ERRATA
| Page | 135, line 16, for “M’gomba” read “N’gombe.” |
| ” | 135, lines 17, 18, for “due north of Mathara” read “north of the Jombeni Mountains.” |
| ” | 136, line 19, for “Guaso” read “Waso.” |
| ” | 136, line 23, for “Gwarguess” read “Wargasse.” |
| ” | 147, 148, for “Koromo” read “Karama.” |
| ” | 178, lines 9, 10, 13, for “N’gomba” read “N’gombe.” |
| ” | 183, line 2, for “sassi” read “sassa.” |
| ” | 213, lines 30, 32, for “Van Hohnel” read “von Hohnel.” |
| ” | 264, line 30, for “M’Nyanwezi” read “M’Nyamwezi.” |
THROUGH KIKUYU TO
GALLA-LAND
INTRODUCTION.
My friend, George Henry West, and myself left Cairo in the latter part of the year 1899, with the intention of proceeding to Uganda viâ Zanzibar and Mombasa. George was an engineer in the service of the Irrigation Department of the Egyptian Government, and had gained a large and varied experience on the new works on the Barrage below Cairo, then being concluded, and in building, running, and repairing both locomotives and launches. As a profession I had followed the sea for three years, leaving it in 1896 in order to join the British South African Police, then engaged in subduing the native rebellion in Mashonaland. At the conclusion of hostilities I wandered over South Africa, and finally found my way to Egypt, where I met George West. A year later, accompanied by George, I was on my way southwards again, en route for British East Africa.
When George and I left Cairo, our idea was to go up-country as far as the Lake Victoria Nyanza, as we considered it extremely probable that there would be something for us to do in the engineering line, either in building launches or in the construction of small harbour works.
We reached Mombasa in due course, and from there proceeded to Nairobi by the railway then in course of construction to Uganda. Nairobi is 327 miles from the coast, and is an important centre, being the headquarters of both the Civil Administration of the Protectorate and the Uganda railway. On our arrival, George received an offer, which he accepted, to go up to the lake with a steamer, which was then on the way out from England in sections, and on his arrival at the lake with it to rebuild it. I remained in Nairobi.
In course of time I met the personage referred to in these pages as “El Hakim,”[1] whom I had known previously by repute. He was said to be one of the most daring and resolute, and at the same time one of the most unassuming Englishmen in the Protectorate; a dead shot, and a charming companion. He had been shooting in Somaliland and the neighbourhood of Lake Rudolph for the previous four years, and many were the stories told of his prowess among elephant and other big game.
It was with sincere pleasure, therefore, that I found I was able to do him sundry small services, and we soon became fast friends. In appearance he was nothing out of the common. He was by no means a big man—rather the reverse, in fact—and it was only on closer acquaintance that his striking personality impressed one.
He had dark hair and eyes, and an aquiline nose. He was a man of many and varied attainments. Primarily a member of the medical profession, his opinions on most other subjects were listened to with respect. A very precise speaker, he had a clear and impartial manner of reviewing anything under discussion which never failed to impress his hearers.