Part 2

"Man, you're a tenderfoot," said Mr. Gillespie, laughing. "You must have a cook. Your men would all mutiny if you didn't. I don't mean that he would cook for them; they'll have their own cooking-pots; but they wouldn't obey you for a day if they saw you cooking for yourself. The first maxim for a white man in this country is: 'Never do a black man's work.' Order your men about as much as you please, but _don't do anything_."

"But that's a doctrine of the dark ages. Confound it, man, that's the kind of thing we shook off centuries ago. I'm not a duke."

"That's just exactly what you are here. The natives will regard you as their lord and master, and if you don't act up to the part--why, man, I think the Governor will expel you as an undesirable alien. In short, you must have a cook."

Here Mr. Gillespie's native servant came in to say that an Indian gentleman desired to see him.

"Send him in," said Mr. Gillespie, and there entered, suave and smiling, Said Mohammed, failed B.A. He bowed respectfully--a little too respectfully, thought John--to his acquaintances of the day before; then, addressing himself to Mr. Gillespie, he said--

"Having learnt in the bazaar, sir, that the esteemed gentleman in whose company I had the honour to travel yesterday is engaging a safari, I embrace the opportunity of submitting tender of my services in unremitting attention to the interior economy--soups, joints, sweets, et cetera, or, as one might say, _hoc genus omne_, as it were."

John opened his eyes. Apparently the failed B.A. was offering himself as cook; but John thought he must be mistaken. Mr. Gillespie, however, after a stare at his visitor, said in a severely practical tone--

"You have experience?"

"Yes, sir, I am _experientia docet_ with several years' standing, and testimonials galore. Videlicet, the Central Restaurant, sir, in London, continuously chock-a-block on curry day when my dishes, prepared Indian fashion, were the delight of city gents and ladies of prepossessing appearance who feed there regular as clock-work. In soup, joint, entree I am a don; in sauce I am a wily adept."

"Come up to my bungalow and cook my dinner to-night," said Mr. Gillespie.

"Verree good, sir. The proof of the pudding is in the mastication thereof. Good-morning, sir, and assuring you of my best services at all times."

There was a laugh when Said Mohammed had gone.

"He'll never do," said Mr. Halliday.

"Man, if he's any good at all he'll be a perfect treasure," said Mr. Gillespie. "And you'll have to pay him fifty rupees a month."

"Near L3 a month for cooking?" cried Mr. Halliday. "Can't afford it."

"But, my dear sir, you can't get any sort of a cook here for less than thirty rupees; and our failed B.A., if he's worth his salt, will be worth fifty. He will at least be clean; it's a part of his religion."

"Well, perhaps he's a failure all round. Anyway, we don't want kickshaws, and a cheaper man will do all we need."

But the dinner at Mr. Gillespie's that night turned out excellent--well cooked, well served, and varied though simple dishes.

"Faith, Halliday," said the host, "if you don't engage the man I'll take him myself. That'll bring you up to the scratch if you've any Scotch blood left in you."

Whether it was due to this provocation or not, Mr. Halliday engaged Said Mohammed next day, for a month. Then, having been advised of the inexpediency of delay, which might be taken advantage of by his porters to desert, he decided to set off the same day, as soon as the hottest hours were past. He sent Said Mohammed into the bazaar to buy the necessary amount of food-stuff for the natives; Mr. Gillespie undertook the purchase of small quantities of "trade"--sheeting, coloured cloths, and beads for the most part; Mr. Halliday himself bought a small tent, provisions, blankets, rifles and ammunition, and a few cheap utensils. All these articles were sent up to the bungalow. At three o'clock Said Mohammed and the six porters arrived and set about packing up, under Mr. Gillespie's directions. Within an hour the loads were packed and placed in a line on the ground.

"Now, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie, "it's up to you. You must give each man his proper load, and don't be jockeyed."

There was a twinkle in his eye which Mr. Halliday detected.

"Are you setting a trap for me?" he asked.

"No, no, man; but as you're to be master, the sooner you feel your feet the better."

Whereupon Mr. Halliday, who was not without courage as well as shrewd common-sense, instantly confided the tent and personal baggage to two of the three Swahilis, and distributed the remaining loads among the three Wakamba by a rough and ready estimate of their muscular capabilities. Then began what John called the "fun." The Swahilis accepted their loads without a murmur; were they not the best fitted to carry the _bwana's_ belongings? But one of the Wakamba, a stout little fellow with one eye, uttered a terrible wail when he lifted his bundle to his back, and, letting it down again, began to expostulate in a torrent of gibberish, of which the _bwana_, of course, understood not a word. The others instantly followed his example, and all three began to wrangle and gesticulate and abuse one another with a deafening clamour. It was plain that every man wanted the load of somebody else. Mr. Halliday looked on calmly for a few moments, Mr. Gillespie curiously watching to see what he would do, and placidly smoking a cigar without offering any suggestion. Suddenly Mr. Halliday called to Coja ben Selim, the Swahili, and the only man whose name he knew.

"You're headman; settle it," he said calmly, turning on his heel. "I give you five minutes."

The big Swahili instantly went among the Wakamba, cuffing them right and left. In less than five minutes peace was restored, the Wakamba slung their loads to their backs, passing the long loop of raw hide around their foreheads; the Swahilis set theirs upon their heads; and the cry of "Safari! safari!" indicated that they were ready to be off.

"A capital start, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie. "Good luck to ye."

Mr. Halliday and John shook hands heartily with their host and hostess, and taking their rifles under their arm, set off after the little caravan, the leader of which had already started a marching song. Said Mohammed, carrying a little bundle of his own, brought up the rear, with Coja ben Selim.

CHAPTER THE THIRD--In a Game-Pit

John felt all the thrilling excitement of a new experience. There was nothing romantic, it is true, in trudging along at two miles an hour over a decent road, which led at first through the spacious estates of colonists who had already settled in the neighbourhood of the town. But he knew that before long the caravan would enter a wild, unsettled region, swarming with game large and small, holding innumerable possibilities of encounters with strange beasts and men. And though there was nothing novel in the mere exercise of walking, it was both new and amusing to find himself in company with African natives, marching stolidly along under heavy loads, to a monotonous chant kept up by their leader, who repeated the same words endlessly. Curious to know what the man was singing, he asked Coja ben Selim, the only man of them that knew English. The Swahili gave him a wide grin and said it was all nonsense, and when John pressed him for the exact meaning he prevaricated and looked uncomfortable. The song was, in fact, an impromptu one, and the words, literally translated, meant nothing more than "Two more white men; oh, what noses! Oh, what legs!" and if John had known he would only have wondered what amusement the porters could have derived from the constant repetition of such an uninspired and uninspiring refrain. He made up his mind to learn the native tongue as soon as possible.

After they had walked for three or four miles it became suddenly dark, but there was no pause, Mr. Gillespie having advised that they should take advantage of the cool hours, and do a good ten miles before camping for the night. A new moon shed a little light upon the path, which, as the scattered cultivated districts were left behind, entered a region of long grass and belts of forest land. Presently they heard the rushing noise of water, and came to the brink of a deep ravine, whose bottom they could not see for the trees and dense undergrowth with which it was clothed. Coja ben Selim was for crossing the ravine; he said he knew of a fine place for camping a little beyond it; but Mr. Halliday was not inclined to risk a broken leg, and decided to camp in a glade on the nearer bank, and to attempt the crossing by daylight. The loads were set down, the tent was pitched, and a fire lighted; soon the men were cooking their simple supper, chattering cheerfully; and Said Mohammed, opening up the stores, produced some cocoa, tinned milk and biscuits, and in a few minutes provided his employers with a simple meal. Mr. Halliday discussed the advisability of setting a watch during the night, but Coja said that there were no black men in the neighbourhood, and the fires would keep off wild animals; so the two Englishmen wrapped their blankets around them, and slept soundly till the dawn.

Mr. Gillespie had given his guests some instruction in the general conduct of a safari, so that when Mr. Halliday put his head out of the tent and called to the headman to take up the loads, there was a brisk movement among the porters to the pile in which their bundles had been stacked during the night. They laid them in a row for inspection, first lashing to them their mats and cooking-pots. When this was done, they squatted down to eat a few roasted grains of muhindi (maize), and while the Swahilis struck the tent and tied up the bedding, the two Englishmen having rapidly dressed, Said Mohammed prepared breakfast of tinned meat, biscuits, and tea. Then, to the customary cry of "Safari!" the porters lifted their loads, the utensils were quickly packed, and while the dawn was still grey the little party left the camp and began the descent of the ravine. Looking back as he came to the brink, John saw a hyena slink out of the undergrowth and steal past the smouldering embers of the fires, and birds like kites swoop down with rushing wings, soaring up again with some remnant of food in their talons. He felt now that his new strange life was beginning indeed.

The descent was safely made, the river waded, and climbing up the further side, the travellers found themselves entering a region of bush and thorns and tall rank grass, in the midst of which they heard at times a swishing sound as some animal, invisible, darted away from before them. They had left the road leading to Fort Hall, the nearest Government station, and struck off in a direction north by east. The leader picked his way steadily, following the track of an animal, the others close behind him, though after a time some of the porters, weaker or less willing than the rest, began to lag behind. Though it was still early morning, John found it already uncomfortably hot, and, taking off his coat, gave it to Coja. Once or twice he removed his sun-helmet also, but Said Mohammed, at this, came to his side, and said, very respectfully--

"Ten thousand pardons, sir, but a word to the wise: never expose your manly brow to the solar luminary. In a brace of shakes you will have sunstroke."

"But there is no sun; I shan't hurt with this mist over the ground," John protested.

"It is human to err, sir. You cannot see the sun, but he sees you, and lo! in a moment he smites you, and it is no go. The head, sir, is the weaker vessel."

"Put on your hat, John," said Mr. Halliday. "We don't want to run any risks."

By and by the mist cleared, and having reached a ridge bare of trees, the travellers suddenly caught sight of Mount Kenya in the distance, rearing itself from the plain by such gentle slopes that it was hard to believe that its summit was 14,000 feet above sea-level and covered with snow. Its peaks were swathed in cloud; indeed, only once or twice during many months did the travellers catch a glimpse of them. Then the view was magnificent, and for the first time in his life John felt a longing to climb a mountain.

Every day's programme was the same. They started early. After a march of two hours a halt was called, to allow the laggards to come up with the party. Then the march was resumed, and continued until the sun's heat became unendurable, and the men clamoured for a long rest. One day at this time Mr. Halliday, selecting a glade shaded by immense trees, bade the men set down their loads, and take a siesta. The resting-place was not so well chosen as it had appeared to be; a stream ran close by, and the travellers had hardly settled themselves when they were beset by innumerable red ticks, which clung to the white men's clothing and bit their skin savagely, sparing the natives. The Hallidays, finding their attacks intolerable, sprang up and went on, instructing Coja to follow them when the porters were sufficiently rested. They had not gone far when they saw a herd of congoni, an animal of the antelope kind, dashing across the plain, and John fingered his rifle longingly. But Mr. Halliday would not permit him to go in chase of them.

"We shall have plenty of sport by and by," he said, "and we don't want to heat ourselves or lose touch with the men."

He had scarcely spoken when John caught sight of another safari coming across a ridge in the distance. Mr. Halliday thought it prudent to halt until they were rejoined by the rest of their party, and they threw themselves down under a baobab to wait for them. It was two hours before they came up, and the march had just been resumed when they heard shots, and saw a number of black men rushing towards them at full speed. Mr. Halliday was a little alarmed, thinking that an attack was imminent; but in a few moments Coja told him that the approaching men were plainly porters, for they were unarmed, but they bore no loads, and he suggested that something had frightened them.

In a few minutes the first of the runaways came up, and began to talk excitedly to Coja, who informed Mr. Halliday that the men were indeed porters belonging to a safari returning to Nairobi, and that a rhinoceros had just charged them, whereupon they had flung down their loads and bolted.

"Where is their master?" asked Mr. Halliday.

The man, who had been joined by several of his comrades, pointed back in the direction whence he had come. No white man, however, was in sight, and Mr. Halliday decided to hurry on and see what had become of him, ordering the men to follow, which they were plainly reluctant to do. He came within half-a-mile to the scene of the stampede, the loads of the porters strewing the grass; but there was no sign either of the rhinoceros or of the young white man who, as the scared natives said, was the master of the safari. Coja declared that the _bwana_ must have been gored or trampled by the rhinoceros, and suggested that they should hurry on and get out of danger as quickly as possible; but Mr. Halliday would not hear of leaving the spot until he had made an effort to find the unfortunate traveller. He ordered the men to set down their loads and remain with them while he made a search, and asked whether any of them could follow a rhinoceros trail. One and all first denied that they had ever seen a rhinoceros; but Mr. Halliday sternly told Coja that they would have no supper unless they recovered their memory, and then Coja himself reluctantly admitted that if the trail was very clear, and if the white men would go one on each side of him with their guns, he would try to lead them after the animal.

As a matter of fact, the trail was easily found, the ground being soft and the grass heavily trampled. It led them into a dense mass of bush. Mr. Halliday, holding his rifle ready for the least sign of danger, plunged into the jungle with John and Coja, the latter soon declaring that he saw, together with the great hoof-marks of the animal, forming paths on both sides of a ridge of grass, the smaller and fainter tracks made by a white man's boots.

"Him killed dead, sure 'nuff," said Coja solemnly. "No good look no more."

"We'll make sure of it. Go on," said Mr. Halliday, and the three continued to follow the trail.

"What's that?" cried John suddenly, a few minutes later.

"White man call; him no dead yet," said Coja.

"Hallo!" shouted Mr. Halliday, and a faint "Hallo!" came in answer.

Coja turned a little to the right, in the direction of the sound. Mr. Halliday called again, and again the answer came, louder, but still curiously muffled. Led by the sound, they now left the trail of the rhinoceros, and had proceeded but a few steps farther when Coja suddenly came to a halt, and bursting into laughter, cried, "Him down there!"

"Where?" said Mr. Halliday in amazement, looking about him. And then he saw, in the midst of the grass, a deep hole, and at the bottom, nine or ten feet below the surface, a young white man sitting cross-legged.

"Hallo!" he said, looking up with a smile. "I thought it was my brother, though it wasn't like his shout. Can you help me out? I'm afraid I've sprained my ankle."

"Of course we can," said Mr. Halliday, "but I'd like to know what on earth you are doing there."

"Thanking my stars I'm not skewered," said the other. "Let down your rifle, will you? Perhaps I can manage to scramble out; but don't let me drag you down."

Mr. Halliday lowered his rifle, holding it by the barrel, having first taken the precaution of emptying the breech; and the prisoner took it by the stock, and tried to clamber up the side of the hole. But he winced as his right foot touched the earth, and after a few moments said--

"I'm afraid I can't manage it. My ankle has got a twist. If you'll shout for my men I'll get one of them to make a sling of rope and haul me out."

"We needn't wait for that," said John. "I'll jump down and give you a lift."

"Look out, then. There's a pointed stake in the ground here which I only escaped by a hair's breadth. Jump to the left. It's uncommon good of you."

John leapt down, and making a pick-a-back, got the stranger to mount and then to stand erect on one foot. His head was now just below the level of the pit.

"I'm afraid we're not much for'arder," he said, with a smile.

"Can't you get your elbows on the edge and hoist yourself up?" suggested John.

"Can't reach. You'd better let me down."

"I'll tell you what," said John: "cut a notch in the wall for your foot. Then you can hoist yourself up by the rifle until you are high enough to get your elbows on; then it'll be easy. The earth is pretty soft."

Sitting with his legs over John's shoulders, the stranger soon cut a notch with his knife; and in a few minutes he was hauled to the surface.

"I'm much obliged to you. I might have stayed there till I starved for all my men would have troubled."

"How did you manage to fall in?" asked Mr. Halliday.

"A rhinoceros charged us as we were crossing the foot of the kopje yonder. He sprang out from behind a small mountain of an ant-hill. My men instantly flung down their loads and bolted--idiots! and as we're rather short of meat I thought I'd try to get within shot of the beast. I was following him up when the earth gave way under me, and I found myself in this old game-pit, and don't know how I managed to escape the skewer sticking up at the bottom, as long as my arm. I say, you haven't happened to see anything of my brother, I suppose?"

"We met nobody but your men," said Mr. Halliday. "Has your brother lost himself?"

"Old Joe lost! Not a bit of it," cried the young man. "He'll turn up all right. He left me a couple of hours ago to shoot something for to-night's pot, and I thought you might have come across him. I'm rather a nuisance, I'm afraid; I can't put my left foot to the ground, and our last donkey died four days ago, so that I can't ride. We've had uncommon bad luck with our donkeys. As a rule they're hardy in this climate, we were told; but every one of the six we started with has died. Really, I am a nuisance, keeping you here."

"Nonsense," said Mr. Halliday. "Coja, shout for some of our men."

"No come, master," said Coja. "Berry much 'fraid."

"If he goes and calls our headman a coward I think it will answer," said the stranger. "Headmen are very jealous of each other."

Coja entered into the spirit of the suggestion, and ran back over the tracks. In a few minutes the sounds of angry altercation came through the bush, and Coja reappeared, in company with a white-clad Somali, each man abusing the other at the top of his voice. Mr. Halliday silenced them sternly, and ordered them to construct a litter, promising a few cents to the man who did the larger share of the work. They set to work at once, weaving strands of creeping plants and stalks of grass with amazing rapidity. In less than twenty minutes a sheet of matting was finished and firmly bound to two rifles, and on this extemporized litter the stranger was carried between the headmen back to the open ground.

On the way he explained that his name was Oliver Browne, "commonly called Poll," and that he came from Cape Colony. With his elder brother he had been shooting and prospecting in North Kenya and Gallaland, and they had thoughts of settling in British East Africa, which seemed to offer better prospects than they could see in South Africa.

"I suppose you're on the same job," he concluded.

"Well, we're going to have a look round," replied Mr. Halliday cautiously. "We're on a flying visit, you see."

"And I'm a nuisance, hindering you like this. Here are my wretched men; I shall be all right now; and I can't thank you enough. We may meet again, if we decide to come north. Good-bye. And I say, if you meet that brother of mine, please tell him to hurry up, for if another rhinoceros takes a fancy to charge us, and I can't bring him down, I shall be a mangled corpse in no time."

"Hadn't we better stay with you till your brother turns up?" said John.

"Not at all. The plain is pretty open here, and a rhinoceros could not take us unawares. I shall go on slowly, and camp when I come to a suitable place, and my men will rig up a boma in no time. Good-bye again."

The matting had been transferred to two of the Brownes' rifles, and the men of each party having collected and shouldered their loads, they set off in opposite directions, the two headmen hurling abuse at each other as long as they remained in sight. Coja was particularly indignant because his rival had received the reward for completing the greater portion of the litter; but after a little Mr. Halliday consoled him by saying, casually, that his portion had been the more closely knit, so that he should receive a reward also.

"Dat oder fella no good, what I say," remarked Coja.

Half-an-hour after they had parted with Oliver Browne, they met a white man whom at the first glance they knew to be his brother, so striking was the resemblance. He was attended by four porters, each carrying a large portion of some newly-killed animal. Mr. Halliday halted as they came up, saying--

"You're Mr. Joe Browne?"

"That I am, but----" He paused, looking puzzled.

"You don't know me," said Mr. Halliday, "so you needn't rack your memory. We've just met your brother. He was after a rhinoceros and tumbled into a game-pit."

"Clumsy ass!" cried Mr. Browne, in the manner of an affectionate brother. "No bones broke, I hope?"