276 AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 



I had kept four Kikuyu with me to accompany me on 

 my hunts and carry in the skins and meat. They were with 

 me on this occasion; and it was amusing to see how my 

 four regular attendants, Bakhari and Gouvimali the gun- 

 bearers, Simba the sais, and Kiboko the skinner, looked 

 down on their wild and totally uncivilized brethren. They 

 would not associate with the "shenzis," as they called 

 them; that is, savages or bush people. But the "shenzis" 

 always amused and interested me; and this was especially 

 true on the afternoon in question. Soon after we had 

 started campwards with the skin and meat of the oryx, 

 we encountered a succession of thunder-storms. The rain 

 came down in a deluge, so that the water stood ankle deep 

 on the flats, the lightning flashed continuously on every 

 side, and the terrific peals of thunder made one continuous 

 roll. At first it maddened my horse; but the uninter- 

 rupted blaze and roar, just because uninterrupted, ended by 

 making him feel that there was nothing to be done, and he 

 plodded stolidly forward through the driving storm. My 

 regular attendants accepted it with an entire philosophy, 

 which was finally copied by the Kikuyus, who at first felt 

 frightened. One of them had an old umbrella which he 

 shared with a crony. He himself was carrying the marabou 

 stork; his crony had long strips of raw oryx meat wound 

 in a swollen girdle about his waist; neither had a stitch 

 on save the blankets which were wrapped round their 

 throats; and they clasped each other in a tight embrace as 

 they walked along under the battered old umbrella. 



In this desolate and lonely land the majesty of the 

 storms impressed on the beholder a sense of awe and 

 solemn exaltation. Tossing their crests, and riven by 



