_THE SEARCH FOR LORIAN._
Exchanging presents with the Rendili—El Hakim bitten by a scorpion—We
start for Lorian without guides—Zebra—Desolate character of the
country—Difficulties with rhinoceros—Unwillingness of our men to
proceed—We reach the limit of Mr. Chanler’s journey—No signs of Lorian.
The climate was still all that could be desired. The heat in the
daytime was terrific, but the air was so dry that it was quite
bearable. No dew fell at night, and sleeping in the open was, in
consequence, an unmixed pleasure. Our camp was about 1200 feet above
sea-level, and the temperature during the day could not have been much
less than 120° Fahr., which dropped at night to from 85° to 90° Fahr.
I made several short trips into the surrounding country in search of
fresh meat, but except a solitary grantei or wallerei at intervals,
the country was devoid of game. The flocks and herds of the Rendili
roamed so far afield in search of pasture that all the game within a
day’s march had been driven away. The guinea-fowl were very wild, and
I found my 20-bore was unable to deal with them, as it would not kill
far enough. Also we considered it unwise to do any shooting in the
near vicinity of the Rendili or Burkeneji villages, as the women and
children, being unaccustomed to firearms, were very much frightened by
the explosions, and it might possibly have proved a cause of friction,
which we of course wished to avoid.
About ten miles away to the north-east was the “Marisi-al-lugwazambo,”
or Zambo Plateau. It was of a most imposing-looking formation, its
sides being as steep and clean cut as if they had been shaped with a
knife. The sandy plain extended right up to the base of the plateau,
which rose fully 500 feet above the level of the surrounding country.
The plateau was composed chiefly of gneiss rock, with large blocks
of lava liberally sprinkled on its surface and sides. It is about
twenty-five miles long, with an average breadth of five miles.
A few days after our arrival Lubo came into camp with a present of
fifteen sheep. In return we gave him some coils of brass and iron wire
and about thirty yards of marduf, with which he professed himself very
pleased.
In and around our camp there were large numbers of centipedes and
scorpions, and it was quite exciting sometimes when a centipede was
discovered snugly ensconced in the blankets, just as one was going
to turn in. El Hakim, while turning over some pieces of cloth, when
making up Lubo’s present, was stung in the hand by a large scorpion.
It was pure white in colour, and consequently lay unnoticed among the
folds of the cloth. His arm soon became very painful, the armpit and
chest being immediately affected. Before the pain became too severe,
however, I injected a solution of morphia with a hypodermic syringe,
which relieved him greatly. The following morning the pain had almost
entirely subsided, and in a couple of days no further ill effects were
noticeable.
In the course of conversation with some of the Rendili elders, we were
surprised to hear that Lorian was only _two days’ march_ distant. We
were very much surprised, as Mr. Chanler made it at least forty-five
miles’ march over extremely difficult country, beyond the furthest
eastern spur of the Zambo Plateau, which itself lay some fifteen to
twenty miles distant from our camp. We expressed our incredulity,
but we were assured that the Rendili could reach it in two days. We
concluded, therefore, that, making every allowance for characteristic
Rendili exaggeration, Lorian was much nearer than we had thought, and
we had half decided to make an attempt to reach it, when a statement
by the assembled Rendili to the effect that there were “plenty of
elephants down there,” clinched the matter. We asked for guides, and as
Lubo promised that they should be forthcoming, we made our preparations
for a journey to the mysterious Lorian.
The next day, as no guides had put in an appearance, El Hakim and
George went over to Lubo’s village, to find out the reason for the
delay. Lubo, excusing himself, said that he was looking for guides, but
so far he had not got hold of any one who knew the way. Two more days
passed, but still no guides were forthcoming. Lubo was full of excuses
and promises, but as far as he was concerned the matter was allowed to
drop. Eventually we determined to make the journey without guides. We
could always follow the river, which of course would be a more tedious
journey, but there seemed no other way out of the difficulty.
On August 30th, therefore, we made a start, taking with us only a
dozen men, and leaving Jumbi and the bulk of the men in charge of our
camp, with instructions to continue buying sheep. The tents were left
behind with most of our other impedimenta, as we intended travelling
as lightly as possible. We took with us merely a blanket or two, the
necessary culinary utensils, my camera, some spare ammunition, and a
change of clothing apiece.
On leaving camp we skirted the north bank of the Waso Nyiro for some
miles, deviously threading our way among the palm trees. It was a
glorious excursion, this tramp through the cool dark glades beneath the
palms, where the remnants of the bright sunshine which filtered through
the leafy canopy overhead gave the scene the appearance of the interior
of a vast cathedral dimly illuminated by rays of sunshine through
stained glass windows. The effect was heightened by the occasional
glimpses between the palm trunks of the smooth shining surface of the
river, over which numbers of brilliantly coloured kingfishers darted to
and fro like the falling fragments of a shattered rainbow.
Presently we emerged on the river-bank at a likely looking spot for a
crossing. As we did so, a sliding, slipping sound, followed by a dull
splash, warned us of the presence of crocodiles, and an examination of
the bank showed us that three or four of the loathsome reptiles had
been basking in the sun at that very spot. The tracks were, however,
those of comparatively small ones, probably not more than six or eight
feet long. Across the river several others of about the same size,
as yet unaware of our presence, were basking on the sandbanks. The
noise made by the porters soon roused them, and they also disappeared,
with a wriggle and a flop, beneath the swirling stream. The river not
being very deep, scarcely four feet at the deepest part, we entered
the water and waded across, the men shouting and splashing with great
vigour, while casting many a sidelong glance at the turbid current.
Once across, our search for Lorian had commenced in good earnest,
and setting our faces to the eastward, we strode forward on a course
parallel to the south bank of the river.
An hour later we saw a herd of zebra, and George and I, after a long
and careful stalk, secured four. They were in prime condition, and very
plump, yet, strange to say, the country appeared to produce nothing
more nourishing than occasional clumps of coarse grass, or rather
straw, as it was burnt yellow by the fierce rays of the sun. These four
zebras were a veritable windfall, as they not only enabled the men who
accompanied us to lay in a few days’ supply for our journey down the
river, but by sending a messenger back to Jumbi he was enabled to send
for the remainder, which was sufficient to feed the men remaining in
camp for some days.
We camped on the river-bank, which we had some difficulty in regaining,
having to cut our way with knives and axes through the densely
interlaced bush and creepers which fringed the water’s edge. The
weather was delightful, though the heat in the open was terrific, this
camp being situated within one degree of the equator, and not more than
one thousand two hundred feet above sea-level.
On starting the following morning we found that the river curved away
to the northward, rounding the easterly spur of the Zambo Plateau. As
we proceeded, the luxuriant tropical vegetation gave way to scattered
acacias and patches of burnt-up elephant grass. The soil underfoot also
changed in character, the rocky outcrops and boulders of quartz and
gneiss almost entirely disappearing. In their place were vast stretches
of smooth shining sand, alternated with patches of loose brown earth,
as soft and crumbly as starch, which made travelling a matter of great
toil and difficulty. Game was very plentiful. I shot a grantei during
the morning, and when we halted for lunch I secured three water-buck.
After we had eaten and rested awhile we resumed the march. The aspect
of the country grew worse and worse. The brown crumbling soil gave way
under our feet; it seemed so rotten that it was unable to bear our
weight, and at every step we sank into it over our knees, our passage
raising a brown impalpable dust which choked our eyes, ears, and
nostrils in a most uncomfortable and disconcerting manner. The mules
suffered even more than ourselves. It was impossible to ride them, as
at every stride they sank up to their hocks in the rotten earth, and
floundered about in a most pitiful and distressing manner. The sand,
which seemed so smooth and firm on the surface, was also honeycombed
underneath by some agency or other. I had a nasty fall from this cause
during the afternoon’s march. I was riding the big mule, when the sand
suddenly collapsed under her forefeet and she went down on her chest,
afterwards rolling over on my leg, pinning me to the ground. In her
struggles she kicked me in the side several times, inflicting severe
bruises. Ramathani secured her head, and I was pulled from under her,
feeling badly shaken and very faint. The mule then broke away and raced
across country, kicking her heels in the air in delighted freedom. She
was not caught for over an hour, during which I had to stumble along in
the burning sun as best I could, with my head spinning like a top, and
my temper considerably above the boiling-point. We concluded a weary
march by sundown, and again camped under the palms on the river-bank.
These palms formed a home for large troops of baboons and little
monkeys, who chattered unceasingly. After our meagre meal of fried meat
we retired. The moon was in the first quarter and shed a little light
after the sun had set, and we laid back in our blankets and, gazing up
at the palms, spent an hour or so in desultory conversation, or perhaps
discussing our route for the morrow. As the sun set the night-birds
appeared, and tuned up, preparatory to their usual concert, lasting
from sunset to sunrise. One bird in particular went regularly up and
down the scale, starting from D, and mounting by leaps and bounds over
a couple of octaves, descended again. This performance was repeated
with maddening insistency during the greater part of the night.
At sunrise on the morning of September 1st we were again on the road.
We saw several herds of water-buck on the banks of the Waso Nyiro, but
they were very shy and most difficult to approach. The river ran in a
direction almost due north. The further we followed it to the north
and east the scarcer became the vegetation. Rhinoceros became once
more unpleasantly numerous, and during that morning’s march we dodged
several who at one time bade fair to disperse our little company. I
suppose that they have their uses, though they are inconvenient at
times. I know of nothing better for livening up the monotony of an
otherwise uninteresting march, than a crusty old rhino who has just
been roused from a refreshing nap. A lion does not create half so
much excitement. El Hakim and George had to bestir themselves on one
occasion during the morning, in order to prevent accident. It was
in this wise. I was marching ahead, and contemplating as I went the
manifold beauties of nature. A few yards behind me rode in silence El
Hakim and George, also contemplating the beauties of nature—or were
they thinking of the approach of lunch time? Anyhow, we were some few
hundred yards ahead of the men when an agonized yell from Ramathani,
who was in the rear, caused us to look round. There, not forty yards
away, were two rhinoceros, a mother and a half-grown young one, coming
straight for us with speedy but noiseless footsteps. I instantly took
up a strategic position on the opposite side of an adjacent bush, and
became an interested spectator, taking the precaution, however, to slip
a cartridge into my rifle in case it should be needed. El Hakim and
George dismounted with such rapidity that they almost seemed to fall
off. Letting go the mules, who dashed away at full speed, they also
selected a bush from which to view the procession, both of them being
unarmed. The rhinos were by that time hardly half a dozen yards behind
them, and scarcely had they slipped behind their respective bushes when
the brutes charged right between us and went on. Not twenty seconds
could have elapsed from the time Ramathani’s warning shout reached
us to the time the rhinos passed, but to us it seemed nearer twenty
minutes. I give this instance—one of many—to show how pleasantly one is
kept on the _qui vive_ in the districts where the rhinoceros abounds,
be the landscape ever so monotonous, or the march ever so weary.
After a march lasting from sunrise till ten o’clock in the forenoon we
halted for breakfast, or lunch, as we variously called our first meal,
according to the time of day at which we made our halt. The continuous
meat diet was getting very monotonous and unpalatable, chiefly owing
to the absence of sufficient fat for cooking purposes. Our tobacco, of
which, owing to some inadvertence on our departure from the Rendili
camp, we had brought only a very small supply, gave out on this day,
and we were thus deprived of another solace in the midst of the trials
and difficulties of the journey.
After we had breakfasted we made our simple preparations for resuming
the march, but to our dismay we found that the mules had disappeared.
The man in charge of them while they were grazing had carelessly let
them wander, and they were not to be found. We eventually discovered
their tracks leading back over the path we had traversed in the
morning, and we immediately sent some of the men in chase. They
returned in an hour with the refractory animals, and we set off once
more on our journey down the river. We saw immense herds of game on the
road, including giraffe, buffalo, rhinoceros, grantei, and water-buck,
and now and again we passed old elephant and lion tracks.
To the south and east the shining desert extended away to the horizon,
with only a few thorny acacias to relieve the general appearance of
sameness. Troops of baboons squatted on the sand or skipped about like
children at play, their hoarse barks being interpreted by our little
puppy as a challenge, which, however, he wisely declined to accept.
At sundown we camped under a clump of palms, and turned in early,
thoroughly tired out. For myself, during the whole of our journey
to Lorian and back, I slept in paragraphs, so to speak, waking at
intervals all through the night, a result contributed to in no small
degree by the up-and-down-the-scale-two-octaves bird I have already
mentioned.
The following day we were on our way again at sunrise. An hour
afterwards we entered the most desolate region it had so far been our
ill luck to traverse. Trees and palms disappeared, and their place was
taken by coarse dry elephant grass eight or ten feet in height. The
country bore unmistakable signs of having been under water not so very
many seasons before. It was pitted in every direction by elephant,
rhinoceros, and hippopotamus tracks, which must have been made when the
earth was very soft, as they averaged from a foot to eighteen inches
in depth. These caused us great inconvenience, as, being hidden by
the long grass, we stumbled in and out of them in a most unpleasant
way, jarring our teeth and our tempers with great frequency. In our
endeavours to find some sort of a path we lost the river, leaving it as
we thought on our extreme left, and in searching for it, to our intense
surprise, we walked nearly into it. It was flowing between perfectly
perpendicular banks about six feet in height, and in a direction
at right angles to its course at the commencement of the morning’s
march. It was now little more than a large ditch, and required to be
followed very carefully, as there were no trees on the banks to mark
its position. This immense dried swamp is called by Mr. Chanler the
Kirrimar Plain. Personally I am of opinion that in wet seasons, or
after a series of wet seasons, that portion of it immediately adjoining
the river forms part of a swamp or chain of swamps, to which the name
Lorian is given. My reasons for this supposition are given in the next
chapter.
We followed the river very carefully, as, in the event of its taking
a sudden curve, we should have been absolutely lost, and in that case
must inevitably have perished. Indeed, the men were already very
frightened, and grumbled openly. They declared that we had got to the
end of the world, and had much better turn back before worse befell
us. The presence of numbers of rhinoceros had very much frightened
them. We encountered over thirty of them on one march; and quite half
a dozen times had to warily circumnavigate some ungainly member of the
species who was grazing directly in our path. We paid no attention to
this display of insubordination on the part of the men, but pushed on,
every obstacle to our progress only serving to encourage us still more
to persevere in our effort to reach the much-desired goal. The heat on
this open plain was tremendous; it must have been above 120° Fahr. We
were only a matter of about 800 feet above sea-level, and consequently
encountered the full force of the vertical rays of the equatorial sun.
At midday we halted, and, creeping under a bush for shelter, ate our
frugal meal of broiled meat, lying at full length on the ground. During
the meal a whisper of “ungruwe” (pig) from Ramathani brought El Hakim
to his feet. Seizing his rifle, he stepped outside and shot an old
boar, who, with two or three sows, was quietly feeding about fifty
yards away, utterly oblivious of our presence. His flesh was tough and
tasteless, not in the least resembling pork.
Several of the men came to us during the halt, to inquire how much
further we were going, as they thought that we had got into the country
of the “Afreets” (devils), and it would be advisable to go no further.
We assured them that two or three days at most would see us at the
end of our journey. The country looked so desolate and barren that I
do not wonder its appearance worked on the superstitious minds of our
men. We laughed at them, but they were only half reassured. We started
again, and continued to follow the river, which was now not more than
ten yards wide. Large crocodiles swarmed on every mud-bank, some of
them immense brutes, even El Hakim declaring that he had never seen
larger. One ugly reptile which started up and plunged into the water
at our approach, must have been fully twenty feet long or more. El
Hakim appropriately called him “the father of all crocodiles.” This
loathsome reptile, with its blunt and massive snout and immense scaly
body, reminded me of the “Mugger” of the ford, in one of Kipling’s
stories. The largest crocodiles were dark-brown in colour, but there
were multitudes of smaller ones, some bright green and others bright
yellow, two of which I shot during the afternoon. When we camped that
evening we built huge fires between ourselves and the water, in order
to prevent the possibility of any of our party being seized during the
night by the hideous reptiles.
The following day was merely a repetition of the previous one. We
advanced through the same dried-up swamp, with its innumerable pits,
hidden by the same coarse grass and reeds. If anything, the landscape
seemed to have acquired an added tinge of desolation. Rhino were a drug
in the market, owing to the increased supply, but zebra and grantei
stock advanced several points during the day. We followed the river
very closely, not only because it was our only guide, but because the
hippopotamus, which abound in this portion of the Waso Nyiro, had, in
wandering from pool to pool, trodden a rough path on the crest of the
perpendicular bank of the river, which made walking much easier than if
we had forced our way across the plain in endeavouring to cut across
curves in the river-bed, though it necessitated a longer walk. This
path was also a favourite sleeping-place for wandering rhinoceros, and
on several occasions we walked almost on to them, as they were hidden
by the tall grass. A shout generally brought the sleeping brute to his
feet with a snort and a stamp, and he would scurry away over the plain
the picture of indignant reproach.
During the march a slight misunderstanding between El Hakim and myself
came very near to landing us both in an extremely perilous position.
One rhino we came up with did not wake so easily, and as he lay right
across the path, we had to shift him by some means. Standing fifteen
or twenty yards away, we shouted, but he did not move; so El Hakim
stole softly up to within three or four yards of him, and, stooping,
he broke off clods of earth from the edge of the river-bank and threw
them at the sleeping beast, just as a small boy might chivvy a cat
with stones. Even that did not move him, so I stole softly up to El
Hakim with his ·577, which I handed to him. Instead of taking it,
he seized my small-bore rifle, and I, thinking he meant me to try
my luck with his, proceeded to cock it; but while I was doing so El
Hakim let drive at the brute’s head with my rifle. If he had warned
me of his intention, I should have told him that my ·303 shot very
high at short range, but he fired before I could do so, and missed
its brain altogether, only drilling a clean hole through the ear. Up
jumped the rhino and faced us. I waited for El Hakim to fire again,
while he, it afterwards appeared, waited for me to put in a shot with
the heavier weapon. The rhino, meanwhile, made a rush at us, and we
were both prepared to slip over the bank into the river and chance
the crocodiles, when the brute changed its mind, and, swerving aside,
galloped away across the plain. Mutual explanations ensued, and we
proceeded on our momentarily interrupted journey. In cold print it
would seem as if we had both betrayed some indecision, but the reader
must bear in mind the fact that from the time El Hakim fired the shot
from my ·303 to the time the rhino swerved and galloped away, an
observer could not have counted more than four or five seconds.
The river still diminished very much in volume, as a large amount of
water must of necessity be absorbed by the surrounding dry country,
while the loss by evaporation must be enormous. According to our
calculations we should now have been almost in sight of Lorian, having
travelled quite sixty-five miles down the river from our Rendili camp.
On reaching a pool situated in a bend of the river, we came upon a
school of hippopotamus wallowing in the mud at the water’s edge. We
hid ourselves on the bank about ten yards away, and watched them for
some time, as one very rarely has a chance of seeing them, unobserved,
at such close quarters. Presently one of them rose, and, climbing
the bank, walked slowly towards us, grazing as it came. El Hakim sat
down—his favourite position for a shot—and dropped it dead with a
bullet through the neck. At the sound of the report a terrific splash
from the pool announced the alarm of the other members of the school,
and with one accord they dived to the bottom, whence they reappeared at
intervals to breathe, accompanied by much blowing and snorting. With
shouts of joy our men instantly pounced upon the fallen hippopotamus,
its meat being greatly esteemed by them as food. We also were badly
in need of fat, which the dead animal supplied in great abundance. On
cutting it open we found layers of rich yellow fat, a couple of inches
thick, between the skin and the body. Great fires were at once lit,
and for the next hour or two the spot resembled the deck of a whaler
when the blubber is being boiled down. The men got a plentiful supply
of fat for themselves, and, after an hour’s boiling and rendering, we
also obtained two buckets of rich fat congealed to the consistency of
butter, which it resembled in colour.
At this stage the men again wished to turn back, but as we could not
have been very far from Lorian, we thought it would be a pity to give
up the search; so we announced our intention of proceeding, a decision
which they received with every sign of discontent and even terror.
At one o’clock in the afternoon, having disposed of the remains of
the hippo, we once more made our way down-stream. Just before sunset
we sighted the immense sycamore tree which marked the limit of Mr.
Chanler’s journey, and from whence he sighted Lorian. Pushing forward
with renewed vigour, we finally reached it, and looked round with eager
eyes, fully expecting to get a glimpse of our long-sought-for goal.
Not a sign of the swamp could be seen! The river, scarcely half a dozen
yards in width, meandered eastwards, flowing smoothly and sluggishly
between its low banks. On every side stretched the silent plains, in
some places perfectly bare, and in others covered by patches of dried
reeds, while a few solitary thorny acacias stood like ragged sentinels
amid the general desolation.
Lorian had vanished!
[Illustration: 1. Head of old bull buffalo. The horns are very rugged,
one being broken at the tip.
2. Waller’s gazelle.
3. Thompson’s gazelle.
4. Greater Koodoo.
5. Grant’s gazelle shot south of Kenia.
6. Lichtenstein hartebeeste.
7. Grant’s gazelle shot near the Waso Nyiro.]