We were all very busy now, getting the wagons and harness ready and fixing up the loads for our journey to Uganda.
We found that if we were to get the loads through by the time agreed upon we should want at least five hundred porters, so we tried to engage some natives from the Wakamba[[1]] to go with us. With the native disinclination to move except just as they felt inclined, they absolutely refused to go; so it was arranged that I should go on ahead with the wagons, while Gibbons should come on later with the porters.
[1]. Wakamba, i.e., natives of the Kamba tribe who inhabit that region.
I started with one hundred loads of Government stuff on five wagons, while my camp outfit, food, &c., was carried on another, and took about twenty of the men with me. Being unable to get the necessary porters, we had to leave some of the loads behind in charge of two of the men, intending to return for them later, but, as it happened, we never saw them again.
I soon found that the donkey outfit did not work by any means as smoothly as we had hoped, the donkeys never having been in harness before and the men being new to the work. The drivers could not keep on the road, wagons capsized, and things went wrong generally. None of the rivers we had to cross were bridged, and when we had got the wagons down into the hollow of the river bed it was a terrible job to get them up on the other side; the only way being to get all the boys to push at the back, so that it took several hours’ hard work at each of the rivers before we managed to get donkeys, wagons, and loads from one side to the other.
The country generally was dry and bushy, being covered with thick scrub, which made our progress so slow that, after two or three days’ travelling, we were overtaken by Gibbons with the remainder of the men.
While we were sitting by the camp fire that night, waiting for a meal, I was very nearly shot by Gibbons, who was anxious to explain the working of the Snider rifle to me. Taking a rifle from an askari, he put in a cartridge, wishing to show me that it was absolutely impossible for it to go off at half-cock, and, pointing the rifle towards me, he said, “You see, it won’t go off now.” I objected, and was pushing the rifle to one side, when it actually did go off, the bullet whizzing close by my ear!
The free, gipsy-like life in the open just suited my inclination. The absolute freedom to go where one liked, and do as one liked, without any of the restrictions which meet one on every side in civilized countries, and the feeling that you are literally “monarch of all you survey,” appealed very strongly to me, and I felt that I had at last found the life suited thoroughly to my disposition.
We started off again and made very good progress, as, by the aid of the moon, we were able to travel at night. We were now crossing the Athi Plain, which extends for about one hundred miles and teems with almost every kind of game except elephants, so we were able to keep the caravan well supplied with meat. Almost every night my boys used to rouse me up with a scare of lions, but, although I always turned out, I never saw any cause for the excitement.
After travelling for some days, we finally arrived at Nairobi, since become the capital of British East Africa, and here the character of the country completely changed. From the dry scrub-covered plain we now entered a splendid grazing country, with magnificent forests and beautiful woodland scenery, making a very pleasant change from the bare landscape of the last few marches. What is now known as Nairobi was then practically a swamp, and from the nature of the surrounding country I should never have imagined that it would be chosen as the site for the future capital of British East Africa. Indeed, I still think that by going a little farther westward a situation far more suitable in every way would have been found. The town of Nairobi takes its name from a river of the same name which rises in the neighbouring hills, the river forming the boundary-line between the Masai and Kikuyu countries, and the plain where the town now stands was at this time an absolutely uninhabited district, without a village of any kind. We outspanned for the night on the edge of the swamp which borders the present town. Being thoroughly tired out with the day’s work, I was resting in my tent, when about six o’clock in the afternoon I heard my boys calling me with one of the usual stories about lions being about. Finding that they seemed more excited than usual, I turned out to see if there really was any cause for alarm, and saw two lions stalking the donkeys in the gathering dusk. They came quite close up to the camp, and I then saw that one was a lioness, so, having heard that if the female were shot the male would clear off, while if the male were shot the female became savage, and would probably attack, I fired at the female and thought I hit her, though, owing to the bad light and the fact that my gun—a Martini-Metford—was a very poor one, and could not be relied on to shoot straight, I could not be certain. The animals turned and plunged into the swamp, but though we saw signs of blood and tracked them for some distance, we had to give up on account of the gathering darkness, and the next morning we could find no signs of them.