An ivory trader in North Kenia

by A. Arkell-Hardwick

While we were pitching the tents a rhinoceros emerged from among the papyrus, where he had been wallowing in the swamp, and trotted towards us. A shout soon caused him to change his mind, and off he went full gallop for the Waso Nyiro, which, I should have remarked, was about half a mile distant.

The country outside the camp was covered in places with large white patches of mineral salts, principally carbonate of soda and sulphate of magnesia; but we searched in vain for any common salt. There was very little soil, and the men who were driving in the tent-pegs struck rock three or four inches below the surface. A violent gale of wind came on at sundown, and it needed the most extraordinary precautions, in the way of extra guy-ropes to the tents, to prevent them being blown bodily away.

After supper we held a consultation to decide what form our plans should take. First and foremost, we wished to find the Burkeneji and Rendili peoples, in order to trade for ivory. These people are nomads, and wander at will over the immense tract of desert country bounded, roughly, on the north by Southern Somaliland, on the south by the Waso Nyiro, on the west by Lake Rudolph, and on the east by the fortieth degree of longitude. They have one or two permanent settlements, notably Marsabit, some eight or ten days’ journey to the north of the Waso Nyiro, and at Mount Nyiro, situated some two or three marches south of Lake Rudolph. There was every sign that there had been a long drought (we found afterwards that no rain had fallen for three years), and it was more than likely that they had come south to the Waso Nyiro, as was their habit when water was scarce in the arid country to the north.

After a little deliberation, therefore, we determined to follow the course of the Waso Nyiro down-stream—that being, of course, to the eastward—in order to try to discover the Rendili, whom we were very anxious to find.

We started soon after daybreak the following morning. The weather was perfect, being dry, warm, and clear; we felt it a pleasure to be alive. We followed the river, as there was, of course, no other water. The course of the Waso Nyiro is always clearly defined by the belts of Doum palms that fringe the banks, and by the greater greenness of the vegetation in its immediate vicinity. At first we thought that if we followed the general direction of the river, viz. eastward, we should never be far from the water, whether it was in sight at the moment or not. Two or three days’ journey, however, undeceived us on that point. The river, as a matter of fact, winds about in a most extraordinary manner, and on several occasions when, thinking we were near the river, we halted for the purpose of camping, we found, owing to an utterly unexpected turn, that it was really miles away. Consequently we adopted the more fatiguing but safer course of following it in all its windings.

Just such an experience befell us on the morning we left “Green Camp.” Away to the eastward of that place, and about ten miles distant, was a mass of gneiss rock known as Mount Sheba, towering 500 feet above the plain, and 3500 feet above sea-level. We knew the river flowed within a mile or two of it, but on which side, whether to the north or south, we were uncertain. We therefore made for the north end of the mountain, as, if the river flowed to the south, we should necessarily meet it, while if it went to the north we should still be going right.

The first hour’s march was fairly easy. Level stretches of sand covered with patches of mineral salts, and dotted with stunted thorn trees, offered no great impediment to our progress. Several rhinoceros were browsing about, one brute being right in our path. We cautiously approached and shouted at him, but he did not seem disposed to move. On approaching nearer we saw that he was wounded, a great hole in his ribs showing that he had been fighting his brother rhinoceros, and had, apparently, considerably the worst of the argument. Rhinoceros are inveterate fighters amongst themselves; and of all the animals shot during the expedition there was not one who did not show healed or partially healed wounds somewhere in the region of the ribs. As this particular beast would not move, I started forward with the intention of shooting him, but he suddenly awoke to the exigencies of the situation, and quietly trotted out of harm’s way.

As we proceeded, smooth patches of black lava showed themselves above the surface of the sand, and quartzose rocks occurred here and there. Half a mile further on rose a plateau about 25 feet high, apparently composed of some black substance. It lay right in our path, and we pushed forward towards it in order to more closely examine it. When we arrived at the foot, we found, to our dismay, that it was composed of blocks of black vesicular lava, varying in size from a football to an ordinary trunk. It stretched in either direction, left and right, as far as the eye could see, and there was no alternative but to attempt to cross over the top, which we were very loth to do, although we consoled ourselves with the thought that it would only be for a few hundred yards. We therefore scrambled to the summit, and only then got a faint idea of what was before us.

The whole country round was covered with loose blocks of lava to a depth of 30 to 50 feet. The surface was not even fairly level, but was irregularly disposed in heaps, forming little hills and valleys of loose and often insecurely poised stones. There was a great and ever-present risk of a careless movement bringing two or three tons of stuff rolling down, and obliterating the unfortunate individual who had disturbed the status quo. The hard slag-like blocks were perforated by innumerable holes caused by air-bubbles when the lava was fluid, giving them the structure and appearance of a dark brown, or black, petrified sponge, the ragged edges of which soon reduced our boots to ribbons. The men who were wearing sandals suffered severely, as did the animals. It was, of course, impossible to ride, the mules having painfully hard work even to get along alone.

Imagine a tiny ant endeavouring to clamber across a newly laid, unrolled cinder-track, and you will have our position precisely. There was, however, no help for it; the cinder-heap, as we dubbed it, had to be crossed. We advanced slowly and painfully for over two hours, but, to our inexpressible disappointment, saw no signs of nearing the other side. The heat of the sun was terrific. Its rays, beating vertically down, were readily absorbed by the lava, seemingly almost causing it to glow in the intense heat, which, radiating afresh from under our feet, gave us the feeling of being slowly baked in an immense oven.