“Come on, fellows, here’s a chance to see some action. Maybe, to take a hand in it,” cried Bob, starting in pursuit.
Chief Ruku-Ru had placed himself at the head of his men and departed on the run before the boys could so much as ask his intentions. The blacks were still flowing along, on either side of the boys.
“But my camera,” wailed Frank, who was a great movie fan. “I can’t tote all this stuff myself. And I don’t want to leave it behind. Think of the chance to get a real battle picture.”
“I’ll take the dratted thing,” said Bob. And sweeping the legs of the tripod together, he gathered up tripod and camera, and started away, automatic already out and gripped in his free hand.
Jack picked up one reel case and Frank another, and, with Wimba and Matse clinging to their heels, away they went in pursuit of the running warriors.
CHAPTER VII
BOB MEETS THE BONE CRUSHER
Closer to civilization than most native tribes, by reason of the British development of Kenya Colony, yet the Kikuyus still cling to primitive customs. In nothing is this more apparent than in their methods of warfare and in the instruments employed.
Instead of paying many head of cattle to rascally traders for the trade guns smuggled to many tribes, they continue to use bows and arrows and spears, both for making war and for hunting.
So now as the boys galloped along at the tail end of the charging warriors of Chief Ruku-Ru, automatics in hand, they realized that if it came to close quarters with the enemy they would be of material assistance to their hosts by reason of the superiority of their weapons. For the enemy were Kikuyus, too, although of another clan, this big race being scattered in thirteen loosely-organized clans over a wide territory. And the raiders would be no differently armed than their hosts.
Down the hill, through a cover of woods, and into the village dashed Chief Ruku-Ru and his warriors, the boys at the rear but holding their own.