9, 



AT NYEMPS 



whole neiglibourliood was flat, sandy or loamy, muddy or 

 dusty according to whether it had or had not recently 

 rained. There was no sign of Lake Baringo, which lay some 

 five and a half or six and a half miles olFon the north, nor could 

 we now see the lofty mountain-wall shutting in the plain of 

 Nyemps on the side of the lake. The camp was at a height of 

 about 3,800 feet above the sea-level. 



This, then, was the real appearance of the El Dorado to 

 which we had looked forward so eagerly, hastening on in the 

 hope of finding a second Taveta. Of course the two Somal and 

 eighteen men left behind by the Count hurried out to meet us, 

 and gave us as hearty a greeting as possible ; so did the people 

 of the caravan, whilst a few natives, looking as miserable as 

 their land, came up from the village to say they were glad to 

 see us, and to satisfy their own curiosity. But after the great 

 disappointment we had just undergone, our entry into the 

 camp was a very quiet one. 



We had now reached a genuine Wakwafi settlement, a 

 primaeval home of the singular people to whom we have more 

 than once had occasion to refer in the course of this narrative. 

 The name Mkwafi, of which Wakwafi is the plural form, seems 

 to belong to the Bantu stock, but its meaning is not known 

 even to the traders frequenting this district. The Wakwafi 

 themselves object to the title, and prefer to take their name 

 from the districts in which they happen to live, calling them- 

 selves Swahili, Waarusha, Wataveta, Wanyemps, and so on, 

 l)ut of course these are really already appropriated Swahili 

 names. The Masai call them Mbarawujo. In physical 

 appearance the Wakwafi resemble the Masai, and according to 

 their own traditions, they too were once herdsmen leading a 

 nomad life in nearly the same districts as the Masai of to-day. 

 But some fifty or sixty years ago, for some unexplained reason, 

 there was a terrible civil war, in which the Wakwafi were 



