When Karuri heard that we were coming he sent men out to meet us, and our return was the signal for great rejoicings. My mule came in for a special share of attention, and all sorts of funny questions were asked about it, such as whether it ate people—the general impression being that it was some sort of a lion—indeed, all the natives came in to see it, and a report was spread about the country that I went riding about on a big lion. I had brought Karuri a kettle, and a cup and saucer for making tea, of which he was very fond, and he was delighted with them, and, of course, I had also brought presents for the other chiefs.
During the next week or so I spent the time preparing for my trip north. All the natives were now anxious to go with me, but I decided to pick only about one hundred of the best men, and as I had by this time about thirty rifles, I dressed the men to whom they were entrusted in khaki suits, which I had bought on my last visit to Nairobi, and of which the wearers were very proud. I had also brought a Union Jack back with me, which I took at the head of my caravan on all my later expeditions. The Kikuyu warriors carried their usual weapons, and the trade goods were divided among one hundred porters, whom I loaded lightly so that we could move quickly if the occasion required.
The men looked very smart in their new khaki uniforms, and with the fifty or so Kikuyu warriors, armed with swords, spears, and shields, and the long line of porters and camp-followers, it was quite an imposing expedition which set out from Karuri’s village one morning. The warriors, armed with native weapons, acted as an advance guard, with myself next, riding the mule; immediately behind were ten soldiers, as my special bodyguard, and following these were the porters, with more soldiers distributed among them. A little farther to the rear were the camp-followers, followed by the cattle, then ten more soldiers, and behind all, a rearguard of fifty Kikuyu warriors.
With orders to keep close together the safari marched out in single file, the Union Jack flying at the head, while Karuri, with the rest of the natives who remained behind, gave us a great send off, though the old witch doctor shook his head as if he still had misgivings as to the success of the enterprise.
The first day we camped at my old food station, where we had defeated the Masai raiders, at the top of the mountain, and resuming the march the next morning, we went through the Chinga country. The natives kept out of the way, though we could see groups of them standing on the hills watching us, and though we shouted to them that we were friends, they only replied with threats, saying that they did not want the white man in their country. All the villages were deserted, and we quite failed to get into touch with the people at all, until we saw some of the old men sitting on a hill-side, to whom I sent one of my men with a present of cloth. He went unarmed and waving a bunch of grass as a sign of peace, and they allowed him to approach them. After he had given each of them a present of cloth, two of the old men accompanied him back to my camp, and when the others saw that they were treated as friends they also came in. I amused them by showing them a looking-glass and several other things that they had never seen before, and explained to them that my object in coming into the country was to buy food. I told them that my idea was to make peace among all the natives, as complaints were coming in to me every day of raids and murders. It was very difficult to understand from their stories whether the things complained of had happened fifty years before or only the previous day, so I advised them to let all those matters drop and start again with a clean slate from now, and I told them that I would do my best to settle any differences that arose in the future. At the same time, I impressed upon them that they must also help me towards this end, and not go raiding and killing each other, telling them that it was only savages that settle their quarrels in that way. To speak of them as not being savages flattered their vanity, and a remarkable thing I frequently noticed was that as soon as a native became friends with me, or with my followers, he immediately called all the rest of the natives savages. It was very laughable in some instances. I have had one of my own men come to tell me that some washenzi (savages) wanted to see me, and on going out to see who they were I would perhaps find that the so-called savages were the man’s own father and other relatives.
I saw that what I had said about being friendly had impressed them, and in the meantime my followers had got hold of them and were explaining what my policy had done in their own country, so that they could see that I was to be trusted, and consequently made friends with me. After dusk they went home, and it was evident that they had given a good report of me, as the next day the two principal chiefs of the district, Bartier and Henga, came to see me, with about fifty followers. They were both young men and very intelligent for savages, dressed in skins, but wearing no special finery. I gave them a red blanket and a fez each—which was my usual present to chiefs—and they immediately put them on, wearing the blanket over one shoulder like a cloak, the ends being tied on the other shoulder, so that only one side of the body was covered. The effect, however, was rather picturesque, something like the old Roman toga. They were very pleased with their new garb, but it had the result of getting them into trouble at times with the other natives, who looked upon it as a badge of their friendship with the white man.
They stayed in the camp nearly all day, and were very friendly, explaining the features of the country we were going through, and warning me against the people of the district of Tato, and their chief Karkerrie, of whom they gave a very bad account. I asked them if any white men had been there before, and they said no, though they had heard of white men going through the country a very long time ago, but not that part of it.
They brought me some food and told me that they had some ivory, and they brought me the measurements of several tusks, which they promised to bring in the next day; but although we waited, expecting the ivory, it did not come. They were all still very friendly, however, and so I suggested holding a Pigasangi, but as this was more of a national than a local affair, they said that it could not be done unless they first talked it over with their other people, so I told them that we might be able to arrange for the ceremony on my homeward journey, and also asked them to have the ivory ready so that I could buy it then.
That day we had a visit from the chief rainmaker of the Kikuyu country, a tall, fine-looking man, who lived some distance from there, but seemed to have a roving commission and to be able to travel through any part of the country without being molested, all the natives being afraid of him, as they believed that he could bring the rain or stop its coming at will. I very well remember his stalking in, because he was wearing a red blanket and fez which I had given him. On this occasion he arrived, like the villain of the play, just as things were going well, and at one swoop destroyed all my castles in the air by telling the people that it would do them no good to make friends with the white man, as it would stop the rain and bring various other misfortunes upon them. I took no notice, but the natives evidently took him seriously and I had a lot of trouble with him later on.
Striking camp early the next morning, we trekked farther north towards Mount Kenia, where the big chief Wagombi lived. The country continued practically the same, thickly populated and well cultivated, while here and there we could see the sheep and cattle grazing quietly and the people working in their shambas (gardens). It was hard to believe that I was in the midst of savages, and that any minute they might be up and cutting one another’s throats and my own too; the scene was so peaceful that you could have almost imagined yourself amidst the quiet surroundings of an English landscape.