The most immediate of our physical difficulties was the Thirst.  Six miles from Kijabe we would leave the Kedong River.  After that was no more water for two days and nights.  During that time we should be forced to travel and rest in alternation day and night, with a great deal of travel and very little rest.  We should be able to carry for the men a limited amount of water on the ox wagon, but the cattle could not drink.  It was a hard, anxious grind.  A day’s journey beyond the first water after the Thirst we should cross the Southern Guaso Nyero River.[18] Then two days should land us at the Narossara.  There we must leave our ox wagon and push on with our tiny safari.  We planned to relay back for porters from our different camps.

That was our whole plan.  Our transport rider’s object in starting this night was to reach the Kedong River, and there to outspan until our arrival next day.  The cattle would thus get a good feed and rest.  Then at four in the afternoon we would set out to conquer the Thirst.  After that it would be a question of travelling to suit the oxen.

Next morning, when we arose, we found one of the wagon Kikuyus awaiting us.  His tale ran that after going four miles, the oxen had been stampeded by lions.  In the mix-up the dusselboom had been broken.  He demanded a new dusselboom.  I looked as wise as though I knew just what that meant; and told him largely, to help himself.  Shortly he departed carrying what looked to be the greater part of a forest tree.

We were in no hurry, so we did not try to get our safari under way before eight o’clock.  It consisted of twenty-nine porters, the gunbearers, three personal boys, three syces, and the cook.  Of this lot some few stand out from the rest, and deserve particular attention.

Of course I had my veterans, Memba Sasa and Mohammed.  There was also Kongoni, gunbearer, elsewhere described.  The third gunbearer was Marrouki, a Wakamba.  He was the personal gunbearer of a Mr. Twigg, who very courteously loaned him for this trip as possessing some knowledge of the country.  He was a small person, with stripes about his eyes; dressed in a Scotch highland cap, khaki breeches, and a shooting coat miles too big for him.  His soul was earnest, his courage great, his training good, his intelligence none too brilliant.  Timothy, our cook, was pure Swahili.  He was a thin, elderly individual, with a wrinkled brow of care.  This represented a conscientious soul.  He tried hard to please, but he never could quite forget that he had cooked for the Governor’s safari.  His air was always one of silent disapproval of our modest outfit.  So well did he do, however, often under trying circumstances, that at the close of the expedition Billy presented him with a very fancy knife.  To her vast astonishment he burst into violent sobs.

“Why, what is it?” she asked.

“Oh, memsahib,” he wailed, “I wanted a watch!”

As personal boy Billy had a Masai named Geyeye.[19] The members of this proud and aristocratic tribe rarely condescend to work for the white man; but when they do, they are very fine servants, for they are highly intelligent.  Geyeye was short and very, very ugly.  Perhaps this may partly explain his leaving tribal life, for the Masai generally are over six feet.