An ivory trader in North Kenia : $b the record of an expedition through Kikuyu to Galla-land in east equatorial Africa; with an account of the Rendili and Burkeneji tribesArkell-Hardwick, A. (Alfred)
History
An ivory trader in North Kenia : $b the record of an expedition through Kikuyu to Galla-land in east equatorial Africa; with an account of the Rendili and Burkeneji tribes
Arkell-Hardwick, A. (Alfred)
Africa, East -- Description and travel; Ethnology -- Africa, East; Rendille (African people); Samburu (African people)
reason convinced me that there was a perfectly natural explanation for
the phenomenon, but, nevertheless, I had a very nasty sensation in the
small of my back. I was irritated, also, at being unable to discover
the cause of the noise.
The next day we marched over the now familiar desert country to our
old “Swamp Camp.” Remembering the midges, we did not stop there,
but pushed on for another mile, and camped on the top of a cliff
overlooking the river. Opposite us the cliffs of red gneiss rose to
a height of over 300 feet. The face of the cliff was inhabited by
thousands of monkeys and baboons, who chattered excitedly over our
arrival, an excitement which was not allayed by a bullet I sent through
a group of them, which flattened itself against the cliff wall with a
sharp smack. They at once scattered to various places of safety behind
the rocks, and from thence made rude remarks in monkey language.
We went out after lunch to make a short survey of the route ahead. The
result was most discouraging; a more barren and desolate landscape I
had never seen. Soft brown earth, into which we sank over our ankles,
was strewn with volcanic _débris_ in the shape of our old enemy the
lava blocks. Vegetation was scarce, and game conspicuous by its
absence. It seemed rather a hopeless task to attempt to cross such
country without guides, but we determined to make a supreme effort.
We were now beginning to suffer a little for want of salt. I had a
nasty sinking feeling in my stomach, with a tendency to vomiting, and I
always felt empty inside, even immediately after a very full meat meal;
but this wore off after a week or two. We were restricted to a few
ounces of native meal (m’wele) per diem, which our _chef de cuisine_,
the indispensable Ramathani, made into little flat cakes, fried with
meat, which was the only other item on our menu.
For some days we ploughed over the rotten brown earth just described.
It was a painful experience, as the sharp blocks of quartz and lava
bruised our ill-shod feet. The sun was intensely hot, and distant
objects danced and shimmered in the heat-haze.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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