Transcriber’s Note:

Footnotes have been moved to follow the paragraphs in which they are referenced. Photographic illustrations are also moved to fall on paragraph breaks.

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please see the transcriber’s [note] at the end of this text for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.

Any corrections are indicated using an underline highlight. Placing the cursor over the correction will produce the original text in a small popup.

A map at the end of the text serves as a link to a larger version for closer inspection of details of the Wa-Kikuyu territory.

Any corrections are indicated as hyperlinks, which will navigate the reader to the corresponding entry in the corrections table in the note at the end of the text.

A WHITE KING

IN EAST AFRICA

JOHN BOYES

A WHITE KING
IN EAST AFRICA

THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF JOHN BOYES, TRADER AND SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, WHO BECAME KING OF THE SAVAGE WA-KIKUYU

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF

EDITED BY

C. W. L. BULPETT

WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP

NEW YORK

McBRIDE, NAST & COMPANY

1912

(All rights reserved.)

TO

WILLIAM NORTHROP McMILLAN

IN MEMORY OF MANY

TRAMPS TOGETHER

EDITOR’S PREFACE

The following pages describe a life of adventure in the more remote parts of Africa—adventures such as the explorer and sportsmen do not generally encounter. The man to whom the episodes narrated in this book refer has been personally known to me for ten years. We have hunted big game and explored together many a time in the African jungle; and as it is principally at my instigation that he has put the following account of his experiences into writing, I think it is due to him and to the public that I should make known my responsibility in the matter.

It seemed to me that the adventures John Boyes underwent were something quite out of the common; in these matter-of-fact days they may be said to be almost unique. In the days of exploration and discovery, when Captain Cook and such heroes lived and thrived, they were perhaps common enough; but every year the opportunities of such adventure get more and more remote, and as the uttermost parts of the earth are brought under the influence of civilization will become ever more impossible. For this reason alone a story such as told here seems to be worth recording.

There is no attempt at literary style. The man tells his tale in a simple, matter-of-fact way, and, as his Editor, I have thought it better from every point of view to leave his words as he has written them.

The reader will judge for himself as to the interest of the adventures here related, but I think any one will admit that no ordinary force of character was necessary to carry them through to a successful issue. The whole life of the author during the time he was a wanderer in the Kikuyu country, and later while he was practically supreme ruler of the tribe—a tribe numbering half a million of people—was one of imminent daily risk.

Each hour he went about with his life in his hands, and if he came out scatheless from the mêlée, he has only to thank his courage, nerve, and resource. All these qualities he obviously possessed in a high degree.

He appears to have been harshly treated by the British East Africa authorities. Doubtless much that he did was grossly misrepresented to them by more or less interested parties. He certainly did yeoman’s service to the colony in its early days by opening up an unknown and hostile country which lay right on the borderland of the Uganda Railway, at that time in course of construction. His energetic action enabled the coolies on the line to work safe from many hostile attacks. He supplied them with the food without which they would have starved—all for a very small reward, and at great personal risk to himself. But the love of adventure was in him, and such people do not work for profit alone. The life itself brings its own reward.

An impartial observer will perhaps be able to understand the point of view of the British Administration, and will appreciate their difficulty, indeed their ability, to allow an independent white power to rule beside their own; but the public will judge for themselves whether they set about to do what they did with regard to John Boyes in the most tactful way, or whether they treated a brave fellow-countryman in the manner he deserved.

C. W. L. B.

August, 1911.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

JOHN BOYES, KING OF THE WA-KIKUYU

CHAPTER I

Early youth—I run away to sea on a fishing-boat—Hardships of the life—Take service on a tugboat—Life on board a tramp—First view of tropical African coast—A collision at sea—Land at Durban, 1895

This book is simply an attempt to set down, in a plain and straightforward manner, some account of the various experiences and adventures of the author during a period of some fifteen years spent in hunting, trading, and exploring, principally on the eastern side of the African continent. The title has been suggested by some episodes in the narrative, the main facts of which are within the recollection of many of the white men now in British East Africa. These episodes caused somewhat of a stir at the time, and the author had to stand his trial before the local courts on a capital charge as a direct consequence of the facts here narrated.

I was born at Hull, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, on 11 May, 1874, so that at the time of writing this book I am still a comparatively young man. I lived there with my parents until I was six years of age, when I was sent to Germany to be educated at the little town of Engelfingen, where my parents had some relatives living, and it was here that I received all the schooling I have ever had. This early education has left its mark on me, and even at the present day I sometimes find it difficult to express myself correctly in English—a fact, I hope, an indulgent public will take into consideration.

At the age of thirteen my schooling in Germany ended, and I returned home to my parents, who wished me to continue my school-days in Hull, as I had received no English education whatever; but I strongly objected to going to school again, and, evading their efforts to control me, spent most of my time about the docks, watching the vessels in and out.

By this time my mind was bent on a seafaring life, and I lost no opportunity of scraping acquaintance with sailors from the different ships, whose tales of the various countries they had visited and the strange sights they had seen fired my imagination and made me more determined than ever to follow the sea.

I practically lived on the docks, and one of my greatest delights was to pilot a boat round them, or to get some of my many friends among the sailors to allow me to help with odd jobs about a vessel, such as cleaning up the decks or polishing the brasswork; and I was fully determined to get away to sea at the first opportunity.

My keenest desire, at this time, was to enter the Navy, but my parents would not hear of my going to sea, and without their consent I could not be accepted, so that idea had to be abandoned. I was determined to be a sailor, however, and kept my eyes open for a chance of getting away on one of the fishing-vessels sailing out of Hull, among which were still many of the old sailing-boats, which have now been almost entirely displaced by the steam-trawlers. When I had been at home about six months the longed-for chance came. I got to know that one of the trawlers was to sail at a very early hour one morning, so, stealing out of the house before any of the other members of the family were about, I made my way down to the docks. This being before the days of the large tonnage steam-trawlers, the vessels carried only about five hands, and finding that the boat on which I had set my mind was in need of a cook and cabin-boy, I offered my services, and was duly signed on. My knowledge of the work was nil, but, to my surprise and delight, the captain asked no awkward questions, and I found myself enrolled as a member of the crew of my first ship, which was bound for the North Sea fishing-grounds, and was expected to be away for about three months.

I was very seasick on this first voyage—the only time in my life that I have ever suffered from that complaint—and the life proved less attractive than I had expected. In those days the lads on the fishing-boats were very badly treated, and though I had not so much to complain of in this respect, I found it a very trying life at the best. The work itself was very hard, and I was liable to be called up at any hour of the day or night to prepare hot coffee or do anything that any member of the crew wanted me to do.

It was on this voyage that I had a very narrow escape of being drowned in a gale which we encountered. We had taken in the second reef of the mainsail, which hung over like a huge hammock, and I was ordered aloft to perform the operation known as reefing the lacing. As I was crawling along the sail a heavy sea struck the ship, carrying the boom over to the weather side, which caused the sail to flap over and pitch me head first into the sea. Fortunately for me, the accident was witnessed by the crew, one of whom seized a boathook, and, as I came within reach, managed to catch me by the belt, and so succeeded in hauling me on board again, feeling very miserable and, of course, drenched to the skin, but otherwise none the worse for my adventure.

With this exception, there was little out of the ordinary in my life on the trawler, unless I mention an experience I had when we were lying off the then British island of Heligoland.

It was the custom for the captains of the various boats to go ashore all together, in one boat, on Sundays, and the crew also often took advantage of the opportunity of a run ashore. One Sunday they had all gone ashore, leaving me in sole charge of the ship, my principal duties being to prepare the dinner and stoke the boiler of the donkey-engine so as to keep steam up ready for hauling up the anchor at a moment’s notice. Soon after they had gone some lads came off in a shore-boat, and as I could speak German we were soon on the best of terms, and of course I had to give them biscuits and show them round the ship. So engrossed was I with my new-found friends that I forgot all about the boiler, until I noticed a strong smell of burning. We all raced to the engine-room, to find that the boiler was red hot and had set fire to the woodwork round it. Not knowing what else to do, we chopped away the woodwork and threw it overboard, and so prevented the fire spreading. Scenting trouble ahead, my friends took to their boat and cleared out, while I decided that it would be wise to disappear for a time also, and so hid myself in a part of the ship where I thought I was least likely to be found. The captain made a big fuss when he discovered the damage, and I heard him calling loudly for me, but I thought it would be wise to remain out of sight until he had had time to cool down; so I stayed where I was, turning up again next morning. He did not say much when I appeared, probably because he thought awkward questions might be asked if any bother was made as to why a youngster like myself had been left in sole charge of the vessel.

I returned to Hull after six months with the fishing fleet, fairly sick of life on a trawler, and with my mind made up to try for something better in the seafaring line.

My great idea was to get abroad and see something of the world, and I should, so I thought, stand a better chance of doing this if I went to Liverpool and tried to get a ship there. Having no money—my entire worldly possessions consisted, at this time, of a few spare clothes—I set out to walk the whole distance from Hull.

For a lad of fifteen this was no light undertaking, but, as in other instances in my career, the very difficulties only seemed to make the idea more attractive; so I started boldly off. Having no very clear idea of the route to be followed, I made for York, and then continued my journey by way of Leeds and Manchester. I had no money, so, to procure the little food I could allow myself, I pawned my spare clothes at different places on my way, and helped out my scanty meals with an occasional raw turnip or carrot; and though I had to go on rather short commons towards the end of my journey, I managed to get through without being reduced to begging. Of course I had nothing to spare for lodgings, and used to sleep out during the day, continuing my journey at night, and as it was early in the year—about the beginning of May—I found the cold at times bitter, but this was my greatest hardship.

After a rather weary journey I eventually arrived in Liverpool, very footsore but in good spirits, and finding a lodging-house in the sea-men’s quarter of the town, kept by an old sailor who was willing to take me in on trust until I got a ship, I took up my quarters there, agreeing to repay him as soon as I got a berth.

I still had a strong inclination for the Navy, so I applied at the recruiting office, but, as I could not show my parents’ consent, they refused to accept me, and I had to look elsewhere. At last I got a berth on a tugboat, called the Knight of St. John, which was going out to Rotterdam to tow a barque, the Newman Hall, into Liverpool.

While at Rotterdam I managed to get into another scrape, but, fortunately, it was not a very serious one, though I suffered some discomfort. It was known on board that I could speak German well, so I was sent ashore to buy cigars and tobacco for the officers and crew. I must have been longer away than they expected, as when I got back to the quay the boat was gone. Having no money left, I was in a fix for a night’s lodging, until I noticed a small wooden hut on the beach, apparently unoccupied, so, taking shelter in this, I made myself as comfortable as possible and went to sleep. On waking the next morning I was astonished to find the shanty surrounded by water. It turned out to be a hut built for the use of bathers, and at high tide was always surrounded by the sea; consequently I had to stay where I was and wait more or less patiently until the tide went down far enough to enable me to wade ashore. While I was wondering what to do next I saw the tug coming along close inshore, and shouting until I attracted attention, I was soon aboard again.

Having got our tow-line aboard the barque, we started on our return journey to Liverpool, but had scarcely got clear of land before it commenced to blow heavily, and the sea became so rough that we had to part company with the barque, which, fortunately, drifted back to Rotterdam, while we found ourselves with only sufficient coal to take us into Dover.

I did not stop long with the tug, as I came to the conclusion that there was little chance of getting on in my profession if I was content to simply knock about from ship to ship. If I was ever to get an officer’s certificate, I must start by getting a berth as A.B. (able seaman), in an ocean-going ship, so that I could put in the four years’ regular sea service which I should have to show before going up for my certificate, of which at least twelve months had to be on a sailing ship trading to foreign ports. I therefore looked out for a suitable berth, and at last shipped on a barque, the Lake Simcoe, trading to South America.

I had, as usual, my share of incident during the voyage.

Whilst trading in Brazil, we made a trip up the River Amazon, during which I got a touch of yellow fever, and on arriving at Laguna[Laguna], where we had to take some logwood on board, I was put ashore to go into hospital. I do not know what alterations have been made since I was there, but at that time the hospital was a gloomy enough building, with heavily barred slits in the wall for windows, and used indifferently as hospital, lunatic asylum, and gaol, while the strong resemblance to a prison was heightened by the fact that the place was always guarded by a detachment of soldiers.

The hospital arrangements were disgusting and reckless, no regard being paid either to sanitation or the prevention of infection. All manner of diseases were mixed indiscriminately in the same ward, while the duties of orderlies and attendants on the patients were undertaken by some of the more harmless among the lunacy cases!

One gruesome discovery which I made soon after my entry was that the establishment possessed only one coffin, which had to do duty for each fatal case in turn, being made with a sliding bottom, which reduced the work of lowering the corpse into the grave to a minimum. When a case ended fatally, the corpse was placed in this coffin—which was always kept in the ward—and taken out for burial, the coffin being afterwards returned to its place in the hospital, in full view of the other patients! As there were generally three or four funerals every day, it may be easily imagined that the effect on those left behind was not the most cheering.

One other custom in the hospital struck me as very peculiar. When a patient became very bad the attendant generally gave him a spoonful of a substance which, from the smell, I have since thought must have been opium. Whether or not this was merely given to relieve pain I cannot say: I only know that the patient invariably died soon after taking it.

One day the spoon was brought to me, so I asked the attendant, one of the harmless lunatics, to place it on the table by my bedside. Occupying the adjoining pallet was a Brazilian soldier, who, waking up in the night, asked if he might have the stuff in the spoon, as he was in terrible pain. Thinking it might relieve him, I made no objection, and he eagerly swallowed the lot. The next morning he was dead!

After this experience, I was anxious to get out of my present quarters as rapidly as possible, and a chance came a day or two afterwards of which I at once took advantage. It happened to be Sunday, and my bed being close to one of the slits which served for windows, I heard the voices of some of the crew of the Lake Simcoe outside. I at once shouted to attract their attention, and begged them to get me out of this awful hole. Recognising my voice, they threw themselves on the soldiers guarding the place, and, after a struggle, managed to get in, and carried me off. I was fearfully weak, and scarcely able to stand, but they managed to get me aboard ship at last, where, with proper attention, I soon recovered.

On the homeward voyage we had terribly rough weather in the Atlantic, and the ship became top-heavy, listing to such an extent that the fore-yard-arms were practically in the water the whole time. For days we were drenched to the skin with the big seas which broke over the vessel continually, and the hull being practically under water, I wrapped myself in a blanket—having no dry clothing left—and kept my watch seated on the mast, which dipped in and out of the water with every roll of the ship.

To add to our misfortune, scurvy broke out very badly among the crew, owing to the wretched quality of the food, and, altogether, we were very thankful when we at last made Falmouth harbour.

Shortly after my return I joined the Royal Naval Reserve, in which I had to put in a month’s drill every year, as I was still bent on getting into the Navy, if possible, and I thought that, if I could work my way up to a Lieutenancy in the Reserve, I might manage it that way.

By this time I had done my twelve months in a sailing ship; so, by shipping on steamers trading to different parts, I was able to visit many interesting places. For twelve months I was on a boat trading between the various ports on the coast of India, and on another voyage was in a ship taking pilgrims from Port Said to Jedda. Our passengers on this voyage were chiefly Arabs and Turks on their way to Mecca. For another trip I shipped in one of the Royal Niger Company’s boats, and we went up the West Coast of Africa with trading goods, chiefly old flint-lock rifles and gunpowder. We also had on board two or three white men, who were going on an exploring trip into the interior.

I was very much impressed with this part of the world, the tropical scenery was so magnificent on either side of the rivers, while I was intensely interested in the natives who came down to trade with the ship. I made up my mind that I would go into the interior myself some day, and get to know more about the country and its people. As it turned out, a good many things were to happen before this intention was carried out.

During this trip I contracted malarial fever, and not being able to shake it off, had to go into hospital at Rotterdam on our return. On my recovery I spent some time on coasting vessels trading out to Guernsey, and one night, when we had put into Dungeness, through stress of weather, I had another startling experience.

Roused out of my sleep—it was my watch below—by a shout of “All hands on deck!” I rushed up, just in time to see another ship coming directly towards us. We shouted, but she kept on her course, and in a few seconds crashed into us. Apparently everybody lost their heads at once, and a scene of utter confusion followed, nobody appearing to know what to do. I saw that the yards of the two vessels had become entangled, and expected every minute to see them fall, and crush the boat, which was stowed away on deck; so I made my way to the poop, and shouted to the crew to get the boat out at once. So great was the confusion that it is almost impossible to say what really happened. I only know that I eventually found myself in a boat with only one other man, and as we pulled off we saw the ship which had done the mischief apparently drifting away. Pulling to her, we managed to scramble aboard, and, to our great surprise, found that there was not a single soul on board, and we then remembered seeing her crew jumping on board our vessel at the time of the collision. Everything was in apple-pie order, and the lamp lit, and we could not find anything the matter with the ship, so that her crew must have been seized with a sudden fit of panic, and abandoned her in their fright. We were on board just in time to steer her clear of a steamer, and then we dropped anchor. The following morning her crew returned on board, looking rather foolish, and we were transferred to our own vessel, which was then towed to London.

I put in a claim on account of salvage, and after a good deal of delay, found that the owners had settled for salvage, demurrage, and loss with the captain of the barque, who was also the owner. I had left the ship when we reached London, but happened to meet the captain later on in Hull, when he invited me to accompany him to Guernsey, to see about my share of the salvage money. At the last minute I found that I could not go, so he promised to write me on the matter, but on the homeward voyage his boat was lost, and he went down with it, so the letter never arrived. Although very disappointed at the loss of my expected windfall, I was very glad I had not been able to go with the captain, or I should have lost my life as well.

Since my last voyage I had been working up for my certificate, attending a Navigation School on Prince’s Dock Side, in Hull: but I was doomed to disappointment, as, when I came to be medically examined, the doctor found that my eyesight was affected, and could not pass me. This was the result of the yellow fever from which I had suffered in Brazil.

After this I had to give up all hopes of the sea as a career, unless I was willing to remain before the mast all my life, and that was by no means my idea; so my thoughts turned to Africa, and I remembered the impression made on my mind by the little I had already seen of it, and the attraction which the idea of its huge unexplored districts had always had for me since my school-days, and I decided to see what I could do out there.

Being again at the end of my money, the only way I could get there was by working my passage, and as I could not get a berth in any boat going from Hull, I went to London, and being successful, landed at Durban, in Natal, just after the Jameson Raid.

CHAPTER II

I work my way up-country to Matabeleland—Employed as fireman on an engine—Reach Johannesburg—Trek the rest of the way to Bulawayo—Take service in the Matabeleland Mounted Police—Join the Africander Corps engaged in putting down the rebellion—Go into trade in Bulawayo—Return to the coast—I take to the stage—Work my way on an Arab dhow to Mombasa, February, 1898—Cool official reception

Learning that the Matabele War had broken out, I made every effort to get up to the front; but as I had had no previous experience, the military authorities would not take me on. However, I was determined to get to Bulawayo somehow, and with this idea made a start by taking the train for Pietermaritzburg, having just enough funds left to pay the fare. On arriving I was lucky enough to get a job to look after the engine and boiler at a steam bakery, and with the money I thus earned I was able to move on, a fortnight later, to Charlestown. I had now just enough money to pay for a night’s lodging, and the next morning I crossed the boundary between Natal and the Transvaal, and moved on to Volksrust, getting a glimpse of the famous Majuba Hill on my journey.

Of course, I was open to take any job that offered, and it so happened that I was lucky enough to get one that very morning, as fireman on the railway.

On applying at the station, I was asked if I was experienced in the work, and having just left a steam bakery, and remembering my experience with the trawler’s donkey engine, I modestly said that I was, and was duly engaged and told to get on the engine of the mail train for Standerton, which was standing in the station, ready to start, and get on with the work.

The driver was a Hollander who spoke very little English, which fact I looked upon as a stroke of luck, as he would be less likely to ask awkward questions. He did ask me if I had done any firing before, and I gave him the same answer as I had given to the official on the platform. He soon put me to a practical test when, looking at the gauge glass, he told me to turn on the pump to fill the boiler. I had not the slightest idea where the pump was, but, noticing that, as he gave the order he looked at a handle which was sticking out, I promptly seized that, and began working it vigorously up and down. He at once began to shout, and I found that I had made a mistake, the handle only having to be lifted to a certain point, and then a tap turned on. Seeing that the driver seemed to expect some explanation of my mistake, I remarked that the arrangement was different from those I had been used to, which was perfectly true, and this seemed to satisfy him, as he merely said that I should, no doubt, get used to it in time.

But I was fated to exhibit my ignorance still further before we started.

I was looking over the side of the engine, when the driver gave an order which I failed to understand, being engaged in watching the antics of an official on the platform, who was waving his arms and gesticulating wildly. He looked so funny that I burst out laughing, and the more I laughed the wilder he got. In the meantime the driver was grumbling, and came across to find out the cause of my laughter, and, seeing the man on the platform, turned on me, and asked why I had not reported the signal to start? It then suddenly dawned upon me that the order that had been given me was to watch for “Right away,” but his English was so funny that I thought he wanted me to look out for some friend he expected.

As Standerton was two hundred miles on my way to Bulawayo, I had thought of leaving the train there, but my clothes had got so dirty and greasy that I thought it best to stay on a little longer, until I had saved enough money to get some more clothes and help me on my way to Johannesburg.

This particular engine proved to be one of the hardest for firing on the whole line, and I soon found that I had got the job because no one else would take it, and after a fortnight on it I was so knocked up that I decided to take a few days off, but on applying for my pay I was told that I should have to go to Standerton to get it. This suited my book exactly, and the idea entered my head, “Why not get a free pass to Johannesburg?” as they had given me one to Standerton, to draw my money. So when I drew the money the officials at Standerton were somewhat startled when I demanded a free pass to Johannesburg. They seemed to think I was crazy, but I quickly assured them that I was perfectly sane and meant to have the pass before I left the office.

They stormed and threatened, but seeing that I did not mean to budge, they finally gave me the pass, with the remark that the English were always so stupid and obstinate.

Getting some fresh clothes, I boarded the train, and at last arrived in Johannesburg. Here I found that most of the men in the town fire brigade were sailors, so I soon made friends, and had hopes of getting into the brigade, but after waiting a day or two, and seeing no prospect of an opening, I was advised to walk round the mines to see if I could get anything to do there, but there were plenty of others on the same job, many of them old hands, and I found that I stood very little chance of employment.

I was still studying how to get up to Bulawayo, which I was told would cost me about £50 by coach, then the regular means of making the journey. At one of the mines I was lucky enough to meet a sailor, and getting a warm invitation to spend a few days with him, I accepted, on the chance that something might turn up. Visiting the saloon which was the meeting-place for the miners in the evening, I became acquainted with a man named Adcock, and as a consequence of an argument on the strained relations between the Boers and Outlanders, a row arose, in which I got mixed up, and I was ordered to leave the camp. Outside I came across Adcock, who told me that he was going up to Bulawayo, and had his outfit—which consisted of twenty mule wagons and one hundred horses, which he was taking up for the Government—camped a little distance away.

This was my chance, but at first he was inclined to refuse my request to be allowed to go up with him, but on my promising to make myself as useful as possible on the journey, he finally agreed to take me. There were six white men in the party, in addition to Adcock and myself, and about fifty natives, chiefly Cape boys and Hottentots. My duties were to look after these natives and the stores.

Bulawayo was about six hundred miles up-country from Johannesburg, and the order of the march was for the white men, who were all mounted, to drive the horses in front of the caravan, while the wagons, under charge of the native drivers, followed on behind.

With a crack of his long whip like a pistol shot, each driver set his team in motion, and we started on our long trek up-country. The natives are very expert with these whips, being able, from their place at the front of the wagon, to single out any one of the ten or twelve mules which form the team before them.

My efforts as a rider were the subject of much sarcastic and good-humoured comment from my companions, but before the end of our journey I was as good a rider as any in the outfit.

The country through which we passed was for the most part open veldt, dotted with thorn-bushes, and the climate being dry and hot, the scarcity of water is a continual source of anxiety to the traveller in this part. Our animals suffered most severely, as there was no grass to be found, and after crossing the Limpopo they began to fall sick, and our progress became slower and slower with each day’s march.

When we arrived at a place called Maklutsi the mules were all so utterly done up that they could go no farther, so the horses and some of the wagons went on to Salisbury, and the natives returned.

I had the choice of going back with the natives or continuing my journey on foot, and, choosing the latter course, I was provided with a small quantity of flour and some bully beef, and saying goodbye to my companions, I started out on my solitary trek.

Food at Maklutsi was very dear in consequence of the transport having been entirely disorganised by a serious outbreak of rinderpest. The price of an ordinary tin of corned beef (bully beef) had risen to 5s., and bread cost 1s. a loaf. There was no work to be got here, so I left the settlement at once and started on my 150 miles’ tramp to Bulawayo.

Having no means of carrying my food comfortably, I tied up the legs of a spare pair of trousers, and putting the flour in one leg and the beef in the other, I slung these improvised provision-bags over my shoulder, along with my cooking-pots, and started off.

When I had been two days on the road I was lucky enough to fall in with a travelling companion, in the person of an old soldier named Grant, who was also making his way to Bulawayo.

We agreed to travel on together, and Grant, who saw everything in a humorous light, enlivened the journey with his cheery conversation and good-natured chaff. He had run out of food and would have been in a tight fix if I had not come up with him; but he took everything very philosophically, and I imagine that his lively spirits would have kept him going to the last gasp.

We shared the provisions as long as they lasted, but as I had only provided for myself, the supply gradually diminished until, stopping one day for a rest near a water-hole we had found in the bush, we found that we had not a scrap of food left.

Grant had thrown himself on the ground utterly exhausted, and I went off to the pool to have a bathe. Stepping into the water, I felt something slimy under my foot, and stooping down and groping beneath my foot, I found that it was a fish of the kind known in Africa as mudfish. They are good enough eating, and in our present famished condition promised a very appetising dish, and to my delight, on feeling round, I found that the pool was simply full of the fish, and we need have no further anxiety about food for the next few days.

I learned from the experience gained later during my journeyings through Africa that the smaller rivers all dry up after the rainy season, leaving only a few pools, such as the one we had struck, and, of course, all the fish naturally make for the deeper spots as soon as they find the water going down. This accounted for the large quantity of fish to be found in the pool, which I proceeded to catch and throw on to the bank to dry as fast as I could. Having done this, I went back to Grant to tell him of our good luck. By way of breaking the news gently, I asked him if he would like a feed of fish, to which he replied with some comical remark to the effect that he really had no appetite, thinking that I was only chaffing. However, when he found it was really true, and saw the fish I brought up to cook for our meal, he was in no way behind me in getting to work on the best meal we had had for some days.

Not wishing to waste the fish, of which we could not manage to take much with us, we stayed there for a few days and were much better for the rest. We managed to dry a little of the fish, which we took with us when we moved on again.

This proved to be the turning-point of our luck, as a few days later we were overtaken by a Boer, going up to Bulawayo with a mule-wagon, and exchanged some of our dried fish with him for a little tea, flour, and a few other things, which we had now been without for several days. He seemed a good sort, so we begged him to give us a lift, which he did willingly enough, so our troubles were over for that journey.

I was so anxious to get into Bulawayo that I left the wagon when we were still some miles from the end of our journey, and made my way ahead on foot. This was a stupid thing to do, as we were well aware that the Matabele were already out in that district. We had found all the forts, as the police posts were called, under arms on the way up. These posts, which were placed at intervals along the road, were small positions protected by earthworks and barbed-wire entanglements, and occupied by thirty or forty men, with perhaps a Maxim gun. Many of them were the scenes of desperate fights during the rising, but their very names are unknown to people in England, who only regarded the Matabele rising as one of our many little wars, and as it did not affect their everyday life, took little or no interest in it.

I was lucky enough to get safely into Bulawayo without adventure, arriving about two o’clock in the afternoon, and was not surprised to find the town under martial law. Everybody was armed, and a big laager had been formed in the market-place, where the women and children gathered when an alarm was raised.

Being directed to the office of the Matabeleland Mounted Police, I lost no time in presenting myself before the officer in charge. I found that the conditions of service were good, the pay being at the rate of 10s. a day and all found, so I was duly enrolled.

After a good bath I discarded my old clothes and reappeared in full war-paint, feeling the self-respect which accompanies the wearing of a decent suit of clothes for the first time after some months in rags.

The police had no recognised uniform, but all wore a khaki suit, with a slouch hat, the different troops being known by the colour of the pugaree. A troop consisted of from thirty to fifty men.

Having been supplied with a Martini-Henry rifle and fifty rounds of ammunition, I was now fully equipped, and the next day I went out, in all the glory of my new uniform, to meet the mule-wagon. My improved appearance made such an impression on Grant that he lost no time in enlisting, and was enrolled the same day.

After three months in this troop of police, I joined the Africander Corps, which was a body of irregulars attached to them under Captain Van Niekerk. As they were composed of experienced men, well acquainted with the country and accustomed to savage warfare, I thought there would be a much better chance of seeing some of the fighting.

We were scouting in the outlying district, where the Matabele had been seen, but although we got into touch with them here and there, we had no serious engagement. Later on we were sent out on the Shangani Patrol, visiting the district where Major Wilson and his party were cut up during the first Matabele War.

This patrol numbered from two hundred to three hundred police, with the mounted infantry of the Yorks and Lancs Regiment, a detachment of the 7th Hussars, under Colonel Paget—with whom was Prince Alexander of Teck—and a battalion of infantry.

The natives were lodged in the hills, and from a position of comparative safety were able to pour in a galling fire on the troops, while we were unable to inflict any serious loss on them in return. However, we lost only a few men killed, but had several deaths from fever.

The man who gave us the greatest trouble was a chief named Umwini, who was the leader of the rebellion in that district. I was present on several occasions at indabas (indaba is the native word for a meeting to discuss any matter), when he would come out of his stronghold and stand on the rocks in full view of us; but when asked to surrender, he replied contemptuously that we were a lot of boys and that he would never be taken by us.

His kraal was high up amongst some almost inaccessible crags on the mountain side, and all efforts failed to dislodge him, until a few of the Dutch Corps, of whom I was one, managed to steal upon him unawares. We reached his cave in the early dawn, and saw him, through the opening, sitting, with only a few of his followers, round some lighted candles which he had probably looted from one of the stores. One of our men, taking careful aim, shot him through the shoulder, and then, rushing the cave, we took him prisoner. He was tried by a court martial, and sentenced to be shot, and when the time came for the sentence to be carried out he showed himself a thoroughly brave man, refusing to be blindfolded or to stand with his back to the firing party, saying that he wished to see death coming.

It was about this time that I first met B.-P.—now General Sir R. S. S. Baden-Powell, but then only Colonel—who had been sent up to take charge of the operations, and who confirmed the court martial’s sentence on Umwini. I was on water guard that day, to see that the natives did not poison the stream, when a man whom I took for a trooper came up and entered into conversation with me, asking about my past experiences, &c., and it was only when I got back to camp, after going off duty, that I found I had been talking to the officer in command of the expedition.

A general plan of attack was now organised, under the direction of Colonel Baden-Powell, and the natives were finally dislodged from the hills and the rebellion crushed.

On the successful termination of the patrol a fort was built at Umvunga Drift, where I remained for some time; but it was a most unhealthy place, nearly every man going down, sooner or later, with fever and dysentery. There was absolutely no medicine of any sort in the place, and we consequently lost several men. I myself had a bad attack of dysentery, but managed to cure it by making a very thin mixture with my ration of flour and some water, which I drank daily until the attack was cured.

In the centre of the fort stood a big tree, and after cutting away the branches at the top we erected a platform on the trunk, which, besides serving as a look-out, made a splendid platform for a Maxim gun which we mounted there, and were thus able to command the surrounding country within range.

During my stay here we had one or two brushes with the natives, but they gradually settled down; so, on a relief force being sent up, I returned to Bulawayo, where the corps was disbanded. I then got a post as one of the guard over a number of murderers lying in Bulawayo gaol awaiting sentence, all of whom were finally hanged.

In the course of the twelve months that I remained in Bulawayo I made the acquaintance of a man named Elstop, who is mentioned by Mr. F. C. Selous in one of his books. This man was one of the oldest hands in the country, and had been one of the pioneers in Rhodesia, and had also spent a good deal of time trading and storekeeping among the natives of the interior.

It was my acquaintance with him that finally decided me on my future course of action. The tales he told of his experiences in the earlier days, when elephants and other game were to be met with in plenty, fired my blood, and I said that I wished I had been in the country at that time. He said that I should probably find the same state of things still existing farther north. This was quite enough for me, and I resolved to find out for myself if he was right.

I was then in partnership with a man named Frielich, carrying on business as fruit and produce merchants, under the name of the Colonial Fruit and Produce Stores of Bulawayo. I had put practically all my savings into the business, but this did not alter my resolution to go north, and by mutual agreement we dissolved partnership.

I have since learned that Frielich finally made over £100,000 out of the business. Before the Boer War broke out he had stored an immense amount of forage, which he was able to sell during the war at his own price, and so amassed a comfortable fortune, in which, of course, had I stayed in Bulawayo, I should have shared.

Before starting out on our new venture I thought I would take a short holiday at the seaside; so going down to East London, in Cape Colony, I joined some men I had met during the Matabele War, and we stayed there some time, camping out on the sands.

Finding that the funds were running out, I took to the sea again, and, getting a ship, worked my way round to Durban. Here I had to look round again for something to do, and finding that a Shakespearian company was playing in the town at the time, I presented myself at the stage manager’s office and applied for an engagement. They happened to have a vacancy, and I was taken on for small parts. The company was at rehearsal when I was engaged, and I was told to take my place at once among the others on the stage. As far as I could judge, I was no worse than the other members of the company, and for a month I appeared nightly for the edification of the aristocracy of Durban.

Tiring of the stage, I again took to the sea, and worked my way, from port to port, round to Zanzibar, where I gathered all the information I could about the interior, which did not amount to much more than that the country was very wild indeed.

However, my mind was made up now, and I was not to be scared off my plan; so, as there were no boats running to Mombasa—which is the gateway of British East Africa—I bargained with an Arab for a passage on a dhow which carried native passengers between the various ports along the coast. The owner of the dhow provided no accommodation for his passengers, and I suppose one could hardly expect that he would, seeing that the fare from Zanzibar to Mombasa—a distance of about 250 miles—was only two rupees, or two shillings and eightpence!

The boat had a single mast, and carried one huge sail. It had no compass or lights, and was navigated round the coast by keeping as close inshore as possible all the time. There was no place to make a fire or any provision for cooking. It had been so, the Arab told me, in the days of his father, and what was good enough for his father was good enough for him and those who chose to travel with him. This was said in Arabic, but was translated to me by a fellow-passenger who could speak a little English.

With fully fifty people on board the tiny craft we started on our voyage along the coast, but had not gone very far before we were in trouble. With the huge sail set to catch the breeze, we were flying merrily along, when we were suddenly brought up all standing, and found that we had come across some obstacle in the water. We were very quickly informed what it was by a shouting crowd of excited native fishermen who swarmed round our boat, loudly demanding to be compensated for the damage done to their nets, which, it seemed, formed the obstacle that had pulled us up and which we had destroyed.

The owner of the dhow did not seem to be at all disposed to give in to their demands, and they were about to seize the small boat which we were towing behind us, when I thought it was time to take a hand in the argument, as, in case of any accident to the dhow, this boat was our only hope of safety, the waters in that part being said to be infested with sharks. Picking up an axe, which happened to be lying handy, I jumped into the boat and threatened to brain the first man who came within reach. Although they did not understand English, my attitude was evidently suggestive enough to make it clear that they were safer at a distance, and, realizing that they were not likely to get any satisfaction by continuing the argument, they allowed us to proceed on our way.

After this we made fairly good headway, with a favourable wind, and, occupied in watching the changing scenery opening out as we made our way along the coast, I had almost forgotten the incident. I was settling down to enjoy the trip when, without any warning, we were suddenly pulled up again with a jerk, and the dhow came to a fullstop again.

Every one immediately got into a wild state of excitement, shouting and gesticulating, and making a perfect pandemonium of noise. The captain was shouting as wildly as the rest, and, thinking he was giving orders, I was surprised to see that nobody attempted to carry them out, but on asking the passenger who could speak some English what orders he was giving, and why no one obeyed them, he said, “He is not giving orders, he is praying. He is calling on Allah to help him.” This was no use to me, and I thought the best thing I could do was to take charge myself; so, getting the man to whom I had spoken to act as interpreter, I told them what to do to put things right. They then calmed down a good deal, and I went to take soundings. There was no leadline on board, so I had to make one with some old iron and some pieces of rope that were lying about. On sounding I found plenty of water on one side of the ship, while on the other it was very shallow, so that we were evidently stuck on a reef. As soon as I was certain of this I lashed some rope to the anchor, and had it taken out about twenty or thirty yards from the ship, in the small boat, and then dropped overboard. Then I made everybody lend a hand to pull hard on the rope, and after about six hours’ hard work we managed to pull her off. In case of trouble I kept the axe handy, but they were ready enough to obey my orders, so nothing happened.

When we got her off I found that the dhow was leaking pretty badly, so everybody was kept busy baling out the water, while I took the helm, and, keeping her close in to the land, steered towards Mombasa.

Noticing a large white building on the shore, I asked what it was, and my interpreter told me that it was the residence of a white man, and that the place was called Shimoni; so I took the boat in as close as possible and dropped anchor. On landing I found that the house was occupied by a British official, who offered to put me up, so I stayed the night there. The next morning I found that the dhow had continued her journey, and, as Mombasa was only thirty miles from Shimoni, I walked the rest of the way.

Mombasa is the starting-point of the Uganda Railway, of which so much has already been written. At the time of my arrival the railway was only in the initial stages of its construction, and just beginning to stretch its track through the almost unknown interior of British East Africa. So far it had only advanced a comparatively short distance into the Protectorate, and from the very start the engineers were faced at every step with some of the numerous difficulties which lie in the way of railway building in a new and savage country, from men and animals, as well as from the climate and tropical vegetation. The loss of life from wild animals, as well as from the climate, was very heavy.

In those days the European quarter of Mombasa was only a small cluster of buildings—chiefly Government offices—with one hotel, which was kept by a Greek. Two or three Europeans trading in the interior had stores here, and the British Government was represented by a Sub-Commissioner.

Mombasa—meaning Isle of War—is of great interest to the student of history. It is situated on an island, connected to the mainland by a bridge. There is a huge native town and an old Portuguese fort, several hundred years old, built in the days of Henry the Navigator, in whose reign the Portuguese ships visited all the ports of the known world, and many others, till then unknown.

Thinking that I should be most likely to get the information I required from the Government, I called on the Sub-Commissioner, and asked him to advise me as to the best way of carrying out my plan of visiting the interior. Very much to my surprise, I was received with the scantest courtesy, and given very plainly to understand that white men, whether travellers or hunters, were by no means welcome. They were not wanted, he told me, under any circumstances, and he advised me to leave the country at once.

CHAPTER III

1898: Determine to organize a transport caravan on the Uganda Railway route, to convey provisions for the coolies working on the railway—Man-eating lions at railway construction camps—Reach the borderland of the Masai and Kikuyu tribes—Desertion of my men—Return to railhead—Start out again with convoys for Uganda—Loss of my transport animals—Decide to enter the Kikuyu country

I own I was a little discouraged by this reception, but it did not alter my determination to remain—in spite of the veiled threat of the official to prevent my going up-country; so I set out to make a few inquiries for myself.

I found that there were a number of caravans going up to Uganda, the main road to which place was protected by a line of forts, placed about a hundred miles apart. North and south of this caravan road the country was practically unknown, being under no administration, and chiefly inhabited by hostile tribes.

A mutiny had recently broken out among the troops in Uganda, on account of which the whole country was in disorder, and a lot of transport was required in the disaffected district. Here, again, I thought I saw my opportunity.

At that time everything had to be carried upon the heads of native porters, so that each load, averaging about sixty pounds in weight, was costing from sixty to one hundred rupees—very often a lot more than the value of the goods carried—before it reached its destination.

I was convinced that this state of things could be improved on; and chancing to meet a man named Gibbons—a white trader—as I left the Commissioner, I talked over the question of cheapening the cost of transport with him, and we finally decided that it could be done by using donkeys and wagons in the place of porters; so we decided to try the scheme in partnership.

Having settled the bargain, we set to work to prepare the expedition. Altogether we purchased about thirty donkeys, which cost us about a hundred rupees each, and got as many wagons as we thought sufficient. In the meantime I set to work to make the harness, as we could not get any in Mombasa, and by using rope and sacking I managed to turn out a sufficient number of very creditable sets.

We also decided to take a hundred porters with us in case of accident, as our contract provided for a heavy fine if we did not deliver the goods on time. These porters were chiefly Swahili, a name meaning “coast dwellers.” These Swahili consider themselves more civilized than the people of the interior. They practise the Mohammedan religion and copy the Arabs in their dress. Swahili porters march under a headman of their own race, who receives his orders and repeats them to his followers. If, as sometimes happens, there are porters from other native tribes in the caravan, each tribe has its representative headman. For each ten carriers there is an askari, or soldier, who is armed with a rifle, and whose duty it is to keep guard at night and protect the caravan on the road. These askaris also act as police and keep order generally, and bring in any deserters. As may be easily imagined, it would hardly do to trust merely to the askaris’ sense of duty for the prevention of desertion, but a clearly understood condition of their engagement in that capacity ensures their using their best endeavours to prevent anything of the sort. It is the recognized rule on all safaris that, if any man of the ten in an askari’s section deserts, and the askari cannot bring him back, he will himself have to carry the deserter’s load for the rest of the journey. Apart from the unpleasantness of having to carry a sixty-pound load in the ranks of the porters instead of swaggering along with no other burden than his rifle, ammunition, and blanket, the blow to his self-importance involved in the degradation from askari to porter is one that would be severely felt by any nigger, who is probably blessed with more self-esteem than even a circus-ring master or a newly appointed Sub-Commissioner, and the fear of such degradation is a wonderful spur on the askaris’ watchfulness. A cook and a private servant completed the outfit.

On this occasion we had two hundred loads of Government goods to take up to Uganda, and one hundred loads of trade goods which we were taking up on our own account, our intention being to deliver the Government goods at their destination and then start on a private trading and hunting expedition away up north, in the direction of Lake Rudolph, where we hoped to buy more donkeys, as we had heard that they were very cheap in that district.

Having completed all our arrangements, we put the whole caravan—men, donkeys, wagons, and loads—on the train, and started for rail-head, which was then about 150 miles from Mombasa. This was in the year 1898. On arriving safely at the terminus of the line we left the train and went into camp.

We found that the district around us was infested with lions, whose ferocity had created such a state of panic among the Indian coolies working on the construction of the line that the work had practically stopped. No less than thirty of the coolies had been carried off by them, and I found the remainder sleeping in the trees and afraid to go to work.

Many stories were told of the audacity of the lions, who prowled round the camp nightly, and rarely left without one or more victims. In one case an Irishman, named O’Hara, who had charge of the coolies engaged in the construction of the line, set himself to watch for the man-eater, in the hope of getting a shot at him, and took his post with his rifle by the door of his tent, in which his wife was sleeping. The night passed without incident, and towards morning he must have dozed off, for his wife awakened to see him being dragged off into the bush by a lion. His mutilated body was eventually found by the search party within a short distance of the camp.

On another occasion three men with whom I was personally well acquainted had a remarkable experience. They were watching for lions from a railway carriage—a construction wagon on the line—the door of which they left open. Two of them, Perenti and Hubner, made themselves as comfortable as they could on rugs laid on the floor of the carriage to rest till their turn for watching came, while the third, a man named Rial, took up a position near the door, where he evidently fell asleep. A prowling lion scented the party, and took a flying leap into the carriage. The impact of his landing made the carriage oscillate, and swung the door to, caging the whole party and their unwelcome guest. Perenti told me that he was wakened by the curious smell of the lion, and, putting out his hand, felt the animal standing over him. Directly he was touched the beast let out a terrific roar, and, seizing Rial by the throat, sprang clean through the window with him and made off. The body, partly eaten, was found in the bush next morning.

Some of the dodges to kill the lions had distinctly humorous results, and I remember being much amused with the story of one man’s experience. I must explain that to provide the labourers with water, tanks were placed beside the line, which were refilled at intervals. One genius had the idea of lying in wait for lions in one of these tanks, in one side of which he made a hole in which to insert the barrel of his rifle—quite overlooking the fact that the lion might prefer to approach from the opposite side, which was what actually happened. The animal, scenting him, immediately knocked the lid off the tank and tried to fish him out with his paw. He was unable to get his rifle round, and could only shrink into the smallest possible space in the corner of the tank—fortunately beyond the reach of the lion—and remain quiet until the beast was driven off. He was lucky enough to escape with a torn blanket and a few deep scratches where the lion had just managed to reach him with his claws. Of course, he had to endure a considerable amount of chaff on the result of his original attempt at lion-hunting.

I myself had a narrow escape before leaving railhead, for which the lions were indirectly responsible. I had been dining with one of the railway officials, and had stayed rather late, it being after ten o’clock when I set out to return to my own camp. Not expecting to be out so late, I had not brought my rifle, so, as it was of course pitch dark, I took a blazing brand from the camp fire, and started to walk the two miles to my own place. After going for some time I saw some fires in the distance, and, thinking they were those of my own people, I made towards them. All at once I heard a terrific din of shouting and beating of empty paraffin-cans. While wondering what on earth all the row was about I heard firing, and some shots whizzed past, unpleasantly close to my head. Dropping flat, I began shouting, and the firing presently ceased. I was then able to make my way into camp, which I found was one made for some of the Indian coolies, who had mistaken the light of my firebrand for the eye of a lion. I was persuaded to stay the remainder of the night in their boma and return to my own camp in the morning. A boma, or zareba as it is called in the Soudan, is a rough fence of thorn-bushes or brushwood built round a camp to keep prowlers, whether two or four footed, at a distance.

We were all very busy now, getting the wagons and harness ready and fixing up the loads for our journey to Uganda.

We found that if we were to get the loads through by the time agreed upon we should want at least five hundred porters, so we tried to engage some natives from the Wakamba[^[1]] to go with us. With the native disinclination to move except just as they felt inclined, they absolutely refused to go; so it was arranged that I should go on ahead with the wagons, while Gibbons should come on later with the porters.

[1]. Wakamba, i.e., natives of the Kamba tribe who inhabit that region.

I started with one hundred loads of Government stuff on five wagons, while my camp outfit, food, &c., was carried on another, and took about twenty of the men with me. Being unable to get the necessary porters, we had to leave some of the loads behind in charge of two of the men, intending to return for them later, but, as it happened, we never saw them again.

I soon found that the donkey outfit did not work by any means as smoothly as we had hoped, the donkeys never having been in harness before and the men being new to the work. The drivers could not keep on the road, wagons capsized, and things went wrong generally. None of the rivers we had to cross were bridged, and when we had got the wagons down into the hollow of the river bed it was a terrible job to get them up on the other side; the only way being to get all the boys to push at the back, so that it took several hours’ hard work at each of the rivers before we managed to get donkeys, wagons, and loads from one side to the other.

The country generally was dry and bushy, being covered with thick scrub, which made our progress so slow that, after two or three days’ travelling, we were overtaken by Gibbons with the remainder of the men.

While we were sitting by the camp fire that night, waiting for a meal, I was very nearly shot by Gibbons, who was anxious to explain the working of the Snider rifle to me. Taking a rifle from an askari, he put in a cartridge, wishing to show me that it was absolutely impossible for it to go off at half-cock, and, pointing the rifle towards me, he said, “You see, it won’t go off now.” I objected, and was pushing the rifle to one side, when it actually did go off, the bullet whizzing close by my ear!

The free, gipsy-like life in the open just suited my inclination. The absolute freedom to go where one liked, and do as one liked, without any of the restrictions which meet one on every side in civilized countries, and the feeling that you are literally “monarch of all you survey,” appealed very strongly to me, and I felt that I had at last found the life suited thoroughly to my disposition.

We started off again and made very good progress, as, by the aid of the moon, we were able to travel at night. We were now crossing the Athi Plain, which extends for about one hundred miles and teems with almost every kind of game except elephants, so we were able to keep the caravan well supplied with meat. Almost every night my boys used to rouse me up with a scare of lions, but, although I always turned out, I never saw any cause for the excitement.

After travelling for some days, we finally arrived at Nairobi, since become the capital of British East Africa, and here the character of the country completely changed. From the dry scrub-covered plain we now entered a splendid grazing country, with magnificent forests and beautiful woodland scenery, making a very pleasant change from the bare landscape of the last few marches. What is now known as Nairobi was then practically a swamp, and from the nature of the surrounding country I should never have imagined that it would be chosen as the site for the future capital of British East Africa. Indeed, I still think that by going a little farther westward a situation far more suitable in every way would have been found. The town of Nairobi takes its name from a river of the same name which rises in the neighbouring hills, the river forming the boundary-line between the Masai and Kikuyu countries, and the plain where the town now stands was at this time an absolutely uninhabited district, without a village of any kind. We outspanned for the night on the edge of the swamp which borders the present town. Being thoroughly tired out with the day’s work, I was resting in my tent, when about six o’clock in the afternoon I heard my boys calling me with one of the usual stories about lions being about. Finding that they seemed more excited than usual, I turned out to see if there really was any cause for alarm, and saw two lions stalking the donkeys in the gathering dusk. They came quite close up to the camp, and I then saw that one was a lioness, so, having heard that if the female were shot the male would clear off, while if the male were shot the female became savage, and would probably attack, I fired at the female and thought I hit her, though, owing to the bad light and the fact that my gun—a Martini-Metford—was a very poor one, and could not be relied on to shoot straight, I could not be certain. The animals turned and plunged into the swamp, but though we saw signs of blood and tracked them for some distance, we had to give up on account of the gathering darkness, and the next morning we could find no signs of them.

MASAI WARRIORS FROM NAIVASHA

Some of the Masai tribe were in the neighbourhood, and visited our camp. This was the first time I had come across any of this race, of whom so much has been written, and I was naturally very much interested. They seemed very friendly, and, in spite of their warlike reputation, we had no trouble with them at all. Physically, they were very fine specimens of the African native, and certainly make very good fighting-men.

We were about to enter the practically unknown country of the Kikuyu tribe, a people whose reputation was such that only the most daring of the white traders would even venture to set foot over the boundary, and then only at the greatest risk of their lives and goods.

Those who only know the Kikuyu people as they are to-day may find some difficulty in crediting many of the statements I shall make as to their character and reputation at the time when I spent some three or four very lively years among them, but a short quotation from the late Sir Gerald Portal’s book on the “British Mission to Uganda in 1893,” dealing with the race as they were then—which accurately describes them as I found them five years later—may help the doubting ones to a clearer realization of the facts.

Describing the British East Africa Company’s station, Fort Smith,[^[2]] in the Kikuyu country, Sir Gerald says:—

“The Kikuyu tribes were practically holding the Company’s station in a state of siege.” Later on he says: “We left the open plain and plunged into the darkness of a dense belt of forest, which forms the natural boundary of the regions inhabited by the treacherous, cunning, and usually hostile people of Kikuyu. Warned by the state of affairs which we had heard was prevailing at the Company’s fort in this district, we were careful to keep all our people close together, every man within a couple of paces of his neighbour. One European marched in front, one in the rear, and one in the middle of the long line. The Wa-Kikuyu, as we knew, seldom or never show themselves, or run the risk of a fight in the open, but lie like snakes in the long grass, or in some dense bush within a few yards of the line of march, watching for a gap in the ranks, or for some incautious porter to stray away, or loiter a few yards behind; even then not a sound is heard; a scarcely perceptible ‘twang’ of a small bow, the almost inaudible ‘whizz’ of a little poisoned arrow for a dozen yards through the air, a slight puncture in the arm, throat, or chest, followed, almost inevitably, by the death of a man. Another favourite trick of the Wa-Kikuyu is to plant poisoned skewers in the path, set at an angle of about forty-five degrees, pointing towards the direction from which the stranger is expected. If the path is much overgrown or hidden by the luxuriant growth of long grass, these stakes are of much greater length and so pointed that they would pierce the stomach of any one advancing towards them.[^[3]] Keeping a sharp look-out for these delicate attentions, our progress was inevitably slow, but at length we arrived without further adventure at the strong stockade, ditch, brick houses, and well-guarded stores known as Fort Smith in Kikuyu, above which was floating the Company’s flag.

[2]. Fort Smith was situated close to where the present town of Nairobi now stands.

[3]. Sir Gerald was evidently misinformed on this point, as I ascertained during my stay in the country that it had never been the custom to use long stakes such as he describes.

“Outside the Fort itself the state of affairs was not so pleasant to contemplate. We were surrounded day and night by a complete ring of hostile Wa-Kikuyu, hidden in the long grass and bushes, and for any one to wander alone for more than two hundred yards from the stockade was almost certain death. On the morning of our arrival, a porter of Martin’s caravan, who had strayed down to the long grass at the foot of the little hill on which the station is built, was speared through the back and killed within 250 paces of our tents. A short time before eight soldiers in the Company’s service who were foraging for food—probably in an illicit manner—were all massacred in a neighbouring village; and a day or two before our arrival the natives had even had the temerity to try and set fire to the fort itself at night.

“It will, however, be a matter of time and difficulty, requiring great tact, patience, and firmness, to induce these Wa-Kikuyu to have confidence in Europeans, and to discontinue their practice of spearing or otherwise murdering any defenceless Swahili porter whom they may find straying away by himself.

“Long before I went to their country myself I remember being told by an African traveller of great renown that the only way in which to deal with the Kikuyu people, whether singly or in masses, was to ‘shoot at sight.’”

The Martin mentioned by Sir Gerald Portal above was one of the pioneers of British East Africa. He was a Maltese sailor, who came to this country with Joseph Thompson, and was the first white man to venture among the Masai. He now manages the Mabira forest rubber estate.

Another traveller, Mr. G. F. Scott Elliott, speaking of the Kikuyu in his book, “A Naturalist in Mid Africa,” says: “They are only too anxious to spear a lagging porter.”[^[4]] He also describes the murder by these people of forty-nine out of fifty men composing an Arab or Swahili trading caravan.

[4]. For further reference to the Kikuyu tribe see Professor Gregory’s excellent book “The Great Rift Valley,” 1896.

Later on I was destined to be the first white man to live amongst this pleasant people, enter into their daily life, and bring them into something like close touch with European civilization.

We were warned to be very careful when we reached the Kikuyu country, and to keep a good guard, as they had a very bad name, being very treacherous and not to be trusted in any way; but, keeping a sharp look-out, we passed the boundary without any interference from them. We kept to the caravan road, which passed along the outskirts of the country, as we were told that every caravan going through the country had had trouble with the natives, having had porters killed and goods stolen.

About this time Gibbons left me and pushed on ahead, as we were anxious to get the loads through, while, the surrounding country being splendid grazing ground, I remained about a week to give the animals a rest before crossing the practically uninhabited district which lay between my present camp and the ravine—the station on the road to Uganda for which I was bound.

Being short of donkeys, some having died on the road, I decided to redistribute the loads, and make the total weight somewhat less by leaving some of my personal belongings behind. Among the things I left was my tent. This I had good cause to regret later on. We had been gradually rising nearly all the way as we approached the high escarpment of the Kedong Valley, which is about five thousand feet above sea-level, and therefore very cold, and the absence of my tent caused me considerable discomfort.

Arriving at the top of the escarpment and looking down the precipitous slope on the farther side, the first question was how we were to get the wagons down into the valley, where we could see a number of Masai villages, the road being very narrow and full of holes, besides being plentifully strewn with boulders.

I decided to camp at the top for the night and make a start early the next morning. That night on the top of the mountain taught me a lesson—never again to travel without my tent. Besides the discomfort of the cold, there is always the danger of getting a dose of fever, and this was what I did on the present occasion.

Rousing the camp at a very early hour, we set to work to devise some means of getting the caravan down the side of the escarpment. There were no brakes on the wagons, and the donkeys would not go down even without the wagons unless they were absolutely driven. So, to get the wagons down, I tried a plan of my own, which, at the first attempt, came very near to killing me.

Taking the donkeys out of the wagon, I placed a boy on each side with a rope to ease it down, while I took hold of the shaft. When it went too fast, I told the boys to put stones under the wheels to check the pace, and so let it down gradually. As I had already shown them how to place stones at the back of the wheels in coming up the hill to prevent the wagon running back, I thought that they would have the sense to see that the stones must be put in front when going down hill. The result impressed upon me the fact that the nigger cannot argue from analogy, but that everything you wish him to do must be carefully explained in the fullest detail.

We got along all right until the hill-side began to get very steep, and I found the boys could not hold the wagon. They started to let go, and I shouted to them to get the stones in place. Their stupidity would have been laughable if my position had not been so serious. Instead of putting the stones in front of the wheels, they put them at the back, as they had been taught to do when we were getting the wagons up the hill, and seemed surprised when the wagon ran away from the stones, and before I could make them understand what I wanted, the boys at the ropes had let go. Being unable to let go myself, I had to hang on like grim death, while the wagon went tearing down the slope. One minute I was bumping on the road and the next I was in the air, with trees and other things whizzing past. By making the best use of my chances when my feet touched the ground, I managed to keep the wagon on the road until very near the bottom of the hill, when it ran over a hole and capsized. Luckily very little damage was done, but it took us the whole day to get all the wagons and animals down, and when we camped at night every one was thoroughly tired out with the hard day’s work.

The valley was very fertile, and made a splendid grazing ground for cattle, the Masai regularly bringing their stock there to graze at certain seasons of the year, and at the time of our arrival a large number of them were camping on the spot with their herds of stock.

While out shooting one day in the valley, one of my porters showed me the spot where he said a trader named Dick, with five or six hundred of his men, had been murdered by the Masai. Dick himself had shot seventeen of his assailants before he was killed. I went to examine the ground, and found it covered with so large a number of skulls and bones that I was inclined to think that the boy had used less than the usual native amount of exaggeration in telling the story. So far as I know, no attempt has ever been made to punish the Masai for this massacre. Another of the porters, on my asking him how he had lost an eye, told me that it had been torn out by the Masai—formerly a common practice of theirs when they caught any Arab or Swahili traders passing through their country. They were habitually very offensive to strangers, generally forcing them to camp a considerable distance from water, which they then proceeded to make them buy, their practice being to stick a spear into the ground, and make the trader pay in goods, brass and iron wire, and beads, as the case might be, to the height of the spear, before they would let him pass.

As I have said, there were a number of Masai in the valley, but I had no trouble with them; many of them came into camp with milk, which I bought from them. I found that it had a distinctly smoky taste, due to the gourds in which it is carried being hung over the fire to clean them.

The Masai always seemed well disposed towards me, and, as is their custom when they wish to be polite, paid me the compliment of spitting on their hands before shaking hands with me. The bearing of the elmoran, or warriors, was certainly truculent and insulting, but I managed not to give offence, and even succeeded in trading with them for a few donkeys to replace those of mine which had died on the road, and one which had been killed by a hyena; and when the animals were sufficiently rested, we were able to resume our journey to Lake Naivasha, where there is a Government station, without further incident of note.

The natives along the Uganda Road were now beginning to get accustomed to the altered state of things. Caravans were going through the country regularly, and they had sense enough to understand that the white man had come to stay, and any attempt to oppose his coming would probably have serious consequences for themselves, resulting in the loss of their herds and their best grazing-grounds. Of course they did not realize all this at once. The old fighting spirit of the warriors could not be entirely checked in a moment, but it was only in isolated instances that they dared to attack the white intruders; they had always been accustomed to make war on the neighbouring tribes as they pleased, and up to recent years would raid portions of British East African territory, and make organized descents into German East Africa. To the present day they will carry off cattle whenever the opportunity offers, arguing that, as the original owners of all the cattle in the country, they are perfectly within their rights in helping themselves.

AN ANT HILL

Two or three days later we camped by the side of Lake Elmenteita, where I had a curious experience with a lion. It had been my custom to give out rations about once a week, but my men had exchanged their flour with the Masai for milk, and we had run short of food, so I said I would go and shoot them some meat. As I had practically run out of ammunition also, I took only two or three rounds out with me, and these I had fired off without result, with the exception of the one round which it is usual to keep in case of emergency. On the way back to camp I saw a zebra, which I thought would be just the thing for the men, so I started to crawl on hands and knees towards an ant-hill which was about fifty yards from the zebra, thinking that from there I could get him with one shot. With my rifle in one hand and the cartridge in the other, I had reached the ant-hill, and was just looking round the corner to get a shot at the zebra, when I saw a lion about two yards off looking straight at me. He was evidently after the zebra too, and the meeting was a pretty big surprise for both of us. It is one thing to go out hunting a lion, but quite another to meet one unexpectedly round a corner in this way, and I was so taken aback that I could not find the cartridge. I was far too surprised to be scared, and started fumbling in my pockets and about my clothes to find the cartridge which I held in my hand; the lion also seemed to think there was something curious about the affair, as, after looking at me for a few seconds, he walked quietly away, before I discovered the cartridge in my hand. By this time the zebra had also gone, and with it the last chance of any meat that night.

The next day I got plenty of meat for the boys, and continuing to follow the caravan road, we moved on as far as Lake Nakuru, and from there to Equator Camp—so called from its being situated exactly on the Equator—where we halted. Two days later we reached the Ravine, where I handed over my loads at the Government Fort. There had been a mutiny of native troops and the Ravine was the only station which had not been taken over by the mutineers. I ought really to have gone on up to Uganda, but the rains were on, and it was very difficult to get through with the wagons, and as I was feeling very ill, I was relieved from going through to my proper destination.

At Ravine Fort I met Major Smith, after whom Fort Smith was named, and found him a very interesting man. He was an ex-Life Guardsman, and had had a very interesting career in the early days of British East Africa, and had lost one hand in the course of his adventures. I also met Martin, whom I have already mentioned in the extract from Sir Gerald Portal’s book with reference to the Kikuyu.

My partner, Gibbons, had gone on to Uganda, where he would deliver the other loads, being able to get through more easily with porters than I with wagons, so I thought that my best plan would be to return to railhead—which would be about three hundred miles back from the Ravine—and make arrangements about the loads we had left behind, and also secure more transport.

I had very little food for my men on the return journey, and was unable to buy any at the Ravine, as their supply had run short through trouble with the Nandi natives. So we started out with a very poor prospect in front of us, and I myself was really not well enough to do anything. The men, too, not having been accustomed to the donkey wagons, were dissatisfied with the class of work they had been doing for me, and all the flour having given out, they were evidently anxious to get away. I was not much surprised, therefore, when, having turned in early one night, feeling far from well, I woke the next morning to find that every one of my men had deserted. This was at Equator Camp.

No one who has not experienced it can realize the feeling of being left absolutely alone in the wilds, with everything on your hands. Certainly I did not find it a pleasant one, and the fact that I was ill did not lighten my troubles. I made up my mind not to be beaten, however, and set myself to make the best of a bad job. Thinking that if I could overtake the men I might induce some of them to return, I went out for some distance, but not seeing anything of them, returned to the lonely camp. Before setting out after the men I had untied all the donkeys, and at night I had no difficulty in finding them again, and having tied them up as usual, I made a big fire round them and settled down to rest as well as I could. I slept through the night without being disturbed, and turned out early in the morning, having thought out the previous night what I should do. Not wishing to abandon the wagons, I tied them together, one behind the other, and put all the donkeys in front, inspanned on the leading wagon. Having fixed the caravan up like this I started off, and an awful time I had of it. Sometimes the road would turn, and then the job was to get the wagons round the bend without capsizing—which I could not always do, and by the time I had righted the wagons the donkeys would be all mixed up. I started off at six in the morning, and travelled until three o’clock in the afternoon, by which time I had reached the Njora River, where I halted, and managed to shoot a buck and had a good meal, which I thoroughly enjoyed, having been all day without food. Tying up the donkeys, I turned in and had a well-earned rest.

Feeling better for this, I started off early the next morning, and soon came across a solitary nigger, whom I commandeered. He was a stray porter, who had evidently deserted from some caravan, and was nearly starving. I gave him some meat, which he seemed uncommonly glad to get, and we went on together. We had a pretty long trek that day, and the next morning we started off again as soon as it was light for another long march, as it was thirty miles to the next camp where we could get water, and what with the delay caused by wagons capsizing, and trouble with the donkeys, it was ten o’clock at night before I got in. I arrived at my halting-place alone, my native follower having slipped quietly away into the darkness, and I never saw him again. I had brought some water with me in a bucket, but the jolting of the wagon had upset it, and having had no food all day, and suffering from the want of water, I was absolutely dead beat. The first thing I did was to outspan the donkeys and let them have a feed; then I took a bucket and went to look for water. The water-hole was about a mile away, and as it was pitch dark I had no easy job to find it. However, I succeeded at last, and just as I got there I was startled by something jumping up and brushing right past me. I knew from the sharp growl that it must have been a lion which I had disturbed when drinking. I was too done up to pay much attention to it, and having satisfied my thirst, I half-filled my bucket with water and made my way back to camp, where I had some trouble to find enough wood to make a fire. Eventually I managed to get one going and turned in. Before turning in I had noticed a fire at some little distance, which I put down to natives, and when I turned out in the morning, after having satisfied myself that the donkeys had not been interfered with by lions, I started off in the direction in which I had seen the fire in the hope of being able to get some help. The camp proved to be that of some East Indians, who were taking food to a party of railway surveyors who were out ahead, and they supplied me with some rice and let me have a couple of boys, and with this assistance I got started again, and managing to pick up a few boys here and there, I finally reached railhead, after a tiresome and worrying journey.

My stay here was short, and I was soon on the road again, this time taking up food for the troops engaged in quelling the mutiny up in Uganda. Owing to the religious prejudices of the sepoys, all this food had to be brought from India, and transported from the coast by carriers, at a cost of two rupees per pound weight, so that it must have cost the Government at least 10s. per day to keep a private soldier in food alone, while, by comparison, the white officers were costing practically nothing, as they were able to live almost entirely on the country itself. My own experience convinces me that Indian troops are practically useless in Africa, owing to their not being able to live on the country, and I hold the same opinion with regard to the coolies working on the Uganda Railway, which I consider could have been built much more cheaply with white labour.

With the experience obtained on the previous trip, I had organized my safari for the second trip on different lines, being, among other things, careful to select my men from different tribes. When travelling in Africa, I have found it advisable never to get all the men from one tribe, as when the tribes are mixed they are less likely to mutiny or desert, or cause trouble in other ways. I also took care to have my tent with me on this trip, and when the caravan was ready to start I had, in addition to the donkey-wagons, about 120 native porters.

I might say here that the porters of East Africa, taking them all round, are a happy, careless lot. They will go through the greatest hardships on a journey, and on their return at once forget all their troubles in the pleasure of spending their wages as quickly as possible. They are chiefly Swahili, with a mixture of a few other tribes, such as the Wakamba. The Masai, however, even to this day, will not lower themselves to carry loads.

I had by this time learned a little of the language, and had hopes that by the time I returned Gibbons would have got back, and we should be able to start on the journey we had originally planned. News travels quickly in Africa—indeed, with such remarkable speed as to be mysterious to the European mind—and I had heard that Gibbons was still up in Uganda, and later I received a letter to say that he was ill.

This question of the rapid transmission of news among the native races, both in Africa and India, has for a long time been a favourite subject for discussion and argument among white men who have had much to do with the native races. The well-known instances of the disaster to Hicks Pasha’s force and the fall of Khartoum being known in the bazaars of Cairo long before any official intimation was received by the Government are cases in point. Personally, after fifteen years spent in close association with natives in Africa, I have absolutely no belief in the theory of any superhuman agency being employed. In the first place, there is always the fact that much of this wonderfully transmitted news is false, which discounts the value of such news generally and discredits its value though it turns out afterwards to be true. The white man who has sufficient experience of the nigger and his ways can generally winnow the grain of truth from the bushel of fiction with which it is wrapped about; while in the next place it must be borne in mind that the natives nearly all have recognized methods of passing news quickly from one point to another, of which I may mention a few.

The Kikuyu shouts his news from hill to hill, while the Masai runner thinks no more of carrying a message sixty miles in a day than we should of a three-mile stroll: the Congolese have a system of whistle signals, by which they can convey messages from one end of a district to the other in a very short time; while the West African native tells his news from village to village by means of a sort of Morse code, tapped out on drums. The Matabele uses a system of signalling by long and short obscurations of a fire, by means of a skin, or in daytime by long or short puffs of smoke regulated by the same means; while the Red Indian of North America was in the habit of using a similar method of communication. By these various methods it is quite possible to convey news enormous distances in a remarkably short space of time, and I think that they are quite sufficient to account for the many remarkable stories told of this sort of thing, without calling in the theory of any unknown agency at all.

I accomplished the trip with the food for the soldiers without any mishap, and began the return journey to railhead, travelling light, with nothing on the wagons; and having by this time become thoroughly used to the work, and knowing better how to handle the men, things went much more smoothly than on the previous trip.

The nights being cooler, and much more pleasant for travelling, we took advantage of the moonlight for our treks, resting during the daytime so that the donkeys could graze. There was something very fascinating about this moonlight travelling in the clear night air, with the stillness only broken by the sound of the wagon wheels and the patter of the donkeys’ hoofs, whilst the long procession of black porters looked ghostly in the semi-darkness. Occasionally the surrounding silence would be broken by the sound of some wild animal disturbed by our approach, then all was quiet again.

As we were travelling light, it was not necessary to have all the donkeys inspanned in the wagons, and the spare animals were allowed to run loose alongside, stopping occasionally as they went along to crop a few mouthfuls of grass, then trotting on again to join the caravan. I was lying down on one of the wagons, half dozing, one night, when I was roused by the donkeys suddenly increasing their pace, and looking up, I saw a lion stealthily approaching one of the donkeys running loose by the roadside. I immediately jumped off the wagon and called to the men, but by this time the donkeys were all bolting with fright, and it was only with a good deal of difficulty that the wagons were stopped. By now the lion I had first seen was nowhere in sight, but another, probably his mate, was approaching the donkeys from another direction. I could see him coming leisurely along, evidently intent on a feed, and I prepared to receive him. I had still the same old gun, and having only a few cartridges, I waited for the animal to approach near, so as to become as good a target as possible. The brute had, so far, been facing me, and as moonlight is deceptive, to get a good shot I allowed him to come as close as I thought advisable. Just as I was going to fire he stopped, apparently uncertain what to make of the situation, and as I hesitated for a moment he turned slightly, and I fired immediately, and hit him in the shoulder. With a savage growl, he gave a jump into the air, and then began to tear up the ground in a great rage. The sound of the report and the growls of the lion again caused the donkeys to bolt, which spoiled my aim for the second shot. I could tell that I had wounded him severely, and thought that I would go into camp, as I had intended, a little farther on, and then return when daylight came and find out whether I had really killed him. It was about three o’clock when we camped, and we remained quiet for about two and a half hours waiting until it was sufficiently light to go out again to look for him. Going back to the spot where the encounter had taken place, we found a large quantity of blood, which showed that I had wounded him severely, but the lion was not to be seen. After following the blood spoor for about a mile I saw the animal crouching in the scrub. We had been going very cautiously, and had got within about twenty yards of him, before we were made aware of his presence by a deep growl. Kneeling down and taking careful aim, I fired two or three shots, which I knew must have hit him by the thud of the bullet. Past experience had taught me not to approach too closely until certain that the brute was dead, as they are often most dangerous when you least expect it, so we waited some time before approaching the body, when we found that the last shots had really settled him. The boys skinned the carcass, and a great scramble ensued for the fat, which is greatly valued for certain healing properties it is supposed to possess. I know myself that it is a grand thing for rheumatism. The skin was brought back to the camp, at Lake Elmenteita, in triumph. This camp was known to the natives by the name of Camp Mabrook, from the fact that a big Arab trader named Mabrook, with all his safari, was murdered there while on his way up to Uganda.

My present safari I had equipped with the proceeds of my first trip to the Ravine, and as both trips had been successful, I was doing well. I had also heard from Gibbons that he was not coming back, and so the donkeys and wagons fell to me, as my share of the partnership.

My next contract was to carry rice for the porters accompanying the railway surveyors going from railhead up the Molo River, the distance being about the same as to the Ravine, but the road in this case branched off at Nakuru, going up more directly towards the Lake Victoria Nyanza.

As I was getting 30 rupees a load for this transport, and carrying 100 loads, I stood to make £200 on the journey, my expenses not being more than £50 for the trip. But it so happened that I was rather unlucky. Everything went well until I branched off at Nakuru, where I had to leave the caravan road and strike off across country. Here the road was so difficult for the wagons that I could only make a few miles each day. To add to our troubles, water was very scarce, and when we had travelled two days without finding any, both donkeys and men were exhausted, and I began to feel doubtful of getting through.

I had with me a couple of Masai who knew the country, and they assured me that we should find water not far away, but as we did not come to it as soon as they had led me to expect, I outspanned, and taking my rifle and one of the boys, I set off to find it.

In Africa one learns to judge from the formation of the country and the nature and state of the vegetation where one might expect to find water, and I was very successful in locating it, my judgment often proving right when the guides assured me that there was no water near. On this occasion it was nearly dark when we came to a swamp, and being terribly thirsty, we at once started drinking the dirty water, without stopping to look any farther, and, to our great disgust, afterwards found that there was a beautiful stream of running water only a few yards from where we had been drinking, which made us repent of our haste to quench our thirst. People who live in the civilized parts of the world can never really appreciate the true value of water. To the traveller in Africa it is the one thing he learns to prize above all others, and it is not surprising, therefore, to find the natives in some parts worshipping it as their god, since they know of no higher blessing.

Taking some of the water from the stream with us, we returned to camp and gave all the men a good drink, and early next morning I left the wagons, and took all the donkeys to have a good drink and a good feed as well, as there was plenty of good grazing in the neighbourhood of the stream. The animals appeared to be thoroughly knocked up, and far from well, which I put down to their having been so long without water, though I was by no means sure that they had not been tampered with by the Masai drivers. The Masai are blood drinkers, and when they have a chance will make an incision in the jugular vein of an animal and thus drink its blood, and I had little doubt that this was what they had been doing to my donkeys while I was away looking for the water.

I brought up the wagons, and camped by the stream throughout the next day, as I saw that there was a good crossing over the stream, and the country was simply full of game. What struck me as most remarkable here was the tameness of the zebra, who were mixed up among my donkeys, all quietly grazing together near the wagons.

The condition of the donkeys began to get worse, and one by one they began to fall sick and die. Then the boys began to desert, as is the habit of the nigger when things begin to go wrong, and each day saw me with one donkey and one boy less.

It was part of my contract that the loads should be delivered by a certain time, otherwise I had to pay a heavy penalty—about two rupees a load for every twenty-four hours after the time fixed—so, as I had only some twenty-five miles farther to go, I set to work to collect the loads, intending to complete the rest of the journey without the wagons, by taking the rice on the donkeys’ backs. By doing this I managed to get the journey completed and the loads delivered only a day or so after the proper time, but when I had finished the journey I found myself with just one donkey and three boys left!

It was impossible to take the wagons back without donkeys, so, taking the lid off one of the food boxes, I painted on it with wagon grease “Dead Donkey Camp,” and having stuck this up I left the wagons, and never saw them again, while with my three boys and my sole remaining donkey I started to trek back to Naivasha.

On the way back I met one or two parties surveying, who all complained of the difficulty of getting food, and said that their people were more or less starving. Rice was very difficult to get, as it had to be shipped to Mombasa and then brought up-country, while the cost of transport, as I have pointed out, was very heavy, and no food was to be got from the Nandi country, which lay between us and the Lake Victoria Nyanza.

Everybody knew that the Kikuyu country was full of food, but any parties which had gone out to buy supplies there had always been killed by the natives: in one instance a party had been attacked within about thirty miles of the Government station at Fort Smith, and nearly every man killed.

Food was wanted, I found, for the Government stations on the caravan road, as well as for the surveying parties on the line of the Uganda Railway, and as it was worth a rupee a pound, I thought I saw a good chance of making some money by trying my luck in the Kikuyu country.

Although I had lost all my wagons, I had not lost my desire for further adventure, and the opportunity of getting away into some hitherto unexplored part of the country, where there was a prospect of getting the adventures I wanted, together with a chance of making enough money to repair my misfortunes, seemed too good to be lost.

Arriving at Naivasha, I made a few inquiries, and found that I could get into the Kikuyu country by going north, crossing the Kinangop Plain, through the Masai country, and over the Aberdare Range—the highest peak of which is about 12,000 feet.

I thought that this would be the best point at which to enter the country, as, for one thing, it was the nearest to Naivasha, and if I was lucky enough to get the food, it would be easier to get it to the place where it was most needed.

CHAPTER IV

Government official tries to prevent me going into the Kikuyu country—Give the official the slip—My first acquaintance with the Kikuyu—Meet Karuri, the Kikuyu chief—Hospitable reception—Kikuyu village attacked because of my presence in it—I help to beat off the attack—Successful trading—Build a house in the Kikuyu village—Native theory as to the origin of the Kikuyu race—I help defend my Kikuyu friends from hostile raids, and beat off the enemy—Benefit of my conciliatory counsels—Pigasani and blood brotherhood

Having made up my mind to go into the Kikuyu country, I set about preparing my safari, for which I decided to take with me only seven boys, natives who knew the language, to act as porters and carry the goods I was taking with me for trading with the Kikuyu. Having persuaded them that it would be all right, I armed myself with a rifle and fifty rounds of ammunition, and set out to explore the unknown.

When the official in charge of the station found that I had really started, he sent out an escort, under Sergeant Miles, to bring me back, and, of course, I had to go. When I got back to Naivasha, he asked me if I was trying to commit suicide. He said he dare not let me go, as I was certain to get killed, and he would then be held responsible for allowing me to leave his district. I told him that I would give him a written statement that I was going entirely on my own responsibility, and if I got killed it would not matter to him. His reply was that it was incumbent upon him not to allow me to leave his district. When I asked how far his district extended, he said to the Kedong Valley, about twenty miles from Naivasha.

I have before stated that the Government officials were strongly opposed to white men coming into the country, and Captain Gorges, who was in command at Naivasha, was only carrying out the orders of his superiors in trying to stop me. At this time there were only about ten white men who were independent traders and hunters in the whole of what are now the East African and Uganda Protectorates, besides the Government officials and missionaries—practically the whole of the latter class being up in Uganda. We were told plainly that we were not wanted, and were not even allowed to have guns and ammunition with which to protect ourselves; while the Arab and Swahili traders were allowed to overrun the country as they pleased, carrying and purchasing arms and ammunition as freely as they liked. This state of affairs may have been due to there being no organized administration in the country, off the caravan road; but it is peculiarly consistent with the Downing Street policy which prevails pretty well throughout our African dependencies, and which seems to be based on the principle that, in the eyes of Colonial Office officials, a native is more to be considered than any three white men.

To get beyond the jurisdiction of the official at Naivasha I went off to the Kedong Valley, which forms a portion of the great “rift” or depression which seems to divide the continent of Africa east from west into two portions, and which in those days was the boundary between British East Africa and Uganda. Naturally, I did not advertise my intention, but my determination was, as soon as I got out of his district, to start for the Kikuyu country, and by taking this step I avoided all further opposition and duly set out for my Land of Promise.

It was before the end of the year 1898 that, striking camp one morning, I entered the Kinangop Plain, a favourite grazing-ground of the Masai. The plain is a fine stretch of open country, rising in a gradual slope from the caravan road for about one thousand feet or more to the commencement of the bamboo forest,[^[5]] which is known to the natives by the name of Menzini, “the place of bamboos.” Owing to the elevation of this plain, rains are more frequent here, and when the lower lands are dry and parched, rich pasturage is to be found on the plain, while the ground is generally moist, and, on account of the lower temperature, its surface is often covered with a white rime in the mornings, and the air is cool and refreshing. The herds of sheep and cattle browsing suggest a country scene, such as is common in the Old Country.

[5]. The bamboo forests fringe the higher slopes of most of the mountains of East Africa, between the grass line and the windswept heights.

As I was accompanied by two Masai boys, I met with no opposition from the warriors of that tribe camped on the plain to look after the safety of the herds; and during the first day’s march we travelled about thirty miles, camping that night about eight thousand feet up the mountainside, where we found the air very cold. Game was everywhere in abundance, and I also noticed a few elephant tracks; so the next morning we had a look round, and followed the elephant tracks, which we found went through the forest and over the mountain. We had great difficulty in forcing our way through the trackless bamboo forest. The bamboos grow as thick as wheat in a wheatfield, and even where the elephants had forced a way the trees they had broken were lying across their path. Bordering on the forest were steep precipices, the depth of which was so great that objects in the valley below could only be very indistinctly seen. That night we ascended to a height of between eleven thousand and twelve thousand feet, and passing over the crest of the mountain, began the descent of the other side. Making a long day’s trek, it was almost dark when we again camped for the night, still in the bamboo forest which covers the mountain-side.

So far we had met none of the Kikuyu people, and, continuing our march, we arrived, on the third day, in sight of the first native village. I had heard some one cutting wood in the forest off our road, and the news of our coming had spread. At the first sight of us the natives had started running away, but we soon heard the native war-cry being taken up from hill to hill round about, and could catch occasional glimpses of the natives themselves as they gathered in force towards the village. They were certainly a wild-looking lot, with their bodies smeared all over with grease and red clay, or, in some cases, a kind of whitewash, in which patterns were drawn according to the fancy of each individual, while fastened to the leg was a rattle, with an iron ball inside, which, as they moved about, made a noise very much like a railway train. Many of them wore wonderful head-dresses, made of the skin of the colobus monkey, and all were armed with spears and shields. These details I managed to notice as we were moving towards them.

KIKUYU WARRIOR

In a short time quite five hundred warriors, fully armed, were drawn up outside the village, and, getting within speaking distance, I told my Masai interpreter to tell them that I had come to see the chief of the district.

Never having seen a white man before, they regarded me with something like awe, being evidently puzzled at my appearance, and were at a loss how to act. The fact that I had ventured to come there alone was, in itself, quite enough to surprise and astonish them, and, noting the impression I had made, I knew that if I was to succeed with them I must keep up an attitude of fearlessness.

After my interpreter had spoken, a guide came forward to conduct me to the chief, whose name was Karuri. Accompanying the guide to the chief’s kraal, I was met by Karuri, who demanded to know what I wanted.

This important personage, who to-day collects the hut tax for the British Administration, would hardly be recognized as the savage warrior chief who now stepped forward to meet the first white man he had ever seen in his own country (as before explained, others had thought it more prudent to go round the outskirts). It was a strange meeting, and one which was to have great consequences for both of us. As time went on Karuri was to become my friend and right-hand supporter, while I, in turn, was to have an influence over him and his people which was to raise him to the position of a great chief and myself to supreme power in the country—a virtual King of the Kikuyu.

Through my interpreter, I explained as fully as possible my mission to his country, in answer to his inquiry. I said that I had come to see his country and was anxious to trade with him and to buy food. He then questioned me as to the force I had brought with me; to which I replied that, as my mission was a peaceable one, I had left most of my guns in the forest to avoid trouble, but that if he harmed me, my people would come and make war on him. This pardonable untruth seemed to make the desired impression on him, and he allowed me to give him a present of cloth, which he accepted with every appearance of pleasure. After this his manner became more friendly, and when I signified my intention of making a long stay in his country he readily agreed that his men should build a hut for me.

His people still regarded me suspiciously, but obeyed my orders when I told them to fetch wood, and set about the building of the hut, under my instructions. They also brought me a sheep and some flour and sweet potatoes, and, as I had by this time got a fire going, I had a good meal cooked for myself and my men, the Kikuyu all the time looking on with much interest.

WA-KIKUYU MAIDENS

In the meanwhile I had been looking round and taking stock of the neighbourhood, and a wilder scene it would be hard to imagine. The Kikuyu country is a succession of small hills, separated by deep valleys, lined with water-courses fed from the higher country, while the hills are beautifully wooded, except where the trees have been cleared away to get patches of ground for the cultivation of crops.

The village, which was situated on the high ground in a large clearing in the forest, consisted of a cluster of round huts, surrounded by a high thorn fence, or boma, high enough and thick enough to make any attempt at forcing an entrance by a force unprovided with good axes a matter of great difficulty. The entrance through the boma was by means of a narrow tunnel, made of large slabs of wood, sunk deeply in the ground, with the tops interlocking at such an angle that any one wishing to enter had to crawl through it on hands and knees. The walls of the huts were made of huge slabs of wood, fashioned out of large trees by the simple process of cutting portions off the trunk until it was reduced to the required thickness. These slabs were placed upright in the ground, close together, in the form of a circle, and a thatched roof built up over them. By the side of the huts, which were built without any attempt at regularity, were smaller structures, with basket floors and grass roofs, which I found were used as granaries, or larders, in which to store the food.

The people who gathered round us while the meal was being got ready were a fierce-looking crowd, their bodies being disfigured with paint and hung about with rough ornaments. Every one seemed to be discussing me, and, by the looks cast in my direction, debating whether, after all, they should not kill me. Not knowing what might happen, I kept my rifle near me and my bandolier in readiness in case of a sudden attack. After a time they became more inquisitive, and began to examine my clothes, which were something quite new to them, as they had never seen anything of the sort before. The boots puzzled them the most, as they appeared to think they were actually part of my feet, which they seemed to think very curiously constructed. Some of them pushed their curiosity to the extent of wanting to examine my rifle, but this I refused to let go out of my hand.

My interpreter said that they thought I was very foolish to come among them with only one rifle, so I told him to tell them that this gun was different from any that they had ever seen before and far more effective than those carried by Arab and Swahili traders. This gun, I explained, could kill six men with one shot, and I told them that I would show them what it would do by firing at a tree. It happened to be the old Martini-Metford, so, putting in a solid cartridge, I chose a tree that I knew the bullet would go through and fired. They immediately rushed in a body to see what damage had been done, and when they found the hole where the bullet had gone in and come out the other side they were both considerably surprised and impressed. I assured them that that was nothing; if they would examine the side of the mountain beyond they would find that the bullet had gone right through that as well! I knew that only sheer bluff could bring me safely out of the position in which I had voluntarily placed myself, and so made the best use of every opportunity that arose of impressing them.

Turning into my hut, I kept awake practically all night, fearing that some treachery might be attempted, but fell asleep at last, to be awakened early in the morning by an awful row of war-horns and men shouting and running about in every direction. By the time I had rubbed the sleep out of my eyes I saw a crowd of very excited natives rushing in a body towards my hut, and fully expected that I was in for a tough fight. However, far from intending to attack me, they had come to implore my help for themselves. It seemed that though Karuri, in his younger days, had been a powerful chief, his influence had waned as he grew older, and the tribe being split up into clans, something like the Highlanders in the old days, in the absence of a chief sufficiently strong to keep the various sections in order, they were continually indulging in petty wars among themselves. One of the neighbouring clans had heard of my arrival, and, objecting to the presence of any white man in the country, had promptly attacked Karuri’s village, with the object of disposing of me once for all, and a big fight, in which a number of people had already been killed, was then in progress, while, on looking out of my hut, I saw that a portion of the village was in flames.

My duty was clear. These people had brought the trouble on themselves by befriending me, and the least I could do was to give them such help as I could. Besides, I wished to remain in the country, and if these people were worsted—even if I escaped with my life, which was very unlikely—I should have to get out and stay out, for some considerable time, at any rate. It did not take me long to make up my mind, and, seizing my rifle, I made for the scene of the fight, accompanied by a crowd of yelling savages, delighted at my decision. When I arrived the row was at its height and the sight of the hand-to-hand conflict among the warriors, surrounded by the burning huts, was a stirring one. Seeing the reinforcements, headed by myself, coming up, the attackers began to waver, and when I had fired a few shots with effect, finally turned tail and bolted. After pursuing them for some distance, to make sure that they were completely scattered, the triumphant warriors returned to the village, and made quite a hero of me, being convinced that their victory was entirely due to my help. This incident was of the greatest value to me, as it fully established my reputation as a useful member of the community, and they became very friendly. I learned that they had had a lot of trouble with this particular clan, who had frequently raided them, killing many of their men, and carrying off their cattle, and sometimes their women.

After this Karuri came to ask me if I would stop in his country, and I told him I would think about it. I said that I had other work to do, but that if he would sell me flour and other foodstuffs I would come back to him. I told him that the flour was for friends of mine, who were coming along the caravan road. He said that he did not want any more white people in the country. I could stop as long as I liked myself, and his people would be my friends, but they did not mean to have any strangers. I explained that though my friends were coming along the caravan road they had no intention or desire to enter the country. This explanation seemed to satisfy them, and I told them that I would not decide at once about staying in the country, but that when I had taken the flour to my friends I would come back and talk matters over with them. They then asked what I had to give in exchange for the flour, and I produced a bottle of iodoform, some of which I had used on their wounds after the fight with good effect. They thought it was a great medicine, and all wanted some, and in exchange for a small quantity, wrapped in paper, would give from ten to twenty pounds of flour.

They looked upon me as a great medicine man, and members of the tribe came to me daily to be cured of various complaints during the fortnight I stayed with them while the food I wanted was being collected and brought in. When it was all in I found that I had about two hundred loads, and the trouble then was to find porters to carry it out of the country; but by dint of persuasion I finally succeeded in impressing a number of the people into my service, and started off with my loads.

On account of my little difference with Captain Gorges I decided not to go to Naivasha, but to carry my loads down towards the Kedong. As the route to the Kedong Valley led through the Masai country, my men would not go right through with it, so I set them to build a hut on the caravan road, where I established a store for the flour, and within a few days I sold the lot to the railway surveyors and caravans for about thirty rupees a load, which made me highly satisfied with the result of my first venture among the Kikuyu. It was on this journey that I first saw the native method of starting a fire by means of the “fire-stick,” though subsequently I found it very useful on many occasions when, owing to the dampness during the rainy season, my matches would not light satisfactorily. The fire-stick itself is a piece of hard wood, about eighteen inches in length, of the thickness of a lead pencil and pointed, and is carried in the quiver with the arrows. The method of using it differs somewhat from that practised by certain tribes who are accustomed to use a sort of mandril in connexion with it. The Kikuyu always carry, as well as the fire-stick, a piece of wood of a softer kind, about a foot long and two or three inches wide, which, when they wish to make a fire, they place between their feet, holding it in position with their toes. The pointed fire-stick is inserted into a hole in the soft wood and rapidly revolved between the flat of their two hands until the dust worn off the softer wood by the friction begins to glow. This burning dust is then quickly tossed into the middle of a little bundle of dry bark fibre, always carried by the owner of the drill. The little bundle is then taken between the hands and gently blown up until it shows signs of blazing, when it is placed in the middle of a little heap of dried twigs and leaves which has been prepared in readiness. A little careful manipulation soon produces a blaze.

I was also able to purchase a large quantity of trade goods, beads, cloth, &c., from Arab traders going up to Uganda, and sent to Karuri for more natives to carry my purchases back to Kikuyu, where, on my return, I paid them for their services in cloth, which seemed to make them still more anxious for me to remain among them.

Having finally announced my decision to stay in the Kikuyu country, at any rate for a time, I selected a site for a house, and got them to help me with the building. I found that they had a sort of native axe, somewhat similar to those in use in the South Sea Islands, made with a very small head, which is fixed to the club which forms the haft by a spike projecting from the back, which is driven through the haft and projects for two or three inches at the back—and with these and the swords, with which every man is armed, they cut down trees from the forest, and a house in the European style was built for me.

In connexion with these swords I may mention a peculiar custom which illustrates the treacherous nature of these people. They invariably wear the sword on the right side, as when worn in that position it is much easier to make a treacherous attack on an opponent while approaching apparently with the friendly intention of shaking hands!

Their method of tree-cutting was a somewhat dangerous one, as they simply cut into the tree near the ground, without any regard to the direction in which it was likely to fall, so that serious injuries during tree-felling operations were by no means uncommon. The Kikuyu never use nails, but by dint of careful explanation, I was able to get the native blacksmiths to make me a very efficient substitute.[^[6]] The natives were very much interested in the building operations, and when the house was finished I used to invite the chief and his headmen to visit me there. The house, which was built in the bungalow style, common to European houses in the tropics, looked very well, and though the windows were, of course, unglazed, I had shutters made, with which I could close them at night.

[6]. I have read that the use of nails was practically unknown in England until the latter half of the eighteenth century.

In the meanwhile I had been getting better acquainted with the country, and found that the people lived in a constant state of civil war. Every day men came to me to have their wounds dressed, and I heard of many being killed. As I have already said, the country was very mountainous, and each hill had its own chief, who lived in a state of continual warfare with his neighbours. No man was safe in travelling about the country, except on certain days when a sort of general market was held, during the continuance of which a truce seemed to exist, hostilities being resumed again as soon as it was over. Karuri used to visit me nearly every day, and from him I learned all about the country. Even he seemed afraid to go far from his own village, and, as this state of affairs was very bad for my plans of trading, I determined to do what I could towards reducing the country to something like order.

I gathered, from conversations with Karuri[Karuri] and the older men of the village, that at one time the country was believed to have been covered with a vast forest, inhabited by a race of pigmies, whom they called Maswatch-wanya. These people did not cultivate the land, but lived by hunting, and the legend said that the wife of a Masai, who was very badly treated by her husband, was in the habit of taking refuge in the forest, with her little boy, from his cruelty. At first she used merely to stay in the forest for a time, and then return to her husband again; but at last his treatment of her became so bad that she left him altogether, and took refuge with the pigmies, and it was believed that the Kikuyu race were the descendants of the offspring of this woman. There is certainly a good deal of evidence to support the tradition, as they undoubtedly have Masai blood, use the same kind of weapons and shield, and in each case worship a god they call Ngai. I have also heard them singing Masai war-songs when going out to fight, and in a very large number of instances the physical resemblance between the two races is very strong.

I stayed some weeks with them this time, and found that there was a good deal of fighting going on, and that many of the friendly natives were being killed through the hostility to me of the neighbouring chiefs and their people. They strongly resented my intrusion into the country, and any of the natives known to be friendly towards me, or wearing any of the cloth I had given them, were immediately marked down for attack.

This sort of thing went on for some time, and they began to think that, because I took no action against their enemies, I was afraid of them. There were threats to kill me every day, and one night, after some of their villages had been burned, and a lot of the people killed, they came to me and asked me to take their part, saying that they had always been friendly towards me, and that was why these people were making war on them and robbing them.

I therefore sent a messenger to the offending chief, to say that if he did not return the stolen property, and pay compensation for the murders he had committed, I should have to go and compel him to do so. (The law of the country is that for every man killed a payment of one hundred sheep shall be made, and for every woman thirty sheep.) The chief simply returned an insulting message to the effect that we were afraid of him, and the next time he came he would kill me too.

A few days later I had a consultation with Karuri, and we came to the conclusion that the only thing to be done was to go out and fight the matter out with them, though I was strongly averse to getting mixed up in any of their quarrels. However, the matter was settled for us, for while we were still negotiating for a peaceful settlement of the difficulty, our enemies came down in force one day and attacked the village. They numbered altogether about five hundred warriors, while we could only muster about three hundred. They had been successful in previous raids because the people were scattered about in a number of small villages, and could not muster in sufficient force to beat them off, as they could always overwhelm a village and get away before any help could be brought to the spot. On this particular occasion, however, matters were a little different, as we had been expecting trouble, and had made arrangements to give them a warm reception if they should venture to come.

Our spies had been out for some time, and kept us well informed as to what was going on, and gave us good warning as to when we might expect to be attacked. As soon as the news of the approaching raid reached us, I mustered the fighting men and got ready to receive them. We were soon made aware of their approach by the sound of wild war-cries and savage yells, as well as by the flames of the burning villages, to which they set fire as they came along, and, meeting with no opposition, no doubt they anticipated an easy victory.

By this time I had taught my people to hold themselves in check, and act together, instead of each man fighting for his own hand. Waiting till they had got within easy striking distance, we poured in a volley of spears and arrows and I did service with my rifle. Following up the surprise caused by this unexpected reception, we were soon among them and engaged in a warm hand-to-hand fight, which lasted until we had beaten off the invaders and followed them right back into their own country. The battle, which had started in the early morning, lasted until midday, and, having administered severe punishment, we camped for the night in the enemy’s district.

We had had the good fortune to capture the enemy’s chief, who was brought a prisoner into our camp, and the next morning I consulted with Karuri as to what was to be done with him, and it was at last decided to hold a shauri (pronounced showari), or council, on the matter. I asked them what they would have done in a case like this if I had not been with them, and they replied that they would either have killed him or made him pay a heavy fine. I pointed out that killing him or making his people pay a heavy fine would only aggravate the enmity of these people, and so cause more trouble later on. I told them that it would be better to make the chief restore everything that had been stolen by him—not in previous years, but in the raids which had taken place during my stay among them, and to this course they finally agreed.

Within a few days all the stolen property was restored to its original owners, causing much rejoicing among them, as they had, of course, never expected to see any of it again. Of course, I took precautions to see that no friction occurred during the process of retransferring the recovered property, and having invited some of the chief men of both districts to my camp, we got on quite friendly terms. Seeing them sitting, eating and drinking together amicably, it was difficult to imagine that they had been cutting one another’s throats only a few days previously, but the Kikuyu, like many other African races, are remarkably changeable, and their temper can never be relied upon. As I learnt during my stay among them, they are both fickle and treacherous, and had it not been for my own people, I should have run great risk of being killed on several occasions, through trusting them too much.

I was very anxious to strengthen and maintain my friendship with these people and the surrounding clans, and, after some discussion on the matter, found that they had a ceremony, known as Pigasangi, which was supposed to be mutually binding. If it could be arranged for me to undergo this ceremony, there was every prospect of a lasting friendship being formed. This ceremony differs from that of blood brotherhood chiefly in that, while blood brotherhood establishes a friendly relationship with the individual, Pigasangi establishes it with the whole of the tribe or communities represented at the ceremony.

After some days the assembled chiefs consented to take part in the ceremony, and, accompanied by the natives who had always been friendly to me, and about fifteen of the old men of the district, I went to the chief’s village to make the necessary arrangements.

When we arrived at the village the people were already waiting to receive us, and there were signs of great festivity. Word had been sent round to all the villages that the ceremony was to take place, and, as it was looked upon as a great occasion for rejoicing, much dancing and beer-drinking were going on, and we were received with shouts of welcome and every sign of friendship. A large clearing had been selected for the occasion—the Kikuyu, like many other savage tribes, always choosing an open space for their ceremonies, or discussions of importance, as they were thus enabled to detect any would-be eavesdroppers before they could get near enough to overhear anything or to attempt any treachery. Nearly all native villages, I found, have a large space set apart in the neighbourhood for the holding of their shauris, dances, &c.

After a lot of superfluous oratory, the proceedings began with a black goat being brought in, with its feet tied up, and laid in the centre of the space. The natives then grouped themselves in a circle, with the chiefs and orators in the centre. Everybody taking part in the ceremony had previously disarmed, and, considering that there were over two thousand people present, it was remarkable how orderly and quiet the assembly was, everything being carried out without any hustling or disputing for right of place.

The native never speaks at any meeting of the tribe without a stick in his hand, and on the present occasion each speaker was provided with a number of sticks, having one for each subject of discussion, the sticks being thrown on the ground by each alternately as he went through his speech. First one side and then the other stated the points of the agreement, which, of course, had been carefully discussed beforehand, so that there should be no chance of argument during the ceremony. The main points were that there were to be no hostilities between the two clans in future, that they were to assist each other, and that neither should molest any white man coming through its country.

When all the sticks had been thrown down, they were collected, and being bound up in a bundle, were placed between the legs of the goat. The chief orator, whose stick was more like a club than the rest, then repeated the different conditions, at the end of each clause dealing the goat a heavy blow with his club whilst repeating a formula to the effect that any one breaking the agreement should die like that goat. By the time he had reached the last clause the animal was almost dead, and a particularly heavy blow dispatched it. After that no one dare touch the goat, which was regarded as sacred, and I learned that this was the opportunity to obtain any confession from a native, any one suspected of wrongdoing being asked to swear by the goat, when he would certainly tell the truth.

The ceremony was followed by more rejoicing and drinking of native beer.

This function considerably enlarged the area of friendly country, which now extended to the banks of one of the rivers which rises in the Aberdare Range, and flows in an easterly direction until it empties, as I afterwards found, into the River Tana.

On the other hand, the fact of these people making friends with me had the effect of increasing the enmity of the other chiefs, who remained outside the agreement, and feared that the effect of it would be to lead more white men to come into the country.

THE RIVER MORANDAT

CHAPTER V

Am established in the country—Native festivities and dances—Troubadours—Musical quickness of the natives—Dearth of musical instruments—My attempts at military organization—Hostile rumours—Preparations for resisting attack—Great battle and defeat of the attacking tribes—Victory due to skilful tactics of my Kikuyu force—Succeed in taking a large convoy of provisions into the starving Government stations—White men attacked and killed—Am supreme in the tribe—Native poisons—Although I am supplying the Government stations with food, I get no recognition at the hands of the officials.

The people in the immediate neighbourhood of the district where I was living now looked upon me as a great man. My advice had been good in their councils, and I had succeeded in bringing about peace with their bitterest enemies. They also regarded me as a great medicine man, on the strength of the iodoform, and of a bottle of Eno’s fruit salts, which they would come round in crowds to watch me drink, saying that the white man could drink boiling water; and they believed that I must have a stomach like iron, and, being utterly ignorant, my friends were firmly convinced that it was impossible to kill me.

The news of my presence spread all through the country, and many threats to kill me were uttered—it being reported that some of the hostile chiefs were banding together for that purpose.

In the meanwhile, I invited some of the principal witch doctors to come and live near me, and at intervals of about ten days I would get the natives round about to come up to my house to dance. These dances were always held during the daytime, and the women took no part in them. The Kikuyu are a very musical people, singing wherever they go, and the warriors would come to the dances in a body, singing as they marched along, and keeping as perfect time and step as a regiment of trained soldiers. First of all they would have a kind of march past, and then, falling out, would form a huge circle, with all the women and the old men on the outside. First one warrior and then another would dart out from the circle and go through some weird evolutions. Every man was fully armed as if going on the war-path, and the movements took the form of a fierce fight with an imaginary enemy, each man, as he jumped out of the circle, rushing round and spearing his imaginary foe. If the man was recognized as a great warrior, he was violently applauded by the onlookers, and, encouraged by the signs of approbation, would work himself up into a perfect frenzy; but if he was a man who had not distinguished himself in any way, or who was not popular among the tribesmen, his performance would be received in absolute silence.

One peculiar point that struck me about these people was the absence of any kind of musical instrument, even the usual drum. All their songs and dances were absolutely unaccompanied by any of the usual weird noises that, with most savage tribes, represent a musical accompaniment, and the only musical instrument that I ever knew of their making was a kind of whistle, something after the fashion of those made by boys at home from elder stems, and, I imagine, merely a toy; certainly I never saw them used by any but boys, and only on rare occasions by the boys themselves. I do not include among musical instruments the war-horn, an instrument usually made from the horn of a bullock or the koodoo, and which is used simply as an alarm.

One peculiar point about the applause on these occasions was that it was confined to the women, the men considering it beneath their dignity to make any demonstration, whether of approval or contempt. Although the women were not allowed to take any part in these dances themselves, they always appeared in full force as spectators, rigged out in their best go-to-meeting suits of skins, with their bodies plentifully smeared with grease, and wearing all their ornaments. When any favourite warrior had the floor, they expressed their approval by waving bunches of grass, and at the same time raising a musical chant of “lu-lu-lu-lu-lu.” This chant, by the way, was the common form of welcome among them, as, when my safaris returned from one of my trips to Naivasha with food, the women would all turn out as we approached a village and greet us with this cry, which was taken up from hill to hill as we went along.

They had some dances in which the women joined, and these were usually held at night round a big fire. The Kikuyu seem to have more varieties of dances than any natives I know, and are, on the whole, a light-hearted race, singing all day long.

They have a class of strolling minstrels, resembling more than anything the old troubadours of the Middle Ages. There were only five or six of these troupes in the country altogether, and, like the troubadours, they were a privileged class, travelling from place to place and extemporising songs about local events and people—not always without a strong tinge of sarcasm, which no one dared to resent.

The Kikuyu were particularly clever in picking up the songs introduced by these troubadours, and a song that took the popular fancy would be taken up at its first hearing, and spread through the country with as much, or even more rapidity than a music-hall ditty among the errand-boys of London, disappearing as rapidly when a new one came out.

There was a further resemblance to the troubadours in the fact that they dressed in a fashion of their own, and wore a ring of small bells strapped round each ankle, and a single large one of iron fastened to each knee. They seemed to be free to pass where they pleased throughout the country, and I consequently encouraged them to visit me—which some of them would do every week—as they were able to keep me informed as to what was going on all over the country, so that I was able to meet any emergency that might arise.

The dances I arranged as a means of bringing the people together, so that I could talk to them afterwards and explain various things to them which they did not at first understand, such as the coming of the white men, who, I explained, did not come to raid their villages and make slaves of them, but wished to be friends in trade with them.