Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African HighlandsStrang, Herbert
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Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African Highlands
Strang, Herbert
Africa, East -- Juvenile fiction
There was every indication that his goal could not be far distant. The
country was open, the soil a rich red loam, covered with rank rough
pasturage and wild clover, with occasional clumps of woodland. The air
was so cool, except at mid-day, that it was hard to believe they were
within a degree or two of the Equator; but by testing the boiling-point
of water John discovered that the height was five thousand feet above
sea-level, and the temperate climate was explained.
Two days after leaving the native village Mr. Halliday decided to pitch
his camp, and taking that for a centre, to explore the surrounding
country.
"If this isn’t the place, it ought to be," he said to John. "I never
saw a finer country for grazing; it’s good for three or four sheep an
acre, or I’m a Dutchman, and fruit ought to grow here as well as in
Kent."
"It’s rather strange, though," said John, "that there’s no game to be
seen. There ought to be plenty."
"That’s true. Perhaps they’ve been killed off by some disease, though I
hope that’s not the explanation. We’ll maybe find out by and by."
The camp was pitched near a shallow stream, a boma was erected round it,
and next day the travellers set off with Coja and one of the porters,
leaving the rest in charge of the second Swahili.
They waded several small streams, and in the afternoon came to a broad
river which, on consulting his map, Mr. Halliday felt sure was the one
marked as forming the northern boundary of his suggested settlement. But
though they searched its banks for some hours, they failed to discover
the post, and had to return unsuccessful, reaching camp after nightfall.
Next day they set off again in a different direction, so as to strike
the river at a point higher up its course. When they came to it, Coja
pointed to a native village on high ground some distance on the other
side, and suggested that inquiry should be made there. The river could
only be crossed by swimming, and there being no sign of crocodiles, they
plunged in, finding the water deliciously cold. Their approach was
descried from the village, and they were soon met by a group of young
warriors armed with bows and arrows, who, standing at a distance,
demanded who they were and what was their business. Coja shouted in
reply that they had come to make friends with the chief, and had brought
some valuable presents for him. One of the men ran back to the village,
the others remaining on guard, and forbidding the strangers to advance
until the chief arrived.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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