XIX THE STRICKEN CARAVAN 22 
ture. Their feeble cries for some of this nourish- 
ment were heartrending ; some could only whisper, 
“ Bwana, Bwana” (Master, Master”), and then 
open thei1 mouths. One or two of them, indeed, 
could hardly do even this, and were so weak as to 
be unable to swallow the spoonful of milk which | 
put between their lips. In the end six proved to be 
beyond all help, and died that night ; but the re- 
maining seven I managed to nurse into complete 
recovery in about a fortnight’s time. As our camp 
was moved on, they were brought along from place 
to place on the top of trucks, until finally they were 
well enough to resume their journey to Usoga, very 
grateful indeed for the care which we had taken of 
them. 
The day after I first found these stricken natives 
I had arranged to ride on my pony for some miles 
in advance of the railway, in order to make arrange- 
ments for the building of a temporary bridge over 
the Stony Athi River—a tributary of the Athi, and 
so-called on account of the enormous numbers of 
stones in its bed and along its banks. I ordered 
my tent to follow me later in the day, and left 
directions for the care of the sick Basoga, as I knew 
I should be away all night. My road lay along the 
route taken by the home-returning caravan, and 
every hundred yards or so I passed the swollen 
corpse of some unfortunate porter who had fallen 
