After we had washed and dressed, the tent-bearers, who were already waiting, pulled up the pegs, and in a trice the tents were lying flat on the ground, leaving the blankets and kit exposed, waiting to be packed up ready for the march by Ramathani’s deft fingers. Donkeys trotted skittishly round, colliding with everything and everybody, waywardly declining to be saddled and loaded by the perspiring Jumbi and his assistant, and skilfully evading all attempts at capture. The command, “Funga mzigo yako!” (Tie up your loads) having been given, the men selected their loads from the pile in which they had been stacked overnight, and proceeded to bind their effects to them with lengths of rope of native manufacture, either of skin or fibre. El Hakim, George, and I having finished our tea or coffee, and seen that the tents and kits had been properly packed and ready for the march, prepared in our turn. Ammunition was slipped into side pockets, water-bottles filled, and weapons examined. When Jumbi reported that the donkeys were ready, I raised my voice, “Watu wote tayire?” (Are all the men ready?) “N’deo! tayire, Bwana” (Yes, all ready, master!) would be shouted in reply. A last look round to see if anything had been forgotten or overlooked, a critical examination of the donkeys’ pack-saddles, or a dispute between two porters summarily disposed of by the judicious application of a boot, and “Chikua mzigo yako!” (Take up your loads) would ring out. Immediately after Jumbi, shouting “Haya! haya! safari twende!” (Hurry up! hurry up! go on your journey!) would “chunga” his donkeys, and El Hakim, mounting his mule, would set out, followed by the porters, George and I staying behind to see the last man out of camp, and safely on the road; thus another day’s march commenced. We made up our minds to stop a day or two at this “Swamp Camp,” as we called it, in order to give the animals a much-needed rest; there were also sundry small matters which required attention, and which could not be done very well on the march. An hour or two after the camp was pitched we despatched Jumbi, accompanied by three other men, to Mount N’gombe to look for salt. Mount N’gombe was placed on my map as due north of Mount Sheba, which we had passed two days before. It is really some thirty or forty miles to the east of Sheba, as it (N’gombe) lies some thirty miles south-south-east of our “Swamp Camp,” which was itself some twenty miles due east of Sheba. It was also marked on the map as a salt crater, and in it lay our only hope of obtaining salt during the next four months, the small supply I obtained from Ismail Robli, in M’thara, being already finished. In the afternoon George and I went down to the river and indulged in a most delightful swim, in spite of the supposed presence of crocodiles. Towards evening the mosquitos troubled us somewhat, and prevented us sleeping at all well. [Illustration: VIEW ON THE WASO NYIRO, NEAR “SWAMP CAMP.”]