I have read this book many years ago.

And I am reading it again here in Verbier, Switzerland.

Had to run back home from hiking in the mountains as a rain storm started pouring down.

I finished the Selous book on lions, it is very short.



So that I was no novice when, in the end of November 1893, I landed once more in Mombasa, this time prepared to at last carry out my long-cherished scheme for making an independent expedition with my own caravan into the interior, the main object of which should be elephant-hunting.

I hoped by this means to recoup myself through the ivory for the outlay incurred in following my bent of wandering in the most remote wilds I could reach. My weapons were a double .577 (which I had already once had the opportunity of testing on elephants, with good results), a single .450 — both these by Gibbs, — a .250 rook rifle, and a shot-gun.

This last I afterwards discarded as unnecessary, while its cartridges were an encumbrance. To these I added a common Martini-Henry.

I know by experience that the routine of organising and fitting out an expedition, expedition, starting it from the coast, and even the first part of the journey itself make uninteresting reading, and anything that I may think worth mentioning on these subjects I can more conveniently allude to elsewhere; I will, therefore, not worry my readers with tedious preliminaries of the kind now, beyond saying that in one month I was ready with about fifty men (all of whom I armed with Snider carbines) and some twenty donkeys to start for the "bara" or interior, with the intention of getting as far as I could and being away as long as I liked.

That was, I consider, a short time to take in all the preparations necessary. Mombasa did not offer many facilities for getting work done, and I had brought nothing but my guns and cartridges with me; but porters were plentiful, and I was known to them, not unfavourably — my very Swahili name, "Nyama Yangu" (my meat or my game), being suggestive of good times.

My headman was not altogether a happy selection. He was a most polite, polished, and picturesque Swahili gentleman of Arab descent, but not very practical. Plucky he was, as I afterwards found, but somewhat procrastinating and over punctilious about strict Mahomedan observances to be altogether suitable to the rough-and-ready life we had to lead.

Owing partly to this not too suitable appointment, some undesirable men got "written on" as porters. There are abuses in the manner of engaging these men; and if not very carefully looked after, the wily rupee plays an important but indiscriminating part in their choice, quite unconnected with any useful qualifications.

The result became apparent pretty soon, but not, fortunately, on any very serious scale. Our start, two days before Christmas, was most smooth and propitious. The men all turned up, and never was there a happier and more enthusiastic lot of porters nor, for the most part, a finer.

Two or three desertions took place a day or two after, causing a little temporary inconvenience, and one gentleman took the belt containing my watch with him, which had been hung on a bush behind me while I was seeing the caravan off in the dusk. But strange to say — whether because his conscience pricked him or that he could not sell what it was so apparent he must have stolen — he came back of his own accord, watch and all, a few days later. I forgave him, and he was a faithful and reliable man for the rest of the trip.

I had decided to make Laiju — a district on the north side of the Tana, and close to the foot of the Njambeni or Jambeni range, which is a little east of Mount Kenia — my first objective point, and to get as much farther north in the direction of Lake Rudolph as I should be able, or as circumstances might seem to make desirable.

I ventured to disregard advice to take the Tana River route — involving a sea voyage, a fresh organisation, and a journey through difficult and unhealthy "fly"-infested bush all the way, with little useful help from canoes (which could not take animals) against the stream — and elected for the overland one through Northern Ukambani.

But I made the mistake of going round by Kibwezi on the Uganda road, instead of following the more direct and convenient path used by Swahili traders and Wakamba visiting the coast.

At the little German mission station of Ikutha, where one enters Ukambani, I passed the last outpost of civilisation in this direction. I have reason to feel the greatest gratitude to its hospitable head (Mr. Sauberlich) for many kindnesses and ready assistance in various ways. Shortly after leaving there I met Mr. Chanler returning to the coast.

I had already had the advantage of some talks with Lieutenant Von Hohnel (previously Count Teleki's companion) in Mombasa, who had been hurt by a rhinoceros while travelling in his company, and from both these gentlemen I received much useful information. I had long previously, though, heard of Laiju and the Ndorobo country beyond from Swahili traders as a good one for elephants, and resolved to make that direction my aim, and as much farther as I could attain.

It had the special attraction for me that the country that way was least known, and I was not likely to be hampered by rival travellers, official or otherwise, there. Chanler gave me a little half-bred terrier, named "Frolic," which proved a charming little companion, and continued so until her sad death on another expedition.

Accordingly, the next day I did not go out. A number of the Mthara "elders," as well as many young men, came, bringing small offerings of food.

I had a great "shauri" with them, and they seemed very well disposed. Of course they tried at first to get me to stump up something in the shape of "hongo" or tribute, as Swahili traders are in the habit of paying for the privilege of entering each district, though they do not visit this particular part at all, on account of the bad name the natives have; but I told them distinctly I could not consent to this, as it was not the white man's custom.


I said that any presents I might give must be of my own free will; no demands could I entertain. I wanted to shoot elephants: if they wished to have them shot, I would be glad of their help and guidance. On the other hand, if they did not wish me to shoot near their gardens, well and good; there were elephants elsewhere, and natives anxious anxious that I should go and shoot them: nothing would I pay for permission to hunt.

They at once gave in, and said they would willingly guide me, and that the whole tribe — old men, young men, women, and children — were most anxious to make me their friend, and they would like to clinch the friendship by making "blood brotherhood" with me. I consented; and after much parley it was agreed I should wait here the next day and go through the ceremony formally with them. The arrangement suited me, as I was quite unfit to hunt, and knew I should only lay myself up for a much longer time if I attempted to walk again before, at soonest, the day but one after.

Altogether — though the delay was tantalising with elephants close by, as they were reported to be, and my getting footsore just at the very time when my luck seemed to have taken a favourable turn, after so long a period of patience and disappointment, was truly heart-breaking — things seemed turning out propitiously, and I had great hopes of favourable results in the near future. The next day the great ceremony of "eating blood"1 was performed.

During the whole performance I had to sit in a swamp, sandwiched between two very unwashed savages, necessitating a bath and change directly it was over. It is a very unpleasant ordeal, but I went bravely through it, much to the satisfaction of the admiring crowds of savages.

I gave small presents to many, and rather larger ones to my two new "brothers" (sons of the principal head men of the tribe), and received numerous calabashes of rather good though thick native beer, etc. These people always remained loyal to the bond, and my elder brother, "Ndaminuki," has been most useful many times to me and mine, as well as subsequently, at my instigation, to a German traveller, Dr. Kolb. Everything went off satisfactorily, and it was arranged that I was to be shown the haunts of the elephants the following morning, a herd of which was said to be still in the bush adjoining the cultivated lands. My feet were still very sore, but I felt that I must walk somehow.

I have not thought it necessary to describe in detail this rather disgusting rite — it has been done by others — but "eating blood" is literally a true definition of it.

The principals have to eat a drop of each other's blood, taken from an incision in the chest, with which a bit of roasted meat (cut from the heart of an animal specially sacrificed with many curious superstitious observances) has been smeared.

I've been to a couple of the exact places Neumann passed through - namely where the Tana meets the Rojiwero (formerly Mackenzie river in Neumann's day) and futher upstream on the Kindani river where he camped. This is in today's Meru park. Lovely country still.

Another great read….
I enjoyed this book.

I love all the old books. This one is very good.