An hour later we crossed a small stream and found ourselves among some good native paths which led into nice-looking open bush country. Three hours later we camped, and sent men out to look for villages so that we might purchase food from the inhabitants, though as they were A’kikuyu, we were rather doubtful of our reception.
A rhinoceros charged through the camp while we were pitching the tents, scattering the men in all directions, though fortunately doing no harm, and disappeared into the bush on the opposite side of the camp.
At dusk a great crowd of A’kikuyu swaggered into camp, making a most infernal din, and waving knob kerries about in a very reckless manner. At first they seemed aggressive, but when we intimated our willingness to present sheep as payment for a few days’ supply of muhindi, they changed their tune, and the bartering then went on amicably enough, though accompanied by a terrific amount of noise, without which the A’kikuyu seem to be unable to conduct even the smallest business transaction. To the great delight of the men we secured five days’ supply of muhindi and a quantity of sugar cane, besides a little honey.
On inquiry we learnt that Maranga was four days’ journey to the eastward. The path lay through thickly populated country the whole way, and we anticipated some difficulty in traversing it without losing any of the sheep, as the A’kikuyu are expert thieves. We were on the south bank of the Tana, and consequently we should be compelled to cross it, as the country on the south bank, though comparatively uninhabited, was a mass of rugged hills, and practically pathless. We were not anxious to cross the Tana, as it would necessitate our re-crossing it at Maranga, and with the amount of rain which had recently fallen, we were very doubtful whether the ford would be practicable. We secured a guide for the following day, promising him a sheep if he took us safely to Maranga. We heard further that Mr. Hall, the Government officer, had established a station at Mbiri, a couple of hours’ journey from the south bank of the Tana opposite Maranga. This was, indeed, good news, as we were yearning to see a white face once more, and incidentally get something decent to eat. Another white man, whose name we could not ascertain, was stationed with Mr. Hall. He was the officer in charge of the Nubian troops who garrisoned the station.
At nine o’clock the following morning we broke camp and started. Half an hour later we crossed the Tana, here about six yards wide and waist deep. There was a very strong swift current, and this occasioned some difficulty when getting the sheep across. During the operation numbers of A’kikuyu volunteered to assist, but we considered it prudent to keep them at a distance. The road on the other side was very bad, consisting merely of a narrow footpath winding along the steep slope of a rounded hill, about halfway up. On each side of the path the grass was very thick and three to four feet high. Many A’kikuyu had concealed themselves in this grass, and endeavoured every now and then to quietly seize a sheep by the hind leg as it passed and then sneak away with it. This necessitated constant watchfulness on our part, as the sheep, owing to the narrowness of the track, were compelled to travel in single file, and were stretched over a quarter of a mile of path, so that it was impossible with our few men to guard the whole line at once. Small groups of natives followed us. They appeared very friendly, too friendly in fact, and they displayed quite an alarming desire to assist us in driving the sheep, though we consistently declined their kind offers, to their evident disappointment. It took us three hours to travel two miles, so we halted and camped. Luckily the rain kept off. The guide, on being questioned, promised us a better road on the morrow.
It rained a little in the night, and prevented our starting till nine o’clock. As the guide had predicted, the road was very much better. Another river, the Mogoroni, a tributary of the Tana, was crossed during the morning, and after a three-hour march, we camped once more.
On the way we passed through many villages and extensive plantations; indeed, from here to Maranga the country was very densely populated, and food was more than plentiful. At the various camps the natives brought us cow ivory for sale, but we were unable to buy it as cow ivory is confiscated by the Government. It seemed rather a shame to leave it, but under the circumstances we could not do otherwise.
At this camp we were visited by the paramount chief of the district, a Masai named Kwa-Ngombe. He was accompanied by many of his elmoru (elders) and some Wandorobbo. Kwa-Ngomba strode haughtily into camp and demanded a cow as a present. We promptly refused to accede to such a preposterous demand, and after he had repeated it, and was still met with a decided refusal, he stalked out of camp the picture of offended dignity. He himself had not brought even so much as a sweet potato, so that we were the more abrupt in our refusal. After his departure some of his elders and the Wandorobbo stayed with us for an hour or so for a chat. They gave us the general news of the district, and among other items of more or less doubtful veracity, they included an impossible yarn about some cannibal dwarfs who had visited Maranga since our stay in that place. They described them as “watu wafupi sana” (“very short men”), and indicated, by holding their hands that distance above the ground, that they were about four feet in height. They further stated that these dwarfs came to Maranga to buy people that they might eat them. We cross-examined them closely, for we did not at all believe their story. They were asked where these dwarfs came from. That question rather stumped them, but after a few moments’ cogitation they hit on the furthest place they could think of. “They came from beyond Mombasa!” said they.
On receiving this reply, we were convinced that the story was a pure fabrication, and said as much. They only smiled and changed the subject. We inquired at Maranga afterwards, and were confirmed in our opinion as to their untruthfulness. It is very strange that they should find so much amusement in such senseless and purposeless lies, though, to be sure, the practice is not wholly confined to the African native.
It rained hard all night, and the whole of the next day, so that travelling was impossible. We spent the day playing dominoes, going outside at intervals to watch the sheep die, and to grumble at our bad luck. It rained also all the next night and the greater part of the next morning; but it cleared sufficiently at midday to enable us to proceed. We therefore made a three-hour march and again camped. The clay paths were very steep and extremely slippery after the rain, causing us no small amount of trouble, while the sick and wearied sheep stumbled about in a most distressing manner.