156 ACROSS LA /KIP I A 



Nyiro (as the Wanderobbo indifferently called it), and saw in 

 the distance the hills of the northern frontier of the Kikuyu 

 country. We therefore felt that this stage of the journey was 

 almost at an end, and relaxed our supervision of the guide. 

 He repaid this confidence by trying to steal some arrows from 

 our native companions. He was detected, and fearing punish- 

 ment quietly slipped out of camp. His escape was not dis- 

 covered till the morning, when I at once started to search for 

 him, accompanied by a porter, who was the only man in camp 

 for whom the guide had ever betrayed the slightest feeling of 

 regard. We hoped to find him sulking under a tree, but the 

 track showed that he had started with no uncertain stride. We 

 followed it for some distance, but it went straight away from 

 camp, and the quest was hopeless. The guide had been a con- 

 tinual source of trouble to us. He had broken every rule in 

 camp, and his behaviour had been most erratic and capricious. 

 We had treated him like a spoilt child, tolerating every irregu- 

 larity, and humouring every whim, though at the same time 

 we watched him night and day. When we found that he had 

 gone, we all felt genuinely sorry for him ; for we knew that he 

 could never reach Njemps. Even if he got there, he had 

 nothing to gain ; for he had gone without the marked paper 

 that was to be a sign to the chief that he had fulfilled his con- 

 tract and been properly discharged. He would therefore not 

 get his pay, and would probably be punished as a deserter. 

 But the chances of his arrival at Njemps were so remote that 

 the treatment he might receive there was not worthy of con- 

 sideration. No doubt, unless the lions found him, the poor 

 guide perished miserably of cold and hunger on the steppes of 

 his native plateau. 



Our next camp was at the foot of a hill known as Doenyo 

 Longari, where the Kikuyu dig the ochre with which they 

 decorate their shields. Our last half ration of food had been 

 served out the day before, but during the evening Omari found 

 that a few of the porters had a little flour left. This was col- 

 lected and found to amount to nine pounds in weight. I bought 

 it at famine price, and it was made into a thin gruel and shared 

 between the men. As the only food I could eat at the time 

 was arrowroot, which in the absence of milk had to be boiled 

 in water, we all fared rather badly. 



