Song of Kinyala.
| (Solo) | “Wasungu kwenda wapi? |
| (Omnes) | Kwenda kwa Rendili. |
| (Solo) | Kwani kwenda kwa Rendili? |
| (Omnes) | Kwa sababu ya n’gamia. |
| Wasungu wa’ntaka n’gamia; | |
| Wasungu wa’ntaka kondo ya mafuta; | |
| Huko kwa Rendili n’yama tele-tele.” |
Translation.
| (Solo) | “Where are the white men going? |
| (Omnes) | They are going to the place of the Rendili. |
| (Solo) | Why do they go to the place of the Rendili? |
| (Omnes) | Because of the camels. |
| The white men want camels; | |
| The white men want fat-tailed sheep; | |
| There in the place of the Rendili is very much meat.” |
The above is a specimen, with a somewhat free translation, of the half song, half recitative, so dear to the native heart. It is generally impromptu, and contains at times a certain dry humour and caustic comment on current events that is quite unexpected.
Thinking that this was a good opportunity of making another trial of baked elephant’s foot, I caused a large hole to be dug in the centre of the camp, and a party of men were sent into the forest to gather sufficient fuel. When the fuel arrived, an immense fire was kindled in the hole. All day long it burnt, and in the evening we were rewarded by the sight of a glowing pit filled to the brim with red-hot ashes. With much trouble (the foot weighed nearly forty pounds, and the furnace was very hot) we placed the bulky tit-bit in the ashes, and then, building a large bonfire over it, we considered that we had done our part of the business, and hopefully awaited developments.
Several times during the ensuing twenty-four hours El Hakim or I carefully poked the fire with an iron bar in the endeavour to ascertain whether the foot was cooking properly. We were absolutely certain that, if it were not burnt to a cinder, it would be at least sufficiently cooked, and it was in high hopes that we should at last partake of the reputed dainty, that we disinterred it from the miniature crater on the following evening. Alas and alack! in spite of all our toil and trouble it was as indiarubber-like as its predecessor. Twenty-four hours in the fire had burnt the outside and reduced the foot somewhat in size, but the rest was as uncooked as if it had never been near the flame. This result, however, was entirely our own fault, as, on looking up the subject since, I find that we were entirely wrong in our method of cooking it. The true recipe, as given by Mr. Foa,[17] is as follows:—
“Take an elephant’s foot, preferably young and very fresh; remove the white flesh which covers the bone, and cut it into strips the thickness of your finger, reminding one of sticks of pâté de guimauve. Place the appetizing strips for two days in the sun to dry, and collect the pure fat which exudes from them in the form of clear oil. To make the dish known as mwendo wa nzou, take one of these strips, cut it into small pieces, put it into a saucepan containing a little water, place it on a gentle fire, and renew the water several times. When a jelly has formed, add to it the oil in which you have browned a few onions, a little thyme, etc., or an equivalent aromatic plant, one or two very strong chillies, and let it cook gently for twenty hours, still adding water when necessary. Serve hot, with manioc flour or grated biscuit separately.
“N.B.—This dish keeps several days, and only requires re-warming.”
So far, so good; but as our friend N’Dominuki did not keep a general store where we might have been able to purchase the few onions, thyme, and chillies, etc., required, it would not have helped us much even had we possessed this recipe at the time.