An ivory trader in North Kenia

by A. Arkell-Hardwick

At the time of our visit there had been no rain during the previous three years, and in consequence the pasturage had almost entirely disappeared. Even on the Waso Nyiro it was very scanty.

We found the Burkeneji a very sullen people. The young men especially, very inclined to be pugnacious, and, not knowing our real strength, were haughtily contemptuous in their dealings with us. The majority were apparently unaware of the power of our rifles, though one or two of the old men had seen shots fired at game. The Burkeneji and the Rendili together had, some time before, fought with the Ogaden Somalis, many of whom were armed with old muzzle-loading guns, using very inferior powder and spherical bullets. The Rendili declared that they were able to stop or turn the bullets with their shields. The following incident shows the serio-comic side of their belief in their own native weapons.

A party of Burkeneji warriors were in our camp one day when I returned from an unsuccessful search for game. They noticed my rifle, and one of the party put out his hand as if he wished to examine it. I handed it to him, and he and his friends pawed it all over, commenting on its weight; finally it was handed back to me with a superior and contemptuous smile, while they balanced and fondled their light spears with an air of superiority that was too ludicrous to be offensive.

The Burkeneji are very like the Masai or the Wakwafi of Nyemps in appearance, wearing their hair in a pigtail in the same manner, while their clothing and ornaments are very similar. Owing probably to long residence with the Rendili, however, they are gradually adopting the dress and ornaments of the latter, a large majority of them having already taken to cloth for everyday wear. They appeared to be very fond of gaudily coloured “laissos,” quite unlike the Rendili, who will wear nothing but white. The Burkeneji speak Masai, but most of them understand the language of the Rendili.

They own large numbers of good cattle and grey donkeys, and also large flocks of sheep and goats, the latter mainly looted from the Rendili. This little failing accounts for the nickname “dthombon” (robbers) given them by the latter. Their donkeys were beautiful animals, in splendid condition, being sleek, glossy coated, and full of fight. It was risky for strangers to approach them while they were grazing. They seemed inclined to take the offensive on the one or two occasions on which I endeavoured to get near enough to examine them; and to have had to shoot one in self-defence would probably have led to serious trouble with its owner. Besides which, such a course seemed to me to savour too much of the ridiculous. They were more than half wild, and many were wearing a particularly diabolical twitch, otherwise I suppose even their owners would have had some difficulty in handling them. This cruel instrument consisted of a piece of flexible wood a foot in length thrust through the cartilage of the nostrils, the ends being drawn together with cord, so that the whole contrivance resembled a bow passed through the nose.

The Burkeneji were very unwilling to trade; in fact, they refused to have anything to do with us. On one occasion this bad feeling led to friction between some of our men and the young warriors of one of their villages. We had sent a small party of five or six men to this particular village with a supply of cloth, wire, and beads for the purpose of buying sheep. Our men were from the first badly received, and after a while the warriors commenced to hustle them. They put up with it for some time, but presently a spear was thrown, happily without fatal result, as the M’kamba at whom it was launched received it on the butt of his Snider, where it made a deep cut in the hard wood. Our men, with commendable prudence, refrained from using their rifles, and returned to camp amid the jeers of their assailants.

On their return El Hakim decided that it was absolutely necessary that the matter should be stringently dealt with, and to that end issued orders that on the following morning a party of our men were to hold themselves in readiness to accompany us to the village for the purpose of demanding a “shaurie.” These preparations, however, proved superfluous, as at sunrise we were waited upon by a deputation of elders from the village in question, who had come to try to square matters. As a sign of our displeasure, we kept them waiting for some time, and after the suspense had reduced them to a sufficiently humble frame of mind, we condescended to appear and listen to their explanation.

They prefaced their apology by a long rambling statement to the effect that “the Burkeneji were the friends of the white man.” “It was good to be friends,” said they, “and very bad not to be friends,” and so on. After they had quite exhausted their limited powers of rhetoric, we put in a few pointed questions.

“Do friends throw spears?” we asked.

“Oh, that!” said they, in tones of surprise that we should have noticed such a trivial occurrence, and they forthwith plunged into a maze of apologies and explanations to the effect that young men would be young men. It was, of course, extremely regrettable that such an unpleasant incident should have occurred to mar our friendly relations, but they trusted we would take a lenient view of the conduct of the foolish young man, the more so as he had already been driven away from the village as a punishment for his offence. “And,” they added, with a charming naïveté, “would we give them a present and say no more about it?”