CHAP. V THE PORTERS SULK 79 



porters with their bare feet and heavy loads. The men went 

 so slowly across this that I soon came up with them, and we 

 marched on together over the gap at the southern end of the 

 ridge of Bwinzau. The porters wanted to camp here beside 

 some pools, though it was only half-way to the Mkindu river. 

 Mr. Watson assured me that the latter was the regulation camp- 

 ing-place, so I hardened my heart against the men's entreaties, 

 and told them they must follow me to the Mkindu. Mr. Watson 

 returned, and I went on with an Askari and a boy, in the hope 

 of getting some shooting on the way. I reached the camping- 

 ground shortly before dark, and Omari came in soon after with 

 the " fly," or outer sheet, of the tent. The river-bed was lined by 

 a species of date-palm {Ph(£nix), after the native name of which 

 (Mkindu) the river is called. The bed was quite dry, but this 

 did not cause us anxiety, as a heavy storm was threatening, 

 and began very soon after our arrival. The locality has a bad 

 reputation, as a Masai warpath follows the course of the river. 

 We examined this, and found that a party of Masai had passed 

 along it that day. We therefore did not dare to light a fire. 

 Omari and I had to take up stations at the opposite ends of 

 the path that ran through the belt of thorn scrub in which the 

 camp was situated. The Askari and the boy Philip, who were 

 the two prize cowards of the caravan, were in such a fright that 

 they were useless. It poured with rain, and the hours during 

 which I stood in the narrow path were the reverse of pleasant. 

 At eight o'clock the cook came up with the news that the 

 porters, at the instigation of the Kiringozi, Wadi Hamis, had 

 resolved to throw down their loads and desert. As I knew, 

 however, that Omari would never have come on had there been 

 any chance of this, I dismissed it as " bluff," and continued my 

 sentry duty. At nine o'clock, however, I became seriously 

 alarmed, for I thought the porters might have met Masai, and 

 prepared to start back with Omari. We were just drinking 

 some cocoa, stirred up in rain water, to fortify ourselves for the 

 march, w^hen we heard a rustle in the palms on the opposite 

 bank of the stream. We stood to arms. To our intense relief 

 we found it was a porter. Fundi Mabruk, who was hastening to 

 tell us that the rest of the men were close at hand. 



They soon arrivcd^cold, wet, miserable, and most of them 

 ashamed of their fit of sulks. It was too dark to arrange 



