Ismail Robli was a short stout man with a shifty eye, and decidedly prognathous jaws, very plausible, and, when he had an object in view, very hospitable; but he hid a craven spirit under a show of bluster and bullying. Noor Adam was a little slim man, with narrow eyes and ferret-like features. He was reported to have shot some of his porters on his journey across West Kenia, for attempted desertion. He somehow provoked an instinctive feeling of dislike, and we never got on with him. His two partners, Bhotan and Abdallah Arahalli, were much of the same kidney. All three were Ogaden Somalis, a tribe who have not the best of reputations. There were sundry other lesser lights who are not of sufficient importance to deserve notice.
When they came into camp we received them with due ceremony, and asking them to be seated, interchanged greetings in the Mohammedan manner. For a moment the air resounded with such remarks as “Sabal Kheir” (God bless you), “Salaam Aliekoum” (Peace be on you), and “Aliekoum Salaam” (And on you peace), mingled with the Swahili “Uhali ghani? Habari ghani?” (How are you? What news?), till etiquette was satisfied. We then got to business, and discussed the Embe affair in all its bearings. El Hakim cross-questioned Noor Adam and some of his men very severely, but could find no discrepancy in their various accounts. We discussed the matter very fully, and finally, for the good and sufficient reasons I have already enumerated, we determined to punish the Wa’Embe in co-operation with the Somalis. We instructed them to provide thirty-five men carrying Snider rifles, while we undertook to supply twenty-five men similarly armed, which, with ourselves, made up a strong force of sixty-three men, a number we considered amply sufficient for the purpose in hand. We despatched a nephew of N’Dominuki’s to Embe as a spy, to find out a good road and the position of the villages, etc., and he started the same evening.
On the following day we held another “shaurie” with the Somalis to discuss the modus operandi of our projected expedition. N’Dominuki’s nephew had been instructed to return from Embe within two days, and we decided to start on the afternoon of the next day—by which time, bar accidents, he would have returned—and march immediately on receiving his report. We intended to start just before dusk, pass through M’thara in the darkness, and be over the Embe border unperceived at midnight. A short rest and a dash on the Wa’Embe at dawn would complete the operation. It was a good plan, and would have answered admirably but for one of those little accidents that make “the best-laid schemes o’ mice and men gang aft agley.” As will be seen, it suited the enemy admirably.
Embe on this side (the west) consists of a range of steep mountains, where it rains nearly all the year round. It has, therefore, a very moist climate and fertile soil, and its steep slopes and deep valleys are covered with dense jungle interspersed with banana plantations, making it a very nasty country to fight in, especially against natives who know every inch of the ground and every turn of the paths. We did not tell N’Dominuki of our plans—a very grave oversight that nearly cost us our lives and those of the whole expedition.
On the following morning, as we really could not stand the wind any longer, we shifted our camp to the inside of the forest, and while we were about it we fortified it as well as we were able by felling thorn trees, etc. We were much more sheltered in this new position, though, to be sure, it was rather damp. This wind had a nasty cold nip with it night and morning, which was the reverse of agreeable.
When we had our camp satisfactorily settled, we made our simple preparations for the expedition to Embe. We took one tent with us in case we were away more than a day or two. A loaf of bread and a hind quarter of boiled mutton were also included; and, of course, a plentiful supply of ammunition. The men had thirty rounds of Snider cartridges each, which was all we could spare. The Somalis’ men had fifty rounds each, and they, in addition, had a reserve chest of six hundred rounds for emergencies.
At 5 p.m. we started. The natives in our immediate vicinity had, with their usual unerring instinct in such matters, smelt a row, and about fifty of them turned up armed with spears and shields. We did not want them, but could not very well turn them away, and at the last moment it occurred to us that they might prove useful as scouts, and we therefore allowed them to remain. When our force had assembled, it made quite an imposing array with the sixty men with rifles and the fifty others with spears. Altogether, we commanded upwards of a hundred men, and had no doubt but that we should teach the Wa’Embe a severe lesson.
N’Dominuki’s nephew had not returned, and we concluded that he had been discovered and killed, and were consequently rather nonplussed for the lack of a guide. At the last moment a Masai warrior came forward and volunteered to guide us. On the Somalis saying that he was known to them, we accepted his services. Soon after we started, N’Dominuki’s nephew unexpectedly returned and joined us, and he and the Masai took the head of the column. Darkness had fallen as we marched through M’thara, the road continually ascending. The path at last grew extremely difficult, and on several occasions El Hakim expressed doubt as to whether we were going right. However, we were now committed to whatever the Fates had in store for us; it was impossible to withdraw.
Onward we stumbled in the darkness, now up steep hillsides, and anon down deep and gloomy valleys clothed in thick jungle where the deep booming note of a mountain torrent growled hoarsely from somewhere out of the pitchy blackness below. Soon the path became so narrow that we could advance only in Indian file, which weakened us considerably, as our fighting line was thereby stretched out for some two hundred yards, being consequently out of our immediate control, while the jungle, meeting overhead, blotted out what little light the stars provided. It was impossible, on account of the denseness of the vegetation, to place men out on our flanks, and in addition we were counting on taking the Wa’Embe by surprise, and so did not wish to make too much noise. At 10 p.m. we were well within the Embe border, and we then looked for a place to rest awhile and prepare for our rush at dawn. We could not find a suitable spot, however, and eventually decided to halt on the path. A drizzling rain came on, which did not improve matters. One of our men found a place a little distance from and below the path, that did not slope at such an acute angle as the rest of the landscape, and we as noiselessly as possible pitched the tent. El Hakim, George, and I partook of a frugal meal, but we were without water, and naturally we felt ever so much thirstier than we would otherwise have done. We placed sentries, Jamah Mahomet doing the same where he had halted on the path. We three Wasungu then dropped off to sleep.
Somewhere about midnight we awoke with a start, reaching for our rifles as the sound of a shot floated down to us from where Jamah Mahomet’s sentries were posted. It was followed by a second, and then a third. Then all was silent again, except for the subdued hum of suddenly wakened men. On sending for explanations, we found that some Wa’Embe, coming down the path, had stumbled right on to the sentries, and were instantly fired upon. All hope of a surprise was thus abolished, but on consultation we decided that if we started an hour or so earlier, possibly 3 a.m., we might take the enemy at a disadvantage. Accordingly, at that time we once more set out.