We were parched with thirst, having had no water since the previous afternoon. Once in a while the flash of a sentry’s rifle would momentarily light up the surrounding jungle, and the sharp report stabbed the silence. I laid down on the path and slept—fighting sometimes affects me that way—and woke up at dawn, just as Jamah died. We were exceedingly sorry, as he was one of the best of his race we ever had to do with. At the first glimmer of daylight we dug a grave on the side of the path, and he was buried with all the ordinances proclaimed by Mohammedan law that were possible under the circumstances. Prayers and lamentations in Arabic resounded on all sides from the deceased’s assembled compatriots.
There being now no signs of the enemy, El Hakim, George, and I were for continuing the advance and pulling the fat out of the fire somehow, but Ismail and the other Somalis would not hear of it. They said that the enemy were now fully prepared for us, and instanced the numerous freshly dug pits that had been found on each side of the path when digging Jamah’s grave. Another argument they employed was that our respective camps were almost entirely unprotected, and it was more than likely that the Wa’M’thara or the Wa’Chanjai would attack and loot them in our absence, more especially as they (the Somalis) had a large number of cattle, which are particularly tempting to a native. In addition, we were now entirely without guides, while the path ahead seemed worse than ever.
We saw the force of this reasoning, and common prudence directed that, for the present at any rate, we must abandon the attack; which decision, though gall and wormwood to we Englishmen, we were reluctantly compelled to admit was the wisest possible under the circumstances. We made up our minds, however, that we would return under more favourable auspices, and wipe out the disgrace of our defeat, for defeat it was, and so with that understanding we acquiesced in the retreat, and gave the necessary orders to retire.
It was with very mixed feelings that we travelled back over the difficult path we had trodden a few hours before with such confidence. We found out afterwards that our sudden retreat disconcerted the Wa’Embe, who were massed in force further along the path at a place where they had dug a large number of pits, in which they had kindly placed sharpened spikes for our reception.
At eight o’clock we were met on the road by an M’thara man named Koromo, who handed us a jar of honey as a present. When we got within a mile or two of our camp large numbers of fully armed natives slunk past us, going towards Chanjai. They were coming from the direction of our camp. Hurrying on with sinking hearts, we soon arrived at the camp, and to our great relief found all safe, though Jumbi was full of some report or other about armed natives who had been round the camp during the night. We said he could tell us about it afterwards, as at present we wished to eat. It was then one o’clock in the afternoon, so we set to and made a hearty meal, and afterwards retired to our blankets and slept the sleep of the just until dinner-time.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] “Through Jungle and Desert,” by William Astor Chanler, A.M. (Harv.), F.R.G.S., pp. 168-177.
[4] “Elephant Hunting in East Equatorial Africa,” by Arthur H. Neumann, pp. 42, 43.
CHAPTER VI.
OUR MOVEMENTS IN M’THARA AND MUNITHU.
Attempt of the Wa’M’thara to loot our camp—“Shauri” with Ismail—The Somalis accuse N’Dominuki of treachery—He vindicates himself—That wicked little boy!—Explanation of the Embe reverse—Somalis lose heart—Attacked by ants—El Hakim’s visit to Munithu—Robbery of his goods by the Wa’Gnainu—I join him—We endeavour to recover the stolen property from the Wa’Gnainu—The result.