It was almost time, too, that we reached our long-desired goal. Our men had not enjoyed a full meal since El Hakim shot the rhinoceros four days before, and they were almost famished. We ourselves were little better off, having tasted nothing for two days but a few miserable M’wele cakes, no larger than a five-shilling piece. We could not stop on the summit of the hill for an indefinite period, however, much as we admired the view—our needs were too imperative; so with a last long look at the beautiful scene, we turned and cast about for a path by which to descend to the plain below. To our dismay, we discovered that the cliff dropped sheer down for two hundred feet without foothold enough for a goat. After trying two or three places without success, we were eventually compelled to force our way along the crest of the ridge, in the hope of finding some sort of path nearer the river. It was a terrible scramble, and I should think it very unlikely that even natives had ever been on to the top before—certainly no white man ever had. The wait-a-bit thorns grew together in an almost impenetrable wall, necessitating constant work with our knives to free ourselves. Great boulders barred our progress, and gravel and pebbles slipped under our feet, so that by the time we had covered a mile we were tired out.
PALMS ON THE WASO NYIRO.
Just before sunset George spotted a possibly likely place for the descent. It certainly looked desperate enough, but by this time we were beyond counting the risks. We scrambled down, therefore, leaping from boulder to boulder, and every few moments having to stop in order to cut ourselves free with our knives from the clinging embrace of the ubiquitous “wait-a-bit.” Our clothes and skin suffered terribly, but we were determined to reach the bottom somehow, and plunged and scrambled downwards, regardless of minor personal injuries. Halfway down we heard a shot from among the greenery near the river, which I recognized as El Hakim’s ·450. I answered it with another shot in order to apprize him of our presence, and continued the descent. Finally we reached the bottom, breathless and bleeding, our clothes literally in ribbons. The donkeys and cattle followed us, scrambling down in some remarkable manner, though how I could not stop to inquire. Most probably they, like ourselves, were induced by the sight of the green vegetation and the smell of water to attempt a descent which at any other time they would never have faced.
Another three-quarters of an hour over the flat brought us to the spot where El Hakim was already camped. The report we had heard had been the death-knell of a Waller’s gazelle (Lithocranius Walleri), which was at once divided among the men, so that they had at least a taste of meat to go on with—we ourselves dining on two guinea-fowl, one of which I had shot on the road, the other having been secured by El Hakim. We were all tired out, and turned in immediately we had finished eating. The tents were not needed, the climate being so mild. Indeed, from now onwards, till we were once more at this point on our way back to Kenia, we did not need to use the tents at all, except for the sake of privacy.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] The rinderpest has all but exterminated the buffalo and the eland in British East Africa, as elsewhere on the African continent.
CHAPTER XII.
IN THE RENDILI ENCAMPMENT.
Narrow escape from a python—Arrival among the Burkeneji and Rendili—No ivory—Buying fat-tailed sheep instead—Massacre of the Somalis’ porters by the Wa’embe—Consternation of Ismail Robli—His letters to Nairobi.
At sunrise next morning we were awakened by the twittering of innumerable song-birds, and by the raucous screams of the guinea-fowl and francolins calling to their mates. It was a perfect morning, the bright, clear sunshine and soft balmy atmosphere reminding one of a summer morning in the Mediterranean. Our spirits responded instantly to the cheering influence of the soft sunshine, which quickly dispelled the gloomy spectres of famine and desolation which had haunted us for so long. We resumed our journey with a cheeriness and sprightliness to which we had long been strangers.