Back again in the Kikuyu country—Kalyera raid—Effect of a mule on the
native nerve—Does it eat men?—Prepare for a new expedition—Dress my men
in khaki, and march under the Union Jack—A hostile medicine man—Around
Mount Kenia—Native drinks—Treacherous native attack on my camp—Lucky
capture of the hostile chief saves the camp—Pursuit after stolen
cattle—Another attack on my camp—Change of attitude of natives on
account of rain—Peace again—Bury my ivory—The forest slopes of Mount
Kenia—Wagombi’s—A powerful chief—Precautions—Establish myself and erect
a fort
The return journey was accomplished with considerable difficulty. On
arriving at my old camp at Menzini, where the path branched off to the
Kalyera country, an attack was made on the men herding the cattle, with
the result that several were killed and some of the cattle driven off. I
was lying down in my tent when the news was brought to me, so turning
out at once, I gave orders for a mule—which I had bought at Nairobi and
given into the charge of one of my men, with orders to be always ready
to saddle up at a moment’s notice—to be brought, and mounting quickly, I
set off in pursuit of the cattle. The attack had been made while they
were being taken down to drink at the river, and their tracks were
plainly visible, though the cattle were nowhere in sight. Galloping
forward, I caught sight of them just as they were about to enter the
bamboo forest, with about a hundred Kalyera driving them on. As I fired
my revolver, and came galloping towards them on the mule—which was a
kind of animal that they had never seen before—they bolted in a fright.
My men had been following me up in the rear, and we drove the cattle
back to the camp, deeming it unwise to attempt to follow the Kalyera up
through the bamboo forest. After this we reached headquarters at
Karuri’s without further incident.
When Karuri heard that we were coming he sent men out to meet us, and
our return was the signal for great rejoicings. My mule came in for a
special share of attention, and all sorts of funny questions were asked
about it, such as whether it ate people—the general impression being
that it was some sort of a lion—indeed, all the natives came in to see
it, and a report was spread about the country that I went riding about
on a big lion. I had brought Karuri a kettle, and a cup and saucer for
making tea, of which he was very fond, and he was delighted with them,
and, of course, I had also brought presents for the other chiefs.
During the next week or so I spent the time preparing for my trip north.
All the natives were now anxious to go with me, but I decided to pick
only about one hundred of the best men, and as I had by this time about
thirty rifles, I dressed the men to whom they were entrusted in khaki
suits, which I had bought on my last visit to Nairobi, and of which the
wearers were very proud. I had also brought a Union Jack back with me,
which I took at the head of my caravan on all my later expeditions. The
Kikuyu warriors carried their usual weapons, and the trade goods were
divided among one hundred porters, whom I loaded lightly so that we
could move quickly if the occasion required.
The men looked very smart in their new khaki uniforms, and with the
fifty or so Kikuyu warriors, armed with swords, spears, and shields, and
the long line of porters and camp-followers, it was quite an imposing
expedition which set out from Karuri’s village one morning. The
warriors, armed with native weapons, acted as an advance guard, with
myself next, riding the mule; immediately behind were ten soldiers, as
my special bodyguard, and following these were the porters, with more
soldiers distributed among them. A little farther to the rear were the
camp-followers, followed by the cattle, then ten more soldiers, and
behind all, a rearguard of fifty Kikuyu warriors.
With orders to keep close together the safari marched out in single
file, the Union Jack flying at the head, while Karuri, with the rest of
the natives who remained behind, gave us a great send off, though the
old witch doctor shook his head as if he still had misgivings as to the
success of the enterprise.
The first day we camped at my old food station, where we had defeated
the Masai raiders, at the top of the mountain, and resuming the march
the next morning, we went through the Chinga country. The natives kept
out of the way, though we could see groups of them standing on the hills
watching us, and though we shouted to them that we were friends, they
only replied with threats, saying that they did not want the white man
in their country. All the villages were deserted, and we quite failed to
get into touch with the people at all, until we saw some of the old men
sitting on a hill-side, to whom I sent one of my men with a present of
cloth. He went unarmed and waving a bunch of grass as a sign of peace,
and they allowed him to approach them. After he had given each of them a
present of cloth, two of the old men accompanied him back to my camp,
and when the others saw that they were treated as friends they also came
in. I amused them by showing them a looking-glass and several other
things that they had never seen before, and explained to them that my
object in coming into the country was to buy food. I told them that my
idea was to make peace among all the natives, as complaints were coming
in to me every day of raids and murders. It was very difficult to
understand from their stories whether the things complained of had
happened fifty years before or only the previous day, so I advised them
to let all those matters drop and start again with a clean slate from
now, and I told them that I would do my best to settle any differences
that arose in the future. At the same time, I impressed upon them that
they must also help me towards this end, and not go raiding and killing
each other, telling them that it was only savages that settle their
quarrels in that way. To speak of them as not being savages flattered
their vanity, and a remarkable thing I frequently noticed was that as
soon as a native became friends with me, or with my followers, he
immediately called all the rest of the natives savages. It was very
laughable in some instances. I have had one of my own men come to tell
me that some _washenzi_ (savages) wanted to see me, and on going out to
see who they were I would perhaps find that the so-called savages were
the man’s own father and other relatives.
I saw that what I had said about being friendly had impressed them, and
in the meantime my followers had got hold of them and were explaining
what my policy had done in their own country, so that they could see
that I was to be trusted, and consequently made friends with me. After
dusk they went home, and it was evident that they had given a good
report of me, as the next day the two principal chiefs of the district,
Bartier and Henga, came to see me, with about fifty followers. They were
both young men and very intelligent for savages, dressed in skins, but
wearing no special finery. I gave them a red blanket and a fez
each—which was my usual present to chiefs—and they immediately put them
on, wearing the blanket over one shoulder like a cloak, the ends being
tied on the other shoulder, so that only one side of the body was
covered. The effect, however, was rather picturesque, something like the
old Roman toga. They were very pleased with their new garb, but it had
the result of getting them into trouble at times with the other natives,
who looked upon it as a badge of their friendship with the white man.
They stayed in the camp nearly all day, and were very friendly,
explaining the features of the country we were going through, and
warning me against the people of the district of Tato, and their chief
Karkerrie, of whom they gave a very bad account. I asked them if any
white men had been there before, and they said no, though they had heard
of white men going through the country a very long time ago, but not
that part of it.
They brought me some food and told me that they had some ivory, and they
brought me the measurements of several tusks, which they promised to
bring in the next day; but although we waited, expecting the ivory, it
did not come. They were all still very friendly, however, and so I
suggested holding a Pigasangi, but as this was more of a national than a
local affair, they said that it could not be done unless they first
talked it over with their other people, so I told them that we might be
able to arrange for the ceremony on my homeward journey, and also asked
them to have the ivory ready so that I could buy it then.
That day we had a visit from the chief rainmaker of the Kikuyu country,
a tall, fine-looking man, who lived some distance from there, but seemed
to have a roving commission and to be able to travel through any part of
the country without being molested, all the natives being afraid of him,
as they believed that he could bring the rain or stop its coming at
will. I very well remember his stalking in, because he was wearing a red
blanket and fez which I had given him. On this occasion he arrived, like
the villain of the play, just as things were going well, and at one
swoop destroyed all my castles in the air by telling the people that it
would do them no good to make friends with the white man, as it would
stop the rain and bring various other misfortunes upon them. I took no
notice, but the natives evidently took him seriously and I had a lot of
trouble with him later on.
Striking camp early the next morning, we trekked farther north towards
Mount Kenia, where the big chief Wagombi lived. The country continued
practically the same, thickly populated and well cultivated, while here
and there we could see the sheep and cattle grazing quietly and the
people working in their _shambas_ (gardens). It was hard to believe that
I was in the midst of savages, and that any minute they might be up and
cutting one another’s throats and my own too; the scene was so peaceful
that you could have almost imagined yourself amidst the quiet
surroundings of an English landscape.
We had halted to give the men a rest, and I was having some lunch under
the shade of a tree—my practice being to start the day with only a cup
of coffee in the early morning, making my lunch about midday my first
meal—when two or three natives were brought in, who told me that they
had been sent by a big chief, who was also a very powerful witch doctor,
named Muga-wa-diga,[11] who begged me to come and camp in his village.
Of course I was only too glad to meet another friendly chief, and asked
them to take me to his village, where we arrived quite early in the
afternoon.
-----
Footnote 11:
The name Muga-wa-diga means Muga, the son of Diga, the syllable _wa_
being the equivalent of the Russian _vitch_ or the Scandinavian _sen_,
as shown in Peter Petrovitch or Peter Petersen. In the same way, this
syllable is prefixed to the names of tribes, as in Wa-Kikuyu (the sons
of the Kikuyu), Wakamba, though in the latter case it has now become
an integral part of the name.
-----
The chief was an old man, very active for his years, and far more
intelligent than the majority of the natives I had met so far. His
appearance marked him out as a typical witch doctor, and I had never
before seen any chief dressed as he was. His costume was composed
chiefly of the skins of wild cats, and he wore a hat made of the skin of
the colobus monkey; round his ankles were the usual iron rattles, while
two small boys who were with him carried calabashes containing various
medicines. He had evidently started off in something of a hurry to meet
me on the road, and came up to me without any hesitation, shaking hands
in a dignified sort of way, as if the meeting with a white man was an
everyday occurrence. After we had exchanged greetings, he conducted me
to a suitable place to camp near the village, and also introduced me to
his wives and children, which I thought rather extraordinary for a
native meeting a white man for the first time. I could see that he was
very anxious to make friends with me, and he got his people to assist
mine in building the camp, at the same time telling us to be very
careful when leaving the village to collect wood or bring in water, as
some of the natives were not to be trusted, and he felt himself
responsible that no one should get killed while staying at his place.
Of course I was always on my guard, and ordered my men never to go far
from the camp without taking some rifles with them, especially as I
found that my friend the chief rain-maker had been there before me,
spreading rumours of what would happen if they had any dealings with me.
But Muga-wa-diga was evidently not on good terms with the rain-maker,
being jealous of his power, and this accounted for his being so willing
to be friendly towards me.
Finding it a good camp, and being able to obtain plenty of food, I
decided to stay there for some days, and in the meantime to try to
gather more information about the country and people farther on, while
at the same time getting to know more of the people among whom we were
camped.
The chief came to my camp nearly every day, and I got a lot of useful
information from him. One day he brought his medicines with him, and
explained all about them, which gave me a good insight into the art of
working magic. Medicine, as we understand it, is not the kind of
medicine used by the witch doctor of East Africa, who relies more upon
incantations than upon the potency of any drugs to doctor the complaints
of those who seek his aid, the ailments he is expected to cure being
more of a mental than a physical nature, as, when a native complains
that some one has given him poisoned medicine, he really means that some
one has put some spell on him to cause something to happen to him. Such
is the superstitious nature of the savage that, if one has been told
that he is to die at the end of three days, he will actually accept the
statement as literally true, and it would have such an effect upon him
that, unless the witch doctor could convince him that he had made some
medicine powerful enough to counteract the influence of the spell cast
over him, he would certainly die at the time stated.
The witch doctor also professed to be able to say what was going to
happen to any one who sought the information from him, the mode of
procedure in this case being to spread a leopard skin on the ground, and
turn out upon it the contents of a calabash containing a lot of stones,
lion-claws, arrow-heads, &c. These were counted out in sections—somewhat
after the style of the game children play with plum-stones in
England—and from the balance remaining after the full number of even
sections had been completed he read the signs. An arrow-head perhaps
foretold that the inquirer would be killed with an arrow, a lion’s claw
that he would be killed by a lion, and so on. They had also medicines
for the treatment of physical ailments, and antidotes for poisons.
During my visit to Mombasa I had bought a medicine-chest, which I always
carried with me, so I gave the chief a taste of the different tabloids,
&c. I found that he was very fond of pepper and salt, and it was
surprising to see him take a handful of pepper and eat it up without
winking.
The natives were intensely interested in everything I possessed, and
were greatly mystified by the trick of drawing the heat from the sun, by
means of a lens from my field-glasses focused on their hands, and it was
remarkable how some of the warriors would stand the pain without making
a sign, letting the flesh burn without appearing to notice it.
When I approached the chief on the question of a Pigasangi, he promised
to talk the matter over with his people, and suggested that we might
also arrange for the ceremony of blood brotherhood.
Whilst staying here I sent a present to Karkerrie, the chief of Tato,
and also one to Wagombi. We were a good day’s march, in different
directions, from each of these chiefs, and I told my messengers to say
that I was coming into their country on a peaceful mission. Muga-wa-diga
said that he would accompany me to Tato, where, he told me, there was a
lot of ivory; so I decided to go to Tato first, and then go round to
Wagombi’s country.
While at Muga-wa-diga’s I made the acquaintance of a young chief named
Katuni, or the Lion, who was by far the tallest Kikuyu I had ever
seen—being considerably over six feet in height—and got quite friendly
with him, and he brought me, among other things, a lot of honey. All the
Kikuyu keep bees, and you can see the hives hanging on the trees,
sometimes five or six on a tree, all over the country. The hive is made
out of a log of wood, hollowed out and shaped like a barrel, and the
ends are headed up just as a barrel would be. They are about five feet
long by eighteen inches in diameter. The natives ferment the honey to
make a drink tasting very much like sharp cider, which they call njohi,
and on which they manage to get very drunk, as it is highly
intoxicating. It is generally made in very large quantities when the
honey is gathered, and the headman of the village sends out an
invitation to all the old men of the district to come in and have a big
drinking bout, which generally ends in a drunken orgie, when they all
start quarrelling and fighting with each other. The drink is kept in big
calabashes, and the headman first pours out a hornful, which he spills
on the ground, at the same time saying “Ngai,” meaning “To God”- -a
ceremony reminding one of the ancient libations to the gods. This
function over, the headman first drinks himself, to prove to his guests
that there is no poison in the brew, and then the general drinking
starts. A peculiar and somewhat unpleasant habit of theirs is to spit on
their chests after drinking, but the reason for the practice no one
could tell me.
I found a similar kind of drink to njohi among the Abyssinians, who call
it _tej_, and the Kikuyu also have another drink, not quite so
intoxicating as the njohi, and made from sugar-cane instead of honey.
By this time the messengers whom I had sent to Karkerrie with presents
had returned, so we packed up and moved on towards Tato, Katuni deciding
to accompany me, as well as Muga-wa-diga. The country continued thickly
inhabited, and I noticed that the people seemed to own more stock than
elsewhere. They did not take much notice of us, except on one occasion,
when about half a dozen old men, who had been drinking njohi, greeted
us, as we came round the shoulder of a hill, with a shower of arrows.
Arriving at last at Karkerrie’s village, we were met there by the chief
himself and some of the elders of the tribe. The country had changed
somewhat as we neared Tato, being less mountainous, and not so thickly
cultivated, but the people owned enormous herds of cattle, sheep, and
goats. They seemed more like the Masai than the Kikuyu, and undoubtedly
have a good deal of Masai blood in their veins. From the reports I had
heard as to their being such a bad lot, I was quite prepared for them to
try to prevent my entering their country, but, possibly because they had
heard a lot about me, and also on account of my having the medicine man
Muga-wa-diga and the chief Katuni with me, they received me in a
friendly way; so, finding a good place near the chief’s village, I
pitched my camp.
I had brought about fifteen head of cattle with me, and, of course, had
a lot of trade goods, so I opened up negotiations with the chief for
some ivory. The value of cattle varies right through Africa, depending
on the number of sheep in the country. Among the Kikuyu a cow is
reckoned to be worth twenty sheep, whilst among the Caramoja and Sambura
tribes—whom I visited later—it goes up as high as sixty sheep. I
exchanged the cattle at the rate of twenty sheep for each, and when the
natives came in with the ivory, I would give, say, the value of twenty
sheep for a tusk measuring two hands. Ten rings of iron wire, or so many
hands of cloth, equalled a sheep; so that if I bought ivory to the value
of twenty sheep, I would give perhaps five sheep only and the rest in
trade goods.
The iron wire used in these transactions was about the thickness of an
ordinary telegraph wire, while the rings, ten of which were the value of
a sheep, would be about nine inches in diameter, ten of them equivalent
in value to about a shilling of our money. The standard value of a hand
of ivory, in Karkerrie’s country, was thus ten sheep, or a hundred rings
of iron wire, or sixty hands of cloth. In Wagombi’s country the prices
were about half these, so that there a tusk weighing from twenty-five to
thirty pounds could be bought for about a sovereign and, even allowing
for the cost of transport, &c., at an average price of about nine
shillings per pound there was a fairly good profit to be made on the
deal. In the Wanderobo country, where most of the ivory was in the form
of the heavier tusks of the bull elephant—that at Karkerrie’s and
Wagombi’s being mostly from the females—I usually gave a bullock for a
tusk weighing from eighty to ninety pounds.
A few details of the native system of measurement may be of interest.
The hand, which is their standard of lineal measure, varies with the
commodity to which it is applied, but in no case is it the same as our
hand of four inches. In selling ivory the hand is the length of the
forearm from the elbow, with the fist doubled. In measuring ivory a
liberal allowance is made for the hollow portion at the root of the
tusk,[12] and also for the point, neither of which are reckoned in the
length. In buying or selling cloth the hand is practically the same as
our yard, being measured from the centre of the chin to the tip of the
fingers, with the arm stretched out.
-----
Footnote 12:
The elephant tusk is more or less hollow for a third of its length at
the thick end, measured when extracted from the skull.
-----
Things were progressing very favourably, and there was any amount of
ivory to be had, and I was buying it at the rate of two or three tusks a
day, and at eight to ten shillings a pound each tusk would be worth from
£10 to £15. I was at first at a loss to account for so much ivory being
in the country, as the natives there do not hunt the elephant, but I
found that the Wanderobo tribe, who live on the outskirts of the
country, are great hunters; in fact, they live entirely by hunting; and
the elephants wounded by them, and getting away, seek cover in the
forest, where many of them die of their wounds, the wounds being made by
poisoned weapons. The Kikuyu, going into the forest to find wild honey,
find the ivory, and as no trader had been to the country to buy it
before, this accounted for the quantity to be had on my first visit.
These facts may also account for the remarkable stories one comes across
sometimes of “elephant cemeteries.”[13] Certainly, in a long and varied
experience of elephant-hunting in various parts of Africa I have never
come across anything but the slaughter caused by the hand of man which
could account for these so-called cemeteries, nor have any of the
elephant-hunters I have met—and I know all the chief ones—been able to
confirm the “cemetery” yarn.
-----
Footnote 13:
A traveller some years since, having come across large quantities of
elephants’ skulls and bones collected together in one place, started
the theory that elephants came to particular spots to die. The
probability is that such places are scenes of the destruction of a
herd by slaughter. (See P. H. G. Powell-Cotton’s “In Unknown Africa,”
1904.)
-----
One day Karkerrie and his elders came across to see me, being curious to
know all about the white man and his various possessions. Among other
things in my outfit, I had brought with me a musical clock, which,
instead of striking the hour, played a tune, and this I had in my tent.
After I had been talking to the chief for some time, the hour came round
and the clock struck up a lively tune. They could not understand this,
and thought there must be magic about it, so I told them that I could
make it speak whenever I wished, and, unnoticed, moved the lever. When
the hands came round to the hour, I said, “Now I will make it play a
tune.” It so happened that rain had been expected, and as the clock was
playing a few drops came. Looking up into the sky, they saw the rain,
and at once turned to me and asked if the clock could make rain, so I
said, “Certainly, it makes rain all right.” They said that it must be a
great thing if it could make rain, and seeing that these things seemed
to amuse them, I showed them a few sleight-of-hand tricks—never dreaming
that they took what I said seriously.
The next day Karkerrie turned up, and said that rain was absolutely
necessary, and I must make some for them. I said that the best thing
they could do was to bring in plenty of ivory, and go on trading, and
the rain would come of itself, as it was not possible for anybody—white
or black—to make it rain. They kept bothering me every day, however, to
make it rain, and I kept putting them off with the excuse that the rain
was coming all right. But, unfortunately, it did not come, and from
believing that I could make rain they turned to thinking that I was
keeping it away with the clock, and things began to look threatening.
The natives would not bring in any more ivory, and I heard rumours that
the warriors were coming to attack my camp. In the meantime, unknown to
me, there was a plot on foot to murder me, in which, as I found out
afterwards, one of my own men was mixed up. It afterwards appeared that
he was a native of the very district in which we now were, but had been
taken away in some raid to where I had first met with him.
None of the natives came near me, but I knew by the singing, and
shouting, and feasting, that something unusual was in the wind, and took
the precaution of having every man on guard, and slept myself fully
dressed, with my rifle handy, so as to be ready for any emergency. One
pitch-dark night about eight or nine o’clock, a day or two after I had
noticed the change of attitude on the part of the natives, the crisis
came. There had been an ominous stillness around the camp for some time,
when suddenly the air was rent by a wild uproar, and we heard the
war-cry of the tribe spreading from village to village, mingled with the
shrieking of women and children. Over all the din the hideous howl of
the hyenas could be distinguished. These animals seem to realize when
there is a feast of human flesh in store for them, and at the sound of
the native war-cry, which warns them of a fight being at hand, they are
always on the alert. The natives never bury their dead, but leave them
for the hyenas to eat.
All doubts as to the object of this demonstration were removed by the
cries of “Kill the white man!” which could be heard above the other
sounds resounding in the stillness of the night, and it may be imagined
that my feelings were somewhat mixed—planted there out in the wilds as I
was, with a crowd of yelling savages anxious to cut my throat swarming
round my camp. The darkness added a good deal to the natural feeling of
uneasiness, and I certainly did not feel very sanguine as to the outcome
of this hostile demonstration; but all that I could do was to see that a
strict watch was being kept, and make the best preparations I could to
keep the enemy out if they should attack the camp. It was quite useless
to think of packing up and clearing out, as we should have been pretty
certain to have lost our way in the darkness, and have run a greater
risk of being killed in the morning. Further, to have shown the white
feather in this way now would have meant abandoning my project of going
up into the country, and I was by no means disposed to give up my
project. So I set to work as well as I could to build a kind of fort,
using the boxes of trade goods, and anything else I could get, to make
barricades. Having got all my people inside the enclosure, I warned them
not to move out of it on any consideration, telling them not to be
afraid, as we should come out of it all right. All the spare ammunition
was placed ready to hand, and we were prepared for the attack when it
should come.
In the meantime, the uproar among the natives had died down and given
place to an almost oppressive stillness, only broken now and then by a
faint rustling, which told us that the savages were moving about just
outside the fort, and, although we could not see them, we instinctively
felt that we were being surrounded. The sensation of knowing that the
enemy were creeping up all round us was a good deal more trying to the
nerves than all the previous noise and shouting had been, and it was
difficult to remain inactive as the time dragged on and no move was made
against us. I kept the men at work, strengthening the fort, and while
they were thus engaged word was brought to me that the chief, Karkerrie,
had been seen, fully armed, going to join a body of the natives who were
collected some distance away. Acting on the spur of the moment, I called
a couple of men, and made my way quietly out of the fort, with the
object of intercepting him, if possible. I was just in time to waylay
him before he moved off, and jumping on him before he was aware of my
presence, I made him a prisoner, and carried him back to the fort. This
was a piece of rare good-fortune, and my spirits rose in consequence.
Waiting for the attack, however, was weary, monotonous work, so I went
round to each man separately, to give him a word of encouragement, and
especially to pass away the time. It was then that I found that one of
my men was missing from his post, and it was soon evident that he had
deserted. In the morning this man had been on guard over my tent, and I
had then noticed that his bearing was careless, and had taken him to
task for his lax appearance. I had trained all my men to do things in a
soldierly manner, and the leisurely way in which he was moving about had
attracted my attention. On my speaking to him, and telling him to walk
about properly, and not to go slouching along as he was then doing, he
smiled in a way that annoyed me, so I took his rifle away from him,
telling him that he would have to carry a load, as he was not fit for a
soldier. It was the memory of this incident that made me think of the
fellow, and miss him when I was going the round of the sentries, and
though I made inquiries, no one seemed to know where he was. I thought,
at the moment, that he had deserted on account of my taking his rifle
from him, and gave no more thought to the matter.
The night dragged on, without any attack being made, and about four or
five o’clock in the morning we could tell, by the different noises
heard, and the sound of whispering that frequently reached us, that we
were surrounded by Karkerrie’s people, who were only waiting for the
first peep of dawn to blot us all out. It was evident that the critical
moment was at hand, and that it was time for me to act in some way; so I
spoke to Karkerrie, telling him that we were surrounded by his people,
and that immediately they attacked us, or even fired into the camp, he
would be the first man to die. To further convince him that I was
thoroughly in earnest, I placed my revolver to his head, and told him
that at the first sign of an attack I should fire. The chief had a
pretty good regard for his own skin, and, being quite satisfied that I
should carry out my threat, he at once shouted to his followers, and
told them of the position he was in. Fortunately, his words, to all
appearance, had the desired effect, though the Kikuyu were at first
considerably surprised to find that their chief was inside the fort, and
were, no doubt, badly at a loss to account for his presence there. He
had, however, evidently sufficient power over them for his orders to be
respected, and they gradually drew off, and things quieted down once
again. When daylight came, we could tell by the spoor on the ground, and
the way everything had been trodden down, that the fort must have been
surrounded by thousands of natives during the night.
Karkerrie having assured me that no further attack should be made, and
repeated his professions of friendship, I set him at liberty, and things
resumed their normal aspect. To see the natives going about as usual
made it difficult to realize that I and my people had been so nearly
wiped out. Nevertheless, I did not trust the chief, and had spies
secretly watching his movements, and ready to warn me of the slightest
sign of treachery. This same Karkerrie, soon after the country was taken
over by the Government, finding that the new Administration were
apparently unable to cope with the raiding of Wagombi and some of the
other chiefs, took advantage of the apparent slackness of the
Administration to attack a safari belonging to some Indian traders, and
looted their goods. But in this instance he had gone a little too far,
and an expedition was sent up to capture him, and he was deported to
Kismayu, a hot, unhealthy spot on the coast. He did not long survive the
effects of the climate, and the change in position in life from a
powerful autocratic chief to a closely guarded prisoner. There is now a
fort and Government station at his old place at Nyeri, where I had first
come across him.
Although the clock had undoubtedly played a great part in provoking the
natives to attack me, yet it must be remembered, in the first place,
that they were very much averse to any white man coming into their
country; and, further, being boundary natives—that is, natives living on
the boundary of the country—they were naturally much more warlike than
the tribes farther in the interior. They were used to fighting
practically every day of their lives, and accustomed to resent the
coming of any strangers into their country. The manner of my coming
among them, so quietly, with the chief Katuni, and Muga-wa-diga, the
witch doctor, had made them, for the moment, overlook their natural
antipathy to a stranger, and they hardly knew how to attack me. They
probably regretted having allowed me to come into the country so
quietly, and the incident of the clock gave them the excuse for which
they were looking to vent their natural enmity towards the stranger on
me. This uprising had also happened before I had been able to get
thoroughly acquainted with them, and consequently I had acquired no
influence over them. I found that they had actually arranged a plot to
kill me, which was to have been started by the man who had deserted from
my camp. How it was to have been carried out I never learned, but it is
most probable that he was to shoot me, and the fact of my having taken
his rifle away upset all their plans. Certainly they had sufficient
inducement to wish to get me out of the way, as many of them, no doubt,
had cast covetous eyes on the quantity of trade goods and cattle I had
with me. They would not have hesitated to kill me for such a store of
loot, as they were accustomed to kill Arab traders passing through the
country. I had not omitted to show them everything I had for trade, as
an inducement to them to bring in the ivory. They naturally all took a
great fancy to my possessions, but they had not all got ivory to trade
for them, and an attack would have given a splendid excuse to loot the
whole outfit.
I pitched my camp again as usual, and went about as if nothing had
happened, and the natives came to trade, and mixed with my people as
before; but I was never off my guard, and always carried my revolver
with me wherever I went.
Going on with my trading, I sent two or three cows out in different
directions to be exchanged for sheep. It may have been a foolish thing
to do, but I let the cows go out of my camp without sending any of my
own men with them. I had done the same thing before, and the sheep had
always been brought in, and it never occurred to me that it might not be
so again; but on this occasion it happened otherwise: the sheep did not
come in, and the natives refused to return the cattle. I was rather at a
loss how to act, I had such a lot of ivory in the camp. I did not know
whether it would be best to leave the camp and go after the cattle, or
what to do. Whatever I did, however, must be done quickly, so I decided
to leave a few men in camp—about ten askari and fifty Kikuyu—and go
after the cattle. The most remarkable thing about the affair was that
the cattle had been taken to exchange for sheep in charge of Karkerrie’s
own men, and his son, and some of the men who went with him, had come
back wounded, saying that they had lost the cattle. It was therefore now
for me to find out what had really happened, and to recover the cattle.
The wounded men were not fit to go out to show me the place where the
fight had taken place, but another of Karkerrie’s men offered to come
with me and do so, so I saddled up my mule, and started off ahead of the
main body of my men to the scene of the fight. On arriving there I found
the place absolutely deserted, but, standing on a hill some little
distance away, shouting and defying me, was a crowd of natives, who,
however, did not attempt to come any nearer. As my own temper by this
time was pretty well worked up, I pushed on till I got pretty close to
them. They did not shift, so I slackened my pace to allow my own men to
come up, and then advanced together to within about one hundred paces of
them. Seeing, from their attitude and gestures, that they were preparing
for a rush down on us, we fired a volley into them; several were killed,
and a good many others must have been wounded. This apparently satisfied
them, and they did not attempt to put up a fight, but ran away, shouting
for their friends to help them to kill us. Realizing that it was useless
to try to get the cows back from these people, and feeling rather uneasy
about my own camp, I thought it advisable to return and see what was
going on there; so I hurried back, and on nearing the camp I heard a lot
of shouting and row going on. Being on my mule, I was able to push on
quicker, and got ahead of the rest to see what was the matter, my men
following as fast as they could. At the same time, I kept a sharp look
out as I went on either side, in case there might be an ambush, and at
intervals I fired my revolver into the bushes. On getting in sight of
the camp, I found it was besieged by a crowd of howling savages, who, I
soon discovered, were not Karkerrie’s men, but some natives from another
tribe. Seeing me approach, and hearing my shout to encourage my men,
they ceased the attack, and cleared off promptly into the bush. I found
that two or three of my men had been slightly wounded by arrows, but
none had been killed; while the other side had suffered pretty severely,
quite a number of them having been killed. It appeared that these
natives had heard of my absence, and thought it would be a good
opportunity to attack the camp and get some loot. They had come upon it
in a solid mass, and my men had only just managed to keep them at bay
till we came up; in fact, the camp was practically surrounded when I got
there, and it was impossible for the defenders to have held out much
longer. Fortunately, I returned in time to prevent the enemy entering
the camp, or all would have been lost.
The unfriendly natives having made themselves scarce, we settled down
into camp again, and once more things began to go along in the old
routine, as if we had had no unusual happenings.
That day the long-expected rain came, and with it a remarkable change in
the manner of the people towards me. The day after they came in with
lots of ivory and brought me presents of sheep and goats, telling me
that I was a very great man, as I could fight and also make rain. They
firmly believed that I was responsible for the coming of the rain, and
asked me to live there altogether, offering to build a house for me and
do anything I wished if I would only stay among them. Of course, I told
them that I could not stay with them, and soon after brought my visit to
Karkerrie to a close.
Having a lot of ivory, which I did not want to carry about the country
with me, I secretly buried it at the edge of the forest, my intention
being to go on to Wagombi, the big chief living at the foot of Mount
Kenia. Before I left all the natives were on the best of terms with me,
and said that they were willing to Pigasangi, while the chief Karkerrie
expressed his willingness to make blood brotherhood with me. Katuni and
Muga-wa-diga had returned to their villages some time previous to my
departure from Karkerrie’s, and I learned afterwards that news of the
happenings at Tato had reached my headquarters and that we had all been
reported as killed.
I had heard a lot of talk about Wagombi, and was very anxious to visit
him and, if possible, make friends with him, as my aim was to get all
that country under control and put a stop to the fighting and bloodshed,
so that it would be safe for caravans to pass through it and trade. The
natives were beginning to see that I had their interests at heart and
were beginning to like me. All the way along I had made friends, and I
had hopes that, by means of the Pigasangi and blood brotherhood, I might
get all the chiefs friendly and at peace with one another. The three
ruling chiefs at that time were Karuri, Karkerrie, and Wagombi, and I
felt that if I could once get these three to make friends I should soon
be able to make the petty chiefs stop their squabbling. I had already
got a friendly understanding with the two first-named chiefs, but
Wagombi was by far the biggest and most influential of the three, and if
I could get him to come in the matter was settled and the country too.
My success, so far, was undoubtedly due to my having Kikuyu natives with
me as my followers. Without them I should probably never have achieved
anything at all, but the fact of my having what were practically their
own people with me gave the chiefs I met confidence in me.
I parted on the best of terms with Karkerrie, and set out for Wagombi’s
country. The country we were now passing through was much more sparsely
inhabited, and we camped the first night at the headwaters of the Tana
River, where, although no natives came to see me, I took the usual
precautions for guarding the camp. Very shortly afterwards these
precautions were amply justified, and I was made to realize that I was
by no means in an entirely friendly country yet. Some of my men, going
down without a guard to fetch water, were attacked by natives, and three
of them speared to death. They had evidently been ambushed while going
through a shamba by some natives who had immediately cleared off, and,
though I made inquiries and found traces of a good many feet in the
shamba, the murderers themselves were nowhere visible. We buried the
three bodies that afternoon, and had no more disturbance during the
night. The next morning we had struck camp for the final stage of the
march to Wagombi’s when we saw a lot of natives doing a war-dance and
shouting. Going to inquire what it was all about, I found that they had
dug up the bodies of the three men we had buried the previous day, and
were having a war-dance over them; so, turning away from such a gruesome
spectacle, we resumed our march.
I had, of course, already sent messages on to Wagombi, to let him know
that I was coming, and the news had spread among his own people that I
was on the way to pay him a visit. Wagombi himself had come out a
considerable distance to meet me, about ten miles from his own village.
I found him a fine, tall fellow, in his bearing and appearance every
inch a chief, and in his speech a good deal more brisk than any other
Kikuyu I had met. He greeted me very heartily, shaking hands in the
usual Kikuyu fashion—first spitting in the palm—and had quite a lot to
say about himself and the country. He had with him quite a young lad,
about ten years old, whom he introduced as his son and successor, and
who seemed a very bright little fellow, of whom the chief appeared to be
very proud. This lad is at the present time the chief of that district.
Wagombi brought no other followers with him but two or three old men. He
himself wore a robe of monkey-skins, and was without any head-dress,
while he carried a huge spear. As we proceeded towards the village he
told me that he had heard a lot about me, and was very pleased to meet
me. He said that he knew he had a very bad reputation for his treatment
of people passing through his country, but that he was anxious to make
friends with me, and was pleased that I had not brought any Arabs or
Swahili with me, as he did not want any people of that sort in his
country, and would kill the lot of them. Being some distance ahead of my
party, and noticing that we were meeting large numbers of warriors as we
went along the road, I sent word back to my people to keep a sharp look
out, and told the chief about my men having been murdered at the last
camp. He said that it had been done by his people all right, but that
they had been acting absolutely on their own; in fact, he had sent
messengers along our road to tell them not to interfere with us in any
way, so that what had happened had been entirely against his wishes, and
he meant to find out who had done it and punish them.
By the time we had got to his place we had quite a big following, and
one old man who joined us by the way must have been the chief’s medicine
man, as when he first met us he killed a sheep on the road, and at every
stream we crossed he sprinkled a little of the dung taken from the
sheep’s intestines on the river bank and in the stream. (This practice
figures largely in the superstitious rites of the Kikuyu.) He also
sprinkled some on the road as we went along, at the same time shouting a
lot of gibberish. He had previously cut two rings out of the skin of a
sheep, and given them to the chief and myself to wear on our right arms,
a custom which, it seemed, was a sign of friendship.
Wagombi’s kraal was right at the top of a smaller mountain which rises
at the foot of Mount Kenia, and from this vantage-ground a splendid view
could be obtained of the country for many miles around. The morning
after our arrival I had an opportunity of taking in the full beauty of
the scene from our lofty situation. Spread out as far as the eye could
reach was a panoramic view of the Kikuyu country through which I had
travelled, showing the glittering streams threading their way through
deep valleys, the hills on either side being clothed with trees, and
dotted here and there with villages; while, where the country was more
open, cattle and sheep could be seen quietly grazing, and the cultivated
clearings could be seen at intervals. Viewed as a whole, the landscape
presented a rugged appearance, with deep clefts between the mountains,
innumerable streams, and thick forest land; while between the mountains
on the right could be dimly made out the edge of the Laikipia Plain. We
were on the lower slopes of Kenia, and for a considerable distance up
the mountain is clothed with a thick forest, so dense that, except in a
few places, it is quite impenetrable.
The most careless mind must be awed by the majesty of Mount Kenia, as
the eye ranges over its huge bulk, from the wooded slopes near the foot
to its summit, rising many thousands of feet in the air, crowned with a
circle of perpetual snow, glistening in the rays of the sun. Surrounded
by Nature in her grandest form, Wagombi might be pardoned for a
conscious pride in his magnificent heritage, which, owing nothing to the
art of the landscape gardener, yet far surpassed the beauties of any
estate to be found in the civilized countries of the world.
I found that Wagombi had a number of rifles, and ammunition for them as
well, and all the rifles were in good order. He told me he had got them
from the Wakamba, Arabs, Swahili, and that class of people. Describing
the Swahili as a foolish lot of people, who attempted to come through
his country without taking any precautions, he made no scruple of
killing them, and of taking anything they had. One thing I liked about
the chief was his absolute straightforwardness about everything. He made
no attempt to hide anything, but would tell you quite frankly about all
his affairs, contrary to the usual practice of the nigger.
While we were camped there thousands of warriors came to see us, and
they came stalking into the camp in such numbers that it was absolutely
impossible to try to keep them out, as it could not have been done
without using force, and that would have upset everything. Previously in
travelling through the country I had always kept men on guard to prevent
any one coming into the camp unless first disarmed, but here they came
in by hundreds, and I could not keep them out. Knowing Wagombi’s
reputation, I thought he might be trying the confidence trick on me by
appearing so friendly, and took steps accordingly.
I told Wagombi that I should like to build a camp, as it was rather
cold, and asked him to get some of his people to help me. He said he
would be only too pleased, and the next day his men started bringing in
wood and grass; and I then got a lot of them started building a house,
and told the chief that it was the white man’s custom to put a fence
round. As he made no objection, I marked off a big open space round the
house, my real intention being to build a kind of small fort; but it was
more politic to say that I wanted to build a house, as it roused no
suspicion as to my real intention. I had it all planned out in my head,
and first of all had a big circular fence built, just high enough to
stand and shoot over. I then told the chief that I had not built this
fence high enough, and should have to build another inside it, and as he
raised no objection again, I built another, seven or eight feet high
inside the first, so that I now had a double fence all round, the
entrance to the first being at quite a different point to that of the
second. This form of structure would be a great advantage in case of
attack, as it would be necessary, after entering the first fence, to
walk some distance round before coming to the entrance to the second,
and it would give us a chance, in case of a rush, of shooting the
intruders before they had a chance of getting into the inner circle of
the fort. I also built a tower about thirty feet high, which made an
excellent look-out, and had the advantage of enabling the defenders to
cover any portion of the fort with their rifles. The plan aroused no
suspicion, and they probably thought that it was the way white men’s
houses were usually built.
I was rather proud of my tower, and a brief description of it may
interest the reader, so I will give it. It was, of course, constructed
of wood. Taking four strong poles for the corner-posts, I lashed
cross-pieces between them, diagonally, on each side with bark or
fibre-rope, which is very strong and lasts for years, and on the top of
this framework I built a platform, and above the platform I repeated the
process, so that the tower was really a double-storied building, with an
arrangement of ladders to reach the upper portion. Wagombi thought that
the way I had built the house was quite a good idea, and remarked in a
quiet way, “What a good thing it would be to keep a rush of the savages
out!” Curiously enough, by “savages” he meant his own people. I expect
he tumbled to my object, as he was a fellow who had all his wits about
him, but he made no further comment. My rule had always been never to
neglect any precautions, whether the natives were friendly or otherwise;
and so far I had pulled through all right. Experience had taught me that
to do things in a dilatory or careless fashion was to put temptation in
their way, so I never took the risk.
I camped at Wagombi’s for a considerable time, and he told me that they
had some ivory, and on my expressing a wish to trade the ivory came in
plentifully, while the price was quite different to what I had paid at
Tato, being very much cheaper—almost given away, in fact, in comparison.
In the meanwhile I frequently invited Wagombi to my place, and taught
him to drink tea. His headman also came to see me, and we got to be on
very friendly terms. After a time the chief mentioned blood brotherhood,
and asked me if I was agreeable to join him in the ceremony. I said I
thought it would be a very good thing, and then told him about
Muga-wa-diga and Karkerrie, and suggested that it would be a grand thing
if we could all make blood brotherhood together. I particularly wanted
to pull this off, as it would make all the chiefs friendly with one
another, and I should then have them under my control.
Later on I managed to arrange the ceremony of Pigasangi, which, as I
have explained, is much more of a national affair. Of course, I first
suggested this to Wagombi, but did not manage to get his consent without
a lot of trouble, and after going very fully into an explanation as to
why I was so anxious to bring it about. He had a very strong objection
to blood brotherhood with Karkerrie and Muga-wa-diga, and took a lot of
talking round; in fact, I only managed the matter eventually by the aid
of presents.