We were informed that all the people northward were “kali sana” (very fierce), and we should do well to use the utmost precaution in passing through the various districts—a piece of advice we did not intend to disregard. To go round the other way meant quite a fortnight more on the road to M’thara, in addition to which El Hakim was very anxious to see Mount Kenia from the east side, as, indeed, were we all, as no white men that we knew of had been round that way before. Perhaps the fact that the Somalis funked the M’bu route had something to do with our decision also.
We gathered what information we could of the topography of M’bu and the adjacent countries, which afterwards proved exceedingly useful. We packed up our goods and chattels, and made our preparations for a start on the morrow. One of our men, Hamisi, had a severe attack of dysentery, and we made arrangements with the old Manga to leave him behind with enough cloth for his keep for some months. Manga’s son Koranja and some of the old men signified their intention of accompanying us part of the way. It appeared that for two days’ journey we should be among friendly tribes. After that, the Wa’M’bu!
We started the following morning as soon as Koranja appeared. The country was extraordinarily rich and fertile. The soil is bright red, and produces, in conjunction with the constant moisture, a practically unlimited food-supply. The ground was very hilly and well watered—too well watered for our comfort. There were no large trees, but the undergrowth was very rank and dense. We saw large quantities of the castor-oil plant (Ricinus communis) growing wild. The natives press the dark-coloured oil from the seeds and smear their bodies with it.
Several times on that morning’s march we saw Koranja, who was leading, dart hurriedly to one side, and, leaving the path, plunge into the undergrowth, making a devious détour round something, followed, of course, by the safari. We asked the reason of his strange conduct, and the answer more than satisfied us. It was the single word “ndui” (small-pox). We passed quite half a dozen villages which were entirely depopulated by the scourge. Now and again we saw a solitary emaciated figure, covered with small-pox pustules, crouching on the side of the path, watching us with an uninterested and vacant stare. On a shout from Koranja and a threatening motion of his spear, it would slink mournfully away into the deeper recesses of the jungle.
We reached a small clearing about midday, and camped. We were unable to build a boma round the camp, owing to the absence of thorn trees, or any reliable substitute; so that we were in a measure defenceless against a sudden attack. Large numbers of armed natives soon put in appearance, and swaggered in and out with great freedom, and even insolence. We cleared them out politely, but firmly, and they then congregated outside and discussed us. They talked peacefully enough, but it was more like the peaceful singing of a kettle before it boils over. We ate our lunch, and retired to our tents. George and I went to our own tent, and, taking off our boots, laid down on our blankets for a quiet smoke. Our men seemed very much upset by the stories they had heard in Maranga concerning the warlike qualities of the Wa’M’bu, and their condition could only be described as “jumpy.” To put it plainly, they were in a pitiable state of fright, and needed careful handling, if we were to avoid trouble with the natives through their indiscretion; as trouble would come quite soon enough of its own accord without that.
GROUP OF A’KIKUYU.
To resume, George and I had lain down, perhaps, half an hour, and were quite comfortable and half asleep, when a terrific altercation caused us to jump up and rush outside. We were just in time to assist El Hakim in forcibly disarming our men. Some of them were placing cartridges in the breeches of their rifles; a few yards away a vast crowd of natives were frantically brandishing their spears and clubs and yelling like demons. If a shot had been fired, we should have been in rather a tight place, for, as I have said, the camp was quite open, and practically defenceless. If the A’kikuyu had rushed us, then the chances are that another fatality would have been added to Africa’s already long list. As it was, by much shouting and punching, we induced our excited and frightened men to put down their weapons in time, and so regained control over them.
Koranja, shaking visibly, went up to the Kikuyu chief and smoothed matters down, after which mutual explanations ensued. It appeared that an M’kikuyu warrior had indulged too freely in “tembo” (native beer), and had run amuck through our camp. Our men, in their already fidgety state, jumped to the conclusion that they were being attacked, seized their rifles, and were about to use them, when our timely appearance on the scene prevented a very pretty butchery. The natives professed to be very sorry for what had occurred, and, seizing their drunken companion, hurried him away, and peace, if not harmony, was restored.
We did not trust them, however, as they seemed very sullen over the whole business. Koranja was also very nervous, and showed it, which did not tend to reassure our men. We ate our dinner at dusk, to the accompaniment of howling and shouting from A’kikuyu concealed in the surrounding bush. We doubled the guard at sundown, just before we went to dinner, giving them the most precise instructions in the event of an alarm. At the conclusion of the meal we were startled by a volley from the sentries. The whole camp was immediately alarmed, and symptoms of a panic manifested themselves. We restored order with a little difficulty, and, on investigation, found that the sentries had fired on some natives skulking round in undue proximity to the camp.