i62 UNDER THE AFRICAN SUN 



descending trickle ; and though by good luck it did not come 

 down on the top of my bed, it did on the top of my camp- 

 table which I had to move to prevent the raindrops from splash- 

 ing all over the room. 



Suddenly at 8.30 p.m. two men came running into my room 

 — Fadlemula Effendi, the Soudanese officer in command, and 

 the headman of Kajanga, our Wanyoro ally. Both men were 

 armed. The Effendi hurriedly told me that the Soudanese 

 sergeant-major, when doing his round of patrol inspection, 

 had been set upon by hostile Wanyoro and had been killed by 

 a spear-thrust in the back. As I turned to get my Martini rifle 

 and a lantern, the Effendi rushed away, and I did not see him 

 again till after the occurrence of the subsequent sad events. As I 

 hurried towards the entrance of the fort I was accompanied by the 

 Armenian clerk and by my servants, my plucky little Wahima 

 boy keeping close to my side and carrying my rifle for me ; my 

 Arab servant had armed himself with my second rifle. Before 

 I could reach the entrance, I was met by a rush of armed 

 Soudanese soldiers and completely surrounded by them near 

 the corn-stores inside the fort. 



These corn-stores consist of huge wicker baskets, plastered 

 on the inside and on the outside with mud ; they are raised above 

 the ground on wooden trestles about two feet high ; and they are 

 protected against sun and rain by a grass-thatched cover re- 

 sembling a candle-extinguisher. Dry food, such as Indian- 

 corn, is stored up in this manner in anticipation of unforeseen 

 occurrences. 



Nearly all the Soudanese soldiers at the time at Masindi were 

 raw recruits. When they surrounded me, they were mad with 

 excitement. They had refused to listen to their officer's voice, 

 and had rushed into the fort against his direct orders. All their 

 rifles were loaded and were pointed at me. They were shouting 

 angrily, but as I did not understand one word, I was fortunately 

 able to remain unmoved. My Arab, however, understood, and 

 he said to me in Swahili : " Master, get back to the house ; they 

 mean to do you some harm." Even if I had wanted to retreat, I 

 could not have done so, as I was hemmed in on all sides. It is 

 surprising, that one of the rifles in all this pushing and surging 

 crowd did not go off by accident and stretch me dead. A 

 merciful Providence saved my life, and saved thereby the whole 

 of Unyoro ; for my death would have committed the men, once 



