Matters went on in this way for some time, incidents of the kind becoming more and more frequent, until the whole country was in a state of unrest, and as I was continually travelling about the country from one chief to another, I was always hearing of them, and on one of these journeys, I had personal proof of the imposition and robbery that was being practised on the natives by these scoundrels. I happened to be in the neighbourhood of Mount Kenia—where it was still necessary to have a fair number of rifles to go about in safety—and two or three of these Somali traders, who had not guns enough to venture alone, had been following me on the journey, about a day’s march behind. It appeared that at the last village at which they had stopped they had driven away about sixty sheep from the native kraal, and had afterwards sat down quietly to trade these sheep off for ivory in my camp. As soon as the case was brought to my notice, I at once ordered them to return the sheep, and told them that the best thing they could do was to get out of the country at once, as they could not count on my assistance if the natives attacked them. It came to my knowledge that they had made their way down to Nairobi and there spread reports about my killing natives and taking their sheep away from them. The officials were practically ignorant of what was going on, and I knew that the reports of men being killed and things of that sort would be believed by them, in all probability—especially as I was a white man and the reports were brought by natives. This meant trouble for me both ways, as unless I got rid of these men they disturbed the peace of the whole country; while if I did so they carried misleading reports to the Government—always ready to believe anything to the disadvantage of a white trader—and so, between the natives, the traders, and the Government, my position was no sinecure.