Back again in the Kikuyu country—Kalyera raid—Effect of a mule on the native nerve—Does it eat men?—Prepare for a new expedition—Dress my men in khaki, and march under the Union Jack—A hostile medicine man—Around Mount Kenia—Native drinks—Treacherous native attack on my camp—Lucky capture of the hostile chief saves the camp—Pursuit after stolen cattle—Another attack on my camp—Change of attitude of natives on account of rain—Peace again—Bury my ivory—The forest slopes of Mount Kenia—Wagombi’s—A powerful chief—Precautions—Establish myself and erect a fort

The return journey was accomplished with considerable difficulty. On arriving at my old camp at Menzini, where the path branched off to the Kalyera country, an attack was made on the men herding the cattle, with the result that several were killed and some of the cattle driven off. I was lying down in my tent when the news was brought to me, so turning out at once, I gave orders for a mule—which I had bought at Nairobi and given into the charge of one of my men, with orders to be always ready to saddle up at a moment’s notice—to be brought, and mounting quickly, I set off in pursuit of the cattle. The attack had been made while they were being taken down to drink at the river, and their tracks were plainly visible, though the cattle were nowhere in sight. Galloping forward, I caught sight of them just as they were about to enter the bamboo forest, with about a hundred Kalyera driving them on. As I fired my revolver, and came galloping towards them on the mule—which was a kind of animal that they had never seen before—they bolted in a fright. My men had been following me up in the rear, and we drove the cattle back to the camp, deeming it unwise to attempt to follow the Kalyera up through the bamboo forest. After this we reached headquarters at Karuri’s without further incident.

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.

We had halted to give the men a rest, and I was having some lunch under the shade of a tree—my practice being to start the day with only a cup of coffee in the early morning, making my lunch about midday my first meal—when two or three natives were brought in, who told me that they had been sent by a big chief, who was also a very powerful witch doctor, named Muga-wa-diga,^[11] who begged me to come and camp in his village. Of course I was only too glad to meet another friendly chief, and asked them to take me to his village, where we arrived quite early in the afternoon.

The chief was an old man, very active for his years, and far more intelligent than the majority of the natives I had met so far. His appearance marked him out as a typical witch doctor, and I had never before seen any chief dressed as he was. His costume was composed chiefly of the skins of wild cats, and he wore a hat made of the skin of the colobus monkey; round his ankles were the usual iron rattles, while two small boys who were with him carried calabashes containing various medicines. He had evidently started off in something of a hurry to meet me on the road, and came up to me without any hesitation, shaking hands in a dignified sort of way, as if the meeting with a white man was an everyday occurrence. After we had exchanged greetings, he conducted me to a suitable place to camp near the village, and also introduced me to his wives and children, which I thought rather extraordinary for a native meeting a white man for the first time. I could see that he was very anxious to make friends with me, and he got his people to assist mine in building the camp, at the same time telling us to be very careful when leaving the village to collect wood or bring in water, as some of the natives were not to be trusted, and he felt himself responsible that no one should get killed while staying at his place.

Of course I was always on my guard, and ordered my men never to go far from the camp without taking some rifles with them, especially as I found that my friend the chief rain-maker had been there before me, spreading rumours of what would happen if they had any dealings with me. But Muga-wa-diga was evidently not on good terms with the rain-maker, being jealous of his power, and this accounted for his being so willing to be friendly towards me.

Finding it a good camp, and being able to obtain plenty of food, I decided to stay there for some days, and in the meantime to try to gather more information about the country and people farther on, while at the same time getting to know more of the people among whom we were camped.

The chief came to my camp nearly every day, and I got a lot of useful information from him. One day he brought his medicines with him, and explained all about them, which gave me a good insight into the art of working magic. Medicine, as we understand it, is not the kind of medicine used by the witch doctor of East Africa, who relies more upon incantations than upon the potency of any drugs to doctor the complaints of those who seek his aid, the ailments he is expected to cure being more of a mental than a physical nature, as, when a native complains that some one has given him poisoned medicine, he really means that some one has put some spell on him to cause something to happen to him. Such is the superstitious nature of the savage that, if one has been told that he is to die at the end of three days, he will actually accept the statement as literally true, and it would have such an effect upon him that, unless the witch doctor could convince him that he had made some medicine powerful enough to counteract the influence of the spell cast over him, he would certainly die at the time stated.

The witch doctor also professed to be able to say what was going to happen to any one who sought the information from him, the mode of procedure in this case being to spread a leopard skin on the ground, and turn out upon it the contents of a calabash containing a lot of stones, lion-claws, arrow-heads, &c. These were counted out in sections—somewhat after the style of the game children play with plum-stones in England—and from the balance remaining after the full number of even sections had been completed he read the signs. An arrow-head perhaps foretold that the inquirer would be killed with an arrow, a lion’s claw that he would be killed by a lion, and so on. They had also medicines for the treatment of physical ailments, and antidotes for poisons.

During my visit to Mombasa I had bought a medicine-chest, which I always carried with me, so I gave the chief a taste of the different tabloids, &c. I found that he was very fond of pepper and salt, and it was surprising to see him take a handful of pepper and eat it up without winking.

The natives were intensely interested in everything I possessed, and were greatly mystified by the trick of drawing the heat from the sun, by means of a lens from my field-glasses focused on their hands, and it was remarkable how some of the warriors would stand the pain without making a sign, letting the flesh burn without appearing to notice it.

When I approached the chief on the question of a Pigasangi, he promised to talk the matter over with his people, and suggested that we might also arrange for the ceremony of blood brotherhood.

Whilst staying here I sent a present to Karkerrie, the chief of Tato, and also one to Wagombi. We were a good day’s march, in different directions, from each of these chiefs, and I told my messengers to say that I was coming into their country on a peaceful mission. Muga-wa-diga said that he would accompany me to Tato, where, he told me, there was a lot of ivory; so I decided to go to Tato first, and then go round to Wagombi’s country.

While at Muga-wa-diga’s I made the acquaintance of a young chief named Katuni, or the Lion, who was by far the tallest Kikuyu I had ever seen—being considerably over six feet in height—and got quite friendly with him, and he brought me, among other things, a lot of honey. All the Kikuyu keep bees, and you can see the hives hanging on the trees, sometimes five or six on a tree, all over the country. The hive is made out of a log of wood, hollowed out and shaped like a barrel, and the ends are headed up just as a barrel would be. They are about five feet long by eighteen inches in diameter. The natives ferment the honey to make a drink tasting very much like sharp cider, which they call njohi, and on which they manage to get very drunk, as it is highly intoxicating. It is generally made in very large quantities when the honey is gathered, and the headman of the village sends out an invitation to all the old men of the district to come in and have a big drinking bout, which generally ends in a drunken orgie, when they all start quarrelling and fighting with each other. The drink is kept in big calabashes, and the headman first pours out a hornful, which he spills on the ground, at the same time saying “Ngai,” meaning “To God”- -a ceremony reminding one of the ancient libations to the gods. This function over, the headman first drinks himself, to prove to his guests that there is no poison in the brew, and then the general drinking starts. A peculiar and somewhat unpleasant habit of theirs is to spit on their chests after drinking, but the reason for the practice no one could tell me.

I found a similar kind of drink to njohi among the Abyssinians, who call it tej, and the Kikuyu also have another drink, not quite so intoxicating as the njohi, and made from sugar-cane instead of honey.

By this time the messengers whom I had sent to Karkerrie with presents had returned, so we packed up and moved on towards Tato, Katuni deciding to accompany me, as well as Muga-wa-diga. The country continued thickly inhabited, and I noticed that the people seemed to own more stock than elsewhere. They did not take much notice of us, except on one occasion, when about half a dozen old men, who had been drinking njohi, greeted us, as we came round the shoulder of a hill, with a shower of arrows.

Arriving at last at Karkerrie’s village, we were met there by the chief himself and some of the elders of the tribe. The country had changed somewhat as we neared Tato, being less mountainous, and not so thickly cultivated, but the people owned enormous herds of cattle, sheep, and goats. They seemed more like the Masai than the Kikuyu, and undoubtedly have a good deal of Masai blood in their veins. From the reports I had heard as to their being such a bad lot, I was quite prepared for them to try to prevent my entering their country, but, possibly because they had heard a lot about me, and also on account of my having the medicine man Muga-wa-diga and the chief Katuni with me, they received me in a friendly way; so, finding a good place near the chief’s village, I pitched my camp.

I had brought about fifteen head of cattle with me, and, of course, had a lot of trade goods, so I opened up negotiations with the chief for some ivory. The value of cattle varies right through Africa, depending on the number of sheep in the country. Among the Kikuyu a cow is reckoned to be worth twenty sheep, whilst among the Caramoja and Sambura tribes—whom I visited later—it goes up as high as sixty sheep. I exchanged the cattle at the rate of twenty sheep for each, and when the natives came in with the ivory, I would give, say, the value of twenty sheep for a tusk measuring two hands. Ten rings of iron wire, or so many hands of cloth, equalled a sheep; so that if I bought ivory to the value of twenty sheep, I would give perhaps five sheep only and the rest in trade goods.

The iron wire used in these transactions was about the thickness of an ordinary telegraph wire, while the rings, ten of which were the value of a sheep, would be about nine inches in diameter, ten of them equivalent in value to about a shilling of our money. The standard value of a hand of ivory, in Karkerrie’s country, was thus ten sheep, or a hundred rings of iron wire, or sixty hands of cloth. In Wagombi’s country the prices were about half these, so that there a tusk weighing from twenty-five to thirty pounds could be bought for about a sovereign and, even allowing for the cost of transport, &c., at an average price of about nine shillings per pound there was a fairly good profit to be made on the deal. In the Wanderobo country, where most of the ivory was in the form of the heavier tusks of the bull elephant—that at Karkerrie’s and Wagombi’s being mostly from the females—I usually gave a bullock for a tusk weighing from eighty to ninety pounds.

A few details of the native system of measurement may be of interest. The hand, which is their standard of lineal measure, varies with the commodity to which it is applied, but in no case is it the same as our hand of four inches. In selling ivory the hand is the length of the forearm from the elbow, with the fist doubled. In measuring ivory a liberal allowance is made for the hollow portion at the root of the tusk,^[12] and also for the point, neither of which are reckoned in the length. In buying or selling cloth the hand is practically the same as our yard, being measured from the centre of the chin to the tip of the fingers, with the arm stretched out.

Things were progressing very favourably, and there was any amount of ivory to be had, and I was buying it at the rate of two or three tusks a day, and at eight to ten shillings a pound each tusk would be worth from £10 to £15. I was at first at a loss to account for so much ivory being in the country, as the natives there do not hunt the elephant, but I found that the Wanderobo tribe, who live on the outskirts of the country, are great hunters; in fact, they live entirely by hunting; and the elephants wounded by them, and getting away, seek cover in the forest, where many of them die of their wounds, the wounds being made by poisoned weapons. The Kikuyu, going into the forest to find wild honey, find the ivory, and as no trader had been to the country to buy it before, this accounted for the quantity to be had on my first visit. These facts may also account for the remarkable stories one comes across sometimes of “elephant cemeteries.”^[13] Certainly, in a long and varied experience of elephant-hunting in various parts of Africa I have never come across anything but the slaughter caused by the hand of man which could account for these so-called cemeteries, nor have any of the elephant-hunters I have met—and I know all the chief ones—been able to confirm the “cemetery” yarn.

One day Karkerrie and his elders came across to see me, being curious to know all about the white man and his various possessions. Among other things in my outfit, I had brought with me a musical clock, which, instead of striking the hour, played a tune, and this I had in my tent. After I had been talking to the chief for some time, the hour came round and the clock struck up a lively tune. They could not understand this, and thought there must be magic about it, so I told them that I could make it speak whenever I wished, and, unnoticed, moved the lever. When the hands came round to the hour, I said, “Now I will make it play a tune.” It so happened that rain had been expected, and as the clock was playing a few drops came. Looking up into the sky, they saw the rain, and at once turned to me and asked if the clock could make rain, so I said, “Certainly, it makes rain all right.” They said that it must be a great thing if it could make rain, and seeing that these things seemed to amuse them, I showed them a few sleight-of-hand tricks—never dreaming that they took what I said seriously.

The next day Karkerrie turned up, and said that rain was absolutely necessary, and I must make some for them. I said that the best thing they could do was to bring in plenty of ivory, and go on trading, and the rain would come of itself, as it was not possible for anybody—white or black—to make it rain. They kept bothering me every day, however, to make it rain, and I kept putting them off with the excuse that the rain was coming all right. But, unfortunately, it did not come, and from believing that I could make rain they turned to thinking that I was keeping it away with the clock, and things began to look threatening. The natives would not bring in any more ivory, and I heard rumours that the warriors were coming to attack my camp. In the meantime, unknown to me, there was a plot on foot to murder me, in which, as I found out afterwards, one of my own men was mixed up. It afterwards appeared that he was a native of the very district in which we now were, but had been taken away in some raid to where I had first met with him.

None of the natives came near me, but I knew by the singing, and shouting, and feasting, that something unusual was in the wind, and took the precaution of having every man on guard, and slept myself fully dressed, with my rifle handy, so as to be ready for any emergency. One pitch-dark night about eight or nine o’clock, a day or two after I had noticed the change of attitude on the part of the natives, the crisis came. There had been an ominous stillness around the camp for some time, when suddenly the air was rent by a wild uproar, and we heard the war-cry of the tribe spreading from village to village, mingled with the shrieking of women and children. Over all the din the hideous howl of the hyenas could be distinguished. These animals seem to realize when there is a feast of human flesh in store for them, and at the sound of the native war-cry, which warns them of a fight being at hand, they are always on the alert. The natives never bury their dead, but leave them for the hyenas to eat.

All doubts as to the object of this demonstration were removed by the cries of “Kill the white man!” which could be heard above the other sounds resounding in the stillness of the night, and it may be imagined that my feelings were somewhat mixed—planted there out in the wilds as I was, with a crowd of yelling savages anxious to cut my throat swarming round my camp. The darkness added a good deal to the natural feeling of uneasiness, and I certainly did not feel very sanguine as to the outcome of this hostile demonstration; but all that I could do was to see that a strict watch was being kept, and make the best preparations I could to keep the enemy out if they should attack the camp. It was quite useless to think of packing up and clearing out, as we should have been pretty certain to have lost our way in the darkness, and have run a greater risk of being killed in the morning. Further, to have shown the white feather in this way now would have meant abandoning my project of going up into the country, and I was by no means disposed to give up my project. So I set to work as well as I could to build a kind of fort, using the boxes of trade goods, and anything else I could get, to make barricades. Having got all my people inside the enclosure, I warned them not to move out of it on any consideration, telling them not to be afraid, as we should come out of it all right. All the spare ammunition was placed ready to hand, and we were prepared for the attack when it should come.

In the meantime, the uproar among the natives had died down and given place to an almost oppressive stillness, only broken now and then by a faint rustling, which told us that the savages were moving about just outside the fort, and, although we could not see them, we instinctively felt that we were being surrounded. The sensation of knowing that the enemy were creeping up all round us was a good deal more trying to the nerves than all the previous noise and shouting had been, and it was difficult to remain inactive as the time dragged on and no move was made against us. I kept the men at work, strengthening the fort, and while they were thus engaged word was brought to me that the chief, Karkerrie, had been seen, fully armed, going to join a body of the natives who were collected some distance away. Acting on the spur of the moment, I called a couple of men, and made my way quietly out of the fort, with the object of intercepting him, if possible. I was just in time to waylay him before he moved off, and jumping on him before he was aware of my presence, I made him a prisoner, and carried him back to the fort. This was a piece of rare good-fortune, and my spirits rose in consequence. Waiting for the attack, however, was weary, monotonous work, so I went round to each man separately, to give him a word of encouragement, and especially to pass away the time. It was then that I found that one of my men was missing from his post, and it was soon evident that he had deserted. In the morning this man had been on guard over my tent, and I had then noticed that his bearing was careless, and had taken him to task for his lax appearance. I had trained all my men to do things in a soldierly manner, and the leisurely way in which he was moving about had attracted my attention. On my speaking to him, and telling him to walk about properly, and not to go slouching along as he was then doing, he smiled in a way that annoyed me, so I took his rifle away from him, telling him that he would have to carry a load, as he was not fit for a soldier. It was the memory of this incident that made me think of the fellow, and miss him when I was going the round of the sentries, and though I made inquiries, no one seemed to know where he was. I thought, at the moment, that he had deserted on account of my taking his rifle from him, and gave no more thought to the matter.

The night dragged on, without any attack being made, and about four or five o’clock in the morning we could tell, by the different noises heard, and the sound of whispering that frequently reached us, that we were surrounded by Karkerrie’s people, who were only waiting for the first peep of dawn to blot us all out. It was evident that the critical moment was at hand, and that it was time for me to act in some way; so I spoke to Karkerrie, telling him that we were surrounded by his people, and that immediately they attacked us, or even fired into the camp, he would be the first man to die. To further convince him that I was thoroughly in earnest, I placed my revolver to his head, and told him that at the first sign of an attack I should fire. The chief had a pretty good regard for his own skin, and, being quite satisfied that I should carry out my threat, he at once shouted to his followers, and told them of the position he was in. Fortunately, his words, to all appearance, had the desired effect, though the Kikuyu were at first considerably surprised to find that their chief was inside the fort, and were, no doubt, badly at a loss to account for his presence there. He had, however, evidently sufficient power over them for his orders to be respected, and they gradually drew off, and things quieted down once again. When daylight came, we could tell by the spoor on the ground, and the way everything had been trodden down, that the fort must have been surrounded by thousands of natives during the night.

Karkerrie having assured me that no further attack should be made, and repeated his professions of friendship, I set him at liberty, and things resumed their normal aspect. To see the natives going about as usual made it difficult to realize that I and my people had been so nearly wiped out. Nevertheless, I did not trust the chief, and had spies secretly watching his movements, and ready to warn me of the slightest sign of treachery. This same Karkerrie, soon after the country was taken over by the Government, finding that the new Administration were apparently unable to cope with the raiding of Wagombi and some of the other chiefs, took advantage of the apparent slackness of the Administration to attack a safari belonging to some Indian traders, and looted their goods. But in this instance he had gone a little too far, and an expedition was sent up to capture him, and he was deported to Kismayu, a hot, unhealthy spot on the coast. He did not long survive the effects of the climate, and the change in position in life from a powerful autocratic chief to a closely guarded prisoner. There is now a fort and Government station at his old place at Nyeri, where I had first come across him.

Although the clock had undoubtedly played a great part in provoking the natives to attack me, yet it must be remembered, in the first place, that they were very much averse to any white man coming into their country; and, further, being boundary natives—that is, natives living on the boundary of the country—they were naturally much more warlike than the tribes farther in the interior. They were used to fighting practically every day of their lives, and accustomed to resent the coming of any strangers into their country. The manner of my coming among them, so quietly, with the chief Katuni, and Muga-wa-diga, the witch doctor, had made them, for the moment, overlook their natural antipathy to a stranger, and they hardly knew how to attack me. They probably regretted having allowed me to come into the country so quietly, and the incident of the clock gave them the excuse for which they were looking to vent their natural enmity towards the stranger on me. This uprising had also happened before I had been able to get thoroughly acquainted with them, and consequently I had acquired no influence over them. I found that they had actually arranged a plot to kill me, which was to have been started by the man who had deserted from my camp. How it was to have been carried out I never learned, but it is most probable that he was to shoot me, and the fact of my having taken his rifle away upset all their plans. Certainly they had sufficient inducement to wish to get me out of the way, as many of them, no doubt, had cast covetous eyes on the quantity of trade goods and cattle I had with me. They would not have hesitated to kill me for such a store of loot, as they were accustomed to kill Arab traders passing through the country. I had not omitted to show them everything I had for trade, as an inducement to them to bring in the ivory. They naturally all took a great fancy to my possessions, but they had not all got ivory to trade for them, and an attack would have given a splendid excuse to loot the whole outfit.

I pitched my camp again as usual, and went about as if nothing had happened, and the natives came to trade, and mixed with my people as before; but I was never off my guard, and always carried my revolver with me wherever I went.

Going on with my trading, I sent two or three cows out in different directions to be exchanged for sheep. It may have been a foolish thing to do, but I let the cows go out of my camp without sending any of my own men with them. I had done the same thing before, and the sheep had always been brought in, and it never occurred to me that it might not be so again; but on this occasion it happened otherwise: the sheep did not come in, and the natives refused to return the cattle. I was rather at a loss how to act, I had such a lot of ivory in the camp. I did not know whether it would be best to leave the camp and go after the cattle, or what to do. Whatever I did, however, must be done quickly, so I decided to leave a few men in camp—about ten askari and fifty Kikuyu—and go after the cattle. The most remarkable thing about the affair was that the cattle had been taken to exchange for sheep in charge of Karkerrie’s own men, and his son, and some of the men who went with him, had come back wounded, saying that they had lost the cattle. It was therefore now for me to find out what had really happened, and to recover the cattle.

The wounded men were not fit to go out to show me the place where the fight had taken place, but another of Karkerrie’s men offered to come with me and do so, so I saddled up my mule, and started off ahead of the main body of my men to the scene of the fight. On arriving there I found the place absolutely deserted, but, standing on a hill some little distance away, shouting and defying me, was a crowd of natives, who, however, did not attempt to come any nearer. As my own temper by this time was pretty well worked up, I pushed on till I got pretty close to them. They did not shift, so I slackened my pace to allow my own men to come up, and then advanced together to within about one hundred paces of them. Seeing, from their attitude and gestures, that they were preparing for a rush down on us, we fired a volley into them; several were killed, and a good many others must have been wounded. This apparently satisfied them, and they did not attempt to put up a fight, but ran away, shouting for their friends to help them to kill us. Realizing that it was useless to try to get the cows back from these people, and feeling rather uneasy about my own camp, I thought it advisable to return and see what was going on there; so I hurried back, and on nearing the camp I heard a lot of shouting and row going on. Being on my mule, I was able to push on quicker, and got ahead of the rest to see what was the matter, my men following as fast as they could. At the same time, I kept a sharp look out as I went on either side, in case there might be an ambush, and at intervals I fired my revolver into the bushes. On getting in sight of the camp, I found it was besieged by a crowd of howling savages, who, I soon discovered, were not Karkerrie’s men, but some natives from another tribe. Seeing me approach, and hearing my shout to encourage my men, they ceased the attack, and cleared off promptly into the bush. I found that two or three of my men had been slightly wounded by arrows, but none had been killed; while the other side had suffered pretty severely, quite a number of them having been killed. It appeared that these natives had heard of my absence, and thought it would be a good opportunity to attack the camp and get some loot. They had come upon it in a solid mass, and my men had only just managed to keep them at bay till we came up; in fact, the camp was practically surrounded when I got there, and it was impossible for the defenders to have held out much longer. Fortunately, I returned in time to prevent the enemy entering the camp, or all would have been lost.

The unfriendly natives having made themselves scarce, we settled down into camp again, and once more things began to go along in the old routine, as if we had had no unusual happenings.

That day the long-expected rain came, and with it a remarkable change in the manner of the people towards me. The day after they came in with lots of ivory and brought me presents of sheep and goats, telling me that I was a very great man, as I could fight and also make rain. They firmly believed that I was responsible for the coming of the rain, and asked me to live there altogether, offering to build a house for me and do anything I wished if I would only stay among them. Of course, I told them that I could not stay with them, and soon after brought my visit to Karkerrie to a close.

Having a lot of ivory, which I did not want to carry about the country with me, I secretly buried it at the edge of the forest, my intention being to go on to Wagombi, the big chief living at the foot of Mount Kenia. Before I left all the natives were on the best of terms with me, and said that they were willing to Pigasangi, while the chief Karkerrie expressed his willingness to make blood brotherhood with me. Katuni and Muga-wa-diga had returned to their villages some time previous to my departure from Karkerrie’s, and I learned afterwards that news of the happenings at Tato had reached my headquarters and that we had all been reported as killed.

I had heard a lot of talk about Wagombi, and was very anxious to visit him and, if possible, make friends with him, as my aim was to get all that country under control and put a stop to the fighting and bloodshed, so that it would be safe for caravans to pass through it and trade. The natives were beginning to see that I had their interests at heart and were beginning to like me. All the way along I had made friends, and I had hopes that, by means of the Pigasangi and blood brotherhood, I might get all the chiefs friendly and at peace with one another. The three ruling chiefs at that time were Karuri, Karkerrie, and Wagombi, and I felt that if I could once get these three to make friends I should soon be able to make the petty chiefs stop their squabbling. I had already got a friendly understanding with the two first-named chiefs, but Wagombi was by far the biggest and most influential of the three, and if I could get him to come in the matter was settled and the country too. My success, so far, was undoubtedly due to my having Kikuyu natives with me as my followers. Without them I should probably never have achieved anything at all, but the fact of my having what were practically their own people with me gave the chiefs I met confidence in me.

I parted on the best of terms with Karkerrie, and set out for Wagombi’s country. The country we were now passing through was much more sparsely inhabited, and we camped the first night at the headwaters of the Tana River, where, although no natives came to see me, I took the usual precautions for guarding the camp. Very shortly afterwards these precautions were amply justified, and I was made to realize that I was by no means in an entirely friendly country yet. Some of my men, going down without a guard to fetch water, were attacked by natives, and three of them speared to death. They had evidently been ambushed while going through a shamba by some natives who had immediately cleared off, and, though I made inquiries and found traces of a good many feet in the shamba, the murderers themselves were nowhere visible. We buried the three bodies that afternoon, and had no more disturbance during the night. The next morning we had struck camp for the final stage of the march to Wagombi’s when we saw a lot of natives doing a war-dance and shouting. Going to inquire what it was all about, I found that they had dug up the bodies of the three men we had buried the previous day, and were having a war-dance over them; so, turning away from such a gruesome spectacle, we resumed our march.

I had, of course, already sent messages on to Wagombi, to let him know that I was coming, and the news had spread among his own people that I was on the way to pay him a visit. Wagombi himself had come out a considerable distance to meet me, about ten miles from his own village. I found him a fine, tall fellow, in his bearing and appearance every inch a chief, and in his speech a good deal more brisk than any other Kikuyu I had met. He greeted me very heartily, shaking hands in the usual Kikuyu fashion—first spitting in the palm—and had quite a lot to say about himself and the country. He had with him quite a young lad, about ten years old, whom he introduced as his son and successor, and who seemed a very bright little fellow, of whom the chief appeared to be very proud. This lad is at the present time the chief of that district.

Wagombi brought no other followers with him but two or three old men. He himself wore a robe of monkey-skins, and was without any head-dress, while he carried a huge spear. As we proceeded towards the village he told me that he had heard a lot about me, and was very pleased to meet me. He said that he knew he had a very bad reputation for his treatment of people passing through his country, but that he was anxious to make friends with me, and was pleased that I had not brought any Arabs or Swahili with me, as he did not want any people of that sort in his country, and would kill the lot of them. Being some distance ahead of my party, and noticing that we were meeting large numbers of warriors as we went along the road, I sent word back to my people to keep a sharp look out, and told the chief about my men having been murdered at the last camp. He said that it had been done by his people all right, but that they had been acting absolutely on their own; in fact, he had sent messengers along our road to tell them not to interfere with us in any way, so that what had happened had been entirely against his wishes, and he meant to find out who had done it and punish them.

By the time we had got to his place we had quite a big following, and one old man who joined us by the way must have been the chief’s medicine man, as when he first met us he killed a sheep on the road, and at every stream we crossed he sprinkled a little of the dung taken from the sheep’s intestines on the river bank and in the stream. (This practice figures largely in the superstitious rites of the Kikuyu.) He also sprinkled some on the road as we went along, at the same time shouting a lot of gibberish. He had previously cut two rings out of the skin of a sheep, and given them to the chief and myself to wear on our right arms, a custom which, it seemed, was a sign of friendship.

Wagombi’s kraal was right at the top of a smaller mountain which rises at the foot of Mount Kenia, and from this vantage-ground a splendid view could be obtained of the country for many miles around. The morning after our arrival I had an opportunity of taking in the full beauty of the scene from our lofty situation. Spread out as far as the eye could reach was a panoramic view of the Kikuyu country through which I had travelled, showing the glittering streams threading their way through deep valleys, the hills on either side being clothed with trees, and dotted here and there with villages; while, where the country was more open, cattle and sheep could be seen quietly grazing, and the cultivated clearings could be seen at intervals. Viewed as a whole, the landscape presented a rugged appearance, with deep clefts between the mountains, innumerable streams, and thick forest land; while between the mountains on the right could be dimly made out the edge of the Laikipia Plain. We were on the lower slopes of Kenia, and for a considerable distance up the mountain is clothed with a thick forest, so dense that, except in a few places, it is quite impenetrable.

The most careless mind must be awed by the majesty of Mount Kenia, as the eye ranges over its huge bulk, from the wooded slopes near the foot to its summit, rising many thousands of feet in the air, crowned with a circle of perpetual snow, glistening in the rays of the sun. Surrounded by Nature in her grandest form, Wagombi might be pardoned for a conscious pride in his magnificent heritage, which, owing nothing to the art of the landscape gardener, yet far surpassed the beauties of any estate to be found in the civilized countries of the world.

I found that Wagombi had a number of rifles, and ammunition for them as well, and all the rifles were in good order. He told me he had got them from the Wakamba, Arabs, Swahili, and that class of people. Describing the Swahili as a foolish lot of people, who attempted to come through his country without taking any precautions, he made no scruple of killing them, and of taking anything they had. One thing I liked about the chief was his absolute straightforwardness about everything. He made no attempt to hide anything, but would tell you quite frankly about all his affairs, contrary to the usual practice of the nigger.

While we were camped there thousands of warriors came to see us, and they came stalking into the camp in such numbers that it was absolutely impossible to try to keep them out, as it could not have been done without using force, and that would have upset everything. Previously in travelling through the country I had always kept men on guard to prevent any one coming into the camp unless first disarmed, but here they came in by hundreds, and I could not keep them out. Knowing Wagombi’s reputation, I thought he might be trying the confidence trick on me by appearing so friendly, and took steps accordingly.

I told Wagombi that I should like to build a camp, as it was rather cold, and asked him to get some of his people to help me. He said he would be only too pleased, and the next day his men started bringing in wood and grass; and I then got a lot of them started building a house, and told the chief that it was the white man’s custom to put a fence round. As he made no objection, I marked off a big open space round the house, my real intention being to build a kind of small fort; but it was more politic to say that I wanted to build a house, as it roused no suspicion as to my real intention. I had it all planned out in my head, and first of all had a big circular fence built, just high enough to stand and shoot over. I then told the chief that I had not built this fence high enough, and should have to build another inside it, and as he raised no objection again, I built another, seven or eight feet high inside the first, so that I now had a double fence all round, the entrance to the first being at quite a different point to that of the second. This form of structure would be a great advantage in case of attack, as it would be necessary, after entering the first fence, to walk some distance round before coming to the entrance to the second, and it would give us a chance, in case of a rush, of shooting the intruders before they had a chance of getting into the inner circle of the fort. I also built a tower about thirty feet high, which made an excellent look-out, and had the advantage of enabling the defenders to cover any portion of the fort with their rifles. The plan aroused no suspicion, and they probably thought that it was the way white men’s houses were usually built.

I was rather proud of my tower, and a brief description of it may interest the reader, so I will give it. It was, of course, constructed of wood. Taking four strong poles for the corner-posts, I lashed cross-pieces between them, diagonally, on each side with bark or fibre-rope, which is very strong and lasts for years, and on the top of this framework I built a platform, and above the platform I repeated the process, so that the tower was really a double-storied building, with an arrangement of ladders to reach the upper portion. Wagombi thought that the way I had built the house was quite a good idea, and remarked in a quiet way, “What a good thing it would be to keep a rush of the savages out!” Curiously enough, by “savages” he meant his own people. I expect he tumbled to my object, as he was a fellow who had all his wits about him, but he made no further comment. My rule had always been never to neglect any precautions, whether the natives were friendly or otherwise; and so far I had pulled through all right. Experience had taught me that to do things in a dilatory or careless fashion was to put temptation in their way, so I never took the risk.

I camped at Wagombi’s for a considerable time, and he told me that they had some ivory, and on my expressing a wish to trade the ivory came in plentifully, while the price was quite different to what I had paid at Tato, being very much cheaper—almost given away, in fact, in comparison. In the meanwhile I frequently invited Wagombi to my place, and taught him to drink tea. His headman also came to see me, and we got to be on very friendly terms. After a time the chief mentioned blood brotherhood, and asked me if I was agreeable to join him in the ceremony. I said I thought it would be a very good thing, and then told him about Muga-wa-diga and Karkerrie, and suggested that it would be a grand thing if we could all make blood brotherhood together. I particularly wanted to pull this off, as it would make all the chiefs friendly with one another, and I should then have them under my control.

Later on I managed to arrange the ceremony of Pigasangi, which, as I have explained, is much more of a national affair. Of course, I first suggested this to Wagombi, but did not manage to get his consent without a lot of trouble, and after going very fully into an explanation as to why I was so anxious to bring it about. He had a very strong objection to blood brotherhood with Karkerrie and Muga-wa-diga, and took a lot of talking round; in fact, I only managed the matter eventually by the aid of presents.