THE GUASO NYERO 
279 
turning, they were apt to get in front, to pilot me back to 
camp. If, as at this time was generally the case, we re¬ 
turned with our heads bent to the rushing rain, they trudged 
sturdily ahead in dripping silence. If the weather was clear 
the spirits of the stalwart fellows were sure to rise until they 
found some expression. The Wakamba might break into 
song; or they might all talk together in Swahili, recounting 
the adventures of the day, and chaffing one another with 
uproarious laughter about any small misadventure; a 
difference of opinion as to the direction of camp being 
always a subject, first for earnest discussion, and then for 
much mirth at the expense of whomever the event proved 
mistaken. 
My two horses, when I did not use them, grazed con¬ 
tentedly throughout the day near the little thorn boma 
which surrounded our tents; and at nightfall the friendly 
things came within it of their own accord to be given their 
feed of corn and be put in their own tent. When the sun 
was hot they were tormented by biting flies; but their work 
was easy, and they were well treated and throve. In the 
daytime vultures, kites, and white-necked ravens came 
round camp, and after nightfall jackals wailed and hyenas 
uttered their weird cries as they prowled outside the thorn 
walls. Twice, at midnight, we heard the ominous sighing 
or moaning of a hungry lion, and I looked to my rifle, which 
always stood, loaded, at the head of my bed. But on 
neither occasion did he come near us. Every night a fire 
was kept burning in the entrance to the boma, and the 
three askaris watched in turn, with instructions to call me 
if there was any need. 
I easily kept the camp in meat, as I had guessed that 
