CHAPTER XI 
THE GUASO NYERO; A RIVER OF THE EQUATORIAL 
DESERT 
When I reached Neri, after coming down from killing 
my first elephant on Kenia, I was kept waiting two or 
three days before I could gather enough Kikuyu porters. 
As I could not speak a word of their language I got a couple 
of young Scotch settlers, very good fellows, to take charge 
of the safari out to where I intended to hunt. There was a 
party of the King’s African Rifles camped at Neri; the 
powerful-looking enlisted men were from the south, chiefly 
from one of the northernmost tribes of Zulu blood, and 
their two officers were of the best Kipling-soldier type. 
Then there was another safari, that of Messrs. Kearton 
and Clark who were taking some really extraordinary 
photographs of birds and game. Finally, Governor and 
Mrs. Jackson arrived from a trip they had been making 
round Kenia; and I was much pleased to be able to tell 
the Governor, who had helped me in every way, about my 
bull elephant, and to discuss with him some of the birds we 
had seen and the mammals we had trapped. A great 
ingowa, a war-dance of the natives, was held in his honor, 
and the sight was, as always, one of interest and of a certain 
fascination. There was an Indian trader at Neri from 
whom we had obtained donkeys to carry to our elephant 
camp ‘‘posho,” or food for the porters. He announced 
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