A PRAIRIE FIRE 203 



some natives following behind it. We had, of course, taken the 

 precaution of firing the grass before we camped, so that the 

 fire swept past us without any worse consequences than irritated 

 throats and aching eyes. As we had no water to relieve either 

 throat or eye we passed a dismal night. The men were so 

 uncomfortable that at three in the morning they asked if we 

 could not start at once. We did so, and marched until at eight 

 we reached a brook ; beside it we rested to quench our thirst, 

 and wash. Soon afterwards we reached a Wa-kamba village, and 

 I asked for a guide. Two men came, but they soon quarrelled 

 over the way, and I had to dismiss them both. We left them 

 fighting, and marched on toward the mouth of the main valley, 

 which was reached at two. Some women came down to sell 

 us pumpkins, and told us that we were in the valley of Kava- 

 luki, and that if we walked on at once we could reach Machakos 

 before dark. The elders came in, and were at first in a great 

 rage, as we ought not to have bought food without first ex- 

 changing presents with the chief. This was a fair cause of 

 complaint, so I did my best to apologise, explaining how 

 hungry we were. My soft answer pacified the chief, and he 

 offered to lend me a guide to take me to Machakos. The 

 men were all too tired to go any farther, for they had had no 

 breakfast, and had not my own prospect of a batch of letters 

 to lure them on. So leaving Omari to follow with them next 

 day, with only a couple of Wa-kamba I started over the hills for 

 Machakos. 



We crossed the river, ascended the opposite slope, and 

 entered an upland valley that had been converted into a great 

 sugar-cane plantation by an elaborate series of dams and 

 irrigation channels. One of the guides — an old man — would 

 not, or could not, keep up during the ascent, so I sent him back. 

 Just at sunset we reached the summit of the final ridge at the 

 height of 5740 feet, or 1300 feet above our camp in the Kava- 

 luki valley. I could not see the station, and fearing we should 

 not get there that night we started to run. Twice the guide 

 took the wrong path, and we had to return. At last we saw 

 some shepherds sitting round a fire on the hillside, and I asked 

 one of them to act as guide. He pointed to the stars as a 

 sign that it was late, and then led off in a canter. This we 

 kept up till I had twice fallen over the ditches which serve both 



