native porters always cross
the Jinja belt at the double, and are careful to provide them-
selves with a leafy branch to use as a fly swish. These flies
will follow their victim for miles. The sand-flies, however, are
not the worst. That bad eminence is reserved for the species
appropriately termed the " blood-drinkers." These are
of various kinds ; but as this is not a scientific treatise, I
shall make no attempt to specify them. Unfortunately, as
I have said, the damage done by these pests is not confined
to the loss of blood or to the pain of the wound. Certain
of them not only suck the victim's blood, but introduce into
it the germ of some dangerous disease. Of these the dreaded
tsetse fly is the worst.

The " fly disease," as it affected cattle, has been known
for a long time. As its name implies, it was early traced to
the fly, and trekkers and farmers took care to avoid the fly
country. So did travellers, unless their horses or oxen had
been " salted " — that is, rendered immune as the result of
a previous attack. The fly that did the damage was well
known. What was not known was why the bite should cause
such terrible effects. The cattle affected by it became
emaciated, flabby as to muscle, and finally died, staggering
and blind. The obvious explanation was that the bite of
the fly was poisonous, and this was the one generally
accepted.

Major (now Sir David) Bruce, who was sent out from
home to investigate the question, found that the cause was
not a poisonous bite but the introduction into the blood of
the victim" of a minute parasite which multiplied in its new
surroundings with tremendous rapidity, and produced in the
animal the characteristic symptoms of the disease. These
microscopic parasites are known as trypanosomes, from two
Greek words, trypanon (borer) and soma (body). These tiny
bodies can be seen quite easily under a high power of the
microscope, wriggling about with a curious screw-like motion.
Once it became clear that the fly was the agent that intro-
duced the trypanosome into the blood, the question arose :
" Where did the fly itself get it in the first place ? " That

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question a number of scientific men from various countries
went specially to Africa to settle.

The flies inhabit definite areas well known to dwellers
in Africa, who are particularly careful to avoid them. If
a stranger travelling through the country should happen to
strike one of these areas he speedily becomes aware of the
fact. His horses begin to kick, his dogs to bite round at
themselves, and his native porters to slap their legs.
Curiously enough, certain kinds of game, such as buffalo,
kudu and water-buck were always found associated with the
fly country. The obvious inference was that these animals
were the hosts of the trypanosomes, and that the flies in
biting them acquired the parasites which they afterwards
transferred to the blood of other victims of their bite. The
fact that the wild game itself did not seem to be at all
affected by the presence of the trypanosomes in their blood
was explained by assuming that they had been exposed to
the infection for so long a period as to acquire immunity
from the disease, a perfectly well known phenomenon in
similar cases.

Up to this point I have dealt only with the fly as producing
sickness in animals. Sleeping sickness has been known
among negroes for more than a hundred years. It existed
chiefly in places along the west coast, which were never free
from it, although the disease never assumed the proportions
of a plague. But suddenly it made its appearance in the
Congo. There it became an epidemic and swept over the
country with terrible force, carrying all before it. Then it
appeared in Uganda, and it is said that 200,000 out of a
total population of 300,000 died from its ravages. Naturally,
so terrible a visitation attracted world-wide attention.
Scientists from all over the world proceeded to Uganda to
investigate the causes of the disease and to attempt to find
a remedy. Dr Castellani, studying the question on the
spot at Entebbe, found trypanosomes in the blood of several
cases suffering from sleeping sickness. Colonel Bruce, who
had also been sent out, was immediately struck with the
significance of this fact as indicating a relationship between
this disease and the fly sickness of cattle. At his instance

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a long series of investigations was made, and microscopic
tests showed that the trypanosomes existed in the blood of
every patient.

Starting from this, it was not long before it was established
that the complaint which had been knoAvn as trypanosome
fever was really an early stage of the sleeping sickness, and
that the characteristic and dreaded symptoms of the latter
were shown only at a later stage. Then the trypanosomes
were found not only in the patient's blood but also in the
fluid contained in the cerebro-spinal canal. At this stage
the case was hopeless.

As soon as the similarity between the disease and the fly
sickness was noticed, the fly [Glossina morsitans) responsible
for the latter was looked for. It was not to be found in the
sleeping sickness area. But another tsetse fly, Glossina
palpalis, was discovered to be very common, particularly
round the shores of the lake, in the districts where the
disease had been most prevalent. Many thousands of these
were captured for experimental purposes, and the places
where they had been found were noted. These districts
were invariably those affected by the sickness. On the
other hand, districts which had no flies had no record of the
disease. It was a case of " No fly, no sickness." Experi-
ments on monkeys showed that these flies could transfer
the trypanosomes from a sick to a healthy specimen and
that the wild flies were also infective. In this way the
connection between the sleeping sickness and the variety of
tsetse fly known as Glossina palpalis was made clear. The
culprit is just an ordinary-looking blackish fly, only a little
larger than the common house fly. The cattle fly, Glossina
morsitans, is brown. Both, when at rest, fold their wings
over their backs like the blades of a pair of scissors. The
name " tsetse " comes from the peculiar buzz they make
when alighting. Black seems to appeal to them more than
white, and they show a distinct preference for the native
rather than for the European. It may be a question of
flavour ; but on the other luuid, if a white man wears a
black coat they will alight on it freely. When really hungry,
the tsetse fly is a glutton and literally gorges itself. One

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may actually sec it swelling up with the blood it is extracting
from its victim. The tsetse fly is peculiar in that both
sexes are equally bloodthirsty, and not the female only, as
is more usual among the blood-sucking tribes. It is an
" early bird," and carries on its nefarious traffic chiefly in
the morning. During the heat of the day its activities
decline, and cease altogether in the evening. It is easy to
understand, in face of this fact, that in certain parts of
Africa most of the travelling is done at night. Though the
species (Glossina palpalis) responsible for the Uganda variety
of the sleeping sickness is not found in other parts of the
country, the disease itself is. The trouble in this case is
mainly due to the cattle fly, which is a fierce biter and divides
its attentions between the beasts and their masters. There
is not the slightest doubt that it does bite human beings,
and experiments in the laboratory have clearly demonstrated
that it carries the trypanosomes which cause the disease.
Thus in Rhodesia it has been shown to carry the Trypanosoma
rhodesiense, a different one from the Uganda species, which
has been proved to be the cause of the sleeping sickness in
that country.

Measures of prevention and cure are beyond the scope of
these notes, but a brief statement of some of the results
which have been achieved may not be without interest.
The policy has been to withdraw the population as far as
possible from the infected areas. This was done in particular
with the people of the Sesse Archipelago and the northern
shores of Victoria Nyanza. In addition, all known cases are
isolated in segregation camps and hospitals, where the sick
receive all the attention at the command of modern science,
while they are prevented from assisting the spread of the
disease. It is highly important to prevent healthy people
from being bitten, but it is far more so to prevent a sick
person from being bitten and thus serving as a reservoir
from which the fly can draw trypanosomes. If the tsetse
fly can only bite healthy people it is just a harmless nuisance.
Unfortunately the native will not take precautions. Either
from fatalism or from utter inability to connect cause and
effect, he is perfectly careless of consequences.

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Other steps that have been taken are the clearing of the
banks of the lake and rivers of all rank water-side vegetation,
the deforestation of the infected areas and the planting of
certain crops, such as cotton, maize, ground nuts and others,
which the fly for some reason or other avoids. The cultiva-
tion of the soil will also do much in the way of destroying
larvic and pupae. The natives use fly-traps in the shape
of gourds full of blood, into which the flies swarm. When
the trap is full the opening is covered over. But this is not
a measure of hygiene. No one who knows the African
negro would ever accuse him of that. When he has gathered
sufficient flies, he takes away his trap and liberates his
prisoners near his enemy's cattle, in the hope that among
his catch there may be some capable of communicating the
disease. Still the method of capture might possibly be
adopted even though the subsequent proceedings were
omitted. As to the cure, there is unfortunately none. All
that can be done with any certainty is to retard the progress
of the disease. Various drugs have been tried, the most
successful so far being arsenic and antimony. More recently,
atoxyl, a compound of aniline, arsenic and sodium, has been
employed with such striking results that Dr Koch believed
that he had found in it a specific cure for the malady. Un-
fortunately, his hopes have proved fallacious and his con-
clusions premature. Mercury has been tried and so has
salvarsan, the remedy now being widely tried in the treatment
of syphilis. Experiments are also being made with the two
ferments trypsin and amylopsin, which give the pancreatic
juice its digestive powers. This, the " enzyme treatment,"
as it is called, is claimed to have been remarkably successful
in dealing with " surra," another form of trypanosomiasis,
which attacks horses, mules, cattle and camels on the
northern frontier of India and elsewhere.

It is far too early to pronounce with any degree of certainty
on the efficacy of any of these. All that can be said is that
the results arc encouraging. Now that the cause of the
disease is clearly understood, we may hope that an antitoxin
may be found to combat its ravages in the blood, and that
by a process of systematic inoculation, Africa may be

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rendered as immune from sleeping sickness as Panama now
is from malaria and as Bahia from "yellow Jack." There
is no doubt that many of the wild-game animals have acquired
almost absolute immunity as the result of previous ravages
among the herds. Some domestic cattle are protected by
a previous attack, and these "salted" cattle are keenly
sought after by travellers whose way lies through the fly
country. It seems abundantly clear that the experiments
which are being made, along recognised lines, will ultimately
provide a satisfactory method of inducing artificial immunity
and so settle the great "fly" question as it affects both
man and beast, and, in doing so, remove one of the greatest
disadvantages of settlement in Africa.

I may perhaps be permitted to recognise with admiration
the splendid work which has been and is being done by the
scientific and medical staff engaged upon this and similar
investigations. The story of what they have done, the
hardships endured, the dangers braved is a very fine story
indeed, and one of which they may well be proud.

The preventive measures to which I have already referred
are being carried through with a thoroughness and devotion
beyond all praise. Great districts have been cleared of
people and homes found for them elsewhere. Stretches of
the lake shore and of the swamp land have been stripped of
their vegetation, and schemes of deforestation and cultiva-
tion are already far advanced. Segregation camps and
hospitals have been established, where more than twenty
thousand patients are kept under observation and treatment.
And as a result of these measures the Government of Uganda
is able to say in its latest report that " Sleeping sickness is
now rare and the risk of infection outside the prohibited
areas in which the tsetse fly exists is practically negligible."

I have already remarked that in certain districts the wild
game seemed to harbour the trypanosomes of the fly sickness,
and among the more extreme measures suggested for the
limitation of the spread of the disease is the killing off of
all the wild game. If, of course, the continued existence
of the game could be proved to be a standing danger to
domestic cattle, there could, in the interests of the settlers,

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be only one possible course. But the most careful investiga-
tions have shown that the danger from this source has
apparently been greatly exaggerated, with the exception
of perhaps a few districts. As a matter of fact, game is not
as a rule particularly plentiful in the fly country, while the
flies often swarm in myriads where there is no game at all.
On the whole, so far as I have been able to make out, the
presence of game plays, in any case, only a minor part in
assisting the spread of either the sleeping sickness in man
or the fly sickness in beasts, since if the game were not there
the fly would find some other source from which to draw its
supply of blood, and so long as any infected human beings
or cattle remained to act as reservoirs the fly would continue
to act as carrier and the disease be maintained. At any
rate, the verdict as regards the game is, so far, one of " Not
proven," and I should consider it little short of a calamity
if the game were to be killed off wholesale on such evidence
as that which is at present adduced.

Professor Koch considered that the blood of the crocodile
was the staple diet of the tsetse fly in the Victoria Nyanza
district, and that the extermination of these brutes was a
necessary preliminary to the extermination of the disease.
This was subsequently proved to be an error. There is not
the slightest doubt, however, that the flies do feed on the
blood of crocodiles. One may see them doing it any day
on the shores of Victoria Nyanza. They also affect birds,
lizards, snakes and frogs, when they cannot get mammals.
Indeed, the stomachs of a great number that were examined
contained the blood of reptiles and birds only. The Uganda
variety of the fly is also known at times to feed upon cater-
pillars, a fact which may explain to some extent why it is
able to exist in places where no other form of animal life
is to be found.

One extremely curious and interesting phenomenon is
the swarming of the " kungu " fly upon the waters of the
lake. I have seen it stated that it is seen nowhere else than
on Lake Nyanza, but this is erroneous. One sees rising from
the surface of the water what appears to be a column of
smoke. It twists and gyrates into all manner of fantastic

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shapes, and then, on a nearer approach, resolves itself into a
cloud of gnats whirling in the air just as gnats and midges
do at home in their evening dances. Only these are in such
amazing numbers that they literally obscure the sky. When
at the close of their brief life they fall to earth they cover
the ground to the depth of several inches, and as they decay
the stench is appalling. The natives mix them into a paste
with grease and bake them into a cake. The word " kungu "
means mist.

In some parts of the country, particularly the sandy
wastes of the north, the scorpion is sufficiently in evidence
to be fairly included among the pests. In some districts it
is enough of a nuisance to make it a matter of considerable
urgency to overhaul the camping ground very carefully before
pitching the tents. Every stone or branch under v/hich a
scorpion might hide must be carefully turned over. In such
a place, too, all utensils and articles of furniture and clothing
which might provide a lurking place had better be examined
before use. There is an element of painful surprise in finding
one's slippers already occupied by a scorpion. Needless to
say, one does not go about with bare feet. But the jigger
would prevent that in any case.

One pest, depending rather on his repulsive appearance
and his loathsome smell than on his power to hurt, is the
cockroach. This is not by any means the common cock-
roach of our kitchens, but a far bigger and much uglier
species, of about three inches in length.

Snakes are fortunately few. I don't think I saw a dozen
during the whole time I was in the country. Some parts of
the uplands, indeed, seem so free from them that one might
imagine St Patrick had been there and repeated his famous
eviction ceremony. However, about forty species are known,
most of them small and harmless. As a rule the python,
which sometimes reaches a length of 23 feet, is harmless too,
so far as man is concerned. But among the poisonous
varieties are two of the deadliest known, the cobra and the
puff-adder. The cobras are known here as " mambas,"
but the snake called the green mamba, a rather common
variety, is not a cobra at all, as one can see from its poison

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VARIOUS PESTS, INSECT AND OTHERWISE

fangs. In the cobras the fang is grooved down the front
and the poison runs down the groove into the wound ; in
the vipers, to which the green mamba belongs, the poison
runs down through the hollow fang.

The puff-adder generally lies half buried in the sand with
little more than its head visible. Its coloration is not
particularly noticeable and one might easily tread on it by
accident. A native will put his bare foot on its neck and
hold it down until he has cut off its head. It must be a
trifle thrilling to attempt this proceeding for the first time,
for the puff-adder is not by any means a weakling, being
often four feet in length. He gets his name from the fact
that when excited he puffs up the front part of his body
in much the same way as a cobra does its hood. He has also
a curious habit of striking backwards, often jumping clean
off the ground in a sort of back somersault. I believe that
no other snake does this.

These notes by no means exhaust the subject of East
African pests. Probably a settler in the country might
extend it indefinitely. He would certainly include some
of the bigger game — the rhino, for example, which occasion-
ally does a good deal of damage in cultivated ground. The
zebra would also appear on the list, as the result of his playful
habit of stampeding in herds, breaking through fences and
trampling down the crops. The kongoni is equally trouble-
some. But there is a possibility of getting something out
of the kongoni if it is only a meal. Of course, one can eat
rhino ; only one doesn't if one can avoid it. And in spite
of the native's (and the lion's) predilection for zebra meat,
that particular delicacy does not appeal to a European palate.
The greater camivora, too, sometimes do considerable
damage among the flocks and herds. Sheep, goats, cattle
and ostriches often fall a prey to their raids. The baboons
sometimes do dreadful damage among the young lambs,
ripping them up apparently out of sheer mischief. But if
I include in a chapter on pests every animal against which
the settler has a grievance, I shall have to put in nearly the
whole of the game list. And then somebody will want to
know why I have omitted the East African variety of Indian.

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CHAPTER VIII

Some Prospects and Opinions

Three classes of people go to British East Africa — those
who go for amusement, those who go to settle and make it
their home, and those who go with the idea of making as
much money as possible in the shortest time they can, and
of then returning to Europe. Possibly something of what
I have already said may interest the first of these. I trust
that the present chapter may serve to interest the prospec-
tive settler or planter, who may also, I hope, find here and
there a hint which may assist him in accomplishing his aims.

Of course it is quite open for anyone to ask what right
I, who went to Africa merely as a sportsman, have to attempt
to advise intending settlers as to their prospects. Well, we
shall not quarrel about that. But I have myself been
through the mill in another quarter of the East, and have
had a great deal of first-hand experience in growing some,
at least, of the crops on which the Protectorate depends for
its future. So that if on the present occasion I judge as a
spectator, it is nevertheless as a spectator who has been
" through it," and consequently knows something of the
game and can judge its difficulties as well as its possibilities.
So much by way of preliminary.

I take it that a man who is interested in a new country
will first want to know what are his chances of success,
and what that success is likely to cost him in labour, self-
sacrifice and inconvenience as well as in hard cash. I
don't know that I can settle all this for him, but I can at
least provide him with a few facts which may help him in
making up his mind.

In the first place, British East Africa is no Tom Tiddler's
Ground where fortunes may be had every day for the picking
up. It is just as well to get this clear at the start. There is

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always a sort of glamour about new countries. One is apt
to view them through a golden haze of possibilities. Of
course there are possibilities. Otherwise the game would
not be worth the candle. But it is no use speculating on
them. If the unexpected should happen, so much the
better. But what is wanted at the outset is a clear and
definite idea, not of what may happen, but of what is reason-
ably certain to happen under ordinary conditions ; what
crops will certainly grow and what will not, which breeds
of stock can certainly be reared and which cannot ; what,
in short, will with reasonable luck make a handsome profit
and in any case a decent livelihood.

Up to the present there are only two openings, agricul-
tural and pastoral. Minerals may be found later, but so
far there have been no indications of any great mineral
wealth. But on the other hand the covmtry has as yet been
imperfectly explored, and it may be that this will come in
the future. There have been, as a matter of fact, one or
two diamond rushes from Nairobi, but they petered out to
nothing. Equally of course, there are no great industries.
Of this, however, there are indications, pretty clear ones too,
of great developments in the not distant future.

So for the present the new-comer must necessarily confine
his attention to planting or settling. Success in either will
depend mainly on three factors — ^the fertility of the soil, the
suitability of the climate, and the possibility of obtaining
a sufficiency of native labour. If the produce is to be ex-
ported, the question of transport arises, and in British East
Africa transport means the Uganda Railway. There are no
great waterways here which can be pressed into the service
of commerce. So even if a plot is obtained close to the
railway, there are heavy charges to pay before the cost of
oversea freightage comes into the question. If the plot is
far from the railway the transport question is a very serious
one indeed.

As to land, the choice lies between the Coast lands, the
shores of Lake Victoria Nyanza, the lower plateau and the
highlands. The Coast lands will grow anything. The soil
is amazingly fertile and a planter with a reasonable capital

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and a sound constitution may be certain to do well here.
Near the sea the cocoanut-palm flourishes with exceptional
luxuriance. Stretching inland to the foot of the Coast hills,
there are ten miles or so of black soil, rich with the decayed
vegetation of ages. All tropical plants flourish here, and
the prospects for cotton, coffee, rubber and cocoa are wonder-
fully good. But it is distinctly not a white man's country,
though some men whom I met, who had lived there quite a
long time, seemed to have stood it very well.

The Lake lands are very like the Coast lands, equally fertile
but even more unhealthy. The lower plateau, up to a
height of about 4000 feet, has a more moderate temperature
but a poorer soil. Here there are great stretches of desert
which will grow nothing. In the fertile patches the tropical
cereals will do well, while the fibres, such as sisal and san-
seveira, thrive on the poor soil. Indeed the proportion of
the fibre in the leaves is greater on the poorer soil.

In the highlands the settler may grow seasonable crops
such as wheat, barley, oats, maize, beans, potatoes, tobacco
and linseed. Or he may go in for such permanent crops as
wattle or fruit. Or again, he may decide to go in for farming
stock- — cattle, sheep, pigs, horses or ostriches. In the region
round Lakes Naivasha, Nakuru and Elmenteita he will find
admirable facilities. On the Njoro plains, the Uasin Gishu
plateau and the Sotik, he will have at his disposal some of the
finest corn-land in the world.

To start anywhere in the highlands, it is necessary to
have some preliminary knowledge of farming ; and the
better farmer a man is, the greater his chances of ultimate
success. In the lowlands, with crops like sisal, cocoanuts,
etc., no special knowledge is required at the outset. In this
district, a young fellow of sound health, average intelligence
and decent industry ought to count on being able to go
home with a respectable competency in, say, ten years. But
he will want a bigger capital than if he had chosen to make
a start in the upland region. Nothing much short of a
thousand pounds would, I imagine, suffice for the most
moderate start. In the highland region about half this
sum would do for a modest beginning. If I were a young

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man intending to settle in British East Africa, I should
choose either the Coast lands or the Lake lands, though both
are equally undesirable from the point of view of health.
As regards the possibility of obtaining labour, the Lake lands
have the advantage. There the population is dense and the
natives are industrious — for natives — and have some ideas
of agriculture and stock-raising.

Land in the Protectorate can only be obtained from the
Crown, or, of course, by purchase from someone who holds it
from the Crown. A large tract can be obtained on lease
only, the rent payable being threepence, twopence, a penny
or a halfpenny per acre, according to the character of the
land and its proximity to the railway, its water supply, and
so on. Thus the best land in the country can be had at
threepence per acre. Even these rates may be reduced by
the Commissioner of Lands, if he sees fit. The leases are
granted for ninty-nine years, but are subject to revision at
the end of thirty-three and sixty-six years respectively.
Then the new rents are fixed at five per cent, of the value
of the unimproved land, so that a tenant is not faced with
the undesirable possibility of having to pay heavily for im-
provements which he himself has made. In addition to his
leasehold, a settler may acquire a freehold homestead farm
of 340 acres, the price payable for the same bemg fixed at
twenty times the rental value of the land.

As to climate, I take it the question is not " What sort
of a climate is it for a holiday ? " but " What sort of a climate
is it to work in day after day ? " So, in settling the meaning
of that much-quoted phrase, " a white man's country,"
one has first to consider whether a man can engage in steady
outdoor work in the place selected just as he can at home.
And the answer to that, in my opmion, is certainly "No."
The people who talk of the perfect climate of the highland
district, " like a perpetual English summer," have, 1 think,
underestimated the effect of the direct rays of the almost
vertical sun when felt continuously. Although one may,
as I have proved, walk, ride or shoot, day after day, without
cessation, and with no obvious ill effects, 1 think that a man
who tried to work hard in the open all day and every day

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would be in serious danger of collapse. Under shelter there
should be no such risk. Fortunately, the actual manual
labour does not fall to the white man, so that this danger is
greatly minimised. As to the effects of continued residence,
there seems a tendency, among those who know, to insist
on the necessity for a periodical change, if one wishes to
avoid a condition of depression which may possibly culminate
in a nervous breakdown. It may be that this has less to do
with the climate itself than with the strain of working under
difficult and, to a large extent, unfamiliar conditions, and
that it will probably settle itself in time. But as the figures
of the death-rate show, the highland region is really extremely
healthy ; and as the various measures adopted to combat
such diseases as malaria are more stringently enforced it is
likely to become more and more so. So much for the
uplands. On the Coast and on the shores of Lake Victoria
Nyanza, great care is required to maintain oneself fit, but
with that care there is no reason why any white man who
is sound and temperate should not do very well. I have
seen men who have lived in these places for ten or twenty
years, and who at the end of it were anything but the chronic
invalids the croakers would make out. The chief troubles
are malaria and dysentery. Personally, I am of opinion
that the danger from malaria has been overrated. The
danger lies in its neglect. With care and proper treatment,
there should be nothing more than some days' inconveni-
ence. And the vigorous measures taken against mosquitoes
are gradually reducing the risk of attack. Dysentery is,
of course, serious, and as all African sources of drinking water
are more or less polluted, strict precautions are essential.
But the man who, in Africa, will not take the trouble to
see that his drinkmg water is beyond suspicion, deserves
what he is likely to get.

The question of native labour is a thorny one. The
African native is unfortunately no convert to the gospel of
work. His lot has fallen in a place where very little exertion
is required to supply his needs, and where the social code
prevailing permits his wife, or wives, to supply most of that.
He wants, indeed, so very little, that the only way to make

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SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

him work is to make him acquire new wants, which only his
labour will enable him to satisfy. Whether this will make
him any happier in the long run is a moot point. The negro
seems to me to lead a far finer and happier life than, say, the
factory hand living in the slums of a great manufacturing
town. He has, as a rule, enough for his present needs, is
practically free from care for the future, and is never forced
to work monotonously and continually through fear of starv-
ing. Skilled native labour, in the strict sense of the term,
is, of course, non-existent ; j but the ordinary native can
easily be taught the simple operations of farming. Some,
indeed, are very skilful in their own way, and readily grasp
European methods. The natives are recruited cither
personally or through agents. In some cases bodies of them
travel through the country seeking work, and going back
to their own villages when the time comes to garner in their
own harvests. The wages paid vary from three to eight
rupees per month, to which must be added from two to four
rupees for food.

I do not propose to discuss in detail the prospects of the
various crops, but merely to say a word or two as to what
can be done with the principal ones. Fruit, save for what
grows wild, seems to have been rather neglected. But all
the temperate varieties seem to do well in one part of the
colony or another. Pears, I am told, are an exception, for
which no explanation is forthcoming. Bearing in mind the
fact that the two growing seasons practically double the
crop, there seems no reason why fruit-growing should not
prove one of the most profitable of the industries of the
Protectorate, when the great question of transport has been
finally solved, and possibly arrangements have been made
for canning on the spot.

Wheat has sho^^'n varying results. It grows well and sells
well. The trouble is. as elsewhere — rust. The first two or
three crops are all right, and then the trouble begins. Pos-
sibly the seed loses some of its vitality, or it may be that
some constituent of the soil becomes exhausted. The
" gluyas " variety, which was the first introduced, rusted
badly. An Italian species, ricti, has done better. The

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AFTER BIG GAME

Agricultural Department is vigorously carrying out experi-
ments in hybridisation, and has already produced five months'
wheat of fine quality, specially suited to the climate and,
it is claimed, capable of resisting rust.

Maize grows lustily and forms a great part of the native
food. Already an export trade has been established, the
quality being well up to the highest standard. There is no
doubt that with careful cultivation British East Africa can
produce better maize than most other parts of the world,
and a lot more of it. Up to the present, settlers have been
mainly concerned with growing more remunerative crops.
When freights can be brought down to a reasonable figure,
the export of maize should be greatly increased.

Two crops of beans, as of most other things, can be grown
each year, and some attention has already been devoted to
growing this crop for export. The " Canadian Wonder "
and the " Rose Cocos " have proved best. The cost of pro-
duction and marketing is about £3, 10s. per ton, and they
realise, at Nairobi, about £7 per ton, and at Marseilles,
£11 to £11, 15s. per ton. One advantage is that the crop
is practically immune from the attacks of insect pests and
fungoid diseases. Linseed shows great promise, the yield
and quality being good enough to challenge comparison with
Ireland. Many oil-seeds are indigenous, castor oil, cotton,
sem-sem and ground nut being the chief. Sem-sem is pro-
duced in considerable quantities, its high price making it a
very profitable crop. The District Commissioners in the
Lake Belt are trying to induce the natives to grow it in
their shambas. Certain other vegetable products deserve
treatment in detail.

CocoANUTS. — The Coast lands are ideal for the cultiva-
tion of cocoanuts. The palm grows more luxuriantly here
than anywhere else on earth, save on the adjacent coasts
of German East Africa. At present the nuts are mainly
sold locally or used for making tembo, the native variety of
toddy. Copra is made only in a few isolated areas, and these
do not go far toward building up an export trade. But
there is a fine future here for a man who can afford to wait
half-a-dozen years for his return. The position is somewhat

.S02

SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

as follows. Good seed nuts must be obtained from mature
trees — i.e. trees twenty years old, which have never been
tapped for toddy. The land must, of course, be cleared
and the nuts planted twenty-five feet apart. Then the
ground must be kept clean. For five years no return can be
expected, but after that the reward is a great one. Taking
a farm of 360 acres, the expenditure up to the seventh year
ought not to exceed from £2500 to £3000. In the tenth
year the income ought not to be less than £3000 per annum,
and the property should be saleable at something like £50
an acre. The trees will go on bearing well for about forty
years. Cocoanut plantations can also be rented from " The
East African Estates Ltd." at about one rupee per tree per
annum, or, say, £5 per acre. The gross return should be
nearly double that, so that the planter might calculate on a
yield of about £5 per acre, from which he would have to
deduct the cost of labour, transport and marketing. In
calculating the cost of living during the six years or so of
waiting, the possibility of growing catch crops should not be
forgotten.

Sisal. — ^This plant is one of the agaves, and gets its name
from a port in Florida. It was introduced into German
East Africa in 1893 and into the British colony about ten
years later. The plant has a short stem and fleshy, sword-
like leaves three to six feet long. In five or six years it
" poles " — that is, it sends up a long flower-spike about twenty
to thirty feet high. This is covered with bulbils, possibly a
couple of thousand of them, which can be used for propagation.
The leaves can be cut two and a half or three years after
planting. The total yield from each plant is about two hundred
leaves. In German East Africa the yield is not more than
one hundred and sixty. The leaves when cut are decorticated
and the fibre is washed clean of the pulp and then dried.
With proper machinery the process is a simple one ; without
it, plenty of native labour is necessary. As to the choice of
position, the sisal grower is fortunate, for the poorer the land
the better the quality of the fibre. The plant, like the rest
of its species, is specially adapted to subsist in an arid
region, but water must be available for the decorticating and

303

AFTER BIG GAME

washing of the fibre. Another point to be considered is the
question of transport, for the bales of fibre are very bulky
in proportion to their weight. Hence reasonable proximity
to the rail is an important factor. So also is the supply of
native labour. On the uplands this is far cheaper (3 to 7
rupees a month) and more abundant than near the coast
(11 to 16 rupees a month). As to the cost, bulbils run from
15s. to 20s. per thousand. The land must be cleared and
planted, but after that very little in the way of cultivation
is needed. Few weeds are hardy enough to compete success-
fully with Agave rigida sisilana. Suckers must be set out
between the rows to ensure a regular succession of plants,
and that is about all. Clearing and planting 300 acres
would cost about £1500, while houses, sheds for dealing with
the fibre, and machinery, might cost another £1000.

The returns would commence at the end of the third year.
A fair estimate would be half-a-ton of fibre per acre. Sisal
fibre fetches from £20 to £30 per ton ; so that, taking it at
£25, the yield would be £3750, from which would have to be
deducted the cost of labour and transport. At the moment
the clear profit is reckoned to be from £12 to £13 a ton ; and
this for 150 tons works out at £1800 — the yearly result as
long as the estate is kept in fair order. A bigger area would
be cheaper to work. To keep the plant constantly running
would need at least 1000 acres. One great point with regard
to sisal is that its successful cultivation requires no previous
skill or experience. Further, the poorest quality of land
is the best. It is also the cheapest, a rental of |d. per acre
being the probable cost. The yield on the coral rag near the
coast is greatest, but labour there is scarcer and dearer than
in the highlands. The area from the Taru desert to Makindu
is probably as good as any.

Wattle. — This is an acacia, and is valued for its bark,
which contains a great deal of tannin, which makes it of use
in tanning. The wood is also useful for building purposes.
The trees are ready for stripping in five years, the double
season hastening the growth as in the case of sisal. At present
most of the wattle bark supply is drawn from the forests
of Australia and Natal. In British East Africa the growth

304

Swiihili Villiijio, near >siiiiT)bi

SJMil I'liiiiliilinii. Nyali.

SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

is far quicker, the return per acre greater and the proportion
of tannin higher. Here again is a crop easily grown without
previous knowledge, and which finds a ready market. The
great questions to be considered are the supply of native
labour and the facilities for transport, the product being a
bulky one. At present some 10,000 acres are under cultiva-
tion, and a scheme is on foot for erecting a factory at
Naivasha to extract the tannin on the spot and so diminish
the cost of transport. The tree grows best in this neighbour-
hood.

Cotton. — This has not as yet been largely tried, and the
annual export does not exceed 200 tons. But some parts
of the Protectorate, especially near the Lake and on the
Coast, are peculiarly fitted for it, and it should be easy to
grow it there.

CoTTEE. — ^This promises well for the future. At present
about 50,000 acres are planted, but there is a great deal of
wUd coffee of very fair quality in the Nandi country and
in Uganda. The wild berries are small but of good colour
and flavour. The quantity, wild and plantation, which was
exported in 1913 amounted to 275,585 rupees in value. This
is, of course, not a great sum, but it compares very favourably
with the 4031 rupees worth exported in 1908. The quality,
too, is capable of improvement. East African coffee fetched
£83 per ton in 1912. The best district for this crop is
certainly Uganda, but this is by no means white man's
country.

Success with coffee is neither so easy nor so certain as with
sisal or with cocoanuts. Sound experience is essential, and
the beginner had better do a year's apprenticeship on a good
plantation before starting out on his own.

The variety generally grown is Arabica, probably because
that was the variety first introduced by the French fathers
from Mocha. I am told that this IMocha coffee does best in
the highlands but that Liberian coffee is superior in the
lowlands. This is probably true. It is also true that the
latter gives a larger yield and is not nearly so delicate as
the former. The Arabian coffee is specially liable to rust,
and there have been two or three epidemics of it here. It is

u 305

AFTER BIG GAME

worth noting that the bad effects were less pronounced than
might have been anticipated, so that possibly either the
soil or the climate is not favourable to the disease. Blue
Mountain coffee has been tried on a limited scale with very
encouraging results. Another variety, Robusta, which was
introduced into Java about fifteen years ago and has done
very well there, might be tried in British East Africa.
It does particularly well on rich soils, especially those of
volcanic origin.

One disadvantage of the Arabian coffee is the necessity
of picking immediately the berry is " cherry " ripe. Any
delay entails the risk of an attack of fungus and a damaged
crop, while premature picking results in the inclusion of
unripe berries and a " bad sample." The berries should be
pulped the day they are picked, and the pulper must be very
carefully set. I saw several samples of coffee in British
East Africa which had been literally spoiled by bad pulping,
the berries being scratched and pulper-nipped. The market
value of such a sample suffers severely. As to prospects,
much will, of course, depend on the individual. He cannot,
as in the case of hardier crops, leave much to chance. His
great expense will be the clearing of the land ; on the other
hand, the area under cultivation will be comparatively
smaill. The trees need constant attention and skilful pruning.
Machinery, though essential, is not expensive, and as the
crop is not a bulky one, the question of transport does not
assume the same importance as it does with sisal or wattle.
Labour is the main consideration, as the picking demands
the employment of a considerable number of unskilled
labourers for a brief period. So, as one cannot keep a crowd
idle for a whole year in anticipation, the plantation must
be chosen in a spot where native labour is abundant. There
must also be provision of shelter from wind and sun. Rows
of banana-trees are often chosen for this ; they are quick
growers but have the disadvantage of being gross feeders,
and so tend to exhaust the soil and the moisture. On the
highlands less shade is required. The ideal altitude is said
to be between 2000 and 3000 feet, although coffee is being
successfully grown very much higher up. The question of

306

SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

temperature is, however, one of importance, the lowest the
plant will stand being 42° F. The ideal conditions are a
temperature of between 65° and 75° F. and a rainfall of about
100 inches per annum. Three years' growth is needed before
cropping, and then, if proper care has been taken, there should
be a profit of about £15 an acre, and the trees should remain
in full bearing for some years to come.

Rubber. — ^As far as I was able to judge, the prospect of
growing rubber at present prices is not particularly promis-
ing. There is a good deal of wild rubber, which up to the
present has been collected more or less spasmodically. The
shipments for 1913 amounted to 1165 c^vt., of which 687 cwt.
was wild rubber. On several estates rubber has recently
been abandoned in favour of cocoanuts. One reason is
perhaps that Ceara rubber has been generally grown instead
of Para. The latter is delicate and needs careful tapping,
and a dry year may wipe out a whole plantation. The former
is a strong grower and stands the drought well. Moreover,
the Ceara can be tapped in the second year, while Para needs
five to seven years before tapping. But when once estab-
lished, the Para will give a far greater yield. Twenty-year-old
Para will yield 20 lb. of dry rubber per tree, while the Ceara
has ceased to yield any latex at all.

It is difficult to give any useful figures, but the following
are somewhere near the mark. The trees are planted some
12 to 16 feet apart. The former gives 300 and the latter
170 trees to the acre. The cost of clearing and planting 300
acres would be about £1000, while buildings would account
for £250. In the third year, with Ceara, one might collect
I lb, per tree. At 300 trees to the acre there would be
90,000 trees, which would give 22,500 lb. of rubber, which
at 2s. a pound on the plantation would bring in £2250. The
cost of collection would work out at something like Is. 6d.
per pound, so that the net profit would be £562, 10s. In the
sixth year, with the trees producing 1 lb. apiece, the figures
would be 90,000 lb. at 2s. a pound- i.e. £9000, less cost of
collection, which (as the labour would be less in proportion
through collecting a larger quantity fiom each tree) would
in this instance be about Is, per lb. The average daily

307

AFTER BIG GAME

wage of a rubber collector varies from 5d. to 8d. These
figures are for Ceara. With Para rubber, under skilful
cultivation, the returns could be made much greater. In the
latter case, however, the risks would be greater too.

One word on the question of raising stock. People accus-
tomed to a temperate climate will regard the idea of rearing
sheep on the Equator as something of an absurdity. But
it is a proposition already solved, and the Agricultural
Department of the colony is prepared to advise any intend-
ing settler as to how he may do it for himself. It is quite
true that the early settlers had to face serious loss, but the
causes of their failures are now clearly understood and can
be guarded agamst. The worst were due to worm, and this
has been proved to be the result of grazing over worm-
infested pastures infected by the droppings of wild game.

There are, of course, native African sheep ; but the local
product is a very poor thing from the wool-producing point
of view, and not much better when regarded from the stand-
point of mutton. Its coat is hairy, its colours many and
its flesh tough and uninteresting. But the man who has a
limited pocket must make the native sheep the basis of his
flocks, and by careful grading up attempt to produce from
this unpromising material an animal useful both from the
point of view of wool and from that of meat. The Masai
sheep are the best of the native breeds to begin with. Crossed
with merino rams, they speedily produce saleable fleeces.
The clip from a second cross will give from six to eight pounds
of wool, saleable at about 8d. per pound, and from a third
cross from seven to ten pounds, saleable at lOd. A pure-
bred sheep will give from nine to twelve pounds of wool,
which may realise lid., ll|d. or Is. a pound. A capital
of £1500 would provide 1500 native ewes, about 40 pure-
bred rams, all the necessary buildings and fencing, and
provide further for all the expenditure required until the
returns begin to come in. There is fine grazing, cheap
labour— eight to ten shillings a month is an average wage —
and the outlook after the third year is distinctly a promising
one.

There are few countries in the world better adapted for

308

SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

cattle-rearing than British East Africa. The native herds
alone are reckoned at over two millions. There are great
stretches of grazing land, second to none in the world ; and
the grass, as a result of the double season, keeps green and
fresh all the year round. The native cattle, if not particularly
fine specimens from our point of view, afford excellent
material for grading up. The process is as yet in its infancy,
but private owners as well as the Government have paid
much attention to the question, with the result that fine
herds of graded stock exist to-day, and the quality of the
beef and the quantity of the milk yielded are improving
every year.

At present the stock is mostly sold in the colony, where
there is a great demand for butcher's meat, milk and draught
oxen, as well as for cattle for stocking up the new farms to
the level of the Government requirements. There is no
doubt that a cold storage trade will later be established, and
the stock farmer should then come into his own. The capital
needed is comparatively large. Native cows cost from £5
to £10, and a good graded cow £15. The prices have risen
of late, partly as a result of the ravages of the plague and
partly because of the increased demand. Of imported cattle
the shorthorn has probably been the most successful, though
Frieslands, Herefords, Ayrshires and Redpolls have done
almost as well.

The question of the supply of labom* is not so difficult
here, as the native herdsmen are good, accustomed to caring
for the stock and sufficiently intelligent to acquire readily
European ideas of management and breeding. The Govern-
ment stock farm at Naivasha was established in 1903 for
the purpose of investigating the possibilities of improving
the native strains of cattle, sheep, pigs, etc., by crossing
them with imported thoroughbreds ; and it has done
wonderful work, not only by advising settlers as to the best
breeds for their districts, but also in supplying pure-bred
and graded animals for breeding purposes, and in investi-
gating the causes of the various ailments affecting stock, and
in advising as to treatment. Experiments in crossing the
native donkey with the Catalonian jackass have proved very

309

AFTER BIG GAME

successful, the progeny showing great improvement both in
size and bone.

Pigs are, of course, ubiquitous, because of the Httle trouble
they entail, the rapidity with which they breed, the cheapness
with which they can be fed, the quickness with which they
reach the profitable stage and the smallness of the outlay
needed. Most farms will raise a certain number of pigs in
any case. There is the usual difficulty of transport, but
bacon factories like the Uplands Bacon Factory at Lari will
doubtless spring up in time and help to lessen this trouble.
The great point here seems to me to be the necessity of
breeding only the highest grade of bacon, there being no
local market for the lower grades. For suitable pigs, the
Uplands Bacon Factory pays in ordinary seasons 3d. per
pound live weight, which compares favourably with the
price paid in England, where the cost of production is much
greater. All the foods for fattening, such as maize, barley,
potatoes and lucerne, can be grown here at low cost.
Bananas, too, are plentiful, and banana-fed pork is by no
means the worst of its kind. Altogether, the prospects are
exceptionally good.

Ostriches. — One can hardly leave this subject without a
word as to the future of ostrich farming, which bids fair to
become a great industry in the near future. The native
birds are of a better type than those of South Africa (which
now provides the greater part of the world's feather supply),
being superior in size as well as in quality of feather. Some
of the wOd plumes, indeed, challenge comparison with the
best of the cultivated variety sent from the South African
farms. Rearing ostriches is rather a tricky business, and
this is one of the cases in which some previous experience
is essential. As to profits, a good bird will bring in about
from £2 to £5 annually from the feather crop only. But as
month-old chicks sell for £1 apiece or more, six-month-old
chicks for £3, and grown birds for from £10 to £15 apiece,
it is obvious that the profit is not confined to the feathers
alone.

As I have already suggested, the question of labour is
all-important, whatever branch of industry is adopted.

310

SOME PROSPECTS AND OPINIONS

Among the natives the common practice, sanctioned by years
of custom, is to leave all manual work to the females of the
tribe. In the old days, when the proportion of males to
females was kept do\vn by incessant warfare, it was possible
for the native to keep a sufficient number of wives to do all
his household affairs in comfort. The more peaceful con-
ditions of to-day are gradually altering this, by levelling up
the numbers of the two sexes. So the negro, instead of being
a fighting man pure and simple, and in the intervals of
fighting an ornament, will have to become a worker ; and
polygamy will become more and more restricted to a favoured
few. Further, as the result of association with whites, the
negro races are gradually becoming more habituated to the
idea of steady work. Only, at present, they require handling
firmly and judiciously. The type of settler who starts off
by considering the negro as a useless brute will do no good
with him at any time. In such hands he will always be
useless. But the fault is not entirely his own. In Africa
as elsewhere a useless servant generally implies an incom-
petent master.

Looking at the question as a whole, the prospects of the
settler in British East Africa are by no means unpromising,
and in certain directions distinctly the reverse. The climate,
apart from the drawbacks to which I have already referred,
is a glorious one ; the soil is fertile and virgin ; the grazing
admirable ; labour is in most districts plentiful, cheap and
easily managed. There is no doubt that a settler who makes
up his mind to put his back into his work and face the in-
evitable inconveniences and drawbacks will secure a sound
reward for his labour. And in the meantime there is all the
pleasure of an outdoor life, and the relaxation to be obtained
from sport in the fmcst big-game country in the world.

31 r

PAUT lY
By F. G. Aflalo

CHAPTER IX

Fishing in the Protectorate

Africa has not hitherto been famous as a fisherman's
playground, but its failure to earn such a reputation should
be attributed not so much to any actual lack of opportunities
in either sea, river or lake as to the predominant attraction
of shooting, since ninety-nine out of every hundred sportsmen,
whether settlers or globe-trotters, are too intent on bagging
trophies of the rifle to spare any time for the rod. Yet the
quieter sport is often a welcome change from big-game
shooting, besides furnishing a useful change of food when
camp is pitched near a lake or stream ; and both British
East Africa and the neighbouring territory of Uganda afford
an extraordinary variety of fishing under every imaginable
condition, the generous supply of Nature having been supple-
mented by imported trout which, even if a little inaccessible
in their present quarters, are nevertheless available for the
fastidious fisherman to whom only the cream of his sport
holds out any attraction.

With the details of safari I need not concern myself, except
to say that a fishing camp is in all respects precisely the same
as a shooting camp, save that it calls for a much more
modest personnel and involves only a fraction of the expense,
inasmuch as the angler has no use for the services of a pro-
fessional hunter or for more than a handful of natives to
carry his personal baggage and look after his camp. The
usual string of porters for carrying the ammunition on the
outward and the trophies on the homeward march can
therefore be dispensed with.

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AFTER BIG GAME

Few readers of this book are likely to follow my example
and go on safari as far into the interior as the steaming shores
of the Albert Nyanza, for the fishing only, but as the best
season for both sports — i.e. that with the minimum of
rainfall — is from Christmas to March, the information given
in this chapter may, it is hoped, be of service to big-game
hunters who like an occasional spell of fishing when the
opportunity affords.

This information is, it will be seen, subdivided under four
heads : i. Sea-fish at Mombasa ; ii. Trout in the Aberdares ;
III. Barbel at the Nile Falls ; and iv. The Giant Perch and
Tiger-fish of Lake Albert. As regards the third of these,
it may at once be said that most of the streams in the Pro-
tectorate contain barbel of one species or another, and that
most of them take a fly or small spoon. The best of the big
barbel are, however, to be found at the Ripon Falls, close to
Jinja, though the water is there unsuitable for any method
other than spinning. For the fly fishing in the smaller streams,
of which I had too little experience to be of seivice to others,
I would refer the reader to Mr M. Seth Smith of Nairobi, INIr
C. W. Woodhouse of the Game Department, or some other of
the handful of residents who know anything of such matters.

A prefatory note on tackle for the trip may perhaps be
convenient. For the sea-fish at Mombasa, which run very
large (the Governor's best only fell a little short of a
hundred poimds), and which are caught under conditions that
throw the greatest strain on rod and line, tarpon tackle is
to be strongly recommended. I am aware that in the early
days more than one good fish was landed on salmon tackle,
and even more recently Mr Lee succeeded, with an old sea-
rod and 41 -inch Nottingham reel belonging to the Governor,
in killing a fish of 82 lb. (the second best so far recorded at
Mombasa) in thirty-five minutes. This extraordinary feat
was accomplished on 17th February 1915, and unless the
fish in question was abnormally out of condition, or miless
the fisherman, whom I have not the pleasure of knowing,
is a man of above the average strength, I am frankly unable
to say how it was done. At any rate those who fish regularly
at Mombasa now use tarpon tackle, and Sir Henry Belfield

314

FISHING IN THE PROTECTORATE

never fishes with anything but the outfit which, at his
request, I sent out from Messrs Farlow on my return home.
It is true that such an outfit leaves httle change out of £20,
but it is worth the money. For the rest of the fishing, tarpon
tackle will serve again with the giant perch, which may also
exceed 100 lb., in Lake Albert ; ordinary trout tackle is
needed for the Gura, and will also come in handy with the
barbel of the smaller streams ; and for the Ripon Falls any
good spinning rod and reel, the latter one or other of the
modern patterns which make long-distance casting a joy
instead of a penance, will be found serviceable.

I. SEA-FISH AT MOMBASA

Before dropping anchor at Kilindini, the deep-water port

of British East Africa, and situated close to the town of

Mombasa, steamers of the Union Castle, British India and

other English lines (and their rivals of the Woermann

Company need not be seriously considered in the immediate

future) stay for a few hours at least at Port Sudan, on the

western shore of the Red Sea ; and here the sea-angler may

be strongly advised to make arrangements beforehand that

will enable him, instead of going ashore where there is

nothing to do or see, to enjoy a foretaste of the big fish of

the Indian Ocean. He can, in fact, catch the premier fish

of Mombasa, there knoA\Ti by its Swahili name " koli koli "

(Caranx ignohilis) but here called " bayad " by the Arab

fishermen who hail from Jedda. This, with other excellent

sporting fishes, including bonito, barracouta and several

more, may be caught right inside the harbour and within a

stone's throw of the quay, but by way of saving time it will

be best to arrange by the mail before he leaves home for an

Arab fisherman to be in readiness with live bait and for the

hotel boatman to have his own boat waiting at the gangway.

The tarpon tackle may here receive its baptism, and the

fishing, which is with a live sardine for bait, will be found

most attractive, particularly as it is in perfectly smooth

water close to the ship.

Arrived at Mombasa ten days later, where he will pre-

315

AFTER BIG GAME

sumably spend a few days before starting up country,
possibly getting his camping requirement together under
the auspices of the British East Africa Corporation and
generally resting at the Club, the visitor's best plan will be
to get hold of one or other of the residents, without excep-
tion Government officials at the time of my own stay, who
have made a study of the sea-fishing.

Bait presents a constant difficulty, as the fish market
is none too regularly supplied with either " unah " or grey
mullet C'nkisi"), the only two small local fish suitable
for moimting on spinning traces. Fortunately, however,
the biggest fish take a spoon as readUy, if not even more so,
but it must be a spoon worthy of such game. I caught koli
koli of 55 and 64 lb. on a great wobbling spoon supplied by
Farlow ; and the Governor, using a similar pattern, more
recently killed a fish of 91 lb. This was on 22nd March 1915.
Curiously enough, when he and I fished together the previous
March we could catch nothing but small dolphins {'' falusi "),
the big fish being, as we found out too late, inside Kilindini
harbour. The fishing is simply the same kind of trolling in
deep water as Americans practise at Santa Catalina for
tuna and yellow- tail. It is best done out of a launch going
from four to six knots, but some prefer a yacht. This, it is
true, gives more room when playing a heavy fish, but it is
essential to have a European in change of the mainsail, as
the Swahili are rarely smart enough in lowering it in time
to save a heavy fish. I lost a tremendous fellow in this way
one day inside the reef as we were running home in the
shallow water before a stiff breeze. It is unusual to hook
anything large inside the reef, and I had put out a spoon only
to amuse one of the party, when all of a sudden there was
a scream of the tarpon reel, and before the native crew could
get the sail down the whole of my 300 yards were out and,
with a mighty splashing, the fish got away.

While the koli koli is the chief prize at Mombasa, there is
another ocean fish, the nguru, that also gives capital sport
and is taken in the same way. The best nguru recorded in
the Governor's journal weighed 31 lb. These fish are more
often foul -hooked than the other kinds.

316

FISHING IN THE PROTECTORATE

II. TROUT IN THE ABERDARES

It is safe to predict that wherever EngHshmen and Scots-
men are exiled to remote regions they will, given time, take
with them their golf and their trout. The making of golf
links is a comparatively simple business, but the introduction
of trout, quite apart from the very considerable climatic
limitations by which such enterprise is conditioned, is
both difficult and costly. Nevertheless our countrymen have
overcome both the difficulty and the expense as far from
home as Tasmania, New Zealand and South Africa, and it
was only to be expected that a similar experiment should be
tried in eminently suitable streams on the Equator in British
East Africa. The first river selected for the honour, and
indeed at the time of my visit the only one in which the
venture had borne fruit, was the Gura, a lovely little mountain
stream at the summit of the Aberdares, best reached by a
two-day safari from Naivasha station, a few hours' journey
west of Nairobi. Frankly, the journey to the river entails
a pretty good climb, better faced on four feet than on two ;
but the goal is worth travelling to, and I have fished in
few more attractive trout-streams outside Devonshire. The
trout are numerous ; too numerous, if the whole truth must
be told (an evil due to their being so rarely fished for), and
they run large. Unfortunately, owing to shortage of natural
food and the prevalence of cannibal habits, their condition
is not always all that could be wished, and one that I caught
of nineteen inches scaled only just over two pounds, a hope-
lessly inadequate weight for a fish of that length. If the
intending visitor to the Gura can enlist the help of Mr
Minshall, the local Forester, he will be spared much loss of
time and other inconvenience. He will also do well to bear
in mind that it can be exceedingly cold at that altitude (over
10,000 feet above sea-level), with heavy frosts at night, and
a stout overcoat, with plenty of blankets for his camp bed,
are necessary for comfort. The Gura offers a variety of
water for both wet and dry fly, but, speaking generally, the
angler will find that he does best with a couple of wet flies
(I caught fish on a Coachman and a March Brown) fished in

317

AFTER BIG GAME

short casts upstream, and wading is a great help. Through-
out the rainy season — that is to say, our summer and autumn
— the river is unfishable, so that Nature thus imposes a close
time which is more strictly observed than those prescribed
elsewhere by law.

III. BARBEL AT THE NILE FALLS

We have now turned our back on British East Africa and
are on board the little Government steamer, Clement Hill,
which, after calling at Entebbe, the official capital of Uganda,
returns by way of Jinja to its starting place, Kisumu or
Port Florence.

At Jinja we leave the boat and visit the famous Ripon
Falls, the picturesque outlet of the Nile from Victoria
Nyanza, where the great river sets out, amid an indescribable
tumult, on its tremendous journey to Egypt and the
Mediterranean. The Ripon Falls do not rank high in the
globe-trotter's memories, and I should not, having looked
on both, compare them for a moment with Niagara. All the
same, this emancipation of the Nile from its silent cradle is
an impressive spectacle, while the deafening music of the
tumbling waters is not only hypnotic in its effect on the
fisherman standing close to the outlet but, what is of more
practical importance, hides the movements of lurking
crocodiles. Contrary to the popular belief in their habits,
these have before now been known to come close to un-
suspecting victims, usually native women drawing water,
under cover of the din, and brush them off the bank with a
sweep of the powerful tail. During the few days I fished at
Jinja, mider the able tuition of Dr Van Someren, I had some-
one on the look out for these reptiles ; and a similar caution
was impressed on me by Mr Woodhouse in respect of the
rivers in British East Africa, where somewhat similar barbel
are to be caught.

When these barbel of the Falls, known to the natives
as kisinia {Barhiis radcliffi), were first discovered, it was
suggested that they were identical with the famous mahseer
of India. Having caught both, I can positively deny this ;

318

FISHING IN THE PROTECTORATE

and I would add that, though capable of trying the fisher-
man's arms and tackle with all that weight of water behind
them, these African barbel do not put up anything like the
same fight as Barbus tor as I knew him in rivers of the
Himalayas. Yet they are not to be despised, whether in
the river or on the table, and may be caught by anyone
capable of throwing a light spoon thirty yards or so, clearing
the first reef of rocks and getting out into the deep water
beyond. There are several stances, and a local fishing club,
with a modest membership and apparently no subscription
(at any rate I was not allowed to pay any), keeps these in
order. The best is close to the Falls, and here barbel up
to 20 lb. or more have been taken, with catfish up to 30 lb.
I got none over 11 lb„ but had several of that weight.
Local experts use a two-handed rod, but this is a matter
of taste and by no means necessary, as more depends on
the reel, and more still on the man who handles both. A
word may be said here as to the necessity of guarding against
sunstroke at the Falls, as the sun is terribly hot, and no one
should venture out without a topee and smoked glasses.
The same warning applies to Lake Albert, where the heat
early in March was terrific. It is necessary to gaff these
barbel, the swift water being against the use of a landing
net, and the operation can only with difficulty be performed
by the fisherman himself, particularly if he is unaccustomed
to the slippery rocks from which it is highly undesirable
to fall into the maelstrom below. In view of the great heat
during the middle hours of the day, it is customary to fish
only morning and evening. The same hours were preferred
at Mombasa, but in either case this is a matter of personal
comfort rather than any question of the fish biting better,
as they could probably be caught in both sea and river all
day long. Nor, as I understand from Dr Van Someren, is
there any particular season for Jmja fishing. At IMombasa,
on the other hand, the sea is usually too rough during the
south-west monsoon, and all the best fishing is therefore
to be had in the first three months of the year.

319

AFTER BIG GAME

IV. THE GIANT PERCH AND TIGER-FISH OP LAKE ALBERT

We have so far considered angling in ocean and river.
There remain the lakes. What possibilities Victoria Nyanza
may hold for the angler I am unable to say. I spent only a
week on its shores and was not very favourably impressed,
though it is undoubtedly full of fish. I fancy that the eastern
end, near Kavirondo Gulf, would best repay an angling visit.
Most of my own time was spent at Entebbe, where, under
the guidance of Father Puel, of the White Fathers' Mission,
I spent some hours afloat, but without encountering anything
more interesting than catfish.

It is round Albert Nyanza that my lake-fishing memories
in that region centre. I was, of course, prepared for the
Giant Perch itself by the writings of Baker and other
pioneers and also by information supplied by Sir Frederick
Jackson, Governor of Uganda, but the behaviour of this
magnificent fish when hooked was, I confess, unexpected.

Albert Nyanza must be reached from Jinja by a some-
what roundabout route covering three days and entailing
a day in the train, which takes the traveller as far as
Namsagali ; then a night on a steamer, which deposits him
next morning at Makindi Port ; thirdly, a run of three or
four hours in the Government motor to Makindi itself ; and
finally a safari of a couple of days, preferably in a rickshaw,
which may be hired with a crew of eight boys at Jinja, to
the lake itself, camping each night along the Government
road at the edge of the Uganda forest.

The view of the lake, seen over the steep escarpment, has
the fascination of every sheet of Avater Avhich is the goal of
travel in the tropics, and, with the snow-capped mountains
of the Congo on the farther shore, it is really an attractive
scene ; but the heat, it must be confessed, is severe, and the
flies of all Equatorial Africa seem to have collected at
Butiaba.

Here is the headquarters of the Government steamer,
Samuel Baker, and the famous explorer's old elephant-gun
is preserved in the saloon. The resident Marine Super-
intendent has a number of craft, large and small, on hand,

320

^k

Koli-koli (53 Ib^.). Mombasa.

Giant rorcli i>f Albeit Nyanza.

FISHING IN THE PROTECTORATE

and these can be chartered by the visitor at a variety of
charges embodied in a tariff to be had on application. As a
matter of fact, the gig with a crew of six is all that is required,
as there is no need for any great pace when trolling for perch
and tiger-fish that between them make up the bag.

There is no actual public accommodation at Butiaba, but
there is a considerable choice of camping site and, if provisions
are short, the visitor would probably be able to arrange to
take his meals on board the steamer if in port.

The " baggara " or " piinda,'" as natives call the giant
perch of the Nile {Lates niloticus), is a magnificent fish.
Those who have fished in the Indian Ocean and South Pacific
know the gigantic perches of that region, the " begti " of
the Indian coast and the big perch of Queensland estuaries,
but none of these excel, even if they equal, the giant perch
of the Nile. The one shown in the photograph was found
dead on the shore of Albert Nyanza by Sir Frederick Jackson,
and was estimated at considerably over a hundred pounds,
but such a prize must not be expected by the bird-of-passage.
Indeed, I thought myself lucky, being limited to three days
on the lake, to catch specimens of 30 and 49 lb., both on the
same big wobbling spoon that answered so well at Mombasa.
I found the big perch most in evidence in the shallow water
in shore, particularly opposite two solitary palms some little
way back from the water-side. A speed of three or four knots
is ample, and there is no difficulty in hooking your fish, as
it goes off with a terrific rush and then, while being reeled
to the gaff, actually stands, as it were, on its tail, by way, I
imagine, of offering the maximum of resistance, somewhat
after the fashion in which flatfish curve their bodies when
being hauled to the surface.

The tiger-fish {Hydrocyon forskalii), or nkasa, which has
not apparently been recorded much over ten or twelve pounds
(Colonel Morrison, fishing with Sir Frederick just after my
visit, had one of 11 lb.), dashes at the bait even more fiercely,
and jumps out of water like a trout, which it further resembles
in the possession of an adipose fin. Its teeth, however,
are more like those of a bulldog, and it has an antiquarian
interest, being, as I have found from ancient Egyptian

X 321

AFTER BIG GAME

paintings at Beni-Hassan and elsewhere, one of the oldest
Nile fish represented in art. Reference has been made to the
successful expedition made by H.E. the Governor of Uganda,
whose best perch weighed 40 lb., and a word may, in con-
clusion, be said of an even more remarkable success attained,
two months or more afterwards, by ]Mr Grey, who like myself
proceeded to the lake from Jinja. He stayed several weeks
on the spot, and in that time managed to catch 28 perch of
a total weight of 764 lb., the best of them weighing 64 lb.,
and he seems to have done best with a natural bait (tiger-
fish) of about a pound on a tree with two triangles.

Although a boat is necessary, I had some sport with the
small tiger-fish, averaging a pound, from the pier, throwing
an old salmon-fly and getting a rise at each cast. One of
the Governor's party, baiting with a tiger-fish of a pound,
actually caught from the pier a perch of 15| lb. The water
round Butiaba is alive with fish that present no difficulty,
being absolutely uneducated and without fear. Unfortun-
ately, crocodiles are also numerous, and bathing is out of the
question, however tempting the shallow water may look in
hot weather.

Here end these few notes on the fisherman's opportunities
in Equatorial Africa. He may go to India for mahseer, or
to Canada for salmon, trout and black bass ; but in no other
quarter of the Empu'c, I think, can he enjoy the same variety
of big game of sea, river and lake as in the Protectorate,
in a brief visit to which my first fish weighed 55 lb., and my
last 49 lb., as good a brace as most of us can claim in a
lifetime.

322

INDEX

Aberuare mountains, 204, 209, 216,
247, 250, 254 ; fishing in, 317

Agriculture, 19, 296-311 ; native, 273

Albert Nyanza, fishing in, 320-322

Amboni river, 118

Ants, 284, 285

Arab architecture, 49

Arabs, 53, 72-74, 258

Archer's Post, 114, 148, 181, 1S9,
190

Arts, native, 84, 270, 275, 276

Askari, 109

Athi, 13; plains, 15; river, 16, 197

B

Baboons, 217

Bagamoyo, 78

Baggara, 321

Bamboo, 29

Banana, 29, 39

Baobab, 7, 9, 48, 59

Barbel, 318, 319

Barghash, 71, 72

Barracouta, 61, 315

Bathing in Africa, 146

Bat Island, 75

Beans, 302

Beisa oryx, 119, 201

Birds, 32, 33, 42, 43, 211, 212; their

song, 213, 230, 231, 239; carrion

birds, 124
Blackwater fever, 282
" Blue Posts," 115, 196
Boats, native, 73
Bohor reed-buck, 210
Boma, 156, 159, 163, 169, 191, 192,

231-234, 238, 240,241
Bongo, 131
Bonilo, 315
Borans, 150, 190
Bougainvillea, 48
Boys, native, 62-64, '92
Bright's gazelle, 183, 184, 194
Bruce, Sir David, 287, 288
Buffalo, 120, 126, 143, 150-153, 198,

199, 218-220, 248, 249

Bukoli, 37

Burchell's zebra, 121

Burial customs, 264, 272

Bush-buck, 126, 210

Busoga, 37, 44

Bustard, 194, 227

Butiaba, 329

Butterflies, 127, 219, 237, 247, 248

Camel, 20, 22, 99

Campi Beridi, 195

Campi Nyana, 207

Campi Sanduku, 194

Campi Tinga Tinga, 194

Canoe, native, 36

Carrion birds, 124

Castellani, Dr, 288

Castor oil seed, 302

Cattle, 21, 25, 38

Cattle-rearing, 308, 309

Cedars, 127

Chaba, Mount, 184

Chania river, 115

Chanler, Mr VV. A., 114

Chanler's Falls, 186

Chanler's reed-buck, 208, 210

Cheetah, 227

Chigoe, 97, 283, 2S4

Chime bird, 213

Chuaka, 67, 68

Church Missionary Society, 39

Climate, 18, 75, 299, 300

Clothing, native, 10, 15, 26, 54, 261,

273
Clove, 68

Coast lands, 297, 298
Cobra, 294
Cockroach, 294

Cocoanut-palm, 48, 59, 302, 303
Coffee, 19, 83, 305-307
Coke's hartebeest, 120
Colobus monkey, 32, 127
Concal, 230
Cook, safari, 1 10
Copra, 83, 302
Cormorant, 41
Cotton, 19, 83, 305

323

INDEX

Crane, 33, 43, 2ii

Cricket, 58

Crocodile, 36, 43, 148, 186, 322

Cuckoo, 42

Cunninghame, Mr R. J., 105

Dance, native, 55, 131, 267, 274;

lion-dance, 179, 180, 244
Dar-es-Salaam, 77-85
Date-palm, 128
Dernberg, Herr, 83, 84
Dhow, 72

Diet, native, 263, 266, 267, 269
Dik-dik, 150, 187 ; varieties of, 188
Doctoring on safari, 122, 167
Dog, 25 ; native, 83
Dom-palm, 145
Donkey, 20, 73, 309; "Jeremy

Taylor," 213, 247
Dourie, 217
Dove, 231
Duck-shooting, 237
Duirs, 105^; his lions, 242-244
Dunga, 67
Durian, 68
Dysentery, 300

E

Eagle, 32

East Coast fever, 282, 283

Education, native, 87

Eland, 121, 131, 201, 214, 228

El Bolossat, Lake, 208-210, 251, 253

Elmenteita, 33

Entebbe, 37, 38, 320

Escarpment station, 30

Estella market, 71

Eucalyptus, 30

Euphorbia, 9

Ferns, 219, 223

Fires, grass, 209-216

Fish eagle, 42

Fishing, 61, 313-322; native, 271

Flies, 285-294

Fly disease, 287-294

Forest scenery, 127, 250

Fort Hall, 114-116

Francolin, 194, 227, 231

Frangipani, 7

Frere Town, 46

Fruit-growing, 301

Game country, 13, 206, 235, 236

Game meat, 105

Geese, 235, 238

Gerenuk, 144, 149, 169, 184, 187-189

German East Africa, 77-91

Gharry, 51, 52

Giant perch, 321

Gil-Gil, 33, 203, 254

Ginger (dog), 186, 211, 221, 222

Giraffe, 13, 194, 201

Glossina, 289, 290

Goanese, 49

Gold mohur-tree, 59

Golf, 19, 40, 59, 86

Gorge camp, 142

Grant's gazelle, 13, 140, 142, 148, 184,

186, 187, 225, 227, 242; varieties

of, 183
Grave Island, 75
Greetings, native, 263, 264
Grevy's zebra, 121, 169
Ground nut, 302
Grouse, sand, 194
Guaso Narok river, 114
Guaso Nyiro river, 114, 145 ; safari to,

114-197
Guinea-fowl, 43, 194, 227, 231
Gun-bearers, 108
Gura, 317

H

Hammer-headed stork, 211

Hannington, Bishop, 50

Hartebeest, 120, 195. See also

Kongoni
Head-dress, native, 25, 265, 271
Headman, 107
Heron, 211
Highlands, 298

Hippopotamus, 36, 42, 186, 210
Hirtzel, Mr, 200, 201
Honey, 83
Hornbill, 219
Horse, 20, 25
Houses, native, 79
Hunting, native, 275
Hutton, 114, 125, 133, 136, 141, 167,

183
Hyajna, 144, 145, 159, 170, I73. ^74,
218, 232, 240, 241

Impala, 32, 125, 126, 147-150, 187,
225, 227 ; shot with gerenuk, 168

324

INDEX

Indian traders, 21, 22, 49, 71, 278-280

Insect pests, 97, 281-295

Isiola river, 147, 149, 150, 154, 168, 194

J

Jackal, 13, 23, 173, 184, 208, 215,

216, 221, 227, 229, 253
Jackson's hartebeest. See Kongoni
Jigger, 97, 283, 284
Jinja, 40, 41, 320
Jinja fly, 286, 287
Junction camp, 145
Juniper, 32, 127

K

Kamiti, 115

Kampala, 37-40

Kavirondo, 15, 258, 270-272

Kavirondo crane, 33

Kavirondo, Gulf of, 35

Kenia, 15, 18, 29, 114, 118, 126, 194,

216, 225, 227, 247, 250, 251
Kestrel, 42
Kiboko, 108
Kigomo, 84
Kijabe, 31
Kikuyu, 28, 203 ; the people, 28, 103,

258, 272
Kilima Njaro, 18, 197, 200
Kilindini, 8, 46, 255
Kimaa, 14
Kingfisher, 42
Kisumu, 34
Kite, 32, 42

Klipspringer, 124, 140, 208
Koch, Dr, 37, 283, 291, 293
Koli koli, 61, 315
Kongoni, 13, 115, 119, 120, 183, 205,

206, 208, 215, 218, 221, 251, 253
Kraal, native, 262
Kudu, 121, 123, 139, 199, 200
Kungu fly, 293
Kystume, 37

Labour, native, 21, 43, 44, 82, 300,

301, 310, 311
Laikipia plains, 32 ; safari to, 202-255
Lake lands, 298
Land, purchase of, 299
Lari swamp, 30
Leeswara 195
Leopard, 17, 206, 215, 216 ; habits of,

.'93
Limoru, 29, 30
Linseed, 302

Lions, 128, 157/; 170 #, 185, 225;
attack railwaymen, 14; habits of,
129; length of stride, 145; methods
of hunting, 154-156 ; in cover, 158 ;
size of, 161-163 ; tastes in food, 164,
165 ; superstition regarding, 165 ;
habits in eating, 171 ; following
hunters, 172; roar of, 176; five for
five cartridges, 178; photographed
charging, 191

Lone Hill, 142

Longonot, Mount, 30, 32, 254

Lorian swamp, 114

Lugard, Captain, 39

Lukwata, 36

M

Machakos, 16

Mactow, 200

Maize, 302

Makinde, 115

Makindi, 120, 121, 126, 130, 194;

river, 142
Malaria, 281, 282, 300
Malindi, 198
Mamba, 294
Mamoula, Mount, 185
" Man-Eaters of Tsavo, The," 13
Mango, 9, 59
Mangrove, 9, 48
Manyema, 103

Marabout stork, 32, 115, 211, 242, 252
Masai, 28, 32, 182, 259-264, 26S
Mau Escarpment, 7, 30, 33
Maungu, 198
Mazeras, 9
Mengo Hill, 39
Meru, 114, 136; Trading Company,

181, 182
Mill Hill Mission, 39
Mimosa, 9, 32, 145
Mirage, 209
Mir Ali Bey, 52
Missionary stations, 39
Mombasa, 8, 45-64, 255, 315, 316
Monkey, 32, 127
Monpara, 107
Morogoro, 84
Moschi, 200
Mosques, 50
Mosquitoes, 281, 282
Motoring, 20, 116, 196, 200, 201
Muhesa, 89
Muhugu, 29
Mukoni, 37
Mule killed by leopard, 122; joined

safari, 125
Muru, 1 18
Mwethia, 30

325

INDEX

N

Nairobi, 16-27, ii4> 196, 197, 201,

202, 255
Naivasha, 32 ; Lake, 204, 254
Nakasero Hill, 39

Nakuru, 255 ; Lake, 24 ; Show, 22-27
Namagasali, 41, 44
Namanga Hill, 188, 189
Namirembe Hill, 39
Nandi, 257, 265, 268-270, 283
Narok river, 235
Native peoples, 257-280
Ndaragu, 115

Neumann's hartebeest, 120
Newman, 150

Ngara Ngara river, 142, 145
N'goma, 55
Ngong Hills, 28
Nguru, 316
Nicolas, Mr, 181, 182, 184, 189, 192,

194
Nile, 41, 42
Nubi, 107, 108, 184
Nyeri, 116, 196
Nysambya Hill, 39
Nyuki river, 118, 119

Poullry, 24, 25
Prison Island, 75
Puft'-adder, 24, 295
Python, 294

R

Racing, 19

Rainfall, 19

Ramadan, 53

Ramasan, 108, 109, 237, 244, 253

Ras Serani, 52

Red-water, 282, 283

Reed-buck, 208, 210

Rhinoceros, 130, 133-13S. I37. 13S.

140, 141, 184, 185, 187-189, 218,

219
Rickshaw, 28, 37, 38, 40
Rift Valley, the Great, 6, 30, 31
Rinderpest, 283

Ripon Falls, 41 ; fishing at, 318, 319
Roads, 39

Rongai river, 115, 196
Rubaga Hill, 39
Rubber, 82, 88, 89, 307, 308
Rumuruti, 223-225, 246

O

Ophthalmia, 262

Orchids, 9, 219, 223

Ornaments, native, 28, 54, 70, 261,

269, 273
Oryx, 119, 120, 148, 187, 200, 228,

229 ; O. Callotis, 197, 201
Ostrich, 13, 32, 205, 215, 253, 310

Palm, 9, 48, 59, 128, 145, 302, 303

Papaw, 59

Parrots, 217, 219

Passion flower, 17

Patterson, Col. J. H., 13

Pease, Sir A. E., 145, 155, 161

Perch, giant, 321

Pigs, 25, 310

Plague, 281

Plantain eater, 217, 230

Polo, 19

Polyandry, 262

Portal, Sir Gerald, 37

Porters, native, 102, 103, iii, 117,

136, 183, 225
Port Florence, 34
Port Reitz, 46
Posho, 106

Saddle-billed stork, 211

Safari, as a mode of travel, 93-113 ; a

day on, 111-113
Samburu, 147, 150, 265
Sandflies, 286
Sand grouse, 194
Scarification, 270
Scorpion, 294
Selous, Mr, 146, 165
Sem-sem, 302
Serengetti plains, 197, 202
Serval cat, 23, 207
Servants, native, 62-64
Sesse Archipelago, 36, 290
Shambas, 72, 73
Sheep, 25, 308
Shimba Hills, 46
Siafu ants, 285
Simba, 6, 7
Siron, 250

Sisal, 9, 82, 88, 303, 304
Slave trade, 72

Sleeping sickness, 37, 281, 288-293
Smallpox, 281
Snakes, 24, 208, 294, 295
Somali, 103, 257, 277 ; herdsmen, 222-

224, 229
Songari Hill, 196
Spotted fever, 281

326

INDEX

Steinbuck, 142, 20S, 219, 247

Stock-raising, 30S

Stork, 42, 211

Strawberry, 30

Suk, 25, 258, 265-267

Sultan Mahmud, 11

Swahili, 74, 103, 257, 266, 267

Swamp Camp, 194

Syce, no; wounded, 122

Taboro, 84

Tanga, 85-91

Tanganyika Railway, 84

Tangesi, 61

Taru desert, 10, 99

Taveta, 200

Tengini, 81

Tennis, 19

Termites, 284, 285

Thika river, 115

Thomson's Falls, 251

Thomson's gazelle, 13, 115, 148, 207,

234
Thorns, 142
Tick bird, 38
Tick fever, 282
Ticks, 128, 282, 2S3
Tiger-fish, 321, 322
Tobacco, 19, 83
Touraco, 217, 230
Tree fern, 29
Trout-fishing, 317
Trypanosoma, 2S7-292
Tsavo, 13, 197
Tsetse fly, 286-294
Tunguya, 29
Turkana, 25, 258, 265-267

Uganda, possibilities of, 43, 44
Uganda Railway, 5-15, 99, 297
Ukamba, 274
Ulu, 14

Vasco da Gama, 45

Victoria Nyanza, Lake, 27-44 ; fishing

in, 320
Voi, 10, 197, 201
Voi and Tsavo, safari to, 197-201
Vultures, 23, 32, 208, 209, 211, 242,

252

W

Waganda, 36
Wagons, safari, 203
Wakamba, 274
Waller's gazelle, 149
Wandorobo, 119, 249, 275, 276
Wanyamwesi, 103
Warthog, 205, 206, 252, 253
Water-buck, 137, 146, 186, 187, 211,

225, 242, 253
Waterfall, 214, 251
Wattle, 29, 304, 305
Wayamba, 103
Weapons, native, 260
Weaver birds, 229, 230
Weaving, native, 84
Wheat, 301, 302
White Fathers, 39
Witchcraft, 274

Women, Arab, 74 ; native, 30, 260^
WycoUia Hill, 1S6 ; Swamp, 185

Uasin Gishu plateau, 283
Uasin Narok river, 223

Zanzibar, 65-76

Zebra, 13, 20, 32, 33, 121, 144, 169,

214, 221
Zodiacal light, 48

327

THE RIVBRSIDH PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH

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