After we had camped, I and the guide went on ahead for an hour or two in order to prospect the morrow’s road. To my great delight I saw Doenyo Sabuk, away in the distance to the south-east, and further to the south I saw the summits of the hills behind Nairobi, which lay rather less than sixty miles away. It seemed very strange to me to reflect that I was standing in the heart of Kikuyuland amid a would-be hostile people, to all intents and purposes as far away from civilization as if I was at the North Pole, and where at any moment a dispute over a stolen sheep would resolve itself into a desperate and pitiless fight for life; while there, scarcely sixty miles away, and on this side of the range of hills which seemed so near, lay Nairobi with its houses, its railway workshops, locomotives, Baboo clerks and ticket collectors, and all the varied and busy life of a modern colonial town.
During the night it rained again, and killed off some more of the sheep. We started early in the morning in the hope of reaching Maranga the same day, a hope, however, we did not realize.
The A’kikuyu made themselves rather obnoxious on the road, and one or two shots were fired by our men. A calf and sheep were stolen, the thieves getting clear away with their booty into the thick bush. If we had let the matter pass we should have had further trouble on the next march, so when we camped we sent for the chief of the district. When he appeared we informed him of the circumstance, and intimated at the same time that we should like to see him stay in our camp until the stolen property was restored. This apparently did not at all coincide with his ideas, as he immediately made a dash for liberty, meanwhile shouting to his warriors, of whom there were a great number in the camp, who disappeared into the surrounding bush like shadows. We had, however, anticipated just such a move on his part, and at a signal from us, Barri, the Somali, seized the chief and secured him, and I was under the painful necessity of handcuffing him to the tent-pole and putting a sentry over him. He then took quite a different view of the case, and despatched messengers, whom we had allowed into camp for that purpose, to the people who had stolen our animals. An hour or two afterwards the messengers returned with the missing beasts, and they were handed over to us with profuse apologies. We thereupon released the chief, telling him not to do it again, though, as a matter of fact, he did not know of the theft till we ourselves so abruptly informed him of it. We could not, however, but hold him responsible for any indiscretion committed by his people. On his release, in order to show him that we bore no malice, we presented him with a bead necklace and a coloured cloth, and asked him to bring us some sweet potatoes and yams, and anything else in the vegetable line that he might wish to present to us, which he promised to do. He accordingly returned in the evening with a supply of vegetables and a dark brown fat-tailed Kikuyu sheep as a present. In return we presented him with a couple of Rendili sheep, with which he was delighted.
The chief informed us that Maranga was only one march away and that the road was good, and, in addition, he himself would accompany us thither, in order to prevent any more of our property being stolen. He was as good as his word, and at eight o’clock the next morning we resumed our journey. Just before we started I took a photograph of Mount Kenia as it lay fully exposed to view in the half-light of the early morning of a dull day. The result is not all that could be desired, but it will give a very fair idea of the aspect of the mountain from the south-west.
We found the road as steep and slippery as on the previous day, and it tried the animals exceedingly. For that reason we made a short march and camped at half-past ten.
Soon after the tents were pitched, our old friend Manga and his son Koranja appeared. They had heard of our approach and had come to meet us. They greeted us very heartily, expressing delighted surprise at our safe return. We spent the rest of the day in discussing the news with them.
During the afternoon the chief of the surrounding district who answered to the name of Simba (lion), came into camp, and, following the example of his neighbour, our friend of yesterday, brought with him a sheep and some vegetables as a present. He received a couple of Rendili sheep in return, and we parted with mutual good wishes.
The next morning we marched straight into Maranga and camped beside a brook, which ran into the Tana about half a mile further down. Owing to the heavy rains we surmised that there would be a lot of water in the Tana; even in this small brook the water was breast high, with a current almost powerful enough to sweep one bodily away. The natives affirmed that it would be impossible to cross the Tana for at least three weeks, and perhaps longer. Accordingly after lunch I went on to the Tana accompanied by two men, in order to see for myself. My first view of the river was a revelation. It was extraordinarily high, the constant heavy rains having greatly swelled its volume; and it is not a small river at any time. The ford was under six feet of water, with a muddy brown current swirling and eddying past at a speed of between four and five miles an hour. It would have been utterly impossible to cross with our loads and animals until the flood had considerably subsided, and meanwhile the rain showed no sign of ceasing. I returned to camp thoroughly dispirited.
On the way back I passed a magnificent waterfall which I had not previously heard of. The whole volume of the river roared and tumbled in great masses of foam over the naked black rock, plunging down some twelve or fifteen feet in a yeasty smother, accompanied by a thunderous roar which effectually precluded any attempt at conversation in the immediate vicinity. At the foot of the fall the water boiled and swirled in a great pool. Waves several feet high were thrown against each other by the violence of the water, which was seemingly gathering strength for its fierce mad rush through the only outlet from the pool, a narrow channel with perpendicular sides, and about 60 feet across, cut through the solid rock. Large rugged trees hung over the falls and round the edges of the pool, their leaves dripping moisture from the hissing clouds of spray cast high in the air upon every side, the whole forming a scene of savage grandeur, wonderfully impressive, and not easily forgotten.