CHAPTER IX.

AN ANXIOUS PERIOD.

BELIEVING myself to be secure for the present in Mandara's friendship, I resolved without further delay to send eighteen of my thirty Zanzibaris to Sir John Kirk at Zanzibar, whither they could carry my first collections of the fauna and flora of Kilima-njaro, and my despatches laying before him the then existing state of affairs. Moreover, inasmuch as I found my paucity of men a great obstacle in pursuing my investigations and an altogether false economy, I desired Kiongwe, my head-man, who went in charge of this caravan, to recruit for me thirty or forty stout fellows in Zanzibar and bring them back with him, together with a further supply of necessary goods.

Eighteen was a small number of men to send along the Pangani route to Zanzibar, but fortunately, just as they were setting out on the journey, Thomson's friend, Jumba Kimemeta, arrived at Mandara's (I am sorry to say to purchase slaves 1), and offered to escort them all the way to the town of Pangani. I gladly accepted, but as the men were ready I did not like to keep them hanging about idle in my settlement, so I sent them on by themselves to Taveita to join Kimemeta there.

He was, however, a good fellow and a good friend to me, and only acted after his own lights.

Most fortunate was it that I did so. Jumba Kimemeta started from Moši a day or two afterwards, with the slaves purchased from Mandara. The Masai, knowing this, lay in wait for him, attacked his caravan, routed it, and Jumba only escaped by the skin of his teeth, losing slaves, oxen, and goods. Had my men been with him, they would certainly have abandoned the collections, and then robody in England would have believed me when I explained their loss.

Kiongwe was supposed to occupy a fortnight in journeying to the coast, the same time in returning, while his work in Zanzibar would hardly oblige him to remain there longer than a week or ten days; consequently in six weeks at the most I might expect his arrival in Moši with the reinforcement of men and goods.

Nevertheless it was with some presentiment of coming difficulties that I bade him farewell on the morning of July 11th, and watched his little band slowly wending their way out of my sight into the distant plain. Yet he must be sent some time or other, and the present moment seemed the most propitious.

After he had gone and my band of men was reduced to twelve, including all hands, trouble was not long in coming. My chief collector, Mabruki, had begun to grow very exacting. He received nearly double the wages of my invaluable Indian servant and considerably more than the other Swahili porters. His food allowance was also specially increased, and he might have had anything in reason for the asking: not that he was a good collector-far from it but then he was better than nobody and, moreover, was a very fair shot with the rifle. He enjoyed, indeed, sallying out into

the lower country near the base of the mountain and stalking antelopes, but this was not what I wanted him to do. I preferred that he should go up the mountain and collect there. He soon began to grow dissatisfied and became a continual grumbler. When Kiongwe was preparing to go to the coast he asked leave to accompany him, pleading business of his own to settle. I thought this utterly unreasonable, and knew the excuse of private business was only meant to cover some other purpose. At any rate, I reminded him of his contract and held him to it. This only increased his sulkiness, and he began to listen to the suggestions of Mandara's Swahilis, who were trying actively to ruin me by causing the desertion of my men. They persuaded Mabruki that if he left me and entered Mandara's service, he might become a great man. They pointed out how lucrative the slave-trading business was, and how Mandara needed a man like him to transact his business on the coast. Mabruki was won over and only sought an excuse for breaking with me. It was not long in coming. I found him one morning returning from Mandara's town, when I had sent him to a particular valley to collect. He had not a bird or a flower to offer as an excuse. Nor did he try to excuse himself. When I began to scold him, he said quietly, "That is enough; I don't care for this work, I have found something better to do: give me my food allowance and let me return to the coast." Like a simpleton, I believed he intended to join Kiongwe, who had not long started, so I gave him goods to buy food for a fortnight, lent him a gun and ammunition, paid him the balance of his wages and let him go. The other collector, Athmani, who was his slave, accompanied him. Having got out of me all he could,

he then turned his steps, not coastwards, but to Mandara's court. Here the Swahilis at once led him to the chief and said "Now, you wouldn't believe us when we told you this white man was bad; listen then to what his own servants say." Accordingly Mabruki

and Athmani sat down and told Mandara-not a string of falsehoods-but a number of inconvenient truths so coloured with malicious interpretation as to be in Mandara's eyes the most damning of accusations. They revealed to him that I had a beautiful elephantgun (which had certainly been kept from Mandara's covetous gaze), and detailed, in fact, the entire contents of my armoury-so many sporting guns, so many Sniders, cases of cartridges, kegs of powder, bags of shot. They did not explain that these were brought with a view to the slaughter of birds and beasts and for purposes of just defence, but hinted that these weapons were intended to overawe the chief of Moši and take possession of his country. "Well, but," interposed Mandara,2 "how could he do that when I have 1000 soldiers and he only ten?" "Don't you understand?" the traitors replied; "he has sent Kiongwe to Zanzibar to bring back many soldiers-" "Forty," interposed Mandara. "Ah, he says forty to you, but how do you know what he may not have written in the letters? No, now is the time to crush him, before his reinforcements come." "But the Baloza, what will he say?" "How do you know whether the Baloza really sent him?" "Why, he brought letters-" "Yes, and read them himself-none of your men can read." Mandara here produced the two epistles, and remarked that the seal of the Consulate was on them. This

2 It was from him that I afterwards heard an account of this conversation.

rather baffled Mabruki, but Athmani took another tone. "What does it matter if you do take away all his goods -he has broken faith with you, he has concealed from you many of his possessions." "Well, but if he fights for them and is killed, what will the Baloza say then, when he sends to ask for his news?"

answer that he has gone away to and you know no more of him. you?"

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Why, you will just the Masai country Who can contradict "And the Aruša-ruša (fireworks) ?" "All harmless, children's playthings."

Poor Mandara was racked with indecision. On the one hand the Swahili courtiers had been poisoning his mind for days past by representing that my views as to slavery and my displays of fireworks and other potent magic had powerfully impressed the minds of the common people and had seriously impaired Mandara's authority; on the other hand, a remnant of the friendly feeling I had once inspired still lingered in his mind. He coveted my goods with all the intensity of his savage desires-think what the possession of an elephantgun would do to raise his prestige in the eyes of the neighbouring chiefs!—and the European bed, so smart and clean-and the silver forks and spoons-but no! I was his guest, I was the sacred" mgeni," the strangerfriend from whom nothing must be taken by force, or God would be enraged. Still, why did I keep so many guns and so much ammunition? Was it for peaceful ends, or was the plea of sport a hollow pretext? Was this white man black at heart after all? Did he really intend to send for soldiers to Zanzibar that he might seize the land and be master of it. Clearly it were

better to get rid of him quietly while he was weak and without supporters. No wrong should be done, but the white man must go.