On the morning succeeding our arrival at Maungu, every man of the caravan was weary and exhausted, through the toil and exhaustion of the previous thirty-six hours' continued march through the dried up wilderness. Their sinews were so stiff and inflexible that they could hardly move their torpid limbs. Never can the experiences of those two days and nights in the Taru desert fade from the memory of the carriers, who so bravely and firmly pressed forward through the inhospitable and arid jungle.
The one who seemed to suffer least in that progression through the trials and terrible experiences of the way, was my baby boy of fourteen weeks, whose smiling face and crowing notes often raised the hearts of the weary porters, and had a cheery and encouraging influence over the caravan.
Though sadly in need of further rest, we were obliged to move forward towards the course of the Voi river, where an abundant supply of water awaited us. Our path still lay through a waterless tract of country, in which the vegetation was more thin than that through which we had passed the two former days. Over the landscape rose here and there huge euphorbia trees, whose polygonal branches stretched out their long arms like giant chandeliers. Our rough, jagged track through the forest was very trying to the weary limbs of the porters, but they plodded on courageously under the scorching sun at a slow, steady pace; and, in the afternoon of the same day, were rewarded by seeing in the distance the long, dark green line of immense vegetation, which rose high above the surrounding stunted forest, indicating the moistened bed of the river Voi.
We reached the river some time before sunset, at a place where the waters divided in deltaic courses, rendering the work of fording much less difficult than it would have been some distance lower where the currents again converge into one main stream. In the act of crossing, several of our cases were dropped in the river, when the men lost their footing, while I and my baby were spattered with mud, as the two forward men of my carrying chair sank in the muddy bottom, and floundered about in their wild endeavors to free themselves. Our porters reveled in the flowing waters, and rejoiced in the fact that the dreary and thirsty desert was now left behind.
We pitched our camp amidst the labyrinthian recesses of the stunning tropical vegetation which bordered the river banks. While the tents were being pegged down, there were evident signs that the rainy season was upon us, and that drought would soon be no more. Heavy clouds came rolling up with that suddenness with which the equatorial rains are often ushered in, and, before the camp was fully prepared, the rain descended in torrents. Camp beds and bedding were still lying about, and some of these things got drenched with water. In a short time, floods, several inches deep, were rushing through the camp.
The porters had not yet collected fuel for the fires, and the night was fast coming upon us. Fortunately the heavy downpour soon subsided, and our men were then ordered to bring into camp large quantities of firewood, which, by this time, was well soaked with water. For the first time since leaving the Coast, the men were rather slow in obeying commands, and my husband found it necessary, in the interests of their own lives, to push them forcibly out of camp to bring in logs and fallen branches for the night.
The Coast porters become somewhat paralyzed and lethargic, when rain comes accompanied by a much lower temperature, and it is with great difficulty they are then driven to any work. They would, under such circumstances, die in camp and succumb to the rain and cold, rather than exert themselves to bring in firewood.
It is no unusual occurrence for several men of a caravan to die, during a rainy night, when they have not been compelled by the European to gather in large quantities of fuel, and keep up the fires until the morning. In one caravan camp, eleven porters were found lying dead in the morning, through neglecting to have a proper supply of firewood during a heavy rain storm. Huge fires must be sustained, and sufficient heat generated to turn the rain into steam, as it pours down in sheets, else the fires would be extinguished, and the porters perish. On this occasion, the shades of evening were closing around us before our camp fires were lighted, for, not only the wood, but the usual tinder was saturated with moisture, so that a large quantity of matches had to be used in kindling a fire.
We had in one airtight, zinc-lined box a stock of matches, sufficient for ordinary use for a period of eight years; and, fearing it might get lost, we had in addition a considerable quantity distributed through several other cases, so that, in any reasonable emergency, we might still have an available supply.
With the free use of these lucifers several large fires were soon burning, and the whole camp was lighted up by the flames, which rose eight to ten feet high, penetrating with their red glow every chink and cranny of the surrounding forest. Not one minute too soon, however, for shortly afterward the rain was falling, once again, in torrents; and our porters were already discussing among themselves which was the greater of the two evils, to be parched by the drought of the waterless wilderness, or deluged by the tropical rains of the interior.
Without doubt, we had now entered upon the Masika or rainy season of that region. After leaving the valley of the Voi, and threading our way through a maze of tangled undergrowth for a few miles, we emerged into a high, rolling plateau of open forest country, and ascended towards the highlands of Taita, which was the first inhabited district we met with since leaving the Duruma country.
Taita was to us a promised land. There, for the first time, we commenced to use our barter goods in exchange for food, of which we were in dire need, for that which our men had carried from the Coast was then absolutely gone. The camp was pitched in a beautiful, park-like district, under some large shady trees, at the base of the steep Taita mountains.
The Mtaita chief, with several of his elders, came down from the hills, bringing to us the very acceptable present of a large goat and some fat fowls. He was made supremely happy by my husband throwing over his naked shoulders a handsome Indian colored cloth. He was told that our men were anxious to obtain food, for which they would exchange beads, wire and calico, and that his people would find a ready market for any kind of grain or sweet potatoes they might bring to the camp. He and his elders were greatly astonished at seeing our young children, and oftentimes he covered his mouth with his open hand, as a mute expression of wonder at his first sight of the young white people who had come to visit his country. He went back to his people to tell them of all the strange things he had seen, and very soon the camp was in motion with numbers of lively women and maidens, who had brought large quantities of beans and millet, fowls and sugar-cane.
Our men had now forgotten, for the time being, the exhaustion of the long, trying marches of the dreary wilds through which they had passed, and the wretched experiences of the previous night's rain, and all were bubbling over with good temper and friendly spirits.
It was then Saturday afternoon, and we arranged to stay in camp over Sunday. It was necessary to purchase a large supply of food, for, on leaving that district, we were to strike off into uninhabited jungle again, and would not be able to reach another inhabited region before seven or eight days. We were more than pleased, however, with the quantity of food the natives carried into our camp that afternoon, for which they received an exchange with which they were highly delighted. Our children quite took to a small pulse called "podye" which, when well washed and boiled, was very acceptable, served with venison.
On that day we had not more than one hour's heavy rain, but there was no necessity for driving the men to bring in firewood. They had remembered the experience of the previous night, and on this occasion huge logs of dry wood were freely piled up in great heaps, near to our tent and throughout the camp.
When the sun went down and darkness closed around what a scene of animation the camp presented, as the frisky flames from the fires leaped upwards, revealing the lively forms of the rank and file of the caravan. Some of the men preparing their evening meal, while others, who had earned their rest by bringing in firewood from the surrounding forest, or water from the mountain stream, lay at full length, munching with their great white teeth some of the sugar cane, which had been so freely purchased from the Wataita. On Sunday morning, the much needed rest was fully enjoyed by all. My husband preached in the Swahili language to our one hundred and twenty caravan men in the camp. The majority of them were nominal Muslims, who had been slaves of Coast Arabs, but everyone gladly gathered together and listened attentively to the Message. The way in which my husband began to talk to them at once disarmed their prejudice, and made every man feel that they and the preacher were mortal beings, confronted with the same problems of life and destiny, and that all alike needed a mighty Savior. At times, an animated smile would flit over their dusky features as some telling phrase was brought home to them with power; and, again, their serious, penetrating gaze would reveal the fact that God's message of redeeming love was being thoughtfully considered.
My husband spoke the Swahili language as fluently as his own, and, several times a week on the way up country, had impromptu Gospel meetings at night, after the men had partaken of their evening meal. These heart-to-heart talks, and they proved a great blessing. On the morning after our day's rest, our track lay through a stretch of thick forest, towards the course of the river Tsavo. Our men were then getting into better marching form, and we made splendid progress. Contrary to our usual custom, we ordered a halt at midday, owing to our children being rather hungry, as their morning repast had been partaken of before dawn by candlelight. While the porters were enjoying their rest, a fire was made by our cook, and in less than half an hour the kettle had boiled, and we were sitting round a cheering cup of refreshing tea and some biscuits.
We had little idea of what was happening at that moment in the forest, within thirty to forty minutes' march of where we sat, but on that afternoon there was brought very vividly before our minds one of the many marvelous providences of God.
We were soon on the move once again in a drenching thunder-shower. After we had proceeded for some time through the forest, our Kilangozi (guide) suddenly stopped the forward part of the caravan, and sent a rushed message for my husband to come up. When we arrived at the place where the men were standing, we found them all in an evident state of excitement, giving vent to suppressed ejaculations of "Masai! Masai!" It was plain to be seen that a numerous body of these plundering warriors had crossed our path, after the recent thunder-shower, for their tracks had been made in the sand since the rain had fallen. Their numbers were large, probably one thousand strong, for an exceedingly wide trail was beaten down in the forest by their countless footprints.
On that particular day we had been providentially led to make a fire and boil the kettle—quite an unusual thing with us on the march—and were thus delayed half an hour or more. Had it not been for this detention, our weak caravan would have met them in the teeth, and, in all human probability, we should have been murdered to a man by these fierce and bloodthirsty marauders.
It is very difficult to get the Coast natives, though armed with rifles, to make any defense against these bold and fearless natives of the interior. For generations they have been the terror of many weaker tribes. In their cattle-lifting and murdering expeditions, they have even reached the Coast districts which have been for centuries under Arab protection, and cleared the region of cattle, dealing death to the timid and unresisting natives.
On one of these Coast raids they murdered two unsuspecting Missionaries, who were engaged in building a little meeting house in the Galla country. The Masai entered their camp early in the morning; and, while the Missionary was seeking protect his wife, one of the natives thrust his long eight-foot spear through her side, and she dropped dead. The Missionary attempted to strike the man who had thus slain his young wife before his eyes, but three spears were immediately plunged into his own body, and he fell in the dust beside his dead wife.
On the day of our providential deliverance from that raiding multitude, we had a great deal of trouble in preventing our porters from deserting the caravan. They were terribly frightened, and mortal fear was depicted on many of their faces. They believed that the Masai were aware of our presence, and that they had determined to come upon us unexpectedly during the night, when settled down in camp. To prevent any of the men from secretly running away, my husband ordered that the caravan was to march in close file, and that no porter should leave the ranks under any reason at all. If delay was under any circumstance necessary, either for the rearranging of a load or any other purpose, the entire caravan was to stop on the pathway, until all could again move forward in one unbroken line.
When we got near to our camping place, the morale of our carriers was not improved, for close to the bed of the river Tsavo, in an open place in the forest, the skulls and bones of human beings were lying in great numbers. We heard that, on that spot, the Masai had previously surrounded and annihilated a caravan of men. We passed by the terrible scene of deadly slaughter, and forded the river, which was about three feet deep, determined to pitch on the further bank. There we found a large, circular fence of thorn bushes, fully six to eight feet high, with one narrow entrance, where either the slayers or the slain had probably encamped. Orders were given that the men should camp inside this thorny stockade, and the loads be stacked there, and that our tent was to be pitched outside the fence, covering the contracted entrance. My husband told the affrighted carriers that he would take the responsibility of defending the camp that night. Such a bold stroke gave considerable confidence to the men, and after an abundance of fuel and water had been brought in for the night, the porters settled down to cook their food.
For two reasons we were especially thankful that, on this occasion, the porters were enclosed in such a strong zareba. Within this high barrier, they themselves felt more secure from a sudden onslaught of the spears of the Masai, while we were fairly well ensured against the desertion of our men during the night, as our tent blocked the only exit from the enclosure, and no one could remove the thorns to make a passage through the fence, without attracting the attention of some of our headmen, who were instructed to be on the watch.
There was very little sleep that night for anyone. The excitement of the day, and the expectation of an attack at night, were not very helpful to sleep. Apart from this, the frequent, depressed grunt of the panther, and the continued bellowing roar of the lion, which was bowled out with enormous, penetrating power around our forest camp, was enough to drive sleep from the most sleepy of the caravan. Appointed sentinels patrolled the camp until gray dawn, but we were left unmolested, and the night was passed in safety.
At the call of the morning whistle, ere the eastern sky was brushed with red, we struck camp, and were soon wending our way in a north-westerly direction, through some open bush country, where animals were fairly plentiful, and the footprints of carnivores were often seen.
After a few days' further march, the supply of grain was getting low with our porters, and they were very anxious that the Bwana (Sir/Master) should shoot some antelope for them. My husband was unwilling to do this on the march, as it would delay considerably the progress of the caravan. It would have been quite desirable, however, to have shot some meat for them in the neighborhood of the camp, when the day's march was over; but with such a large caravan to command, and so much to be done before nightfall, it was not found convenient to go out hunting, and the animals never seemed prone to be helpful enough to carry their living bodies within shooting distance of our camp. In fact, the noise and commotion of the men, while engaged in pitching tents, and bringing in firewood and water, were enough to drive away any animals which might have been pasturing in the area.
However, one afternoon, after arriving in camp, he agreed to their request, as they were on short allowance, and, taking with him a couple of men, he went out to look for something for the pot.
In the course of half an hour, we heard the crack of the rifle, and very soon a man came running in with beaming face, bearing the news that the master had shot a zebra and wanted a dozen of men to bring in the meat. There was no difficulty in getting volunteers. Twice the number required rushed off with gleaming knives in their hands, and shortly afterward returned with loads of tender zebra flesh to the rejoicing camp.
The caravan porters are usually bright and lighthearted when their work for the day is done, but on this evening they quite excelled themselves. They played and gamboled about like young kids, and every remark was choking full of native wit and amusement. There were feasts and festal fires in the bush that night, and there was no necessity whatever for any anxiety about adding meat to the burdens of the overladen porters on the next day's march, for the zebra completely disappeared that evening, with the exception of a few bare bones, which were left behind in the camp to be crunched by the hyenas.
For several days we marched through hilly, woodland country, which rose and fell with every mile of the track. The crests of the hills were covered with scrubby forest, and the deep defiles, dividing the elevations, were clothed with gigantic, umbrageous growth. In the rainy season, which was then upon us, every valley was a well nigh impassable mess, rendering progression slow, difficult and backbreaking. Day after day we were at best ankle deep in water, and, on low lying ground, the limbs of the porters often sank one to two feet deep in the slimy and viscid mud, and, as every foot was withdrawn, there was the clap of air entering the footprint. Sometimes, from the early morning till the hour of camping in the afternoon, the tropical downpour never ceased to fall, and every article of clothing upon the children and ourselves was dripping with water all the way. A continual stream of water ran down between our clothes and our skin, and, at every footstep, was jetting out of our boots. Even on hilly stretches of jungle, the narrow path through the forest became a river, through which we plowed boot deep. Often were we obliged to lie between mattresses and blankets which had been saturated with moisture, and nightly had we to dry the children's clothing at the camp fire or, if the rain continued, over the red embers, brought inside the tent.
These terrible conditions could not but have resulted in serious illness, had it not been for God's protecting care and providence which in grace overshadowed our path.
On a sloping, wooded hillside we came once more upon another awful scene of carnage, which seemed horribly out of place with the natural surroundings, and so much out of harmony with those beautiful solitudes of God. Fresh looking skulls and bones of human beings covered the ground for a considerable distance, and, judging from the pieces of war implements and remains around the camp, we readily concluded that the dreaded Masai had come upon a caravan interior, and wiped them out, taking their goats and cattle.
The terrible sight of human slaughter struck fresh terror into the hearts of our men, and their fears of becoming the victims of a similar disaster seemed to weigh heavily upon their minds. They imagined that they saw Masai warriors behind almost every bush in the jungle. We were once more confronted with the probability that some of our men would run away, rather than meet the dangers which lay ahead in facing the spear-armed plunderers. Strict watch was kept during the night, so that the enemy might not be able to approach without being heard, and that our fear stricken porters might be prevented from deserting the camp during the hours of darkness.
These precautions were taken none too soon, for in the morning, when the roll was called, twelve men were missing, with rifles, accessories, food and cooking pots. This was to us a very serious matter as our one hundred and twenty carriers were barely sufficient for the porterage of our loads, and, on several occasions, our few pack donkeys, kept as transport reserve, had to be requisitioned for the carrying of the loads of disabled and sick porters.
Two courses only were open to us. On the one hand a supply could be left, and the dozen loads, whose carriers had deserted, could be thus hidden; but the trouble and expense involved in sending a caravan from the distant interior to fetch up these buried loads would be very considerable, while, in the meantime, we might suffer much from the need of them, as we had nothing but absolutely necessary supplies with us. On the other hand, an attempt could be made to hunt up and capture the runaways. If this were not done, a very bad example would be given to the porters, and the remainder might go off in batches at the sign of approaching danger, and thus, in the end, bring certain destruction to the caravan.
My husband decided that every attempt should be made to discover and arrest the runaway men. He proclaimed a halt for the day and, calling into line the most faithful of his men, he placed them with the headmen under my charge, instructing them to look after the safety of the caravan, and to allow no porter outside the grounds of the camp while he was away in search of the deserters. He then disarmed the rest of the porters, and had the rifles stacked in a tent, under guard. After a little time of prayer to God for guidance, he took six of the fleetest and most strong of his men and a long coil of rope; and, saying goodbye to me and the children, he started off on his search for the renegades.
To me, it was like a wild-goose chase, and I feared to think of what might be the result. Neither he nor I knew how far he might have to go, or when he might return. I could not help thinking that the Masai might come upon him, and murder him and his few followers. After he was away for a short time, I felt wholeheartedly the defenseless situation in which I was placed, with my little children in the midst of the jungle; and then of his still more dangerous position, with only half a dozen men. I had the most unspoken faith in his judgment, for I never knew anyone who had such wisdom in dealing with the natives. It was, to him, a gift from God. But how he could manage to catch twelve men with six porters I could not tell, and, indeed, none of the men in camp thought that he would be successful in catching them.
The children and I knelt down together, and commended to God their father, who was risking his life in going back over the tracks of the Masai. To the little ones it was only a day of rest in camp, and the hours passed happily by in their childish joy, while amused with the crawling insect life around them, and absorbed with the beauties of the surrounding hills, which were covered with various colors of plant life, amidst which strange birds chirped and tiny monkeys played.
Due to the significant work which fell into my care, the long anxious day passed more rapidly than I had anticipated, and when the shades of night fell upon the camp, there was no sign whatever of my husband's return. I felt unwilling to put the elder children to rest while my mind was filled with so much uncertainty as to what might be the outcome of his dangerous journey. The porters, who had been very faithful during the day, told me that I could not expect the Bwana to return with so few men in the darkness of the night.
Nearly four hours had gone since the sun had gone down, and, as final preparations for the night were being made, the report of a rifle was heard in the distance, and very soon my husband marched into camp, with his twelve runaways tied together about a yard apart with a strong rope. A great shout arose from the men, when the fugitives arrived in their midst, and many were the exclamations, in the Swahili language, "Hawawezi danganya Bwana huyu!" (They were not able to cheat this man!)
My husband had tracked the men for twenty miles, and eventually found them resting in the bush, and, surprising them suddenly, he took possession of their rifles and cartridge belts, and ordered them to fall into line. He then had them tied together and the return march was immediately begun, so that the search party covered forty miles on foot that day.
When the men were brought in, they were at once untied, and no punishment whatever administered to them. My husband showed no fear in any way that the loosing of the men, and thus trusting them, would result in a second similar escape. He seemed to have the unusual talent of knowing the best course of action to adopt in the midst of crucial and critical circumstances.
He had a deep, abiding love for the natives, and could discern, underneath their deceitfulness and trickery, many commendable and lovable traits of character. The keen, sharp eye ever sought out and aided the weak and ailing. If, however, some schemer came to him, pretending illness as an excuse for not being able to carry his load, he was very quick to detect the deception, and would make use of some word, which would expose the imposter and send him back to his load, in the middle of the laughter of the whole camp.
On the march, and when work was to be done, he was their absolute leader, guiding and directing them by a word, sometimes by a mere look of his eye. When the day's labor was ended, and they were all camped for the night, he was their companion and friend, and always had for them a joyful, good-humored comment, which gladdened their lives, and sent a thrill of good feeling through the camp.
There was one deep thought which moved and controlled his behavior towards them. They were part of the great harvest field, yet to be reaped: the wandering sheep that had yet to be gathered in. For them the Savior died. His love could reach them, and the Holy Spirit could regenerate their lives, and make them new creatures in Christ Jesus.