CHAPTER IX.
JOURNEY DOWN THE WASO NYIRO.
Arrival at the Waso Nyiro—The “Green Camp”—The “cinder-heap”—The camp on fire—Scarcity of game—Hunting a rhino on mule-back.
Next morning we continued to follow the course of the little stream which issued, greatly diminished in size, from the opposite side of the swamp. The country grew more barren as we advanced. Great gravelly areas alternated with brown earth, and now and again an outcrop of quartz or lava occurred. The universal thorn tree was the only member of the vegetable world that seemed to be able to draw any sustenance from the arid soil, with the exception of a few cacti and small aloes. Rhinoceros there were in plenty, and several giraffe loomed on the horizon. We were also greatly excited to observe elephant tracks, two or three days old, trending north-eastward towards the Waso Nyiro. In the distance we could see frowning cliffs of pink gneiss, and due north, some peculiarly shaped hills, one in particular being an almost exact replica of the Great Pyramid of Cheops at Ghizeh. Another to the left of it consisted of a pyramidal base, surmounted by a columnar peak that by some agency or other had been split vertically into two unequal portions, which remained sticking boldly upwards like a couple of gigantic teeth. Standing out prominently to the north-north-west was the massive outline of Mount Lololokwe, 3000 feet above the level of the surrounding plain, while behind it, one point more to the westward, Mount Gwarguess reared its stately head 2000 feet higher.
To our great annoyance and dismay, the little stream we were following, which had been dwindling in size for some miles, now disappeared completely into a subterranean passage. It was eleven o’clock in the forenoon, so we crept into the scanty shade afforded by some thorn trees, and rested in preparation for a long march to the Waso Nyiro in the afternoon.
The heat was intense, and the atmosphere most remarkably dry and clear. Small objects at long distances stood out with remarkable distinctness. The hills, at the foot of which flowed the Waso Nyiro, seemed not more than an hour’s march distant.
About two o’clock, having rested sufficiently, we once more forged ahead, bearing more to the north-east than in the direction we had hitherto followed. We encountered the same soft crumbling brown earth, with loose stones on the surface. Aloes, morio trees, and thorn trees were the only vegetation, and even they were only sparsely distributed. The country was formed of long rolling ridges, which we traversed at right angles. It was a weary and tiresome march. Each time we climbed a ridge we looked eagerly forward for a sight of the longed-for Waso Nyiro. Again and again we were disappointed, each ridge exactly resembling the last. At four o’clock in the afternoon we entered a small belt of thorn trees and dodged a couple of rhinos who were love-making just inside, and would no doubt have resented being disturbed. When we once more emerged from the thorn belt we gazed over a broad plain which sloped gently down to a range of dun-coloured hills some miles away. The Waso Nyiro, we knew, flowed at the foot of these hills, and once more we pressed forward, momentarily forgetting our fatigue in our eagerness to reach the desired goal.
I was walking with my Martini over my shoulder, when I was considerably startled by a noise from my left, which caused me to hurriedly bring my rifle to the ready. It was a long-drawn growling grunt, and my first thought was of lions. Closer attention, however, solved the mystery. It was the cry of a zebra, one of a herd of Grevy’s beautiful zebra which were congregated over half a mile away. The cry of the zebra is very like a long-drawn growling whistle, and in the distance, when too far off to hear the whistle, the growl very much resembles that of a lion. There were large herds of oryx in sight, and a few rhinoceros and water-buck.
The sun sank gradually lower in the western heavens, and we were still apparently no nearer the range of hills we were making for, so deceptive are the apparent distances in the clear atmosphere. But just as dusk had fallen, our eyes were gladdened by the sight of a large clump of Doum palms growing in the centre of an open green space a mile away. We made towards them, and feasted our weary eyes on the beautiful green expanse stretching out before us.
A spring emerged from the earth here, perhaps the same stream we had followed in the morning, and which had so disappointed us by suddenly disappearing. The water was quite warm, and impregnated with mineral salts; so much so as to be almost undrinkable. It welled up into a hole in the rocks about 20 feet long and 12 feet wide by 4 feet deep, forming a lovely natural bath, overgrown with varicoloured mosses and ferns. The overflow meandered through the grass for 100 yards or so in a little stream a foot deep with a pebbly bottom fringed by dark green rushes, and then spread out into a swamp overgrown with tall papyrus reeds 10 or 12 feet high. There were two or three acres of good green grass on one side of the swamp, to which our animals rushed with whinnies of delight the instant they caught sight of it, and ate and ate as if they would never stop. We crossed this little stream, and pitched the tents under some large thorn trees. We christened the place “Green Camp.” It was about 3500 feet above sea-level, and over 1000 feet lower than M’thara.
There was a splendid specimen of the Doum palm on the other side of the camp, which can be seen in the photograph of the Green camp. The Doum palm (Hyphæne Thebaica) is called m’lala by the Swahilis. It is a very graceful palm, and grows to a great height on the Waso Nyiro, and was to be found everywhere along the banks of the river. The stem divides into two branches a few feet from the ground, each branch again and again dividing and being crowned with its canopy of broad, flat, fan-shaped leaves. The fruit, about the size of a potato, is mostly hard uneatable kernel, with a layer of moist fibre, about half an inch thick, contained in a reddish bitter rind. It reminds one of eating chopped cocoanut fibre, with a sweetish, slightly astringent flavour. George and I ate quantities of it later on, as also did the men, when we were without other vegetables.