THE STORY OF AN OUTING 



of one is cut the blood flow is enormous. I was shocked 

 to see the porters empty their canteens of water and fill 

 them with blood, and, this done, apply their mouths to 

 the orifice, or catch the blood in their hands, and thus 

 gorge themselves. We took great pains in cutting out the 

 sirloin and carefully wrapping it, in the interest of clean- 

 liness, for our own table use. When it reached camp, 

 four miles distant, only one sirloin remained. Investi- 

 gation showed that the porters had eaten the other raw 

 on the way to camp. While skinning, they would cut 

 off hunks of meat, still almost pulsating with life, and 

 bolt them in true ferce nature? style. 



Sufficient unto the day is the responsibility thereof 

 with them. "The Lord [or Allah, rather] will provide" 

 is their faith and they live up to it. He has not, how- 

 ever, provided them with a sense of honor as to contract, 

 property, or truthfulness. They are very skilful at de- 

 ceiving. 



I was greatly amused by one incident. The day I 

 killed two lions they went wild in celebrating the event. 

 They bore me around the camp several times on their 

 shoulders with much shouting and singing, the Ka- 

 virondos going through some accustomed ceremony. 

 Then they bore Cuninghame around in similar manner^ 

 and finally seated themselves in front of my tent in 

 serial rows, awaiting backsheesh, which I understand 

 accompanies the killing of a lion in all safaris, since lions 

 have become scarce and difficult. Their enthusiasm, 

 much of it, was born, doubtless, of expected backsheesh. 

 They were lined up and the neopara (head man) went 

 down the line with a bag of rupees, dropping one in each 

 hand. One fellow put out his hand, as did the others, 



38 



