296 



THROUGH JUNGLE AIVD DESERT 



CHAP. 



The next morning Baraka, my tent-boy, called me, 

 and said the chiefs of the Rendile were waiting to 

 receive me. I threw a white sheet over my pajamas, 

 and, slipping my feet into my sandals, told Baraka to 

 bring along my camp-chair. Together we went out 

 to join the chiefs. I found a party of thirty old men 

 seated in the sand of the river-bed ; behind them 

 lounged 100 warriors, armed exclusively with spears. 

 I took my seat, and spent a few moments in making a 

 leisurely survey of the people whom I had come so far 

 to see, and from whom I expected so much. The Masai 

 interpreter, Hassan, pointed out the three principal 

 chiefs, Lokomogul, Lyserege, and Lomoro. They were 

 seated a little in advance of the other old men, and 

 one and all were clad in rough woollen cloth, similar 

 to that worn by the Galla we had seen near Hameye, 

 on the Tana. 



The eldest of the three was Lokomogul. He was 

 of large frame, rather stout, and about eighty years of 

 age. His hair was snowy white, as was also his short 

 and well-trimmed beard. His complexion was light- 

 brown, and his blue eyes appeared mild and intelligent. 

 His head was splendidly shaped. Around his forehead 

 he wore a band consisting of several folds of white 

 cloth. 



Lomoro's features were much more prominent. His 

 nose was quite Roman, his face clean-shaven, and but 

 for his colour he resembled a sturdy American farmer. 

 He wore a positively quizzical expression. His thin 

 lips were tightly pressed together, but turned up at 

 the corners, and seemingly ready to part in a pleasant 

 smile. 



