South-west of my point of vantage rose the lofty peak of Kenia, veiled as usual by its curtain of cloud. To the south-east, and on the eastern side of Kenia, lay the route we had just traversed, extending through M’thara, Munithu, Zura, Moravi, Igani, Wuimbe, Zuka, and M’bu back to Maranga on the Tana River. The first stage of our journey was safely accomplished. Who could tell what Fate had in store for us in the unknown regions to the northward? On the way out I met with no game, but on my return I saw two or three impala antelopes, at which I could not get a shot, chiefly owing to the noise I unavoidably made in approaching them over loose pebbles and quartz blocks. I returned to camp unsuccessful in consequence. We learnt from George that during our absence at Munithu one of the donkeys had fallen sick and died. When El Hakim asked where the carcase was, George told us that our Wakamba porters had _eaten_ it. They did not ask for permission to do so, possibly because they feared the ridicule of the “M’sungu,” but the same night, when all was still in camp, they sneaked out one by one, and, cutting up the carcase, brought it into camp and cooked and devoured it during the night. It became a standing joke against them with the rest of the safari, who at once nicknamed them “Fisis” (hyenas) for the remainder of the trip. When any of the Swahili porters felt particularly jocular, they would sing out, “Nani amakula punda?” (Who ate the donkey?) which earnest inquiry would be immediately answered by a ringing shout from the rest of the Swahilis, “Wakamba fisi” (the Wakamba hyenas), followed by a shout of laughter, accompanied by cat-calls. The Wakamba themselves would smile a contented, cheerful smile, and think lovingly of the magnificent gorge they had enjoyed, and, I believe, rather pitied the Swahilis for their fastidious prejudices. The morning after our arrival from Munithu, the Somalis returned from their sojourn in Chanjai, where they had been purchasing food. They intended to start from the Waso Nyiro on the following day, and, as we had expected, absolutely refused to entertain the idea of another expedition into Embe. I concluded a little “deal” with Ismail during the morning, exchanging twenty cartridges for a little coarse salt.