164 



UNDER THE AFRICAN SUN 



bodies of chief Bekamba and of one of his men. Some wretches 

 had set fire to Bekamba's body, and the flesh was burning. As 

 the crackhng flames flickered round the abdomen, the frizzling 

 of the flesh was horrible and sickening. It recalled to my mind 

 stories, read in my boyhood, of Red Indians torturing a white 

 man to death by stretching him out on the ground and heaping 

 fire on to his abdomen. With the assistance of my servants I 

 pulled Bekamba's body from the burning brands and ex- 

 tinguished the flames. I looked at his wounds. Death must 

 have been instantaneous, and therefore he was spared the 

 torture of being roasted. 



The kraal of Kajanga, our friendly ally, had also been set on 

 fire and had been looted. There were a number of cartridges 

 in his hut, and as these took fire, their cracker-like popping off 

 rendered it dangerous to approach too near his kraal. Some 

 of the bullets fell close to my feet. 



I now asked to see the dead body of the sergeant-major, 

 stated to have been killed at the outbreak of these disturbances. 



1 found him 



^^'^S^TT'? 



lying on a 

 couch in his 

 o w n h u t, 

 encircled by 

 a sympathis- 

 ing crowd 

 of women 

 and friends, 

 all waiting 

 for him to 

 breathe his 

 last. Not 

 one had at- 

 tempted to 

 staunch the flow of blood from his wound. 1 had him quickly 

 removed to the fort, and converted one of the buildings into a 

 temporary hospital. Though he had a dangerous spear-wound in 

 his back below the right shoulder, his life was ultimately saved. 



Two other wounded were then brought in. One man had 

 received a bullet in his right arm, and another was shot through 

 the foot. Later on came a woman who had her cheek laid open 

 bv a bullet, and I had to dress her wound and stitch up her cheek. 



THREE OF THE WOUNDED. 



