What in the world is he after?
As we draw closer, I am extremely surprised at seeing that the man does not allow himself to be in the least disturbed in his proceedings. Now his bullets begin to whistle unpleasantly near me. I fire in the air, once, twice.... Now his attention is attracted, and simultaneously I perceive a number of dark objects near the marksman. They seem to be his companions, black men, and squatting on the ground.
From the background there emerge now great numbers of such objects—it must be a large caravan.
The distance between us is diminished so that one can see plainly.... Now we can shout to each other.... At last I learn that the hunter is marching with his long caravan of bearers to the great lake. He has been putting out all his exertions to shoot some wild animals. But although he has many surprisingly interesting hunting adventures to tell of as the result of his three months’ march from the coast to this point, that task seems to have been beyond his powers! With a well-aimed shot he has stretched on the ground just one single dwarf gazelle!!
After shaking hands, he bewails the fact that he has a rifle that shoots so baldly. He says its system is absolutely worthless, especially against wild animals.
Our fleeting acquaintance is broken off in a few minutes. He is the first newly arrived European that I have met for a long time, but I have not too much sympathy for this class of sportsmen. So my new acquaintance goes off, still blazing away freely. He has been urged on by my information that his camping and watering, place for the day is a long way off, and that the borders of the lake seem to me to be fever-haunted.
A queer kind of shepherd, in truth, for these wild herds! I fear he would be very like a wolf, or rather—to be zoologically and geographically precise—a leopard, in sheep’s clothing!
Again I was alone; the disturber of my peace had not frightened away the animals. So, as I was regaining strength rapidly, I decided to halt here for a few days. This meant having to provide for oneself in the most primitive way, for I was short of some of the most necessary provisions and supplies. But in such conditions the decision was not difficult to take. I shall not easily forget the days I spent there.
The plateau of the volcanic lakes Naiwasha, Elementeita and Nakuro, standing nearly 6,000 feet above the sea, presents to the spectator all the austere, stern, and strange charm peculiar to the Masai uplands.
Some ten years have gone by since that expedition of mine, and all is now changed. Up to that time only the natives had lived in these districts. Few Europeans had penetrated into these solitudes; but now a track of iron rails links the Indian Ocean with the Central African Lake basin, and the shrill whistle of the locomotive sounds in the equatorial wilderness. Wherever the influence of the railway extends, the Masai, whom I then learned to know, have disappeared. Reservations have been assigned to them, like the Indians of North America.