I returned to camp the next morning, having bought about a dozen sheep. In this manner we spent some days buying sheep. It was very tiring work, but I varied the monotony by building a large hut, heavily thatched with the fan-shaped leaves of the Doum palm. It was open at both ends, and served as a capital council chamber and market house. There was a great demand for iron wire, and El Hakim and I discussed the advisability of my journeying up the Waso Nyiro to a spot two days’ march beyond the “Green Camp,” where El Hakim had some twenty loads of iron wire buried. We eventually decided that it was not worth while, and the matter dropped. Some days after our arrival among the Rendili, Ismail Robli came into our camp, bowed almost to the ground with grief. His tale was truly pitiful in its awful brevity. I have mentioned the party of eighty of his men whom we had met five days up the Waso Nyiro, and who had lent us a guide to bring us to the Rendili. It appeared that after they left us they lost their way somewhere on the northern borders of Embe, and were three or four days without water. Eventually they found some pools, at which they drank, and then, completely exhausted, laid down to sleep. While they slept, the Wa’embe, who had observed them from the hills, descended, and, taking them by surprise, pounced upon them and literally cut them to pieces. Only sixteen men, who had rifles, escaped; the rest, numbering sixty-four in all, being ruthlessly massacred. We were horrified at the news; and as for Ismail, he seemed completely prostrated. As a result of the massacre, he had not nearly enough men remaining to carry his loads, and he was therefore compelled to considerably alter his plans. He now intended to buy camels from the Rendili, and thus make up his transport department. We were really grieved about the men, but felt no pity for Ismail, because, as we took care to point to him, if he had only gone back to Embe with us after our first reverse, we should have so punished the Wa’embe as to have precluded the possibility of such a terrible massacre. As it was, the unfortunate occurrence was the very worst thing that could have happened for all of us, as such a signal success would without a doubt set all North Kenia in a ferment, which would probably culminate on our return in an organized attack by all the tribes dwelling in the district. The surmise proved to be only too well founded, and, as will be seen, it was only by the most vigorous measures on our part on the return to M’thara that the danger was averted.