CHAP. XII 
LAKE RUDOLPH 
265 
These are the true El Molo. They are far from numerous, 
and always live on the little islands not far from the shore 
which occur here and there in this part of the lake. A harm¬ 
less timid people, subsisting solely on fish, which they catch 
with nets in the shallow bays, with the rare addition of a 
hippopotamus once in a way, their lives are purely aquatic. I 
was able to communicate with them through my interpreter, as 
one of them knew something of the Ndorobo dialect, though their 
own language is totally distinct; but I could get no information 
out of them about the country or elephants, as they said they 
live in the water and only land to procure firewood. Even 
then, they declared, they never go beyond the shore ; a state¬ 
ment which I believe to be true. Their canoes are constructed 
each of several small logs, fastened together side by side ; no 
trees are to be had with trunks large enough to make the 
usual type of dug-out canoes. After bartering to their satis¬ 
faction, our friends (the first natives we had seen since leaving 
•Nyiro) became reassured and visited our camp. 
A hippo was seen grazing on the bank by one of the porters 
who had wandered along the shores on fishing intent, but it 
had disappeared by the time he had called me ; and the few 
gazelles I saw were very wild, as, strange to say, all game 
seemed here. During the night, which was very hot, some 
noisy birds (storks, I fancy) were holding a great “ shauri,” with 
much loud altercation and unseemly commotion, in the water 
close to our camp ; the uproar combined with the heat banish¬ 
ing sleep. 
After a few more outlying lava ridges—the farthest out¬ 
posts of the volcanic formation—the country assumed a more 
uniformly level aspect, with a sandy soil, and travelling became 
easy ; though since we had got beyond the influence of the 
gales, which seem to be generated by Nyiro and Kulale, the 
heat had become very great, both day and night. Our routine 
of marching could now be evenly regulated in convenient stages. 
Calling the donkey-men and my boys at 4 A.M. (my cook never 
