FOOTNOTES:
[15] It is the custom of the natives to kill and eat meat before setting out on a warlike expedition.
CHAPTER XVI.
RETURN TO M’THARA.
Departure from the Rendili settlement—Ismail’s porters desert—The affray between Barri and the Somalis—Ismail wounded—A giraffe hunt—Ismail’s vacillation—Another giraffe hunt—Journey up the Waso Nyiro—Hippopotamus-shooting.
We marched steadily for nearly three hours, and then, selecting a suitable spot, camped on the river-bank. En route we noticed several stone cairns, which on inquiry I learnt were the burial-places of the Rendili. Unlike the Wakamba, A’kikuyu, and Masai, they do not leave their dead or dying relatives outside their villages, to the tender mercies of the hyænas. They, on the contrary, dig a hole in the ground, in which the corpse is placed in a sitting position. Stones are then piled over the body till a cairn is formed, and finally a spear is placed upright on the summit. In view of the utter dissimilarity between the Rendili and the ordinary negro, and the lack of definite information concerning their origin, it is to my mind a curious coincidence at least that they should bury their dead in almost precisely the same manner as the people who at one time inhabited the banks of the Nile in Upper Egypt.[16]
I remember hearing in Cairo, in the early part of 1899, that Professor Flinders Petrie had unearthed some graves which were supposed to be those of a people so ancient as to be unacquainted with the use of metals, and who buried their dead in a sitting position, afterwards covering them by inverting a large earthen jar over the body and then filling up the grave. These facts, taken in conjunction with Mr. Seton Karr’s discovery of flint implements in Somaliland resembling, I believe, those discovered by Professor Petrie in Egypt may, in the hands of an antiquarian, throw an interesting light on the antecedents of this remarkable people. It would be interesting indeed could it be shown that the Rendili are the modern representatives of the primitive race who manufactured clay pottery and worked in flint on the banks of the Nile before the pyramids were built.
When we had constructed a boma for the sheep, George and I went down to bathe in the Waso Nyiro, a feat we successfully accomplished to the accompaniment of the usual eccentric dance on account of the leeches.
In the evening a young Somali, named Barri, came into camp. He wished to return to Nairobi with us, and as he was not bound to Ismail in any way, not receiving any pay, we consented to his doing so. He was, indeed, a small trader on his own account, and with a couple of cattle had accompanied Ismail in order to try to exchange them for two tusks. This purpose he had not been able to carry out. He therefore sold them to some of the other Somalis who accompanied Ismail’s caravan on the same conditions as himself, and, unknown to Ismail, proposed to return to Nairobi with us. We did not know at the time that Ismail was unaware of the proposed change, and as Barri had formerly been a personal servant of El Hakim’s, and a very good man, we gave him permission to accompany us on condition that he made himself useful.
Before sunrise on the following morning, Barri went away from camp to try to procure some fresh milk for us at an isolated Burkeneji village some little distance away. He borrowed my Martini and half a dozen cartridges, as he had no more ammunition for his own weapon, a carbine of Italian manufacture, and set out. An hour later, as we were preparing to start on our march, Ismail Robli, who had travelled all night, accompanied by a strong party of Somalis, all fully armed, strode into our camp. He stated, none too politely, that most of his remaining porters had deserted, and he had reason to believe that they were accompanying our safari. Ignoring his discourtesy, we politely informed him that such was not the case, nor had we seen his men; but if it would in any way ease his mind he had our permission to look through the camp. He proceeded to do so, and of course found no traces of his missing porters.
In the meanwhile Barri was returning with the milk he had purchased, and was approaching the camp, all unconscious of this new aspect of affairs. He was sighted by two of Ismail’s armed guards, who, slipping cartridges into their Sniders, rushed towards him, demanding his instant surrender on pain of death. Barri’s reply, more forcible than polite, was a shot from the Martini, which sent them helter-skelter to the cover of the nearest bush. From that comparatively safe position they held a parley with him, under cover of which they sought an opportunity of shooting at him. He, however, was aware of their amiable intentions, and, standing with his rifle at the ready, threatened to shoot the first man who raised his weapon. One of them tried it, but Barri instantly fired, which, though he missed his man, effectually stopped any further attempt at such treachery.
Ismail, busily searching for his absent porters, heard the shots, and, momentarily desisting from his search, rushed out of camp to see what was the matter. Fifty yards away he saw Barri with uplifted rifle covering the two Somalis, who were cowering behind the bush. If ever I saw murder written on a man’s face, I saw it then on Ismail’s, and remembering what he was capable of, I went after him, followed by El Hakim and George. Ismail was carrying a 12-bore shot-gun loaded with ball cartridges, and as he ran at Barri he unslung the weapon from his shoulder. Barri turned in the nick of time, and without a second’s hesitation fired point-blank at him. Ismail collapsed into a writhing heap on the ground, while Barri turned and fled with the speed of a deer into the surrounding bush.
These events happened in such rapid succession that we had no time to interfere and prevent the catastrophe, as we were only just outside the camp when Ismail fell. Of the two Somalis who had brought Barri to bay, one followed him, but, apparently very half-heartedly, he soon returned, and the other ran to assist Ismail. That swashbuckler and would-be assassin had struggled into a sitting position, and was groaning with great vigour, punctuating his howls at intervals with supplications to Allah, mingled with bitter curses on the head of his assailant. We immediately examined him to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He had sustained a nasty flesh-wound on the inside of his right leg a few inches above the ankle. The bullet had cut away the flesh and laid bare the bone, but fortunately had not fractured it. El Hakim dressed and bound the wound, while I superintended the construction of a litter in which Ismail could be conveyed to his own camp.
His removal took place soon after midday. El Hakim accompanied him to his camp, and, on arriving there, again dressed the wound, returning to our own camp late in the evening. Ismail’s wound was by no means serious, and would be quite well in a week or so, and as many of his porters had deserted, he seemed inclined to accompany us back to Kenia, and we decided, therefore, to make very short marches for the next few days, primarily in order that Ismail could communicate with us if necessary, and secondly, to gradually accustom the sheep to marching in preparation for their long tramp to Nairobi.
We did not pity Ismail in the least, as neither he nor any of his men had a right to threaten Barri or in any way to control his movements, and, in addition, I had ocular evidence that Barri had acted purely in self-defence. Nevertheless, knowing that Ismail’s safari was now numerically very weak, and the Wa’Embe, as already stated, were in communication with the Burkeneji, we were strongly disinclined to abandon his safari to perhaps further misfortune. This feeling, I must admit, did not extend to Ismail personally, as he had shown himself to be a vacillating bully, and a man of evil passions, which at times entirely mastered him. But he had still some forty or fifty porters who deserved a better fate, and in addition, a mishap to one safari naturally mischievously affected any other which happened to be in the district at or near the same time.
During the night we were much troubled by lions round the camp. They were not roaring, or we should have had no apprehensions, as Leo does not roar till he has killed. It was the peculiar low whining grunt, which is so modulated that it is extremely difficult to estimate the brute’s distance, or even locate his direction. The sheep were very uneasy, and it required the utmost exertions of our men to prevent them from stampeding. The fires were stirred up and fresh wood piled upon them, but all night we were kept constantly on the alert, though fortunately nothing untoward happened. Next morning we struck camp, and wandered up the river, camping again before the sun was well above the horizon. This programme was repeated for the following six days.
During this time we received almost daily reports from Ismail by the hands of special messengers. These reports were couched in his usual vacillating terms. One day he would send word that he was coming on the following day with his safari for the purpose of accompanying us back to Kenia, while the next message would state that he had determined to buy more camels and go north to Marsabit. We did not alter our six-day programme, but marched slowly on.
For one thing, we had great difficulty in feeding the men, game being scarce. We were naturally unwilling to kill sheep for food except as a last resource, but turned our attention instead to shooting.
On the afternoon of the third day I was lucky enough to hear from a party of Burkeneji that a few giraffe were in the neighbourhood. I saddled up the big mule, and, taking the Martini, sallied forth, accompanied by a couple of men.
After a ten-mile tramp in a direction almost at right angles to the river, I discovered a herd of seven or eight giraffe quietly feeding at the base of a hill half a mile distant. I dismounted and examined them through the binoculars. They had not observed me, but there was no possible chance of my reaching them from where I was, as the plain was quite open between us, and, in addition, I was dead up-wind. Leaving the mule in charge of the two men, I made a long détour on foot, which occupied me nearly an hour. Finally, by careful stalking, taking advantage of every scrap of cover afforded by dongas and thorn-bush, I got to leeward of them and about 250 yards distant. There was a gentle dip in the ground between myself and my proposed quarry; I had reached a point on the summit of the rise, while they were halfway up the slope on the opposite bank. In spite of all my care, they were evidently aware of the presence of danger, though they had not as yet located it. As they showed an inclination to stampede, I determined, unsportsmanlike as it was, to risk a long shot. I picked out the largest bull I could see and banged off at him. They immediately made off, and though I had distinctly heard the thud of my bullet, I saw no sign of weakness on the part of the beast I had hit. They galloped away to the top of the opposite rise, and from there sighted the two men with the mule. They doubled sharply back, and bore down straight for the spot where I was glued to the earth behind a small tuft of grass. When they had approached to within thirty yards, they became aware of my presence and turned off to my left. As they did so, the old bull gave me a capital shoulder shot, of which I was not slow to take advantage. He seemed to take no notice whatever of it, but, to my great disappointment, disappeared with the others among the trees which covered the lower slopes of a small hill on my left. I set off in chase, but before I had gone many yards I heard the crash of a heavy body, breaking trees and branches in its fall. Hurrying to the spot, I found my giraffe, dead. There were two wounds in its body, one in the stomach, evidently my first shot, and the other fairly through the shoulder. I found, on cutting the beast up, that my second bullet had smashed through the shoulder-blade and ribs, and then, having been slightly flattened, had passed clean through the heart, tearing a great hole in that organ, and then passing through the ribs and shoulder-blade on the opposite side, it lodged under the skin, where it formed a small lump, which was distinctly visible from the outside.
In spite of the extensive nature of its injuries, the stricken giraffe had galloped over a hundred yards without giving any sign that it was hurt. With regard to the injuries themselves, I do not think the most expensive express rifle made would have done better. Certainly the Martini is a wonderfully useful all-round weapon.
As my two men with the mule had not turned up by the time I had concluded my examination of the giraffe, I went to look for them. They were not on the spot where I left them, neither could I get any answer from them, though I shouted myself hoarse. I therefore made my way back to the small hill I have mentioned and climbed to the summit. From there I got an extended view of the country, but nevertheless I could not see a sign of the men. I shouted, but my voice was lost in space. I had a syren whistle with which I was in the habit of summoning the men; but though I hooted and screamed through it like the cry of a lost tug-boat, nothing resulted.
I gazed round the empty landscape with a feeling akin to desperation. The sun was sinking fast, and I stood a very good chance of passing the night ten miles from camp and supper, alone on the hillside with the body of the giraffe. Once more I wailed on the syren whistle, but there was no answer beyond the chirrup of a frightened bird.
At length I saw them loafing around about 800 yards away. I redoubled my shouting and whistling, but they did not seem to hear me. As a last resource, I laid down, and, taking aim with the Martini, planked a bullet in the sand within fifty yards of them. Their attention was immediately aroused, and they gazed about trying to locate my direction. Another shot gave them the information they required, and they immediately started to rejoin me. Leaving one man safely ensconced in the branches of a tree as a guard over the giraffe, I returned with the other to camp, which I did not reach till long after night had fallen.
On arrival, I despatched half a dozen men, with water and the means of lighting a fire, to guard the dead giraffe from the hyænas, and possibly lions. Barri, I found, had returned to our camp and thrown himself on our mercy. He was informed that he might be perfectly easy in his mind, as we should not give him up to Ismail on any account, for which consideration he was extremely grateful. During the night we were troubled again by lions, who prowled round the camp, doubtless attracted by the sheep.
We moved up the river a little further on the following morning, and, camping early, sent the majority of the men to cut up the giraffe. We found the meat horribly tough and tasteless, but we struggled with it somehow. Even the men did not take kindly to it. The marrow bones, which were very large, we first roasted over a fire, and then, breaking them with an iron bar, ate their rich marrows with a teaspoon. It was very well flavoured, and much appreciated.
On the opposite bank of the Waso Nyiro was a small village of mixed Rendili and Burkeneji, the elders of which paid us a visit during the course of the day. They brought us four sheep as a present, and in return we gave them the remainder of our stock of beads and some cloths, with which they were delighted. They left us in the evening, and as a special honour, and to secure them from the attacks of crocodiles while crossing the river, El Hakim lit a blue flare, and giving it to the awestruck chief, he and his followers departed. It was very amusing to see the way the chief held it. He was half afraid of it, but did not care to show as much before his followers, so he held it at arm’s length, shuddering with apprehension every time it dropped a few sparks.
On the morning of September 29th, it being the sixth day subsequent to Ismail’s accident, we considered our obligation to linger in the district at an end. Scarcely had we come to that decision when a messenger from Ismail brought word that the Somalis had finally decided to go north to Marsabit. On hearing this message, we sent our blessing to Ismail, which, I expect, got the messenger into trouble—that is, if he ventured to deliver it, which I doubt—and we started for M’thara in earnest. We passed the hill which had occasioned George and myself so much trouble on our journey down the river, passing between it and the river by a narrow path which wound round its southern scarp. We halted at a boma that we found near the river, which had been built by Ismail on his journey to the Rendili.
The men reported a hippo in a pool some way up the river, and we accordingly went forth to slay it. We found the pool at the lower end of the rapids, which extend from the foot of the Chanler Falls for nearly a mile below. We found the hippo there, and George banged at it with the 8-bore. It was the first time this weapon had been used during the trip, and George, being unfamiliar with the sighting, missed the brute’s brain, merely drilling a hole in its skull and stunning it. It never gave us another chance, so we had to leave the pool without our hippo.
On the way back to camp we sighted two giraffe on the other side of the river, which were coming down to the water’s edge to drink. I took a shot at 200 yards with the ·303 and wounded the foremost, which immediately dashed away, followed by its companion. Being unwilling to let it go, I jumped into the river, which, though the current was very swift, was at that point not more than four feet in depth. Followed by two or three of the men, I waded across and resumed the chase of the wounded giraffe. I found it a few hundred yards further on, and planked another solid bullet into it, which had the effect of once more starting it off at a gallop.
This went on for a mile or two, the giraffe stopping every now and then for a rest, and on receiving another shot, making off again. Finally it forced its way into a patch of thick bush interlaced with a large number of prize specimens of the terrible wait-a-bit thorn. I did not attempt to penetrate this bush in like manner, but went round it instead, seeking for a more favourable entrance. While doing so, I heard the familiar crash of a falling body, and being then satisfied that my quarry had at last succumbed, I attempted to retrace my footsteps.
In the excitement of the chase I had carelessly neglected to take any bearings, leaving that part of the business to the men who accompanied me when I dashed across the river. When I turned to speak to them, I found that not one of them was near. The long chase not being to their liking, they had turned and sneaked back long before. Two little A’kikuyu boys had alone remained, so I directed them to take me back to camp by the shortest route. They protested they did not know the way, however, so I was compelled to take the lead and to try to find it myself.
It was fast growing dusk, and as I hurried on I pictured to myself the discomforts attendant on a night passed in the fork of a tree. I was once lost in the bush for twenty-four hours while after sable antelope in Mashonaland, and I had no wish to repeat the experience. After an hour of climbing and scrambling, I once more reached the river, but alas! at a point far below our camp. The river at this place flowed through numerous narrow channels between great boulders of pink gneiss, and it seemed as if there would be a possibility of crossing by jumping from rock to rock, though it was rather a dangerous proceeding, the rocks being rendered as smooth and polished as glass by the constant action of the water. However, I stripped and attempted the crossing. When I say I stripped, I mean that I removed my boots and socks, as I had not much else on in the way of clothing; a thin cotton vest, and a coloured cloth worn petticoat-wise, completing as airy and cool a costume as one could wish for in that beautiful climate. I slipped and fell once or twice, though fortunately I sustained no injury, and half an hour later I reached camp, tired but happy, and dined sumptuously on a guinea-fowl.
At daylight the following morning we sent the men to cut up the giraffe; but they returned in an hour, saying that they were unable to find it. Judging from the way they complained of the other one I shot, I do not think they were over-anxious to do so.
Setting off once more on our march up the river, we camped soon after midday, and sent men out to search for game. Presently one man returned with the report that a solitary hippo was disporting itself in a rocky pool a little distance away. We adjourned to the spot, and on our arrival sat down to watch. In a moment or two a faint ripple disturbed the surface of the water, and under an overhanging rock on the opposite side of the pool appeared two red nostrils covered with coarse black hair. We held our breath and waited. In about twenty seconds they disappeared as suddenly and as silently as they had come into view. We waited for over an hour in the hope that the brute would expose its head and thus give us an opportunity for a decisive shot. But nothing occurred beyond the periodical appearance and disappearance of the nostrils on the water-line to indicate the presence of the huge body below. At length, as the head did not emerge, we held a whispered consultation, and El Hakim and I decided to cross the river in the hope of obtaining a shot from the opposite bank, leaving George on the look-out. We accordingly made our way down-stream to where the river, running over gravel banks, became shallower. Stripping to our shirts, we waded across breast-deep. Arrived on the other side, we cautiously made our way to a spot opposite George, and directly above the place where the hippo came to the surface to breathe. Half an hour passed while we stood still and silent as statues, with our soaked shirts flapping round our bare legs. Suddenly, unnoticed by George and myself, the hippo came to the surface a little further out in the pool. El Hakim, however, saw it instantly, and quick as thought sent a ·577 bullet through its head. He had not time to place the rifle to his shoulder, and in consequence his finger was torn by the heavy recoil. He succeeded, however, in his object, which was either to kill or momentarily stun the hippo. Presently the water in the pool became violently agitated, and soon the immense beast rolled over on the surface, and I immediately gave it its quietus with a bullet through its brain.
Our waiting men gave vent to a yell of delight, and rushed down to secure the carcase; but, to their dismay, before they could reach it the current washed it away and wedged it tightly between two rocks at the top of the small waterfall which gave exit to the pool. The pressure of the water on the body was very great, but the men needed food so badly that we made the most Herculean efforts to dislodge it by the aid of ropes and poles. After an hour’s hard work, we managed to free it, only to be thrown into the utmost consternation by the body sinking immediately to the bottom of the next pool. The men flatly refused to go into the water to look for it, as there were all sorts of queer holes in the rocks into which one could have been washed by the current and crushed or drowned, and in addition, there was the ever-present fear of crocodiles.
We sounded with poles till our arms ached, and were about to give up in despair when one or two of the men, bolder or more hungry than their fellows, jumped in and attempted to dive. Suddenly one of them came to the surface with a joyful shout, saying he had found the carcase at the bottom of the pool in ten feet of water. We gave him the end of a stout line in order that he might dive again and make it fast to one of the feet. This he attempted to do, but after repeated trials he confessed himself beaten.
There being no other help for it, I undertook the task myself, and at the third attempt, after a lot of manœuvring in the swift current, I succeeded in making the line fast round one of the legs just above the foot. Success at last seemed certain, and by dint of pulling gently on the line, we at length raised the body slowly to the surface. The excited men raised a shout of joy, which died away in a wail of bitter disappointment as the frail rope parted and the hippo sank once more to the bottom of the pool. I was by this time almost exhausted and shivering with cold, but again I essayed the task of making the rope fast, and eventually succeeded, and at length, by steady and persistent pulling on the untrustworthy line, we drew the body ashore just as the dusk fell.
The men at once set to work with their knives, and very shortly the cooking-pots were bubbling merrily away, and our hungry followers proceeded to gorge themselves on the meat; a congenial occupation which commanded their earnest attention until the early hours of the following morning.