In consequence of the enemy’s advance in force at Kungulio, the danger arose that he might gain possession of the middle Rufiji, and of the country to the south of it. He might then easily seize the bulk of our stores, and our whole system of communications, which for the most part ran from the middle Rufiji towards Livale. It was therefore necessary for me to meet his movements with our main body, which was before Kibeta, and so I marched off with the greater part of it to Lake Utungi, where I would be in a position to help Captain Otto, or to seize any favourable opportunity that might offer. CHAPTER VIII ANXIETIES AND HARDSHIPS DURING OUR STAY IN THE RUFIJI COUNTRY OUR march from Kibata was on the first day carried out according to plan. On the following day I rode ahead with a few companions, in the expectation that the troops who had several native guides with them would not fail to find the way. In the Kissi mountains we came upon large numbers of natives who, however, were very timid and often deserted their flourishing rice plantations on our approach. Later in the day I regretted that I did not appropriate some of this abundant produce for our own use. During the midday heat we rested at Pori. Some of my companions who knew the country called my attention to the acid Mbinji fruit, which we found very refreshing. Unfortunately we did not know at that time that the stone of this fruit, when roasted, makes an excellent dish, tasting like our hazel-nut. The heat was overpowering, but as we were in the neighbourhood of the enemy patrols we had to keep a sharp look-out. The springs and water-courses were now dried up; after a long search we at last found a small pool of dirty water, which, however, we were told was not injurious to health. Towards evening we reached the great deserted settlement. Here we were fortunate enough to find a negro in the employ of the German Government, who informed us that we were at Ungwara, our destination for that day. After we had walked through the place, the man showed us a pool near which we pitched our camp. My old black cook, the bearded Baba, well known to many East Africans, had very nearly kept up with our horses, and, following our trail, soon arrived. He had soon prepared his _uzeli_ (boiled rice), and was sitting contentedly by the fire. We watched him enviously, for we had nothing, and were waiting for our baggage and the troops. But no one came and we lay down, hungry, to sleep. The friend in need, however, was approaching in the shape of a splendid sable-antelope, which in the brilliant moonlight was coming down to drink. Almost simultaneously the rifles of two of my companions, van Booyen and Nieuwenhuizen, experienced Boer hunters, who had become Germans, rang out. We sprang from our blankets as though we had received an electric shock, and within a short time the first pieces of delicate flesh were roasting on the spit.