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.
-----
Footnote 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.
[Illustration: 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.
-----
Footnote 2:
Fort Smith was situated close to where the present town of Nairobi now
stands.
Footnote 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.
-----
Footnote 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.
[Illustration: 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.