Early the following morning we struck camp and travelled due north, following native paths. Ascending a low hill, we were unexpectedly greeted by the paramount chief of the district, who rejoiced in the name of Kinuthia, and several of his elders. He presented us, by way of an introduction, with a gourd containing about half a gallon of fresh milk, which we much appreciated, signifying the same in the usual manner. When we regained our breath once more, Kinuthia handed us a note given him by Mr. Hall, a Government officer, who had been up there a month before in order to select a site for the new Government station for the Kenia district; which stated that Kinuthia was a friendly chief, and desired to be recognized as such. We immediately recognized him as such by enlisting him as our guide to the Sagana, which we expected to be able to cross that day. After a short conversation he took the lead, and on we marched again. He led us across some very rough country for an hour and a half, when we reached a small, swift river, an affluent of the Sagana. We crossed without much trouble by the timely aid of the ragged-looking A’kikuyu noblemen in attendance on their chief. Another two-hour tramp followed, when we at last reached the Sagana, which is really a noble river, abounding in hippo here, as indeed it does everywhere. We saw no crocodiles, though we inquired most anxiously after them. Kinuthia informed us that the Somalis’ safari had crossed three weeks or a month before. One of Jamah Mahomet’s cows, while fording the river, had been seized by a crocodile and the poor beast’s shoulder torn right out. We did not feel more comfortable on receipt of this intelligence, but we were assured by the natives that they had since poisoned all the crocodiles for a distance of half a mile or so each side of the ford, though they thought it likely that a stray reptile or two might have escaped the general poisoning. We had no choice, however; so we stripped and waded, chin-deep, to the opposite side, about eighty yards distant. The current was immensely powerful, and the bottom very pebbly and slippery; but we were assisted by some of Kinuthia’s aristocracy, and made the passage in safety. Our men were tired and rather nervous of the current, so for three “makono” (about 1½ yards) of cloth each, we induced fifteen of the aforesaid A’kikuyu noblemen to carry their loads across for them—a task they successfully accomplished, Kinuthia himself not disdaining to discard his royal robes (a goatskin) and earn his piece of cloth. We breakfasted on the bank, and then made another move, as Kinuthia impressed upon us the fact that an hour’s journey further on was situate the village of Manga, the chief of the Maranga, whose people had an abundance of food for sale, and where we should be able to buy all the supplies we needed without any trouble. He said he would accompany us and introduce us, which we thought was very good of him.