Part 7

In a few days there arrived a runner from Dodose with the news that my Dodose notables had held a meeting and, courage brewed by numbers and beer, had flatly refused to give up the Dabossan cattle left in their charge. Not knowing my native gentlemen quite as well as I ought to have, and that courage so rapidly got was as rapidly lost, I was on the point of rushing back to Dodose when another runner arrived saying that all was well and that notable after notable had singly and surreptitiously returned the full tally of cattle left with him. I was relieved to hear this, as these constant native palavers were taking up a great deal of my hunting time.

The cattle soon arrived, drank up our small pool of water, and we pushed off all together for Dabossa. The captive women were now, of course, quite free to go or stay and, without exception, they remained with us in idleness until removed by their men folk on our arrival in Dabossa. Had I allowed it, most of them would have remained as “wives” to my men rather than go back to the heavy work of tilling in their home gardens.

We had a huge reception in Dabossa. There must have been close on 5,000 spears assembled in the huge open space where we camped. Pow-wows were the order of one long weary day when the cattle were handed over and the captives returned to their relations. Peace for us at any rate was assured, but when I told the Dabossans that no one would attack them and that they ought to trade peacefully, they swore they would massacre every Swahili who might venture near their country. After I had explained my wish to hunt elephant, an old woman got up and made a long speech to the effect that they owed everything to me and that they ought to give me a pair of tusks. This they did, not particularly large ones. But what was better than tusks was guides to the Murua Akipi (Mountain of Water) country, said to abound in elephant.

This Murua Akipi was the aim of my journey. I had heard of it from native sources. It was a wonderful country where anything might happen. Huge elephant lived there. Bad Abyssinians came there. Elephant cemeteries were to be found there. Water which killed whoever drank it was there and which looked so cold and clear. No white man had ever seen it, although every traveller was supposed to be trying to reach it for the mysterious “thahabu” (gold) it contained. In fact, if one asked for anything under the sun anywhere within a radius of one hundred miles he would be referred to that mysterious blue peak, Murua Akipi.

We trailed along through monotonous cultivated country for several days. Then coming to the end of Dabossa we entered on an exceptionally large deserted zone. Here hardly anyone ventured, as Habashi (Abyssinian) prowlers might be met. For several days the large open cotton-soil plains, with bands of thorn bush, were covered with great numbers of ostrich and topi haartebeeste. Abyssinians had recently raided the outskirts of Dabossa and all the boys were rather nervous, having heard dreadful tales of the Habashi.

We were not long in coming on signs of Habashi methods. Away over the plains some small black objects were seen. Zeiss showed them to be people, apparently women, seated on the ground. At closer range there were seven of them, all young women. Closer still, they appeared to be bound in a sitting posture, and all were in a very bad state. For one thing, their tongues all protruded and were black and fly covered. This was thirst. Their arms were passed inside the knee and were lashed securely to the outside of the ankle, and so used they were abandoned in this shameless fashion to rescue on the one hand or death from thirst on the other.

Having water with us we soon released them and gradually forced sufficient moisture between tongue and teeth. Contrasted with those dreadful tongues how perfectly beautiful primitive man’s teeth appeared. Small, regular and widely set apart from each other, nothing seems to tarnish their whiteness.

These hardy creatures soon recovered sufficiently to stand up, and we packed each on a donkey to our next camp, where sufficient water for all was got. The next day we sent them off to their homes, feeling pretty certain there could be no Abyssinians between us and Dabossa, as water was still scarce.

We now sighted Murua Akipi as a minute tooth of pale blue just cutting the horizon. I thought we would reach it in two days, but it required four days of long marching to reach a small kopje a few miles from its base. That tiny tooth grew larger and larger each day until it looked an enormous size. I daresay it is not more than 2,000 or 3,000 ft., but being surrounded by huge plains it shows to great advantage.

One day while crossing the plains we had a smart shower which turned the black powdery soil into very tenacious mud. Walking became a trial for anything but naked feet, and I asked Pyjalé if the conditions were right for running down antelope. He assured me they were, and I urged him and the Dabossans to try it when opportunity arose. This was not long, for as we came out of a thorn belt we surprised a herd of eland and topi. Off went Pyjalé and the Dabossans, taking off their spear-guards as they ran. Off went the antelope, too, and for some time Pyjalé and Co. lost ground. Through my glasses I could see that the eland threw up much more mud than the topi and the topi much more than the natives. These latter hardly ever lifted a clod, whereas the galloping eland hove great masses into the air at every lurch. Consummate runners as all the natives were, Pyjalé was easily best. He could probably have closed with his beast sooner than he did but for his running it in a circle for my benefit. The heavy and fat eland were soon blown, and Pyjalé presently ranged alongside and with a neat and lightning dart of his spear thrust it to the heart. The movement was barely perceptible through the glass.

While on the subject of native runners I would like to tell what took place at Kampala, the capital of Uganda, in the year when Dorando won the marathon in England. Everyone was marathon mad, and the fever spread to Uganda. A marathon for native runners was organised as part of the attractions of the Show. Native chiefs were warned to seek out and train any likely talent they might have. The training consisted of feeding the runners largely on beef.

The course was from Enteble to Kampala show ground with one complete circuit of the ground. The course was carefully marked and two whites on bicycles were told off to ride with the runners. The distance, I believe, was almost exactly the same as the English course. About thirty runners started in the hottest part of the day, experienced heavy rain en route, which turned the road to mud and washed out the bicycles, and thirty runners arrived _together_ at the show ground, tore round the ground singing and leaping in the air, fresh as paint, completed the course still all together, and went on circling the ground, thinking they were giving their lady friends a treat I suppose. They had to be stopped eventually, but the most astonishing thing was that their time for the course was almost exactly Dorando’s time, if I remember rightly. They thought it was better fun to come in all together than by ones and twos.

Camp was pitched at the foot of the kopje, sufficient rain water being found in the elephant baths for all our requirements. The next morning I climbed the little hill in pouring rain. From its top I had a good view of the Murua to the south, while to the north a river was visible flowing northwards. On its banks were large verdant green flats which might have been as smooth as tennis lawns but for the fact that they were thickly speckled with black dots which the glasses and then the telescope showed to be the backs and heads of scores of bull elephant. The grass consequently was young swamp grass and about six or seven feet high. The big tripod telescope showed some wonderful ivory, and I have never seen before or since so many _old_ bull elephant in one place. Bunches of young herd bulls were comparatively common, but here were numbers of aged bulls.

Knowing how all naked men hate rain, I left Pyjalé in camp and took instead a well-clad boy whose feet had worn off earlier in the journey, and who had since been recuperating at the base camp. Nothing takes condition off a naked African like heavy rain. Strong as their constitutions are they wilt when constantly wet once the natural oil of the skin is pierced.

Striking straight for the swamps through the thorny flats we came out of some very dense wait-a-bit almost under the trunk of a single old monster. I thought of trying a shot up through the palate for the brain, but wisely refrained and withdrew quickly a few paces while the old bull stared straight at us, still unsuspicious, and affording an easy frontal shot.

Passing on, we were presently on the edge of the green swamp. And now how different the smooth-looking lawn appeared; huge broad-leaved grass, still young, but seven or eight feet high in places. While all the dry country was still parched after the long dry season, here on this rich flood-land the grass had two or three months’ start. Hence the numbers of elephant. But why only bulls? That is known to them only. I had a grand day among them in spite of the grass. Soaked to the skin, the temperature just suited the white man, and I returned washed out but happy to a comfortable tent, hot bath, dry towels and pyjamas, food ready and good enough for keen appetite and the best of service. Off with wet and mud-covered things, dump them on the ground-sheet; good boys are there ready to pick them up, wash them and dry them by the huge camp-fire. Fresh clothes every day—what real solid comfort one has in the bush! No laundry bills to face and no clothes to be careful of. Creases in the trousers not required below the knee, and the harder the usage the softer the wear. Having tasted Heaven already I think I must be booked for the other place. Ten good tails was the count for the day.

Mounting Look-out Hill next morning, no elephant was visible, so off went the cutting-out gang with their axes, etc., and my yesterday’s companion as guide to the slain. In the evening they returned with some magnificent ivory, but having found only nine carcases. Having the tails of ten, I thought they had failed to find the tenth, and I turned in, meaning to show them it on the morrow. I remembered now on looking at the ivory that the missing animal had exceptionally long tusks. I had measured them with my forearm, and three and a half lengths had they protruded from the lip. Resolved to find him, we searched the whole area of that swamp, but nowhere could he be found. At last I came to the spot from which I had fired, as I supposed, the fatal shot. After a little search I found the empty ·275 case. There a few yards away should have been the elephant. Here was where he lay on his side; grass flattened, mark of under tusk in mud, all complete. But no elephant could be found. It was a case of stun and nothing else. And there on those plains there probably wanders to this day an elephant distinguished from other tailless elephants by having had his tail painlessly amputated by human hand and Sheffield cutlery while under the influence of a unique anæsthetic. Meanwhile I had lost two grand tusks. One of the other bulls had a single tooth only, but almost made up for this fraudulent shortage by weighing in 134 lb. for his single tooth. The weight for the nine bulls was 1,463 lb., all first-rate stuff, and the value then in London somewhere about £877.

After some fairly successful hunting in the neighbourhood it was time to move on to the wonderful mountain. Its wonder had somewhat eased off by our close contact. Indeed, it now appeared as just an ordinary-looking African hill, extremely sterile and forbidding-looking. Although from a distance it had appeared as an isolated peak, on closer acquaintance there were seen to be not a few foot-hills of insignificant height. It was on the spur of one of these that we met with Abyssinians. As we headed across the plains men were seen scuttling up the rocks, and my glasses showed mules tethered some way up. We were therefore about to encounter our first Abyssinians. Everyone was in a twitter. Habashi have a truly awful reputation for nameless atrocities in those parts, and had it lain with them my safari would have chosen instant flight rather than come within rifle-shot of those mounted terrors. For my part, I felt tolerably all right, as the glasses showed no sign of the enemy being in any force. And then I thought that if I were in their place and saw a safari of our size marching resolutely towards me I should feel pretty anxious. This thought comforted me to such an extent that I did a foolish thing. I was at that time trying to get a really good pair of oryx horns, and when almost under the noses of the Abyssinians lying in the rocks up got a good oryx and I let drive. Too late, the thought that the enemy might think I was firing at them flashed through my mind. I rushed up to the fallen buck and seemed busy with it. As a matter of fact, we subsequently found that the great, fierce, bold Abyssinians were in a much greater funk than we were. We shouted in Arabic that we were friends, and invited them to come down. We tried everything without success, and at last camped peacefully beneath them. As evening was drawing on and they had not yet come I strolled up to the mules without arms in case they might be scared. Then I sat down and smoked, hoping they would join me. But no, all I could see of them was their heads among the rocks. I went slowly towards them, and when I was quite close I found the poor devils were literally shivering. Good Heavens! I thought, what devilment have you been up to, to be in such a state? It was only by sitting down with them in their funk holes and chewing coffee berries which they offered that they could be persuaded to come forth. But at last they came to camp and settled down. It was impossible to talk with them. They knew no Arabic, and we knew no Abyssinian. However, we made out that they were ten days’ ride from their base and were out for elephant. Slaves, in other words, I suspect. They made me a present of a goodish young mule with saddle and bridle complete and a French Daudeter rifle, while I gave them in return a fine tusk. We parted, mutually relieved to see the last of each other.

At the end of a short march across lava-dust plains we reached the wonderful mountain Murua Akipi. Skirting the base of it, we found a fine, well-worn elephant road, which we followed for some miles, until a branch led us up a gully to a little level plain surrounded by rocky lava-strewn hill-slopes of a most forbidding description. For a few yards in the centre of the plain there was some very short and verdant green grass dotted here and there by the white bleached skulls of elephant while half-buried leg bones showed their huge round knuckle ends. In the centre of this green oasis were three pools of intensely clear green water. All round the edges of the grass there were glistening lines of white powder, evidently high-water marks. I tasted the water; it was certainly very bitter.

Here was what native information called an elephant cemetery, and at first sight I thought it was. But on looking round and thinking it over a bit I was first struck by the fact that there were no recent bones or skulls. Again, all the skulls seemed to have undergone about the same amount of weathering. I talked it over with Pyjalé, and he told me that he had heard from the old men who had had it from others that once there came a dreadful drought upon the land; that so scarce had water become that springs of the nature in question were the only ones left running, and that they then became so strong that animals and men drinking of their waters immediately died. Even now as we drank it in a normal season the water was very bitter, although it appeared to have no after-effect beyond acting as a slight aperient. Natron is, I believe, the impregnation. So much for the elephant cemeteries.

Still skirting the base of Murua Akipi on well-worn elephant paths, we next day sighted zebra high up on the mountain side. Halting the safari I went to investigate and found a pool of fresh water, sufficiently large for several days. Here we camped, and from this spot I did the mountain. From its top away to the north-east could be seen a distant line of hills which I took to be Abyssinia. To the N.W. I could trace the course of the river which had afforded such good results in elephant. It meandered away through huge open plains until lost in the distance. I imagine it must flow into the Akobo or Pibor. At the time of which I write the maps were a blank as regards this region.

With my eyes well skinned for gold I washed the gravel in the pot-holes of the stream beds but without result. Soon tiring of this prospecting I began to search the surrounding country for game. With clear atmosphere and good glasses all kinds of game were seen. The dry lava-dust plains were covered with herds of oryx, ostrich, giraffe and gazelle. In the thorn belts elephant were seen. To find game I used prismatic binoculars, and to examine the animals more closely I had a large telescope on a tripod. With this I could almost weigh the tusks of elephant seven or eight miles distant. It was most fascinating to watch the animals through this glass. Sometimes rhino would be seen love-making. The inclination was to spend too much time at the eye-piece. But what dances that glass led me. I would watch two or three heavy old bull elephant feeding slowly about. It looked absurdly easy to go down to the plain and walk straight to them. But this I knew was not so, and I would try to memorise the country which lay between me and the animals. But however I tried it was always most difficult to find them once the flat was reached. Everything altered and looked different.

My hunting round Murua Akipi was so successful that I found my safari already too heavily laden to attempt the following of the north-flowing river. Only in these two particulars—the presence of large elephant and Abyssinians—had the wondermongers been right about Murua Akipi. Gold was not found. The deadly waters were merely natron springs. The elephant cemeteries had been cemeteries during one exceptionally dry season only, or so it seemed.

For a hunter well equipped with food stuffs a hunt of three months’ duration in the country surrounding Murua Akipi would have shown astonishing results. As it was we carried with us flour traded on Mt. Elgon, some 600 miles south of us. Of course everyone was on half rations, that is every boy received a condensed milk tin half filled with banana flour for the one day with the addition of as much elephant meat and fat or buck meat as he cared to take. In addition to this everyone got salt. The condition of all was magnificent. My food was arranged for in the following manner. There were four milk cows constantly in milk. As they went dry they were exchanged for others from the native herds. Two of these cows, with their calves, accompanied me wherever I went; while two rested at the base camp in Dodose. Hence I always had milk, the staple of all the native tribes. In time I came to drink it as they did, that is sour. Mixed with raw blood as they took it, I could never master, although it then becomes a perfect food I am convinced. Fresh milk as we drink it at home is regarded by all pastoral tribes in the light of a slow but sure poison. They all declare that the drinking of milk in its fresh state leads to anæmia and loss of power. Under no conditions will they drink it fresh, but will always stand it in a calabash where it soon sours.

My two cows were milked night and morning. The evening milking was put to stand in a calabash and was sour by morning. The calabash was carried by a boy and I drank it about 9 a.m. after marching from about 6 a.m. This I found did me well throughout the day without anything else, and no matter how hard the travelling. It seemed a perfect food. One did not get thirsty as after a meat meal, neither did one become soon hungry as after a farinaceous meal. Meanwhile that morning’s milk was carried in a calabash all day and was “ripe” for the evening’s meal. Then round the camp fire I would frizzle dry buck-meat in the embers.

A boy’s feeding arrangements were as follows: He would wake up about 2 a.m., having slept since about 8 p.m. On his camp fire he would warm up a chunk of smoked elephant or buck meat. This he would not touch until the first halt in the day’s march, generally about 9 a.m. He would then have this first meal, consisting entirely of smoked beef. After that he would perform his hard day’s work. In the evening at sundown his flour, if on half rations, would be made into thin gruel with fat added and a pinch of wild tamarind to “mustard” it. When on full rations thick porridge stiffened _off_ the fire with raw flour would be made, after that more smoked meat. Here again absolutely fresh meat was never eaten, always the smoked or dried meat.

As regards the thirst-resisting qualities of the grain and meat diet as opposed to the milk and meat diet there was no comparison. Pyjalé, who shared my milk, once went three days without either food or drink, whereas a grain-eating boy who became lost was rescued just in time after only thirty-six hours without water.