MANAGING A SAFARI 



long their war cry would ring out, "Mualo!" fol- 

 lowed by shrieks of laughter. 



Of the other type was Sulimani, a big, one-eyed 

 Monumwezi, who had a really keen wit coupled 

 with an earnest, solemn manner. This man was no 

 buffoon, however; and he was a good porter, always 

 at or near the head of the procession. In the great 

 jungle south of Kenia we came upon Cuninghame. 

 When the head of our safari reached the spot Suli- 

 mani left the ranks and, his load still aloft danced 

 solemnly in front of Cuninghame, chanting some- 

 thing in a loud tone of voice. Then with a final 

 deep "Jambo!" to his old master he rejoined the 

 safari. When the day had stretched to weariness 

 and the men had fallen to a sullen plodding, Suli- 

 mani's vigorous song could always set the safari 

 sticks tapping the sides of the chop boxes. 



He carried part of the tent, and the next best 

 men were entrusted with the cook outfit and our 

 personal effects. It was a point of honour with 

 these men to be the first in camp. The rear, the 

 very extreme and straggling rear, was brought up 

 by worthless porters with loads of cornmeal — and 

 the weary askaris whose duty it was to keep astern 

 and herd the lot in. 



VS 



