THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO CHAP. 



and had completely lost their bearings. After 

 giving them some casks of water, we directed them 

 to Muscat (the port they wished to make), and our 

 vessel resumed its journey, leaving them still 

 becalmed in the midst of that glassy sea. Whether 

 they managed to reach their destination I never knew. 



As our steamer made its way to its anchorage, 

 the romantic surroundings of the harbour of 

 Mombasa conjured up visions of stirring adventures 

 of the past, and recalled to my mind the many tales 

 of reckless doings of pirates and slavers, which as a 

 boy it had been my delight to read. I remembered 

 that it was at this very place that in 1498 the great 

 Vasco da Gama nearly lost his ship and life through 

 the treachery of his Arab pilot, who plotted to 

 wreck the vessel on the reef which bars more than 

 half the entrance to the harbour. Luckily, this 

 nefarious design was discovered in time, and the 

 bold navigator promptly hanged the pilot, and 

 w r ould also have sacked the town but for the timely 

 submission and apologies of the Sultan. In the 

 principal street of Mombasa appropriately called 

 Vasco da Gama Street there still stands a 

 curiously-shaped pillar which is said to have been 

 erected by this great seaman in commemoration of 

 his visit. 



Scarcely had the anchor been dropped, when, as 

 if by magic, our vessel was surrounded by a fleet 



