42 IN THE GRIP OF THE NYIKA chap. 



village on our way to Kitui, as we had to march 

 that way to reach a ford over the Athi river, 

 which again barred our path. It was now flowing 

 in a south-easterly direction after having taken a 

 great circuit round the northern slopes of El Donyo 

 Sabuk. On our way to the ford we passed through 

 several villaofes, from which most of the women and 

 children fled on our approach. They were evidently 

 unaccustomed to white men iii these parts, although 

 it is so near to Nairobi. 



As I marched along at the head of the safari, I 

 noticed by the side of the path, and awaiting our 

 approach, a group of natives under the leadership of 

 a tall old man, who looked a very striking and 

 picturesque, though rather incongruous figure, with 

 a bright red blanket wrapped round him, a white 

 helmet, similar to that worn by the troops in India, 

 tilted well back on his head, a very large and 

 battered umbrella tucked under his left arm in the 

 latest Piccadilly style, and a formidable Masai spear 

 grasped in his right hand. This turned out to be 

 Ngai. 



In addition to his male following he was accom- 

 panied by two of his wives, who carried food for 

 their lord, and also a present for us in the shape 

 of a parcel of beans made up in a native-made and 

 neatly-woven matting bag. As I had all along 

 more or less suspected would be the case, Ngai 



