A SILENT MARCH 



the weary hours that followed, as we climbed ever 

 upwards towards Meru, I watched them wheel across 

 the heavens and set in all the incomparable grandeur 

 of a tropical night. The air grew colder as we 

 advanced, and towards one o'clock I was glad enough 

 to put on my heavy overcoat, as I was unable to 

 keep warm, although walking at a good pace. In the 

 early morning hours my gun-bearer declared he could 

 not go any farther, so taking the rifle I left him 

 behind ; but he soon rejoined us, having been scared 

 almost to death by the grunting of a lion. During 

 the rest of the march, fear alone prevented him from 

 collapsing, and he kept moaning and sobbing to 

 himself in utter exhaustion. 



By five o'clock I was myself desperately weary, 

 for we had not halted a moment, but my Somali 

 marched on tirelessly, although they too had grown 

 silent and had ceased their chattering and singing. 

 Dawn broke at last with rare loveliness, and for a 

 brief space the summit of Kenya, snow-clad and 

 imposing, was visible, before it disappeared once 

 more behind a heavy pall of mist and cloud. We 

 passed through a dense belt of forest, and then up 

 and down the steep slopes of the foothills, until at 

 last, just before ten o'clock, we entered the prosperous 

 and fertile little station of Meru. It had taken us 

 fourteen and three-quarter hours to cover the forty- 

 three miles from Archer's Post,^ and this was by 

 no means a bad performance, coming as it did on 

 the top of the hard and continuous marching we had 

 accomplished since leaving Marti Plateau. 



That evening I paid off my syces, giving them 



1 I had no means of measuring the distance myself, but that was 

 the figure given me by the District Commissioner. 



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