When I declined Wagombi’s offer to make war on the tribe that had attacked us, I told him that my idea was to get on friendly terms with the natives without any shooting or anything of that sort, and after I had explained this to him he was rather disappointed with me, and said, “Why all this humbug? The country is yours. What’s the use of humbugging about like a woman?” We had a lot of talk about it, and after a time he gave in and seemed to be convinced, remarking that I was a white man and must know better than he what was the best thing to do.
Olomondo, the hunter chief of the Wanderobo, was still staying at Wagombi’s, but he and his people were getting restless, and wanted to get back to their families. He was anxious that I should accompany him, promising me plenty of ivory and hunting if I would go with him; so, thinking the opportunity of making friends with his tribe, and at the same time securing more ivory, was too good to be lost, I decided to defer my return to headquarters until after I had paid him my promised visit. I had left some good men in charge at Karuri’s, who would be still buying food in my absence, and as I had taken a good supply into the Government stations before I left, I had no fear that they would be running short. I also took into consideration the fact that I was making more money by ivory trading, and this partly influenced me in deciding to accompany Olomondo. In addition to all these reasons I had a strong desire to get more into the wilds and out amongst the game. I was not feeling too well, as the strain of the past few months was beginning to tell on me, and I felt that the change from the thickly-populated district to the practically uninhabited country which was the hunting-ground of the Wanderobo would be very welcome.
We had to take a lot of food with us, and every man had to carry a load, as no flour was to be bought from the Wanderobo, who live entirely upon flesh. I also got a few of Wagombi’s people to carry some flour and other things that we should require, but they were to return home when we had decided upon the site for our headquarter camp, as we should make a food station there. Of course, I could have shot plenty of game, but the Kikuyu would not eat it, being in most cases vegetarians.
Having got everything ready for the expedition and said a lot of farewells—Wagombi being very sorry that I was leaving his part of the country—we started off. The first part of our journey led through forest country, and at the end of the first day’s march all signs of human habitation had disappeared, and we camped that night at the edge of the forest, while before us stretched a beautiful park-like country, open plain with patches of forest here and there, which struck me as an ideal district for farming. The change from the thickly populated Kikuyu country and the absence of native villages was most refreshing, and I slept very comfortably that night, with the thought of the prospect before us, and awoke to a cool, fresh morning and a beautiful sunrise. Going out of my tent, I revelled in the beauty of the scene spread out before me, and once more experienced the exhilarating feeling of gipsy-like freedom, the liberty to roam where I would at will, hunting the wild game which could be seen in plenty from the door of my tent.
Watering the rich pasture-lands of the plain were numerous cool streams coming down from the mountains, and flowing through the valley to form the Guasa Nyero. All around were the virgin forests, while out on the open plain were many most inviting spots for camping. The whole country was free for us to go wherever we wished, without any fear of interference. One felt that one was in a different world, and wondered how any one who had experienced this sense of freedom from the trammels of civilization could ever wish to go back to the crowded cities, or be cooped up within the four walls of a house. At that moment of exhilaration I certainly did not envy the civilized citizen at home.
After breakfast we set out again on the march, and continued until the heat of the sun began to be oppressive, when we rested for lunch, continuing our journey afterwards through further stretches of most beautiful scenery. Three days’ march from Wagombi’s we came to the village of the Wanderobo, who had been warned of our coming by messengers sent on ahead of the caravan. They gave us a friendly welcome, but it was evident that they were a very timid people, and I was convinced that, had Olomondo not been with me, I should never have come in contact with them, as they would certainly have kept out of my way entirely. They seemed a bit scared at seeing so many of my followers, but the chief assured them that there was no cause for alarm. Their kraal was a very primitive affair, being simply a lean-to shed, without the slightest attempt at privacy—all the married men and their wives occupying one portion, and the young men and girls another—while I found them the laziest and dirtiest people I had ever met. They will not go out hunting until they are absolutely starving, and when they have killed some big animal, they simply gorge themselves on it, sitting round it, and never leave the spot until every scrap of the meat has been devoured. I was to have an early example of this practice. I had brought with me ten big bullocks, and, as these people had a fair amount of ivory, they were able to buy the whole lot. To my surprise, no sooner had they got the bullocks into their possession than they killed the whole ten at once, and fires having been lighted, a circle of savages gathered round each bullock, and, as it cooked, cut off huge strips of the flesh and ate them, not moving away until each bullock had been absolutely disposed of. A more disgusting spectacle I never witnessed. They live entirely on meat, but have a drink which they make from the wild honey. A remarkable thing in connexion with this honey is that they are often shown where to find it by following a bird, which they call the honey bird. One day, when out hunting, I noticed a small bird of a brownish colour, not much larger than a sparrow, which was twittering on a bush close at hand. Presently it flew towards me, twittering overhead, and afterwards alighted on a tree, still twittering, and the Wanderobo began to talk to it. I had heard of the honey bird before, but this was the first time that I had seen one, and I was very much interested. The natives continued to talk to it, and when it began to fly again, they followed it as it went twittering along, keeping just a little in advance of us, for perhaps a couple of miles, until we came to a hollow tree, where it stopped, and the Wanderobo, saying that we should find some honey there, began chopping the tree away until they found a considerable store of wild honey. After taking the honey out, they gave a certain quantity to the bird—or rather, left some in the tree for it, as they said that if they did not do that, the bird would, on another occasion, lead them on to a dangerous animal or a big snake. Of course this was simply a piece of native superstition, which I satisfactorily proved to have no truth in it, as I took the trouble to test it one day when I had followed the honey bird, by taking every bit of the honey to which it led me, without leaving any for the bird. After flying round two or three times, it went twittering on again for another two or three miles, and when it finally stopped, fluttering round a tree as before, I found that it had simply led me to another store of honey; so I disposed of one native belief.
The Wanderobo women were fairly well dressed—in skins—but the men wore hardly any clothing at all. When necessity compels them to move they are fairly good hunters, and will creep up to within ten yards of an elephant, to spear it. The spear is fashioned something after the manner of a harpoon, the head being fixed to the shaft in such a way that, on striking the elephant, it becomes detached, and remains in the wound, while the shaft falls to the ground. It would not, of course, be sufficient to kill an elephant but for the fact that it is poisoned; and even then the elephant will often travel a considerable distance before succumbing to the poison. Singularly enough, the poison used appears only to affect the part immediately in the neighbourhood of the wound, and when this has been cut out, the natives eat the remainder of the flesh with perfect safety. Of course, as I mentioned before, the Wanderobo do not get the benefit of all the elephants they wound fatally, as many of the wounded animals manage to wander too far away into the forest to be tracked before they die, and any one finding them gets the benefit of the ivory.
A DEAD RHINO
The Wanderobo are very skilful with the bow and arrow, and can easily send an arrow right through a buck at fifty yards’ range, while their method of hunting these animals is distinctly novel. Taking a donkey, they fix a pair of horns to its head, and having carefully marked it with charcoal, to make it look as much like an ordinary buck as possible, they then crawl up on the lee side of it until they get close up to the game, which falls to an easy shot. The donkey seems to know the business, and is a very clever decoy.