A CHOIR OF MASAI GIRLS 



407 



was the very type of an obedient slave, would not dream, 

 whatever the emergency, of waking me roughly, and sometimes 

 when half asleep I had heard him trying to rouse me by 

 whispering quite softly ' Bwana, Bwana,' again and again. I 

 now gave Schaongwe the strictest orders to call me, if necessary, 

 at any hour of the night, and to keep me informed of every- 

 thing that occurred. 



The first hour of the next day's march was along the upper 

 edge of a small but deep valley with an occasional slight trend 

 westwards. We then went down into the valley and followed 

 its winding course till we came to its junction with that of the 

 Guaso Nyiro. So far the soil had been volcanic and strewn 

 with lava, ashes, and other debris, but as we went down this 

 valley we began to crunch white quartz-sand under our feet, 

 and presently came to masses of the primary rock. As before 

 on the Dariama, we noted a corresponding change in the flora, 

 marking the transition from the one geological formation to 

 the other. 



A little winding stream flows into the valley from the north, 

 and we were soon walking on soft sward beneath the shade oi 

 wide-spreading trees, and thick evergreen bush. In the course 

 of a single hour we had left the barren steppes behind, and as 

 in some transformation scene, found ourselves in a kind of park, 

 enlivened by the twittering of numerous birds with plumage 

 of every hue. 



We met many Masai with their herds in the valley, and 

 passed one already inhabited kraal. Halting for a short rest 

 near it, we were welcomed by a perfect choir of girls, who, 

 like the gipsies of home memories, took up the song one after 

 the other. But our hearts were not to be softened now, we 

 must press on. Just as we were entering a valley a little later, 

 we came upon a group of Masai moran at a meal. They all 

 looked up and seemed startled at the sudden appearance of a 



