CHAPTER THE SECOND--Said Mohammed, failed B.A.
Nairobi was disappointing. At a distance it looked like a cluster oftin cottages, and though these appeared larger and more substantial on anearer view, they retained the dreary aspect of makeshift whichcorrugated iron always gives. Mr. Gillespie, however, thecoffee-planter with whom the Hallidays were to stay, was hospitalityitself; he and his good wife received their visitors with real Scottishheartiness of welcome. They gave them a capital dinner, and made themfeel thoroughly at home.
Mr. Gillespie was much amused when, in answering his question abouttheir journey from Mombasa, John told him of Said Mohammed, failed B.A.
"I'm that myself," he said, with a comical smile--"failed M.A. ofGlasgow, though I don't call myself so. Professor Ramsay's LatinComposition fair stuck me, that's a fact. Man, these Indians are aproblem. We've some thousands of them here, industrious, quick, andable to live on next to nothing, which we Scotsmen have got out of theway of. I believe in free trade, when it is free; but I don't believein free competition with people who can beat us hollow, and theseIndians will do that if we let 'em. We're bound to put restrictions onthem."
"But they're British subjects, sir," John was beginning.
"Aye," interrupted Mr. Gillespie, "and so are the lions and rhinocerosof these parts, and we have to fight 'em. A country can't belong toboth wild beasts and men; nor can it belong to black men and white; oneor other must go to the wall. Not that the Indians are wild beasts, oreven black; on the contrary, they're very decent folk in the main, andthat's the worst of it. The only solution I see is to let them developthe Lowlands where we can't live, and to keep the Highlands forourselves. Man, it's a grand country."
After dinner Mr. Gillespie led his guests to the verandah, and providingthem with deck-chairs and cigars, discussed with them their immediatefuture.
"We've a decent club here; I'll introduce you to-morrow, Halliday. Youcan get a round of golf; and there are several young lassies who'll playlawn tennis all day with your son if he wishes."
"Don't speak of it, man," said Mr. Halliday hastily. "We're out onbusiness--strictly on business, and we've no time for playing till we'vefixed on our land. Where is this Mount Kenya, anyway? JohnGilmour--d'ye know him?--was out hunting a while ago, and he wrote mehe'd found the very place for me, somewhere south-east of Mount Kenya;he stuck a post in the ground to mark the spot, and I've the directionswritten down somewhere."
"Mount Kenya's a bit north-east of us, a hundred miles or so. Finecountry, too."
"And how do you get there?"
"Well, the ground's not exactly fit for motor-cars yet, and horses don'tthrive. You can get mules, but they're apt to be a trouble, so I guessyou'd better tramp it. You'll have to carry food with you, and a loadof 'trade' for the natives; we'll have to see about getting carriers foryou; you pay 'em about four rupees a month, and feed 'em. Their fooddon't cost much; you can get a hundredweight of native grain and redbeans for three or four rupees, and if you're good shots you can provideyourselves with plenty of meat on the way."
"There's no fear of trouble with the natives, I suppose?"
"Not if you don't go too far north. South of Kenya they're friendlyenough as a rule, but there are wild tribes on the east and north. Youmust have two porters who can shoot; Sniders they're used to; but don'tlet 'em use them except in case of necessity. Do all the game shootingyourselves, and keep a firm hand on the men; they'll play you all mannerof tricks if you don't. They're the queerest people God ever made,that's a fact. They'll desert at any moment and forfeit their pay, forno reason at all that we can understand. I could tell you of men who'llcarry a load of ninety pounds or more every day for a month on end, andthen all at once decamp, hundreds of miles away from their home, andwith no earthly chance of getting there. But you'll find 'em out foryourselves."
The talk lasted far into the night, Mr. Gillespie giving advice andretailing reminiscences of his own early days as a settler, which Johndrank in eagerly. Next day they set about collecting porters for thejourney. The news that a white man was going up country had alreadyspread through the native quarter of the town, and Mr. Gillespie'soffice was besieged by a great crowd of black men, representing a scoreof different races, all eager to join the stranger's "safari." Theexperience of the coffee-planter was very useful at this juncture, andthe Hallidays were quietly amused as he dismissed man after man withlittle ceremony and a curtness of speech which, had they understood it(he spoke in Swahili, the common vehicle of intercourse between Europeanand native), would have amused them still more. A little M'kamba wouldcome forward with a smile. "You're a thief; be off," said Mr.Gillespie, and the man went away, still smiling. A hulking Swahiliappears, a sullen look on his face. "You're always quarrelling; beoff," says Mr. Gillespie, and the Swahili retires, to join the crowd ofrejected. At length half-a-dozen men were selected, three Swahilis, ofwhom Coja ben Selim, a big, good-tempered-looking fellow, was to beheadman; and three Wakamba. Mr. Gillespie was doubtful whether so smalla safari would suffice; but Mr. Halliday was bent on economy; he arguedthat he could not in any case afford an escort large enough to cope witha serious native attack, and further, that a party of modest dimensionswas not so likely to provoke hostility as a large one. Moreover, heintended to pay only a flying visit to the site of his proposedsettlement, for the purpose of a preliminary survey. If he was pleasedwith the country, he intended to mark out the ground and put in anapplication to the Land Commissioner for a lease of a thousand acres orso. With luck, a month would suffice for this prospecting journey,which incidentally, as Mr. Gillespie informed him, would absolve himfrom paying registration fees on his porters, such fees only beingnecessary when they were engaged for two months or more.
It remained to hire a cook for the expedition.
"We don't need a cook," said Mr. Halliday. "I've roughed it oftenenough; we can do our own cooking."
"Man, you're a tenderfoot," said Mr. Gillespie, laughing. "You musthave a cook. Your men would all mutiny if you didn't. I don't meanthat he would cook for them; they'll have their own cooking-pots; butthey wouldn't obey you for a day if they saw you cooking for yourself.The first maxim for a white man in this country is: 'Never do a blackman's work.' Order your men about as much as you please, but _don't doanything_."
"But that's a doctrine of the dark ages. Confound it, man, that's thekind of thing we shook off centuries ago. I'm not a duke."
"That's just exactly what you are here. The natives will regard you astheir lord and master, and if you don't act up to the part--why, man, Ithink the Governor will expel you as an undesirable alien. In short,you must have a cook."
Here Mr. Gillespie's native servant came in to say that an Indiangentleman desired to see him.
"Send him in," said Mr. Gillespie, and there entered, suave and smiling,Said Mohammed, failed B.A. He bowed respectfully--a little toorespectfully, thought John--to his acquaintances of the day before;then, addressing himself to Mr. Gillespie, he said--
"Having learnt in the bazaar, sir, that the esteemed gentleman in whosecompany I had the honour to travel yesterday is engaging a safari, Iembrace the opportunity of submitting tender of my services inunremitting attention to the interior economy--soups, joints, sweets, etcetera, or, as one might say, _hoc genus omne_, as it were."
John opened his eyes. Apparently the failed B.A. was offering himselfas cook; but John thought he must be mistaken. Mr. Gillespie, however,after a stare at his visitor, said in a severely practical tone--
"You have experience?"
"Yes, sir, I am _experientia docet_ with several years' standing, andtestimonials galore. Videlicet, the Central Restaurant, sir, in London,continuously chock-a-block on curry day when my dishes, prepared Indianfashion, were the delight of city gents and ladies of prepossessingappearance who feed there regular as clock-work. In soup, joint, entreeI am a don; in sauce I am a wily adept."
"Come up to my bungalow and cook my dinner to-ni
ght," said Mr.Gillespie.
"Verree good, sir. The proof of the pudding is in the masticationthereof. Good-morning, sir, and assuring you of my best services at alltimes."
There was a laugh when Said Mohammed had gone.
"He'll never do," said Mr. Halliday.
"Man, if he's any good at all he'll be a perfect treasure," said Mr.Gillespie. "And you'll have to pay him fifty rupees a month."
"Near L3 a month for cooking?" cried Mr. Halliday. "Can't afford it."
"But, my dear sir, you can't get any sort of a cook here for less thanthirty rupees; and our failed B.A., if he's worth his salt, will beworth fifty. He will at least be clean; it's a part of his religion."
"Well, perhaps he's a failure all round. Anyway, we don't wantkickshaws, and a cheaper man will do all we need."
But the dinner at Mr. Gillespie's that night turned out excellent--wellcooked, well served, and varied though simple dishes.
"Faith, Halliday," said the host, "if you don't engage the man I'll takehim myself. That'll bring you up to the scratch if you've any Scotchblood left in you."
Whether it was due to this provocation or not, Mr. Halliday engaged SaidMohammed next day, for a month. Then, having been advised of theinexpediency of delay, which might be taken advantage of by his portersto desert, he decided to set off the same day, as soon as the hottesthours were past. He sent Said Mohammed into the bazaar to buy thenecessary amount of food-stuff for the natives; Mr. Gillespie undertookthe purchase of small quantities of "trade"--sheeting, coloured cloths,and beads for the most part; Mr. Halliday himself bought a small tent,provisions, blankets, rifles and ammunition, and a few cheap utensils.All these articles were sent up to the bungalow. At three o'clock SaidMohammed and the six porters arrived and set about packing up, under Mr.Gillespie's directions. Within an hour the loads were packed and placedin a line on the ground.
"Now, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie, "it's up to you. You must giveeach man his proper load, and don't be jockeyed."
There was a twinkle in his eye which Mr. Halliday detected.
"Are you setting a trap for me?" he asked.
"No, no, man; but as you're to be master, the sooner you feel your feetthe better."
Whereupon Mr. Halliday, who was not without courage as well as shrewdcommon-sense, instantly confided the tent and personal baggage to two ofthe three Swahilis, and distributed the remaining loads among the threeWakamba by a rough and ready estimate of their muscular capabilities.Then began what John called the "fun." The Swahilis accepted theirloads without a murmur; were they not the best fitted to carry the_bwana's_ belongings? But one of the Wakamba, a stout little fellowwith one eye, uttered a terrible wail when he lifted his bundle to hisback, and, letting it down again, began to expostulate in a torrent ofgibberish, of which the _bwana_, of course, understood not a word. Theothers instantly followed his example, and all three began to wrangleand gesticulate and abuse one another with a deafening clamour. It wasplain that every man wanted the load of somebody else. Mr. Hallidaylooked on calmly for a few moments, Mr. Gillespie curiously watching tosee what he would do, and placidly smoking a cigar without offering anysuggestion. Suddenly Mr. Halliday called to Coja ben Selim, theSwahili, and the only man whose name he knew.
"You're headman; settle it," he said calmly, turning on his heel. "Igive you five minutes."
The big Swahili instantly went among the Wakamba, cuffing them right andleft. In less than five minutes peace was restored, the Wakamba slungtheir loads to their backs, passing the long loop of raw hide aroundtheir foreheads; the Swahilis set theirs upon their heads; and the cryof "Safari! safari!" indicated that they were ready to be off.
"A capital start, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie. "Good luck to ye."
Mr. Halliday and John shook hands heartily with their host and hostess,and taking their rifles under their arm, set off after the littlecaravan, the leader of which had already started a marching song. SaidMohammed, carrying a little bundle of his own, brought up the rear, withCoja ben Selim.