THE MARCH TO MOCI. 
107 
lofty and isolated mountain in the Masai country, to 
which we hoped later on to pay a visit. We fell in 
with zebra and hartebeest, apparently very tame, and 
also water-buck. I might have shot one of the last 
near a stream we crossed, only some of the men said 
they had seen a herd of buffalo a little lower down the 
hill, so I preferred to go after them without risking 
the chance of their being disturbed by a rifle-shot. 
However, I might just as well have bagged my water- 
buck “ in the hand,” as, though I went nearly to the foot 
of the hill, all the buffalo had retired to the bush, and 
I did not even catch a glimpse of them. 
On my return to the caravan I found Martin in a 
great state of mind at my having gone off with only 
one man, because he had seen a large body of natives 
in the plain below, and was afraid they might prove 
to be a Masai war-party, who generally frequent this 
route on their way to the coast. The last two hours 
led us up a steep ascent through thick bush until 
we eventually arrived at the entrance to Mandara’s 
dominions, a rough sort of gate like the one leading 
into Taveta, and here our men fired the customary 
salute, which was replied to by the natives inside. 
After crawling through the narrow gateway we had 
to cross a very steep ravine ending in a narrow stream, 
and on ascending its opposite side we soon arrived at 
a camping-ground set apart for strangers. Unfortu¬ 
nately we found the house Martin had built here, 
during a former visit, occupied by some Swahili slave- 
traders and in a filthy state, so we had to be satis- 
