XXVII 

 A VISIT AT JUJA 



NEXT day we left all this; and continued our 

 march. About a month later, however, we 

 encountered McMillan himself in Nairobi. I was 

 just out from a very hard trip to the coast Billy 

 not with me and wanted nothing so much as a 

 few days' rest. McMillan's cordiality was not to be 

 denied, however, so the very next day found us 

 tucking ourselves into a buckboard behind four white 

 Abyssinian mules. McMillan, some Somalis and 

 Captain Duirs came along in another similar rig. 

 Our driver was a Hottentot half-caste from South 

 Africa. He had a flat face, a yellow skin, a quiet 

 manner, and a competent hand. His name was 

 Michael. At his feet crouched a small Kikuyu 

 savage, in blanket, ear ornaments and all the fix- 

 ings, armed with a long lashed whip and raucous 

 voice. At any given moment he was likely to hop 

 out over the moving wheel, run forward, bat the off 

 leading mule, and hop back again, all with the most 

 extraordinary agility. He likewise hurled what 



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