ON THE UGANDA ROAD 



sufficiently successful to gain the present he coveted. Some 

 eggs only were brought. I was away at the time, vainly trying 

 to boil the thermometers in a hurricane of wind and rain on 

 the summit of the peak. When I returned, wet and weary, I 

 was cheered by the promise of omelette. With the promise I 

 had to be content. The natives seem to regard it a sinful waste 

 to eat eggs, as there is so much more meat on a chicken. So 

 they try to hatch all that are laid, and no egg's chance is 

 spoiled by lack of patience. If nothing happens to it in three 

 weeks, it is allowed three months. Eggs which remain obdurate 

 are at length removed and stored up to await the arrival of a 

 caravan. My cook had accepted the guarantee that the " nest" 

 eggs offered had been laid yesterday, and bought the lot. Their 

 contents, however, were more solid than savoury, and no addition 

 to our food supply. 



Unable to refill our empty sacks at Nzaoi, we rushed on 

 next day to Kilungu. After our arrival in the land of plenty 

 the chief came to see me, and showed me a copy of a treaty 

 he had made with the British East Africa Company, by 

 which he was pledged to supply food to passing caravans. 

 Though it was then but little after noon, for we had made a very 

 early start, the native potentate said it was impossible for his 

 people to bring us anything that day. He left us, promising 

 that we should have as much as we wanted on the morrow. 

 After this not a single native came near us. Early the next 

 afternoon, as the people still held aloof, I resolved to go and 

 interview them. It was now obvious that the wily chief had 

 beguiled us into stopping there, so as to prevent our going to 

 some more friendly villages farther on. My men were very 

 angry, and clamoured to be allowed to go and seize food. I 

 should, under the circumstances, have been quite justified in 

 doing this ; but I was anxious to avoid fighting anywhere, and 

 it seemed to me that the people at Mombasa would not think 

 much of my leadership, if I could not carry a caravan up to 

 Machakos, without quarrelling with the natives on the road. 

 But I considered I ought to go and protest. So I took twenty 

 men, crossed the river, and marched to the nearest village. On 

 the way we captured an old man, who was too infirm to run 

 away. He told us that the natives had plenty of food, but 

 would not sell it to white men ; he informed us that they had 



