Cairo to Kisumu

by Frank G. Carpenter

Kenya Colony is in the land of big game, and Nairobi is the chief place where parties are fitted out for hunting. As I write this chapter several large parties are here preparing to go out “on safari,” as such hunts are called. The Norfolk Hotel is filled with hunters and behind it are scores of black, half-naked porters and tent boys, packing sporting goods into boxes, laying in provisions and arranging things for the march. There are headmen rounding up the porters and giving each his load. There are gunbearers seeing to the arms and ammunition, and there are the sportsmen themselves, some clad all in khaki, some wearing riding breeches and leggings, and all in thick helmets.

First in the normal personnel of a safari comes the headman, who is supposed to be in full charge, except for the gunbearers and tent boy, who are personal servants and under the immediate direction of their masters. The askaris are armed soldiers to guard the camp at night and look after the porters on the route. There is one askari to every ten or twenty porters. The cook has a staff of assistants. Each sportsman’s tent boy must look after his tent and clothing and serve him at meals. The syces, or pony boys, look after the horses and equipment.

In the big yard upon which my hotel rooms look I can see piles of tusks, heads, horns, and skins brought in by parties which have just returned, and in one corner is the baby lion whose roars have pestered my sleep. Among the hunters are several eminent and titled English men and women, some of the latter having come out to try a shot at a lion or so. During this last year two women have shot lions here, and one of the biggest man-eaters ever killed in East Africa came down through a bullet from a gun in the hands of an American girl.

There is so much game that almost any one who goes out can bring back something. Last year’s bag, numbering many thousand head, was shot by sportsmen from England, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, India, Australia, North America, and New Zealand. We have all read the stories of Theodore Roosevelt who shot lions and elephants here and in Uganda, and we know that British East Africa has supplied the Chicago Museum and the National Museum at Washington with some of their finest zoölogical specimens.

The hunting laws here are rigid. No one can shoot without a license, and the man who kills young elephants, cow elephants, or baby giraffes will pay a big fine and spend a long term in jail. Shooting big game is regulated by license.

The sportsman’s license, with certain restrictions, gives the right to shoot or capture two bull buffaloes, four lions, one rhinoceros, two hippopotami, ten Colobi monkeys, four marabout, and a limited and specified number of other game, such as antelope, bongos, reedbucks, and cheetahs. A special license costing a hundred and fifty rupees, about fifty dollars, is required for one elephant, while the privilege of killing two elephants costs three times as much. Only two elephants are allowed every year. It costs fifty dollars to get a permit to kill or capture a giraffe and the hunter is allowed only one a year. A traveller’s license, available for a month, costs five dollars and gives the right to kill or capture four zebra and not over five antelopes out of eight named varieties. Animals killed on private land on either the traveller’s or sportsman’s license do not count in the total authorized. A register must be kept of all kills or captures under license. As for leopards and crocodiles, no permit is required to shoot them.

“Some of the zebras are within pistol shot of my train. Their black and white stripes shine in the sunlight. They raise their heads as the train passes, then continue their grazing.”

While game is abundant it is also protected by rigid laws. Every hunter must have a license and none may shoot more than four lions. A special license is required to kill the maximum of two elephants a year.