CHAP. X A LITTLE LEARNING 183 



this I also began to wish myself in Zanzibar. Instead of 

 following round the rocks on the edge of the valley, I resolved 

 on taking a short cut across the peat swamps. The walking 

 was very bad, but the compass led us straight to a huge 

 boulder, on which had been erected a small stone man, as a 

 guide to the position of the camp. In five minutes we ought 

 easily to have reached it, but as we did not see it, we shouted. 

 There was no answer, so we went on again for another five 

 minutes, and then for another, but we could see no sign of the 

 camp. As we knew we were now below the right level, we 

 returned on our tracks. I made excursions on either side, as 

 far as the limit of shouting distance of the Zanzibari, but we 

 got back to the stone man without finding any trace of the 

 camp. By taking care and using the compass, we easily found 

 our way to some heaps of ashes and layers of cut bushes, 

 which marked the site of our encampment. It had clearly 

 been deserted for some time. My companion was in despair, 

 while I was greatly alarmed ; for I knew Omari would never 

 have moved camp without permission, except under very 

 extreme circumstances. I told the Askari he could come with 

 me at my pace, or follow by himself at his own, and having 

 found the trail followed as quickly as possible along it. It 

 was not always easy to find, for the spongy peat soon closed 

 up and obliterated the footprints. 



At length we reached the upper edge of the forests. We 

 knew that if we once lost the trail, amid the woody shrubs on 

 its border, it would be hopeless to find it again, so we took 

 turns at going on hands and knees to track it beneath the 

 bushes. It was not till close upon six o'clock that we heard 

 the report of a rifle. We ran toward it, expecting to find it 

 had been fired by a search party. To our relief we found it 

 was a signal from camp. 



Omari came forward at once to welcome me, and express 

 his regret at the illness of the men. He offered no explanation 

 of the change of camping-ground, so I angrily asked for one. 

 It then transpired that my cook, who had been taught writing 

 in a mission school, had put his knowledge into practice by 

 forging a letter in my name, telling the headman to go back, 

 and that I would follow slowly afterwards. I found when I 

 got back to the coast that the man was an adept in the art. 



