A spear struck another horsekeeper on the hip, and the soft iron point turned up against the bone in a curve like a fish-hook.
A sharp fire dispersed the enemy, who retired to a distance, yelling and blowing their whistles. The wounded horsekeeper could manage to walk forward.
There is a peculiar bird in the forests of Unyoro which utters a shrill cry, with these notes.
The natives imitate this cry with their whistles of antelope's horn. I had noticed that previous to an attack from an ambuscade, we had always heard the call of this bird.
My Baris declared that the bird warned us of the danger, and cried, "Co-co-me! Co-co-me!" which in their language means, "Look out! look out!"
My soldiers said that the birds exclaimed, "Shat-mo-koor! Shat-mo-koor!" which is the order, "Make ready;" They accordingly always brought their rifles on full cock when they heard the signal.
There was something puzzling this day respecting the distance. According to my calculation, we should leave reached Koki. Still we marched on through high forest and the interminable grass. My wife was dreadfully fatigued. The constant marching in wet boots, which became filled with sand when crossing the small streams and wading through muddy hollows, had made her terribly foot-sore. She walked on with pain and difficulty. I was sure that we had passed the village of Koki, which was surrounded by much open ground and cultivation; and I now felt certain that the broad road, which had been constructed to mislead us, had taken us by the rear of Koki, which we had thus over-shot.
We were marching forward in perfect silence, when I heard a bird cry
"Co-co-me! Co-co-me"!
That instant the spears came among us, and the rifles replied as quick as lightning!
The bugle of the advance-guard sounded "halt". I never liked to hear that order, as something must have gone wrong.