The Man-Eaters of Tsavo, and Other East African Adventures
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Title: The Man-Eaters of Tsavo, and Other East African Adventures
Author: J. H. Patterson
Commentator: Frederick Courteney Selous
Release date: March 1, 2003 [eBook #3810]
Most recently updated: January 9, 2021
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO, AND OTHER EAST AFRICAN ADVENTURES ***
Produced by Charles Hall. HTML version by Al Haines.
THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO AND Other East African Adventures
BY
Lieut.-Col. J. H. Patterson, D.S.O.
WITH A FOREWORD BY FREDERICK COURTENEY SELOUS
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
PREFACE
It is with feelings of the greatest diffidence that I place the
following pages before the public; but those of my friends who happen
to have heard of my rather unique experiences in the wilds have so
often urged me to write an account of my adventures, that after much
hesitation I at last determined to do so.
I have no doubt that many of my readers, who have perhaps never been
very far away from civilisation, will be inclined to think that some of
the incidents are exaggerated. I can only assure them that I have toned
down the facts rather than otherwise, and have endeavoured to write a
perfectly plain and straightforward account of things as they actually
happened.
It must be remembered that at the time these events occurred, the
conditions prevailing in British East Africa were very different from
what they are to-day. The railway, which has modernised the aspect of
the place and brought civilisation in its train, was then only in
process of construction, and the country through which it was being
built was still in its primitive savage state, as indeed, away from the
railway, it still is.
If this simple account of two years' work and play in the wilds should
prove of any interest, or help even in a small way to call attention to
the beautiful and valuable country which we possess on the Equator, I
shall feel more than compensated for the trouble I have taken in
writing it.
I am much indebted to the Hon. Mrs. Cyril Ward, Sir Guilford
Molesworth, K.C.I.E., Mr. T.J. Spooner and Mr C. Rawson for their
kindness in allowing me to reproduce photographs taken by them. My
warmest thanks are also due to that veteran pioneer of Africa, Mr. F.C.
Selous, for giving my little book so kindly an introduction to the
public as is provided by the "Foreword" which he has been good enough
to write.
J.H.P. August, 1907.
FOREWORD
It was some seven or eight years ago that I first read, in the pages of
The Field newspaper, a brief account written by Col. J.H. Patterson,
then an engineer engaged on the construction of the Uganda Railway, of
the Tsavo man-eating lions.
My own long experience of African hunting told me at once that every
word in this thrilling narrative was absolutely true. Nay more: I knew
that the author had told his story in a most modest manner, laying but
little stress on the dangers he had run when sitting up at nights to
try and compass the death of the terrible man-eaters, especially on
that one occasion when whilst watching from a very light scaffolding,
supported only by four rickety poles, he was himself stalked by one of
the dread beasts. Fortunately he did not lose his nerve, and succeeded
in shooting the lion, just when it was on the point of springing upon
him. But had this lion approached him from behind, I think it would
probably have added Col. Patterson to its long list of victims, for in
my own experience I have known of three instances of men having been
pulled from trees or huts built on platforms at a greater height from
the ground than the crazy structure on which Col. Patterson was
watching on that night of terrors.
From the time of Herodotus until to-day, lion stories innumerable have
been told and written. I have put some on record myself. But no lion
story I have ever heard or read equals in its long-sustained and
dramatic interest the story of the Tsavo man-eaters as told by Col.
Patterson. A lion story is usually a tale of adventures, often very
terrible and pathetic, which occupied but a few hours of one night; but
the tale of the Tsavo man-eaters is an epic of terrible tragedies
spread out over several months, and only at last brought to an end by
the resource and determination of one man.
It was some years after I read the first account published of the Tsavo
man-eaters that I made the acquaintance of President Roosevelt. I told
him all I remembered about it, and he was so deeply interested in the
story--as he is in all true stories of the nature and characteristics
of wild animals--that he begged me to send him the short printed
account as published in The Field. This I did; and it was only in the
last letter I received from him that, referring to this story,
President Roosevelt wrote: "I think that the incident of the Uganda
man-eating lions, described in those two articles you sent me, is the
most remarkable account of which we have any record. It is a great pity
that it should not be preserved in permanent form." Well, I am now glad
to think that it will be preserved in permanent form; and I venture to
assure Col. Patterson that President Roosevelt will be amongst the most
interested readers of his book.
It is probable that the chapters recounting the story of the Tsavo
man-eating lions will be found more absorbing than the other portions
of Col. Patterson's book; but I think that most of his readers will
agree with me that the whole volume is full of interest and
information. The account given by Col. Patterson of how he overcame all
the difficulties which confronted him in building a strong and
permanent railway bridge across the Tsavo river makes excellent
reading; whilst the courage he displayed in attacking, single-handed,
lions, rhinoceroses and other dangerous animals was surpassed by the
pluck, tact and determination he showed in quelling the formidable
mutiny which once broke out amongst his native Indian workers.
Finally, let me say that I have spent the best part of two nights
reading the proof-sheets of Col. Patterson's book, and I can assure him
that the time passed like magic. My interest was held from the first
page to the last, for I felt that every word I read was true.
F. C. SELOUS.
WORPLESDON, SURREY.
September 18, 1907.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I MY ARRIVAL AT TSAVO 1
CHAPTER II THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE MAN-EATERS 20
CHAPTER III THE ATTACK ON THE GOODS-WAGON 29
CHAPTER IV THE BUILDING OF THE TSAVO BRIDGE 41
CHAPTER V TROUBLES WITH THE WORKMEN 50
CHAPTER VI THE REIGN OF TERROR 61
CHAPTER VII THE DISTRICT OFFICER'S NARROW ESCAPE 75
CHAPTER VIII THE DEATH OF THE FIRST MAN-EATER 84
CHAPTER IX THE DEATH OF THE SECOND MAN-EATER 95
CHAPTER X THE COMPLETION OF THE TSAVO BRIDGE 108
CHAPTER XI THE SWAHILI AND OTHER NATIVE TRIBES 119
CHAPTER XII A NIGHT AFTER HIPPO 133
CHAPTER XIII A DAY ON THE N'DUNGU ESCARPMENT 145
CHAPTER XIV THE FINDING OF THE MAN-EATERS' DEN 155
CHAPTER XV UNSUCCESSFUL RHINO HUNTS 168
CHAPTER XVI A WIDOW'S STORY 176
CHAPTER XVII AN INFURIATED RHINO 182
CHAPTER XVIII LIONS ON THE ATHI PLAINS 193
CHAPTER XIX THE STRICKEN CARAVAN 210
CHAPTER XX A DAY ON THE ATHI RIVER 221
CHAPTER XXI THE MASAI AND OTHER TRIBES 231
CHAPTER XXII HOW ROSHAN KHAN SAVED MY LIFE 247
CHAPTER XXIII A SUCCESSFUL LION HUNT 264
CHAPTER XXIV BHOOTA'S LAST SHIKAR 273
CHAPTER XXV A MAN-EATER IN A RAILWAY CARRIAGE 286
CHAPTER XXVI WORK AT NAIROBI 293
CHAPTER XXVII THE FINDING OF THE NEW ELAND 300
APPENDIX 323
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Heads of Eight Lions shot by the Author
in British East Africa Frontispiece
Mombasa, from the Harbour 1
The Native Quarter, Mombasa 2
"Well-wooded hills and slopes on the mainland" 3
Vasco da Gama Street and Pillar 5
"The best way to get three ... was by gharri 6
"I pitched my tent under some shady palms" 7
"Kilindini is on the opposite side of the island" 10
"The Place of Deep Waters" 11
"A lucky shot brought down the huge bird" 14
"I slept that night in a little palm hut" 15
"This interminable nyika" 17
"The river crossed by means of a temporary bridge" 18
Women of Uganda 19
The tent from which jemadar Ungan Singh was carried off 23
"My own tent was pitched in an open clearing" 29
"We shared a hut of palm leaves and boughs" 30
"The camps of the workmen had also been surrounded
by thorn fences" 31
"Railhead Camp, with its two or three thousand workmen" 33
"The two wounded coolies were left where they lay, a piece of
torn tent having fallen over them" 35
"A luncheon served in the wilds, with occasionally a friend
to share it" 43
"It very soon became a great pet" 46
"Heera Singh made a wild spring into the water to get clear
of the falling stone" 47
"The door which was to admit the lion" 62
"When the trap was ready, I pitched a tent over it" 64
"They found him stuck fast in the bushes of the boma" 70
"Perched on the top of water-tanks" 73
"I took up my position in a crib made of sleepers" 77
Whitehead on a Trolley at the exact spot where the Lion
jumped upon him 79
Abdullah and his two Wives 80
A party of Wa Jamousi 83
"His length from tip of nose to tip of tail was nine feet
eight inches" 92
Head of the first Man-Eater 93
"The following evening I took up my position in this same tree" 100
"He measured nine feet six inches from tip of nose to
tip of tail, and stood three feet eleven and
a half inches high" 103
"The bridge over the Tsavo rapidly neared completion" 108
"The heavy stones were swung into position" 109
"The girder was run over its exact place" 110
"And finally lowered gently into position" 111
"Very soon I had the satisfaction of seeing the first train
cross the finished work" 112
The completed Tsavo bridge 113
One of the Trolley Lines after the Flood 114
Swahili Caravan Porters 120
"Such was my cook, Mabruki" 122
The women ... wear a long, brightly-coloured cloth" 123
"The women attire themselves only in a short kilt" 125
"We arrived at M'Gogo's capital" 126
"Making pombe in the hollowed-out stump of a tree" 127
Wa Taita Men 129
M'Kamba Woman 131
"Until it joins the Athi River" 136
"The banks of the Sabaki are lined with trees" 138
"I caught sight of a fine waterbuck and successfully
bowled him over" 146
"A young one was lying down in the grass quite close to me" 147
A crocodile on the Sabaki 153
"Beyond all doubt, the man-eaters' den!" 158
"Watch the animals come down to drink" 161
"The antelope swinging by his feet" 165
Hippo Head 167
"Slaves chained neck to neck as was the custom" 174
Hospital Tent at Voi where Mrs. O'Hara rested 178
In the Bazaar at Kampala 181
"The great Athi Plains" 182
"First the earth surface has to be prepared" 184
"Cuttings have to be made and hollows banked up" 185
"Another gang drops the rails in their places" 187
"It never moved again" 190
"The trophy was well worth the pains I had taken to add it to
my collection" 191
Jackson's Hartebeeste, and Zebra 194
Waterbuck 195
"Fortunately the brute fell dead after this final effort" 201
"We managed to bring them in triumph to the camp" 214
"I got near enough for a safe shot, which bowled the
antelope over stone-dead" 218
Wart-hog 220
"A successful snapshot of an impala just after it had been shot" 228
A Masai Chief 232
Masai Warriors 233
Masai Woman 234
Masai Girls 235
Masai Women 237
N'derobbo Boy 239
N'derobbo Boy, with Collabus Monkey 240
N'derobbo Girl 241
Wa Kikuyu 244
"The women of the Wa Kikuyu carry the heavy loads" 245
"Spooner's plucky servant, Imam Din" 281
A Collection of Trophies 285
He was kept on view for several days, and then shot 291
Impala 292
"I took a photograph of him standing reside his fine trophy" 295
"Succeeded in finishing him off without further trouble" 297
Steamer unloading at Kisumu, on Lake Victoria Nyanza 299
The Grand Falls, Tana River 300
Shimone, "The Place of Falling Water" (Eldama Ravine) 301
Oryx 302
Roan Antelope 303
"An excellent, cheery fellow ... named Landaalu" 304
Crossing a Stream on the Cook's Box 305
Crossing the Angarua River 307
Reedbuck 309
The New Eland--T. oryx pattersonianus 316
Thomson's Gazelle 321
War Canoe on Lake Victoria Nyanza, near the Ripon Falls 325
Preparing Breakfast in Camp 326
View in the Kenya Province 331
"A flying visit in a rickshaw to Kampala" 332
"Clad in long flowing cotton garments" 333
Jinja 334
"Rushing over the Ripon Falls" 335
"The mighty river stretching away to the north amid
enchanting scenery" 337
Wa Kikuyu Warriors 346
Map of British East Africa 347
Facsimile of address presented to the author on his departure
from East Africa in 1899 348-351
THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO
CHAPTER I
MY ARRIVAL AT TSAVO
It was towards noon on March 1, 1898, that I first found myself
entering the narrow and somewhat dangerous harbour of Mombasa, on the
east coast of Africa. The town lies on an island of the same name,
separated from the mainland only by a very narrow channel, which forms
the harbour; and as our vessel steamed slowly in, close under the
quaint old Portuguese fortress built over three hundred years ago, I
was much struck with the strange beauty of the view which gradually
opened out before me. Contrary to my anticipation, everything looked
fresh and green, and an oriental glamour of enchantment seemed to hang
over the island. The old town was bathed in brilliant sunshine and
reflected itself lazily on the motionless sea; its flat roofs and
dazzlingly white walls peeped out dreamily between waving palms and
lofty cocoanuts, huge baobabs and spreading mango trees; and the darker
background of well-wooded hills and slopes on the mainland formed a
very effective setting to a beautiful and, to me, unexpected picture.
The harbour was plentifully sprinkled with Arab dhows, in some of
which, I believe, even at the present day, a few slaves are
occasionally smuggled off to Persia and Arabia. It has always been a
matter of great wonder to me how the navigators of little vessels find
their way from port to port, as they do, without the aid of either
compass or sextant, and how they manage to weather the terrible storms
that at certain seasons of the year suddenly visit eastern seas. I
remember once coming across a dhow becalmed in the middle of the Indian
Ocean, and its crew making signals of distress, our captain slowed down
to investigate. There were four men on board, all nearly dead from
thirst; they had been without drink of any kind for several days and
had completely lost their bearings. After giving them some casks of
water, we directed them to Muscat (the port they wished to make), and
our vessel resumed its journey, leaving them still becalmed in the
midst of that glassy sea. Whether they managed to reach their
destination I never knew.
As our steamer made its way to its anchorage, the romantic surroundings
of the harbour of Mombasa conjured up, visions of stirring adventures
of the past, and recalled to my mind the many tales of reckless doings
of pirates and slavers, which as a boy it had been my delight to read.
I remembered that it was at this very place that in 1498 the great
Vasco da Gama nearly lost his ship and life through the treachery of
his Arab pilot, who plotted to wreck the vessel on the reef which bars
more than half the entrance to the harbour. Luckily, this nefarious
design was discovered in time, and the bold navigator promptly hanged
the pilot, and would also have sacked the town but for the timely
submission and apologies of the Sultan. In the principal street of
Mombasa--appropriately called Vasco da Gama Street--there still stands
a curiously shaped pillar which is said to have been erected by this
great seaman in commemoration of his visit.
Scarcely had the anchor been dropped, when, as if by magic, our vessel
was surrounded by a fleet of small boats and "dug-outs" manned by
crowds of shouting and gesticulating natives. After a short fight
between some rival Swahili boatmen for my baggage and person, I found
myself being vigorously rowed to the foot of the landing steps by the
bahareen (sailors) who had been successful in the encounter. Now, my
object in coming out to East Africa at this time was to take up a
position to which I had been appointed by the Foreign Office on the
construction staff of the Uganda Railway. As soon as I landed,
therefore, I enquired from one of the Customs officials where the
headquarters of the railway were to be found, and was told that they
were at a place called Kilindini, some three miles away, on the other
side of the island. The best way to get there, I was further informed,
was by gharri, which I found to be a small trolley, having two seats
placed back to back under a little canopy and running on narrow rails
which are laid through the principal street of the town. Accordingly, I
secured one of these vehicles, which are pushed by two strapping
Swahili boys, and was soon flying down the track, which once outside
the town lay for the most part through dense groves of mango, baobab,
banana and palm trees, with here and there brilliantly coloured
creepers hanging in luxuriant festoons from the branches.
On arrival at Kilindini, I made my way to the railway Offices and was
informed that I should be stationed inland and should receive further
instructions in the course of a day or two. Meanwhile I pitched my tent
under some shady palms near the gharri line, and busied myself in
exploring the island and in procuring the stores and the outfit
necessary for a lengthy sojourn up-country. The town of Mombasa itself
naturally occupied most of my attention. It is supposed to have been
founded about A.D. 1000, but the discovery of ancient Egyptian idols,
and of coins of the early Persian and Chinese dynasties, goes to show
that it must at different ages have been settled by people of the very
earliest civilisations. Coming to more modern times, it was held on and
off from 1505 to 1729 by the Portuguese, a permanent memorial of whose
occupation remains in the shape of the grim old fortress, built about
1593--on the site, it is believed, of a still older stronghold. These
enterprising sea-rovers piously named it "Jesus Fort," and an
inscription recording this is still to be seen over the main entrance.
The Portuguese occupation of Mombasa was, however, not without its
vicissitudes. From March 15, 1696, for example, the town was besieged
for thirty-three consecutive months by a large fleet of Arab dhows,
which completely surrounded the island. In spite of plague, treachery
and famine, the little garrison held out valiantly in Jesus Fort, to
which they had been forced to retire, until December 12, 1698, when the
Arabs made a last determined attack and captured the citadel, putting
the remnant of the defenders, both men and women, to the sword. It is
pathetic to read that only two days later a large Portuguese fleet
appeared off the harbour, bringing the long-looked-for reinforcements.
After this the Portuguese made several attempts to reconquer Mombasa,
but were unsuccessful until 1728, when the town was stormed and
captured by General Sampayo. The Arabs, however, returned the next year
in overwhelming numbers, and again drove the Portuguese out; and
although the latter made one more attempt in 1769 to regain their
supremacy, they did not succeed.
The Arabs, as represented by the Sultan of Zanzibar, remain in nominal
possession of Mombasa to the present day; but in 1887 Seyid Bargash,
the then Sultan of Zanzibar, gave for an annual rental a concession of
his mainland territories to the British East Africa Association, which
in 1888 was formed into the Imperial British East Africa Company. In
1895 the Foreign Office took over control of the Company's possessions,
and a Protectorate was proclaimed; and ten years later the
administration of the country was transferred to the Colonial Office.
The last serious fighting on the island took place so recently as
1895-6, when a Swahili chief named M'baruk bin Rashed, who had three
times previously risen in rebellion against the Sultan of Zanzibar,
attempted to defy the British and to throw off their yoke. He was
defeated on several occasions, however, and was finally forced to flee
southwards into German territory. Altogether, Mombasa has in the past
well deserved its native name of Kisiwa M'vitaa, or "Isle of War"; but
under the settled rule now obtaining, it is rapidly becoming a thriving
and prosperous town, and as the port of entry for Uganda, it does a
large forwarding trade with the interior and has several excellent
stores where almost anything, from a needle to an anchor, may readily
be obtained.
Kilindini is, as I have said, on the opposite side of the island, and
as its name--"the place of deep waters"--implies, has a much finer
harbour than that possessed by Mombasa. The channel between the island
and the mainland is here capable of giving commodious and safe
anchorage to the very largest vessels, and as the jetty is directly
connected with the Uganda Railway, Kilindini has now really become the
principal port, being always used by the liners and heavier vessels.
I had spent nearly a week in Mombasa, and was becoming very anxious to
get my marching orders, when one morning I was delighted to receive an
official letter instructing me to proceed to Tsavo, about one hundred
and thirty-two miles from the coast, and to take charge of the
construction of the section of the line at that place, which had just
then been reached by railhead. I accordingly started at daylight next
morning in a special train with Mr. Anderson, the Superintendent of
Works, and Dr. McCulloch, the principal Medical Officer; and as the
country was in every way new to me, I found the journey a most
interesting one.
The island of Mombasa is separated from the mainland by the Strait of
Macupa, and the railway crosses this by a bridge about three-quarters
of a mile long, called the Salisbury Bridge, in honour of the great
Minister for Foreign Affairs under whose direction the Uganda Railway
scheme was undertaken. For twenty miles after reaching the mainland,
our train wound steadily upwards through beautifully wooded, park-like
country, and on looking back out of the carriage windows we could every
now and again obtain lovely views of Mombasa and Kilindini, while
beyond these the Indian Ocean sparkled in the glorious sunshine as far
as the eye could see. The summit of the Rabai Hills having been
reached, we entered on the expanse of the Taru Desert, a wilderness
covered with poor scrub and stunted trees, and carpeted in the dry
season with a layer of fine red dust. This dust is of a most
penetrating character, and finds its way into everything in the
carriage as the train passes along. From here onward game is more or
less plentiful, but the animals are very difficult to see owing to the
thick undergrowth in which they hide themselves. We managed, however,
to catch sight of a few from the carriage windows, and also noticed
some of the natives, the Wa Nyika, or "children of the wilderness."
At Maungu, some eighty miles from the coast, we came to the end of this
"desert," but almost the only difference to be noticed in the character
of the country was that the colour of the dust had changed. As our
train sped onwards through the level uplands we saw a fine ostrich
striding along parallel with the line, as if having a race with us. Dr.
McCulloch at once seized his rifle and by a lucky shot brought down the
huge bird; the next and greater difficulty, however, was to secure the
prize. For a time the engine-driver took no notice of our signals and
shouts, but at last we succeeded in attracting his attention, and the
train was shunted back to where the ostrich had fallen. We found it to
be an exceptionally fine specimen, and had to exert all our strength to
drag it on board the train.
Soon after this we reached Voi, about a hundred miles from the coast,
and as this was the most important station on the line that we had yet
come to, we made a short halt in order to inspect some construction
work which was going on. On resuming our journey, we soon discovered
that a pleasant change had occurred in the character of the landscape.
From a place called N'dii, the railway runs for some miles through a
beautifully wooded country, which looked all the more inviting after
the deadly monotony of the wilderness through which we had just passed.
To the south of us could be seen the N'dii range of mountains, the
dwelling-place of the Wa Taita people, while on our right rose the
rigid brow of the N'dungu Escarpment, which stretches away westwards
for scores of miles. Here our journey was slow, as every now and again
we stopped to inspect the permanent works in progress; but eventually,
towards dusk, we arrived at our destination, Tsavo. I slept that night
in a little palm hut which had been built by some previous traveller,
and which was fortunately unoccupied for the time being. It was rather
broken-down and dilapidated, not even possessing a door, and as I lay
on my narrow camp bed I could see the stars twinkling through the roof.
I little knew then what adventures awaited me in this neighbourhood;
and if I had realised that at that very time two savage brutes were
prowling round, seeking whom they might devour, I hardly think I should
have slept so peacefully in my rickety shelter.
Next morning I was up betimes, eager to make acquaintance with my new
surroundings. My first impression on coming out of my hut was that I
was hemmed in on all sides by a dense growth of impenetrable jungle:
and on scrambling to the top of a little hill close at hand, I found
that the whole country as far as I could see was covered with low,
stunted trees, thick undergrowth and "wait-a-bit" thorns. The only
clearing, indeed, appeared to be where the narrow track for the railway
had been cut. This interminable nyika, or wilderness of whitish and
leafless dwarf trees, presented a ghastly and sun-stricken appearance;
and here and there a ridge of dark-red heat-blistered rock jutted out
above the jungle, and added by its rugged barrenness to the dreariness
of the picture. Away to the north-east stretched the unbroken line of
the N'dungu Escarpment, while far off to the south I could just catch a
glimpse of the snow-capped top of towering Kilima N'jaro. The one
redeeming feature of the neighbourhood was the river from which Tsavo
takes its name. This is a swiftly-flowing stream, always cool and
always running, the latter being an exceptional attribute in this part
of East Africa; and the fringe of lofty green trees along its banks
formed a welcome relief to the general monotony of the landscape.
When I had thus obtained a rough idea of the neighbourhood, I returned
to my hut, and began in earnest to make preparations for my stay in
this out-of-the-way place. The stores were unpacked, and my "boys"
pitched my tent in a little clearing close to where I had slept the
night before and not far from the main camp of the workmen. Railhead
had at this time just reached the western side of the river, and some
thousands of Indian coolies and other workmen were encamped there. As
the line had to be pushed on with all speed, a diversion had been made
and the river crossed by means of a temporary bridge. My principal work
was to erect the permanent structure, and to complete all the other
works for a distance of thirty miles on each side of Tsavo. I
accordingly made a survey of what had to be done, and sent my
requisition for labour, tools and material to the head-quarters at
Kilindini. In a short time workmen and supplies came pouring in, and
the noise of hammers and sledges, drilling and blasting echoed merrily
through the district.
CHAPTER II
THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE MAN-EATERS
Unfortunately this happy state of affairs did not continue for long,
and our work was soon interrupted in a rude and startling manner. Two
most voracious and insatiable man-eating lions appeared upon the scene,
and for over nine months waged an intermittent warfare against the
railway and all those connected with it in the vicinity of Tsavo. This
culminated in a perfect reign of terror in December, 1898, when they
actually succeeded in bringing the railway works to a complete
standstill for about three weeks. At first they were not always
successful in their efforts to carry off a victim, but as time went on
they stopped at nothing and indeed braved any danger in order to obtain
their favourite food. Their methods then became so uncanny, and their
man-stalking so well-timed and so certain of success, that the workmen
firmly believed that they were not real animals at all, but devils in
lions' shape. Many a time the coolies solemnly assured me that it was
absolutely useless to attempt to shoot them. They were quite convinced
that the angry spirits of two departed native chiefs had taken this
form in order to protest against a railway being made through their
country, and by stopping its progress to avenge the insult thus shown
to them.
I had only been a few days at Tsavo when I first heard that these
brutes had been seen in the neighbourhood. Shortly afterwards one or
two coolies mysteriously disappeared, and I was told that they had been
carried off by night from their tents and devoured by lions. At the
time I did not credit this story, and was more inclined to believe that
the unfortunate men had been the victims of foul play at the hands of
some of their comrades. They were, as it happened, very good workmen,
and had each saved a fair number of rupees, so I thought it quite
likely that some scoundrels from the gangs had murdered them for the
sake of their money. This suspicion, however, was very soon dispelled.
About three weeks after my arrival, I was roused one morning about
daybreak and told that one of my jemadars, a fine powerful Sikh named
Ungan Singh, had been seized in his tent during the night, and dragged
off and eaten.
Naturally I lost no time in making an examination of the place, and was
soon convinced that the man had indeed been carried off by a lion, as
its "pug" marks were plainly visible in the sand, while the furrows
made by the heels of the victim showed the direction in which he had
been dragged away. Moreover, the jemadar shared his tent with half a
dozen other workmen, and one of his bedfellows had actually witnessed
the occurrence. He graphically described how, at about midnight, the
lion suddenly put its head in at the open tent door and seized Ungan
Singh--who happened to be nearest the opening--by the throat. The
unfortunate fellow cried out "Choro" ("Let go"), and threw his arms up
round the lion's neck. The next moment he was gone, and his
panic-stricken companions lay helpless, forced to listen to the
terrible struggle which took place outside. Poor Ungan Singh must have
died hard; but what chance had he? As a coolie gravely remarked, "Was
he not fighting with a lion?"
On hearing this dreadful story I at once set out to try to track the
animal, and was accompanied by Captain Haslem, who happened to be
staying at Tsavo at the time, and who, poor fellow, himself met with a
tragic fate very shortly afterwards. We found it an easy matter to
follow the route taken by the lion, as he appeared to have stopped
several times before beginning his meal. Pools of blood marked these
halting-places, where he doubtless indulged in the man-eaters' habit of
licking the skin off so as to get at the fresh blood. (I have been led
to believe that this is their custom from the appearance of two
half-eaten bodies which I subsequently rescued: the skin was gone in
places, and the flesh looked dry, as if it had been sucked.) On
reaching the spot where the body had been devoured, a dreadful
spectacle presented itself. The ground all round was covered with blood
and morsels of flesh and bones, but the unfortunate jemadar's head had
been left intact, save for the holes made by the lion's tusks on
seizing him, and lay a short distance away from the other remains, the
eyes staring wide open with a startled, horrified look in them. The
place was considerably cut up, and on closer examination we found that
two lions had been there and had probably struggled for possession of
the body. It was the most gruesome sight I had ever seen. We collected
the remains as well as we could and heaped stones on them, the head
with its fixed, terrified stare seeming to watch us all the time, for
it we did not bury, but took back to camp for identification before the
Medical Officer.
Thus occurred my first experience of man-eating lions, and I vowed
there and then that I would spare no pains to rid the neighbourhood of
the brutes. I little knew the trouble that was in store for me, or how
narrow were to be my own escapes from sharing poor Ungan Singh's fate.
That same night I sat up in a tree close to the late jemadar's tent,
hoping that the lions would return to it for another victim. I was
followed to my perch by a few of the more terrified coolies, who begged
to be allowed to sit up in the tree with me; all the other workmen
remained in their tents, but no more doors were left open. I had with
me my .303 and a 12-bore shot gun, one barrel loaded with ball and the
other with slug. Shortly after settling down to my vigil, my hopes of
bagging one of the brutes were raised by the sound of their ominous
roaring coming closer and closer. Presently this ceased, and quiet
reigned for an hour or two, as lions always stalk their prey in
complete silence. All at once, however, we heard a great uproar and
frenzied cries coming from another camp about half a mile away; we knew
then that the lions had seized a victim there, and that we should see
or hear nothing further of them that night.
Next morning I found that one of the brutes had broken into a tent at
Railhead Camp--whence we had heard the commotion during the night--and
had made off with a poor wretch who was lying there asleep. After a
night's rest, therefore, I took up my position in a suitable tree near
this tent. I did not at all like the idea of walking the half-mile to
the place after dark, but all the same I felt fairly safe, as one of my
men carried a bright lamp close behind me. He in his turn was followed
by another leading a goat, which I tied under my tree in the hope that
the lion might be tempted to seize it instead of a coolie. A steady
drizzle commenced shortly after I had settled down to my night of
watching, and I was soon thoroughly chilled and wet. I stuck to my
uncomfortable post, however, hoping to get a shot, but I well remember
the feeling of impotent disappointment I experienced when about
midnight I heard screams and cries and a heart-rending shriek, which
told me that the man-eaters had again eluded me and had claimed another
victim elsewhere.
At this time the various camps for the workmen were very scattered, so
that the lions had a range of some eight miles on either side of Tsavo
to work upon; and as their tactics seemed to be to break into a
different camp each night, it was most difficult to forestall them.
They almost appeared, too, to have an extraordinary and uncanny faculty
of finding out our plans beforehand, so that no matter in how likely or
how tempting a spot we lay in wait for them, they invariably avoided
that particular place and seized their victim for the night from some
other camp. Hunting them by day, moreover, in such a dense wilderness
as surrounded us, was an exceedingly tiring and really foolhardy
undertaking. In a thick jungle of the kind round Tsavo the hunted
animal has every chance against the hunter, as however careful the
latter may be, a dead twig or something of the sort is sure to crackle
just at the critical moment and so give the alarm. Still I never gave
up hope of some day finding their lair, and accordingly continued to
devote all my spare time to crawling about through the undergrowth.
Many a time when attempting to force my way through this bewildering
tangle I had to be released by my gun-bearer from the fast clutches of
the "wait-a-bit"; and often with immense pains I succeeded in tracing
the lions to the river after they had seized a victim, only to lose the
trail from there onwards, owing to the rocky nature of the ground which
they seemed to be careful to choose in retreating to their den.
At this early stage of the struggle, I am glad to say, the lions were
not always successful in their efforts to capture a human being for
their nightly meal, and one or two amusing incidents occurred to
relieve the tension from which our nerves were beginning to suffer. On
one occasion an enterprising bunniah (Indian trader) was riding along
on his donkey late one night, when suddenly a lion sprang out on him
knocking over both man and beast. The donkey was badly wounded, and the
lion was just about to seize the trader, when in some way or other his
claws became entangled in a rope by which two empty oil tins were
strung across the donkey's neck. The rattle and clatter made by these
as he dragged them after him gave him such a fright that he turned tail
and bolted off into the jungle, to the intense relief of the terrified
bunniah, who quickly made his way up the nearest tree and remained
there, shivering with fear, for the rest of the night.
Shortly after this episode, a Greek contractor named Themistocles
Pappadimitrini had an equally marvellous escape. He was sleeping
peacefully in his tent one night, when a lion broke in, and seized and
made off with the mattress on which he was lying. Though, rudely
awakened, the Greek was quite unhurt and suffered from nothing worse
than a bad fright. This same man, however, met with a melancholy fate
not long afterwards. He had been to the Kilima N'jaro district to buy
cattle, and on the return journey attempted to take a short cut across
country to the railway, but perished miserably of thirst on the way.
On another occasion fourteen coolies who slept together in a large tent
were one night awakened by a lion suddenly jumping on to the tent and
breaking through it. The brute landed with one claw on a coolie's
shoulder, which was badly torn; but instead of seizing the man himself,
in his hurry he grabbed a large bag of rice which happened to be lying
in the tent, and made off with it, dropping it in disgust some little
distance away when he realised his mistake.
These, however, were only the earlier efforts of the man-eaters. Later
on, as will be seen, nothing flurried or frightened them in the least,
and except as food they showed a complete contempt for human beings.
Having once marked down a victim, they would allow nothing to deter
them from securing him, whether he were protected by a thick fence, or
inside a closed tent, or sitting round a brightly burning fire. Shots,
shouting and firebrands they alike held in derision.
CHAPTER III
THE ATTACK ON THE GOODS-WAGON
All this time my own tent was pitched in an open clearing, unprotected
by a fence of any kind round it. One night when the medical officer;
Dr. Rose, was staying with me, we were awakened about midnight by
hearing something tumbling about among the tent ropes, but on going out
with a lantern we could discover nothing. Daylight, however, plainly
revealed the "pug" marks of a lion, so that on that occasion I fancy
one or other of us had a narrow escape. Warned by this experience, I at
once arranged to move my quarters, and went to join forces with Dr.
Brock, who had just arrived at Tsavo to take medical charge of the
district. We shared a hut of palm leaves and boughs, which we had
constructed on the eastern side of the river, close to the old caravan
route leading to Uganda; and we had it surrounded by a circular boma,
or thorn fence, about seventy yards in diameter, well made and thick
and high. Our personal servants also lived within the enclosure, and a
bright fire was always kept up throughout the night. For the sake of
coolness, Brock and I used to sit out under the verandah of this hut in
the evenings; but it was rather trying to our nerves to attempt to read
or write there, as we never knew when a lion might spring over the
boma, and be on us before we were aware. We therefore kept our rifles
within easy reach, and cast many an anxious glance out into the inky
darkness beyond the circle of the firelight. On one or two occasions,
we found in the morning that the lions had come quite close to the
fence; but fortunately they never succeeded in getting through.
By this time, too, the camps of the workmen had also been surrounded by
thorn fences; nevertheless the lions managed to jump over or to break
through some one or other of these, and regularly every few nights a
man was carried off, the reports of the disappearance of this or that
workman coming in to me with painful frequency. So long, however, as
Railhead Camp--with its two or three thousand men, scattered over a
wide area--remained at Tsavo, the coolies appeared not to take much
notice of the dreadful deaths of their comrades. Each man felt, I
suppose, that as the man-eaters had such a large number of victims to
choose from, the chances of their selecting him in particular were very
small. But when the large camp moved ahead with the railway, matters
altered considerably. I was then left with only some few hundred men to
complete the permanent works; and as all the remaining workmen were
naturally camped together, the attentions of the lions became more
apparent and made a deeper impression. A regular panic consequently
ensued, and it required all my powers of persuasion to induce the men
to stay on. In fact, I succeeded in doing so only by allowing them to
knock off all regular work until they had built exceptionally thick and
high bomas round each camp. Within these enclosures fires were kept
burning all night, and it was also the duty of the night-watchman to
keep clattering half a dozen empty oil tins suspended from a convenient
tree. These he manipulated by means of a long rope, while sitting in
safety within his tent; and the frightful noise thus produced was kept
up at frequent intervals during the night in the hopes of terrifying
away the man-eaters. In spite of all these precautions, however, the
lions would not be denied, and men continued to disappear.
When the railhead workmen moved on, their hospital camp was left
behind. It stood rather apart from the other camps, in a clearing about
three-quarters of a mile from my hut, but was protected by a good thick
fence and to all appearance was quite secure. It seemed, however, as if
barriers were of no avail against the "demons", for before very long
one of them found a weak spot in the boma and broke through. On this
occasion the Hospital Assistant had a marvellous escape. Hearing a
noise outside, he opened the door of his tent and was horrified to see
a great lion standing a few yards away looking at him. The beast made a
spring towards him, which gave the Assistant such a fright that he
jumped backwards, and in doing so luckily upset a box containing
medical stores. This crashed down with such a loud clatter of breaking
glass that the lion was startled for the moment and made off to another
part of the enclosure. Here, unfortunately, he was more successful, as
he jumped on to and broke through a tent in which eight patients were
lying. Two of them were badly wounded by his spring, while a third poor
wretch was seized and dragged off bodily through the thorn fence. The
two wounded coolies were left where they lay, a piece of torn tent
having fallen over them; and in this position the doctor and I found
them on our arrival soon after dawn next morning. We at once decided to
move the hospital closer to the main camp; a fresh site was prepared, a
stout hedge built round the enclosure, and all the patients were moved
in before nightfall.
As I had heard that lions generally visit recently deserted camps, I
decided to sit up all night in the vacated boma in the hope of getting
an opportunity of bagging one of them; but in the middle of my lonely
vigil I had the mortification of hearing shrieks and cries coming from
the direction of the new hospital, telling me only too plainly that our
dreaded foes had once more eluded me. Hurrying to the place at daylight
I found that one of the lions had jumped over the newly erected fence
and had carried off the hospital bhisti (water-carrier), and that
several other coolies had been unwilling witnesses of the terrible
scene which took place within the circle of light given by the big camp
fire. The bhisti, it appears, had been lying on the floor, with his
head towards the centre of the tent and his feet neatly touching the
side. The lion managed to get its head in below the canvas, seized him
by the foot and pulled him out. In desperation the unfortunate
water-carrier clutched hold of a heavy box in a vain attempt to prevent
himself being carried off, and dragged it with him until he was forced
to let go by its being stopped by the side of the tent. He then caught
hold of a tent rope, and clung tightly to it until it broke. As soon as
the lion managed to get him clear of the tent, he sprang at his throat
and after a few vicious shakes the poor bhisti's agonising cries were
silenced for ever. The brute then seized him in his mouth, like a huge
cat with a mouse, and ran up and down the boma looking for a weak spot
to break through. This he presently found and plunged into, dragging
his victim with him and leaving shreds of torn cloth and flesh as
ghastly evidences of his passage through the thorns. Dr. Brock and I
were easily able to follow his track, and soon found the remains about
four hundred yards away in the bush. There was the usual horrible
sight. Very little was left of the unfortunate bhisti--only the skull,
the jaws, a few of the larger bones and a portion of the palm with one
or two fingers attached. On one of these was a silver ring, and this,
with the teeth (a relic much prized by certain castes), was sent to the
man's widow in India.
Again it was decided to move the hospital; and again, before nightfall,
the work was completed, including a still stronger and thicker boma.
When the patients had been moved, I had a covered goods-wagon placed in
a favourable position on a siding which ran close to the site which had
just been abandoned, and in this Brock and I arranged to sit up that
night. We left a couple of tents still standing within the enclosure,
and also tied up a few cattle in it as bait for the lions, who had been
seen in no less than three different places in the neighbourhood during
the afternoon (April 23). Four miles from Tsavo they had attempted to
seize a coolie who was walking along the line. Fortunately, however, he
had just time to escape up a tree, where he remained, more dead than
alive, until he was rescued by the Traffic Manager, who caught sight of
him from a passing train. They next appeared close to Tsavo Station,
and a couple of hours later some workmen saw one of the lions stalking
Dr. Brock as he was returning about dusk from the hospital.
In accordance with our plan, the doctor and I set out after dinner for
the goods-wagon, which was about a mile away from our hut. In the light
of subsequent events, we did a very foolish thing in taking up our
position so late; nevertheless, we reached our destination in safety,
and settled down to our watch about ten o'clock. We had the lower half
of the door of the wagon closed, while the upper half was left wide
open for observation: and we faced, of course, in the direction of the
abandoned boma, which, however, we were unable to see in the inky
darkness. For an hour or two everything was quiet, and the deadly
silence was becoming very monotonous and oppressive, when suddenly, to
our right, a dry twig snapped, and we knew that an animal of some sort
was about. Soon afterwards we heard a dull thud, as if some heavy body
had jumped over the boma. The cattle, too, became very uneasy, and we
could hear them moving about restlessly. Then again came dead silence.
At this juncture I proposed to my companion that I should get out of
the wagon and lie on the ground close to it, as I could see better in
that position should the lion come in our direction with his prey.
Brock, however, persuaded me to remain where I was; and a few seconds
afterwards I was heartily glad that I had taken his advice, for at that
very moment one of the man-eaters--although we did not know it--was
quietly stalking us, and was even then almost within springing
distance. Orders had been given for the entrance to the boma to be
blocked up, and accordingly we were listening in the expectation of
hearing the lion force his way out through the bushes with his prey. As
a matter of fact, however, the doorway had not been properly closed,
and while we were wondering what the lion could be doing inside the
boma for so long, he was outside all the time, silently reconnoitring
our position.
Presently I fancied I saw something coming very stealthily towards us.
I feared, however, to trust to my eyes, which by that time were
strained by prolonged staring through the darkness, so under my breath
I asked Brock whether he saw anything, at the same time covering the
dark object as well as I could with my rifle. Brock did not answer; he
told me afterwards that he, too, thought he had seen something move,
but was afraid to say so lest I should fire and it turn out to be
nothing after all. After this there was intense silence again for a
second or two, then with a sudden bound a huge body sprang at us. "The
lion!" I shouted, and we both fired almost simultaneously--not a moment
too soon, for in another second the brute would assuredly have landed
inside the wagon. As it was, he must have swerved off in his spring,
probably blinded by the flash and frightened by the noise of the double
report which was increased a hundredfold by the reverberation of the
hollow iron roof of the truck. Had we not been very much on the alert,
he would undoubtedly have got one of us, and we realised that we had
had a very lucky and very narrow escape. The next morning we found
Brock's bullet embedded in the sand close to a footprint; it could not
have missed the lion by more than an inch or two. Mine was nowhere to
be found.
Thus ended my first direct encounter with one of the man-eaters.
CHAPTER IV
THE BUILDING OF THE TSAVO BRIDGE
During all this troublesome period the construction of the railway had
been going steadily forward, and the first important piece of work
which I had commenced on arrival was completed. This was the widening
of a rock cutting through which the railway ran just before it, reached
the river. In the hurry of pushing on the laying of the line, just
enough of the rock had originally been cut away to allow room for an
engine to pass, and consequently any material which happened to,
project outside the wagons or trucks caught on the jagged faces of the
cutting. I myself saw the door of a guard's van, which had been left
ajar, smashed to atoms in this way; and accordingly I put a gang of
rock-drillers to work at once and soon had ample room made for all
traffic to pass unimpeded. While this was going on, another gang of men
were laying the foundations of a girder bridge which was to span a
gully between this cutting and Tsavo Station. This would have taken too
long to erect when railhead was at the place, so a diversion had been
made round it, the temporary track leading down almost to the bed of
the nullah and up again on the further side. When the foundations and
abutments were ready, the gully was spanned by an iron girder, the
slopes leading up to it banked up on either side, and the permanent way
laid on an easy grade.
Then, also, a water supply had to be established; and this meant some
very pleasant work for me in taking levels up the banks of the river
under the cool shade of the palms. While doing this, I often took my
camp-kit with me, and a luncheon served in the wilds, with occasionally
a friend to share it--when a friend was available--was delightful. On
one occasion in particular, I went a long way up the river and was
accompanied by a young member of my staff. The day had been exceedingly
hot and we were both correspondingly tired when our work was finished,
so my companion suggested that we should build a raft and float
down-stream home. I was rather doubtful, of the feasibility of the
scheme, but nevertheless he decided to give it a trial. Setting to work
with our axes, we soon had a raft built, lashing the poles together
with the fibre which grows in abundance all over the district. When it
was finished, we pushed it out of the little backwater where it had
been constructed, and the young engineer jumped aboard. All went well
until it got out into midstream, when much to my amusement it promptly
toppled gracefully over. I helped my friend to scramble quickly up the
bank out of reach of possible crocodiles, when, none the worse for his
ducking, he laughed as heartily as I at the adventure.
Except for an occasional relaxation of this sort, every moment of my
time was fully occupied. Superintending the various works and a hundred
other duties kept me busy all day long, while my evenings were given up
to settling disputes among the coolies, hearing reports and complaints
from the various jemadars and workpeople, and in studying the Swahili
language. Preparations, too, for the principal piece of work in the
district--the building of the railway bridge over the Tsavo river--were
going on apace. These involved, much personal work on my part; cross
and oblique sections of the river had to be taken, the rate of the
current and the volume of water at flood, mean, and low levels had to
be found, and all the necessary calculations made. These having at
length been completed, I marked out the positions for the abutments and
piers, and the work of sinking their foundations was begun. The two
centre piers in particular caused a great deal of trouble, as the river
broke in several times, and had to be dammed up and pumped dry again
before work could be resumed. Then we found we had to sink much deeper
than we expected in order to reach a solid foundation indeed, the
sinking went on and on, until I began to despair of finding one and was
about to resort to pile-driving, when at last, to my relief, we struck
solid rock on which the huge foundation-stones could be laid with
perfect safety.
Another great difficulty with which we had to contend was the absence
of suitable stone in the neighbourhood. It was not that there was none
to be found, for the whole district abounds in rock, but that it was so
intensely hard as to be almost impossible to work, and a bridge built
of it would have been very costly. I spent many a weary day trudging
through the thorny wilderness vainly searching for suitable material,
and was beginning to think that we should be forced to use iron columns
for the piers, when one day I stumbled quite by accident on the very
thing. Brock and I were out "pot-hunting," and hearing some guinea-fowl
cackling among the bushes, I made a circuit half round them so that
Brock, on getting in his shot, should drive them over in my direction.
I eventually got into position on the edge of a deep ravine and knelt
on one knee, crouching down among the ferns. There I had scarcely time
to load when over flew a bird, which I missed badly; and I did not have
another chance, for Brock had got to work, and being a first-rate shot
had quickly bagged a brace. Meanwhile I felt the ground very hard under
my knee, and on examination found that the bank of the ravine was
formed of stone, which extended for some distance, and which was
exactly the kind of material for which I had long been fruitlessly
searching. I was greatly delighted with my unexpected discovery, though
at first I had grave misgivings about the distance to be traversed and
the difficulty of transporting the stone across the intervening
country. Indeed, I found in the end that the only way of getting the
material to the place where it was wanted was by laying down a tram
line right along the ravine, throwing a temporary bridge across the
Tsavo, following the stream down and re-crossing it again close to the
site of the permanent bridge. Accordingly, I set men to work at once to
cut down the jungle and prepare a road on which to lay the double
trolley line. One morning when they were thus engaged, a little paa--a
kind of very small antelope--sprang out and found itself suddenly in
the midst of a gang of coolies. Terrified and confused by the shouting
of the men, it ran straight at Shere Shah, the jemadar, who promptly
dropped a basket over it and held it fast. I happened to arrive just in
time to save the graceful little animal's life, and took it home to my
camp, where it very soon became a great pet. Indeed, it grew so tame
that it would jump upon my table at meal times and eat from my hand.
When the road for the trolley line was cleared, the next piece of work
was the building of the two temporary bridges over the river. These we
made in the roughest fashion out of palm trees and logs felled at the
crossing places, and had a flood come down they would, of course, have
both been swept away; fortunately, however, this did not occur until
the permanent work was completed. The whole of this feeding line was
finished in a very short time, and trollies were soon plying backwards
and forwards with loads of stone and sand, as we also discovered the
latter in abundance and of good quality in the bed of the ravine. An
amusing incident occurred one day when I was taking a photograph of an
enormous block of stone which was being hauled across one of these
temporary bridges. As the trolley with its heavy load required very
careful manipulation, my head mason, Heera Singh, stood on the top of
the stone to direct operations, while the overseer, Purshotam Hurjee,
superintended the gangs of men who hauled the ropes at either end in
order to steady it up and down the inclines. But we did not know that
the stream had succeeded in washing away the foundations of one of the
log supports; and as the weight of the trolley with the stone came on
the undermined pier, the rails tilted up and over went the whole thing
into the river, just as I snapped the picture. Heera Singh made a wild
spring into the water to get clear of the falling stone, while
Purshotam and the rest fled as if for their lives to the bank. It was
altogether a most comical sight, and an extraordinary chance that at
the very moment of the accident I should be taking a photograph of the
operation. Fortunately, no one was injured in the slightest, and the
stone was recovered undamaged with but little trouble.
Not long after this occurrence my own labours were one day nearly
brought to a sudden and unpleasant end. I was travelling along in an
empty trolley which, pushed by two sturdy Pathans, was returning to the
quarry for sand. Presently we came to the sharp incline which led to
the log bridge over the river. Here it was the custom of the men,
instead of running beside the trolley, to step on to it and to let its
own momentum take it down the slope, moderating its speed when
necessary by a brake in the shape of a pole, which one of them carried
and by which the wheels could be locked. On this occasion, however, the
pole was by some accident dropped overboard, and down the hill we flew
without brake of any kind. Near the bridge there was a sharp curve in
the line, where I was afraid the trolley would jump the rails; still, I
thought it was better to stick to it than to risk leaping off. A moment
afterwards I felt myself flying head first over the edge of the bridge,
just missing by a hair's breadth a projecting beam; but luckily I
landed on a sand bank at the side of the river, the heavy trolley
falling clear of me with a dull thud close by. This accident, also, was
happily unattended by injury to anyone.
CHAPTER V
TROUBLES WITH THE WORKMEN
It seemed fated that the building of the Tsavo Bridge should never be
allowed to proceed in peace for any length of time. I have already
described our troubles with the lions; and no sooner did the beasts of
prey appear to have deserted us, for the time being at any rate, than
other troubles, no less serious, arose with the workmen themselves.
After I had discovered the stone for the bridge, I sent down to the
coast for gangs of masons to work and dress it. The men who were sent
me for this purpose were mostly Pathans and were supposed to be expert
workmen; but I soon found that many of them had not the faintest notion
of stone-cutting, and were simply ordinary coolies who had posed as
masons in order to draw forty-five instead of twelve rupees a month. On
discovering this fact, I immediately instituted a system of piecework,
and drew up a scale of pay which would enable the genuine mason to earn
his forty-five rupees a month--and a little more if he felt
inclined--and would cut down the impostors to about their proper pay as
coolies. Now, as is often the case in this world, the impostors were
greatly in the majority; and accordingly they attempted to intimidate
the remainder into coming down to their own standard as regards output
of work, in the hope of thereby inducing me to abandon the piece-work
system of payment. This, however, I had no intention of doing, as I
knew that I had demanded only a perfectly fair amount of work from each
man.
These masons were continually having quarrels and fights amongst
themselves, and I had frequently to go down to their camp to quell
disturbances and to separate the Hindus from the Mohammedans. One
particularly serious disturbance of this sort had a rather amusing
sequel. I was sitting after dusk one evening at the door of my hut,
when I heard a great commotion in the masons' camp, which lay only a
few hundred yards away. Presently a jemadar came rushing up to me to
say that the men were all fighting and murdering each other with sticks
and stones. I ran back with him at once and succeeded in restoring
order, but found seven badly injured men lying stretched out on the
ground. These I had carried up to my own boma on charpoys (native
beds); and Brock being away, I had to play the doctor myself as best I
could, stitching one and bandaging another and generally doing what was
possible. There was one man, however, who groaned loudly and held a
cloth over his face as if he were dying. On lifting this covering, I
found him to be a certain mason called Karim Bux, who was well known to
me as a prime mischief-maker among the men. I examined him carefully,
but as I could discover nothing amiss, I concluded that he must have
received some internal injury, and accordingly told him that I would
send him to the hospital at Voi (about thirty miles down the line) to
be attended to properly. He was then carried back to his camp, groaning
grievously all the time.
Scarcely had he been removed, when the head jemadar came and informed
me that the man was not hurt at all, and that as a matter of fact he
was the sole cause of the disturbance. He was now pretending to be
badly injured, in order to escape the punishment which he knew he would
receive if I discovered that he was the instigator of the trouble. On
hearing this, I gave instructions that he was not to go to Voi in the
special train with the others; but I had not heard the last of him yet.
About eleven o'clock that night I was called up and asked to go down to
the masons' camp to see a man who was supposed to be dying. I at once
pulled on my boots, got some brandy and ran down to the camp, where to
my surprise and amusement I found that it was my friend Karim Bux who
was at death's door. It was perfectly evident to me that he was only
"foxing," but when he asked for dawa (medicine), I told him gravely
that I would give him some very good dawa in the morning.
Next day at noon--when it was my custom to have evil-doers brought up
for judgment--I asked for Karim Bux, but was told that he was too ill
to walk. I accordingly ordered him to be carried to my boma, and in a
few moments he arrived in his charpoy, which was shouldered by four
coolies who, I could see, knew quite well that he was only shamming.
There were also a score or so of his friends hanging around, doubtless
waiting in the expectation of seeing the "Sahib" hoodwinked. When the
bed was placed on the ground near me, I lifted the blanket with which
he had covered himself and thoroughly examined him, at the same time
feeling him to make sure that he had no fever. He pretended to be
desperately ill and again asked for dawa; but having finally satisfied
myself that it was as the jemadar had said--pure budmashi
(devilment)--I told him that I was going to give him some very
effective dawa, and carefully covered him up again, pulling the blanket
over his head. I then got a big armful of shavings from a carpenter's
bench which was close by, put them under the bed and set fire to them.
As soon as the sham invalid felt the heat, he peeped over the edge of
the blanket; and when he saw the smoke and flame leaping up round him,
he threw the blanket from him, sprang from the bed exclaiming "Beiman
shaitan!" ("Unbelieving devil!"), and fled like a deer to the entrance
of my boma, pursued by a Sikh sepoy, who got in a couple of good whacks
on his shoulders with a stout stick before he effected his escape. His
amused comrades greeted me with shouts of "Shabash, Sahib!" ("Well
done, sir"), and I never had any further trouble with Karim Bux. He
came back later in the day, with clasped hands imploring forgiveness,
which I readily granted, as he was a clever workman.
A few days after this incident I was returning home one morning from a
tree in which I had been keeping watch for the man-eaters during the
previous night. Coming unexpectedly on the quarry, I was amazed to find
dead silence reigning and my rascals of workmen all stretched out in
the shade under the trees taking it very easy--some sleeping, some
playing cards. I watched their proceedings through the bushes for a
little while, and then it occurred to me to give them a fright by
firing my rifle over their heads. On the report being heard, the scene
changed like magic: each man simply flew to his particular work, and
hammers and chisels resounded merrily and energetically, where all had
been silence a moment before. They thought, of course, that I was still
some distance off and had not seen them, but to their consternation I
shouted to them that they were too late, as I had been watching them
for some time. I fined every man present heavily, besides summarily
degrading the Headman, who had thus shown himself utterly unfit for his
position. I then proceeded to my hut, but had scarcely arrived there
when two of the scoundrels tottered up after me, bent almost double and
calling Heaven to witness that I had shot them both in the back. In
order to give a semblance of truth to an otherwise bald and
unconvincing narrative, they had actually induced one of their fellow
workmen to make a few holes like shot holes in their backs, and these
were bleeding profusely. Unfortunately for them, however, I had been
carrying a rifle and not a shot gun, and they had also forgotten to
make corresponding holes in their clothing, so that all they achieved
by this elaborate tissue of falsehood was to bring on themselves the
derision of their comrades and the imposition of an extra fine.
Shortly after this, when the masons realised that I intended to make
each man do a fair day's work for his money, and would allow nothing to
prevent this intention from being carried out, they came to the
conclusion that the best thing to do would be to put me quietly out of
the way. Accordingly they held a meeting one night, all being sworn to
secrecy, and after a long palaver it was arranged that I was to be
murdered next day when I made my usual visit to the quarry. My body was
to be thrown into the jungle, where of course it would soon be devoured
by wild beasts, and then they were to say that I had been killed and
eaten by a lion. To this cheerful proposal every man present at the
meeting agreed, and affixed his finger-mark to a long strip of paper as
a binding token. Within an hour after the meeting had dispersed,
however, I was aroused by one of the conspirators, who had crept into
my camp to give me warning. I thanked him for his information, but
determined to go to the quarry in the morning all the same, as at this
stage of affairs I really did not believe that they were capable of
carrying out such a diabolical scheme, and was rather inclined to think
that the informant had been sent merely to frighten me.
Accordingly the next morning (September 6) I started off as usual along
the trolley line to the lonely quarry. As I reached a bend in the line,
my head mason, Heera Singh, a very good man, crept cautiously out of
the bushes and warned me not to proceed. On my asking him the reason,
he said that he dared not tell, but that he and twenty other masons
were not going to work that day, as they were afraid of trouble at the
quarry. At this I began to think that there was something in the story
I had heard overnight, but I laughingly assured him there would be no
trouble and continued on my way. On my arrival at the quarry,
everything seemed perfectly peaceful. All the men were working away
busily, but after a moment or two I noticed stealthy side glances, and
felt that there was something in the wind. As soon as I came up to the
first gang of workmen, the jemadar, a treacherous-looking villain,
informed me that the men working further up the ravine had refused to
obey his orders, and asked me if I would go and see them. I felt at
once that this was a device to lure me into the narrow part of the
ravine, where, with gangs in front of me and behind me, there would be
no escape; still I thought I would see the adventure through, whatever
came of it, so I accompanied the jemadar up the gully. When we got to
the further gang, he went so far as to point out the two men who, he
said, had refused to do what he told them--I suppose he thought that as
I was never to leave the place alive, it did not matter whom he
complained of. I noted their names in my pocket-book in my usual
manner, and turned to retrace my steps. Immediately a yell of rage was
raised by the whole body of some sixty men, answered by a similar shout
from those I had first passed, and who numbered about a hundred. Both
groups of men, carrying crowbars and flourishing their heavy hammers,
then closed in on me in the narrow part of the ravine. I stood still,
waiting for them to act, and one man rushed at me, seizing both my
wrists and shouting out that he was going to "be hung and shot for
me"--rather a curious way of putting it, but that was his exact
expression. I easily wrenched my arms free, and threw him from me; but
by this time I was closely hemmed in, and everywhere I looked I could
see nothing but evil and murderous-looking faces. One burly brute,
afraid to be the first to deal a blow, hurled the man next him at me;
and if he had succeeded in knocking me down, I am certain that I should
never have got up again alive. As it was, however, I stepped quickly
aside, and the man intended to knock me down was himself thrown
violently against a rock, over which he fell heavily.
This occasioned a moment's confusion, of which I quickly took
advantage. I sprang on to the top of the rock, and before they had time
to recover themselves I had started haranguing them in Hindustani. The
habit of obedience still held them, and fortunately they listened to
what I had to say. I told them that I knew all about their plot to
murder me, and that they could certainly do so if they wished; but that
if they did, many of them would assuredly be hanged for it, as the
Sirkar (Government) would soon find out the truth and would disbelieve
their story that I had been carried off by a lion. I said that I knew
quite well that it was only one or two scoundrels among them who had
induced them to behave so stupidly, and urged them not to allow
themselves to be made fools of in this way. Even supposing they were to
carry out their plan of killing me, would not another "Sahib" at once
be set over them, and might he not be an even harder task-master? They
all knew that I was just and fair to the real worker; it was only the
scoundrels and shirkers who had anything to fear from me, and were
upright, self-respecting. Pathans going to allow themselves to be led
away by men of that kind? Once having got them to listen to me, I felt
a little more secure, and I accordingly went on to say that the
discontented among them would be allowed to return at once to Mombasa,
while if the others resumed work and I heard of no further plotting, I
would take no notice of their foolish conduct. Finally I called upon
those who were willing to return to work to hold up their hands, and
instantly every hand in the crowd was raised. I then felt that for the
moment the victory was mine, and after dismissing them, I jumped down
from the rock and continued my rounds as if nothing had happened,
measuring a stone here and there and commenting on the work done. They
were still in a very uncertain and sullen mood, however, and not at all
to be relied upon, so it was with feelings of great relief that an hour
later I made my way back, safe and sound, to Tsavo.
The danger was not yet past, unfortunately, for scarcely had I turned
my back to go home when the mutiny broke out again, another meeting
being held, and a fresh plot made to murder me during the night. Of
this I was soon informed by my time-keeper, who also told me that he
was afraid to go out and call the roll, as they had threatened to kill
him also. At this further outrage I lost no time in telegraphing for
the Railway Police, and also to the District Officer, Mr. Whitehead,
who immediately marched his men twenty-five miles by road to my
assistance. I have no doubt, indeed, that his prompt action alone saved
me from being attacked that very night. Two or three days afterwards
the Railway Police arrived and arrested the ringleaders in the mutiny,
who were taken to Mombasa and tried before Mr. Crawford, the British
Consul, when the full details of the plots to murder me were unfolded
by one of them who turned Queen's evidence. All the scoundrels were
found guilty and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment in the
chain-gangs, and I was never again troubled with mutinous workmen.
CHAPTER VI
THE REIGN OF TERROR
The lions seemed to have got a bad fright the night Brock and I sat up
in wait for them in the goods-wagon, for they kept away from Tsavo and
did not molest us in any way for some considerable time--not, in fact,
until long after Brock had left me and gone on safari (a caravan
journey) to Uganda. In this breathing space which they vouchsafed us,
it occurred to me that should they renew their attacks, a trap would
perhaps offer the best chance of getting at them, and that if I could
construct one in which a couple of coolies might be used as bait
without being subjected to any danger, the lions would be quite daring
enough to enter it in search of them and thus be caught. I accordingly
set to work at once, and in a short time managed to make a sufficiently
strong trap out of wooden sleepers, tram-rails, pieces of telegraph
wire, and a length of heavy chain. It was divided into two
compartments--one for the men and one for the lion. A sliding door at
one end admitted the former, and once inside this compartment they were
perfectly safe, as between them and the lion, if he entered the other,
ran a cross wall of iron rails only three inches apart, and embedded
both top and bottom in heavy wooden sleepers. The door which was to
admit the lion was, of course, at the opposite end of the structure,
but otherwise the whole thing was very much on the principle of the
ordinary rat-trap, except that it was not necessary for the lion to
seize the bait in order to send the door clattering down. This part of
the contrivance was arranged in the following manner. A heavy chain was
secured along the top part of the lion's doorway, the ends hanging down
to the ground on either side of the opening; and to these were
fastened, strongly secured by stout wire, short lengths of rails placed
about six inches apart. This made a sort of flexible door which could
be packed into a small space when not in use, and which abutted against
the top of the doorway when lifted up. The door was held in this
position by a lever made of a piece of rail, which in turn was kept in
its place by a wire fastened to one end and passing down to a spring
concealed in the ground inside the cage. As soon as the lion entered
sufficiently far into the trap, he would be bound to tread on the
spring; his weight on this would release the wire, and in an instant
down would come the door behind him; and he could not push it out in
any way, as it fell into a groove between two rails firmly embedded in
the ground.
In making this trap, which cost us a lot of work, we were rather at a
loss for want of tools to bore holes in the rails for the doorway, so
as to enable them to be fastened by the wire to the chain. It occurred
to me, however, that a hard-nosed bullet from my .303 would penetrate
the iron, and on making the experiment I was glad to find that a hole
was made as cleanly as if it had been punched out.
When the trap was ready I pitched a tent over it in order further to
deceive the lions, and built an exceedingly strong boma round it. One
small entrance was made at the back of the enclosure for the men, which
they were to close on going in by pulling a bush after them; and
another entrance just in front of the door of the cage was left open
for the lions. The wiseacres to whom I showed my invention were
generally of the opinion that the man-eaters would be too cunning to
walk into my parlour; but, as will be seen later, their predictions
proved false. For the first few nights I baited the trap myself, but
nothing happened except that I had a very sleepless and uncomfortable
time, and was badly bitten by mosquitoes.
As a matter of fact, it was some months before the lions attacked us
again, though from time to time we heard of their depredations in other
quarters. Not long after our night in the goods-wagon, two men were
carried off from railhead, while another was taken from a place called
Engomani, about ten miles away. Within a very short time, this latter
place was again visited by the brutes, two more men being seized, one
of whom was killed and eaten, and the other so badly mauled that he
died within few days. As I have said, however, we at Tsavo enjoyed
complete immunity from attack, and the coolies, believing that their
dreaded foes had permanently deserted the district, resumed all their
usual habits and occupations, and life in the camps returned to its
normal routine.
At last we were suddenly startled out of this feeling of security. One
dark night the familiar terror-stricken cries and screams awoke the
camps, and we knew that the "demons" had returned and had commenced a
new list of victims. On this occasion a number of men had been sleeping
outside their tents for the sake of coolness, thinking, of course, that
the lions had gone for good, when suddenly in the middle of the night
one of the brutes was discovered forcing its way through the boma. The
alarm was at once given, and sticks, stones and firebrands were hurled
in the direction of the intruder. All was of no avail, however, for the
lion burst into the midst of the terrified group, seized an unfortunate
wretch amid the cries and shrieks of his companions, and dragged him
off through the thick thorn fence. He was joined outside by the second
lion, and so daring had the two brutes become that they did not trouble
to carry their victim any further away, but devoured him within thirty
yards of the tent where he had been seized. Although several shots were
fired in their direction by the jemadar of the gang to which the coolie
belonged, they took no notice of these and did not attempt to move
until their horrible meal was finished. The few scattered fragments
that remained of the body I would not allow to be buried at once,
hoping that the lions would return to the spot the following night; and
on the chance of this I took up my station at nightfall in a convenient
tree. Nothing occurred to break the monotony of my watch, however,
except that I had a visit from a hyena, and the next morning I learned
that the lions had attacked another camp about two miles from
Tsavo--for by this time the camps were again scattered, as I had works
in progress all up and down the line. There the man-eaters had been
successful in obtaining a victim, whom, as in the previous instance,
they devoured quite close to the camp. How they forced their way
through the bomas without making a noise was, and still is, a mystery
to me; I should have thought that it was next to impossible for an
animal to get through at all. Yet they continually did so, and without
a sound being heard.
After this occurrence, I sat up every night for over a week near likely
camps, but all in vain. Either the lions saw me and then went
elsewhere, or else I was unlucky, for they took man after man from
different places without ever once giving me a chance of a shot at
them. This constant night watching was most dreary and fatiguing work,
but I felt that it was a duty that had to be undertaken, as the men
naturally looked to me for protection. In the whole of my life I have
never experienced anything more nerve-shaking than to hear the deep
roars of these dreadful monsters growing gradually nearer and nearer,
and to know that some one or other of us was doomed to be their victim
before morning dawned. Once they reached the vicinity of the camps, the
roars completely ceased, and we knew that they were stalking for their
prey. Shouts would then pass from camp to camp, "Khabar dar, bhaieon,
shaitan ata" ("Beware, brothers, the devil is coming"), but the warning
cries would prove of no avail, and sooner or later agonising shrieks
would break the silence, and another man would be missing from
roll-call next morning.
I was naturally very disheartened at being foiled in this way night
after night, and was soon at my wits' end to know what to do; it seemed
as if the lions were really "devils" after all and bore a charmed life.
As I have said before, tracking them through the jungle was a hopeless
task; but as something had to be done to keep up the men's spirits, I
spent many a weary day crawling on my hands and knees through the dense
undergrowth of the exasperating wilderness around us. As a matter of
fact, if I had come up with the lions on any of these expeditions, it
was much more likely that they would have added me to their list of
victims than that I should have succeeded in killing either of them, as
everything would have been in their favour. About this time, too, I had
many helpers, and several officers--civil, naval and military--came to
Tsavo from the coast and sat up night after night in order to get a
shot at our daring foes. All of us, however, met with the same lack of
success, and the lions always seemed capable of avoiding the watchers,
while succeeding, at the same time in obtaining a victim.
I have a very vivid recollection of one particular night when the
brutes seized a man from the railway station and brought him close to
my camp to devour. I could plainly hear them crunching the bones, and
the sound of their dreadful purring filled the air and rang in my ears
for days afterwards. The terrible thing was to feel so helpless; it was
useless to attempt to go out, as of course the poor fellow was dead,
and in addition it was so pitch dark as to make it impossible to see
anything. Some half a dozen workmen, who lived in a small enclosure
close to mine, became so terrified on hearing the lions at their meal
that they shouted and implored me to allow them to come inside my boma.
This I willingly did, but soon afterwards I remembered that one man had
been lying ill in their camp, and on making enquiry I found that they
had callously left him behind alone. I immediately took some men with
me to bring him to my boma, but on entering his tent I saw by the light
of the lantern that the poor fellow was beyond need of safety. He had
died of shock at being deserted by his companions.
From this time matters gradually became worse and worse. Hitherto, as a
rule, only one of the man-eaters had made the attack and had done the
foraging, while the other waited outside in the bush; but now they
began to change their tactics, entering the bomas together and each
seizing a victim. In this way two Swahili porters were killed during
the last week of November, one being immediately carried off and
devoured. The other was heard moaning for a long time, and when his
terrified companions at last summoned up sufficient courage to go to
his assistance, they found him stuck fast in the bushes of the boma,
through which for once the lion had apparently been unable to drag him.
He was still alive when I saw him next morning, but so terribly mauled
that he died before he could be got to the hospital.
Within a few days of this the two brutes made a most ferocious attack
on the largest camp in the section, which for safety's sake was
situated within a stone's throw of Tsavo Station and close to a
Permanent Way Inspector's iron hut. Suddenly in the dead of night the
two man-eaters burst in among the terrified workmen, and even from my
boma, some distance away, I could plainly hear the panic-stricken
shrieking of the coolies. Then followed cries of "They've taken him;
they've taken him," as the brutes carried off their unfortunate victim
and began their horrible feast close beside the camp. The Inspector,
Mr. Dalgairns, fired over fifty shots in the direction in which he
heard the lions, but they were not to be frightened and calmly lay
there until their meal was finished. After examining the spot in the
morning, we at once set out to follow the brutes, Mr. Dalgairns feeling
confident that he had wounded one of them, as there was a trail on the
sand like that of the toes of a broken limb. After some careful
stalking, we suddenly found ourselves in the vicinity of the lions, and
were greeted with ominous growlings. Cautiously advancing and pushing
the bushes aside, we saw in the gloom what we at first took to be a
lion cub; closer inspection, however, showed it to be the remains of
the unfortunate coolie, which the man-eaters had evidently abandoned at
our approach. The legs, one arm and half the body had been eaten, and
it was the stiff fingers of the other arm trailing along the sand which
had left the marks we had taken to be the trail of a wounded lion. By
this time the beasts had retired far into the thick jungle where it was
impossible to follow them, so we had the remains of the coolie buried
and once more returned home disappointed.
Now the bravest men in the world, much less the ordinary Indian coolie,
will not stand constant terrors of this sort indefinitely. The whole
district was by this time thoroughly panic-stricken, and I was not at
all surprised, therefore, to find on my return to camp that same
afternoon (December 1) that the men had all struck work and were
waiting to speak to me. When I sent for them, they flocked to my boma
in a body and stated that they would not remain at Tsavo any longer for
anything or anybody; they had come from India on an agreement to work
for the Government, not to supply food for either lions or "devils." No
sooner had they delivered this ultimatum than a regular stampede took
place. Some hundreds of them stopped the first passing train by
throwing themselves on the rails in front of the engine, and then,
swarming on to the trucks and throwing in their possessions anyhow,
they fled from the accursed spot.
After this the railway works were completely stopped; and for the next
three weeks practically nothing was done but build "lion-proof" huts
for those workmen who had had sufficient courage to remain. It was a
strange and amusing sight to see these shelters perched on the top of
water-tanks, roofs and girders--anywhere for safety--while some even
went so far as to dig pits inside their tents, into which they
descended at night, covering the top over with heavy logs of wood.
Every good-sized tree in the camp had as many beds lashed on to it as
its branches would bear--and sometimes more. I remember that one night
when the camp was attacked, so many men swarmed on to one particular
tree that down it came with a crash, hurling its terror-stricken load
of shrieking coolies close to the very lions they were trying to avoid.
Fortunately for them, a victim had already been secured, and the brutes
were too busy devouring him to pay attention to anything else.
CHAPTER VII
THE DISTRICT OFFICER'S NARROW ESCAPE
Some little time before the flight of the workmen, I had written to Mr.
Whitehead, the District Officer, asking him to come up and assist me in
my campaign against the lions, and to bring with him any of his askaris
(native soldiers) that he could spare. He replied accepting the
invitation, and told me to expect him about dinner-time on December 2,
which turned out to be the day after the exodus. His train was due at
Tsavo about six o'clock in the evening, so I sent my "boy" up to the
station to meet him and to help in carrying his baggage to the camp. In
a very short time, however, the "boy" rushed back trembling with
terror, and informed me that there was no sign of the train or of the
railway staff, but that an enormous lion was standing on the station
platform. This extraordinary story I did not believe in the least, as
by this time the coolies--never remarkable for bravery--were in such a
state of fright that if they caught sight of a hyena or a baboon, or
even a dog, in the bush, they were sure to imagine it was a lion; but I
found out next day that it was an actual fact, and that both
stationmaster and signalman had been obliged to take refuge from one of
the man-eaters by locking themselves in the station building.
I waited some little time for Mr. Whitehead, but eventually, as he did
not put in an appearance, I concluded that he must have postponed his
journey until the next day, and so had my dinner in my customary
solitary state. During the meal I heard a couple of shots, but paid no
attention to them, as rifles were constantly being fired off in the
neighbourhood of the camp. Later in the evening, I went out as usual to
watch for our elusive foes, and took up my position in a crib made of
sleepers which I had built on a big girder close to a camp which I
thought was likely to be attacked. Soon after settling down at my post,
I was surprised to hear the man-eaters growling and purring and
crunching up bones about seventy yards from the crib. I could not
understand what they had found to eat, as I had heard no commotion in
the camps, and I knew by bitter experience that every meal the brutes
obtained from us was announced by shrieks and uproar. The only
conclusion I could come to was that they had pounced upon some poor
unsuspecting native traveller. After a time I was able to make out
their eyes glowing in the darkness, and I took as careful aim as was
possible in the circumstances and fired; but the only notice they paid
to the shot was to carry off whatever they were devouring and to retire
quietly over a slight rise, which prevented me from seeing them. There
they finished their meal at their ease.
As soon as it was daylight, I got out of my crib and went towards the
place where I had last heard them. On the way, whom should I meet but
my missing guest, Mr. Whitehead, looking very pale and ill, and
generally dishevelled.
"Where on earth have you come from?" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you turn
up to dinner last night?"
"A nice reception you give a fellow when you invite him to dinner," was
his only reply.
"Why, what's up?" I asked.
"That infernal lion of yours nearly did for me last night," said
Whitehead.
"Nonsense, you must have dreamed it!" I cried in astonishment.
For answer he turned round and showed me his back. "That's not much of
a dream, is it?" he asked.
His clothing was rent by one huge tear from the nape of the neck
downwards, and on the flesh there were four great claw marks, showing
red and angry through the torn cloth. Without further parley, I hurried
him off to my tent, and bathed and dressed his wounds; and when I had
made him considerably more comfortable, I got from him the whole story
of the events of the night.
It appeared that his train was very late, so that it was quite dark
when he arrived at Tsavo Station, from which the track to my camp lay
through a small cutting. He was accompanied by Abdullah, his sergeant
of askaris, who walked close behind him carrying a lighted lamp. All
went well until they were about half-way through the gloomy cutting,
when one of the lions suddenly jumped down upon them from the high
bank, knocking Whitehead over like a ninepin, and tearing his back in
the manner I had seen. Fortunately, however, he had his carbine with
him, and instantly fired. The flash and the loud report must have dazed
the lion for a second or two, enabling Whitehead to disengage himself;
but the next instant the brute pounced like lightning on the
unfortunate Abdullah, with whom he at once made off. All that the poor
fellow could say was: "Eh, Bwana, simba" ("Oh, Master, a lion"). As the
lion was dragging him over the bank, Whitehead fired again, but without
effect, and the brute quickly disappeared into the darkness with his
prey. It was of course, this unfortunate man whom I had heard the lions
devouring during the night. Whitehead himself had a marvellous escape;
his wounds were happily not very deep, and caused him little or no
inconvenience afterwards.
On the same day, December 3, the forces arrayed against the lions were
further strengthened. Mr. Farquhar, the Superintendent of Police,
arrived from the coast with a score of sepoys to assist in hunting down
the man-eaters, whose fame had by this time spread far and wide, and
the most elaborate precautions were taken, his men being posted on the
most convenient trees near every camp. Several other officials had also
come up on leave to join in the chase, and each of these guarded a
likely spot in the same way, Mr. Whitehead sharing my post inside the
crib on the girder. Further, in spite of some chaff, my lion trap was
put in thorough working order, and two of the sepoys were installed as
bait.
Our preparations were quite complete by nightfall, and we all took up
our appointed positions. Nothing happened until about nine o'clock,
when to my great satisfaction the intense stillness was suddenly broken
by the noise of the door of the trap clattering down. "At last," I
thought, "one at least of the brutes is done for." But the sequel was
an ignominious one.
The bait-sepoys had a lamp burning inside their part of the cage, and
were each armed with a Martini rifle, with plenty of ammunition. They
had also been given strict orders to shoot at once if a lion should
enter the trap. Instead of doing so, however, they were so terrified
when he rushed in and began to lash himself madly against the bars of
the cage, that they completely lost their heads and were actually too
unnerved to fire. Not for some minutes--not, indeed, until Mr.
Farquhar, whose post was close by, shouted at them and cheered them
on--did they at all recover themselves. Then when at last they did
begin to fire, they fired with a vengeance--anywhere, anyhow. Whitehead
and I were at right angles to the direction in which they should have
shot, and yet their bullets came whizzing all round us. Altogether they
fired over a score of shots, and in the end succeeded only in blowing
away one of the bars of the door, thus allowing our prize to make good
his escape. How they failed to kill him several times over is, and
always will be, a complete mystery to me, as they could have put the
muzzles of their rifles absolutely touching his body. There was,
indeed, some blood scattered about the trap, but it was small
consolation to know that the brute, whose capture and death seemed so
certain, had only been slightly wounded.
Still we were not unduly dejected, and when morning came, a hunt was at
once arranged. Accordingly we spent the greater part of the day on our
hands and knees following the lions through the dense thickets of
thorny jungle, but though we heard their growls from time to time, we
never succeeded in actually coming up with them. Of the whole party,
only Farquhar managed to catch a momentary glimpse of one as it bounded
over a bush. Two days more were spent in the same manner, and with
equal unsuccess; and then Farquhar and his sepoys were obliged to
return to the coast. Mr. Whitehead also departed for his district, and
once again I was left alone with the man-eaters.
CHAPTER VIII
THE DEATH OF THE FIRST MAN-EATER
A day or two after the departure of my allies, as I was leaving my boma
soon after dawn on December 9, I saw a Swahili running excitedly
towards me, shouting out "Simba! Simba!" ("Lion! Lion!"), and every now
and again looking behind him as he ran. On questioning him I found that
the lions had tried to snatch a man from the camp by the river, but
being foiled in this had seized and killed one of the donkeys, and were
at that moment busy devouring it not far off. Now was my chance.
I rushed for the heavy rifle which Farquhar had kindly left with me for
use in case an opportunity such as this should arise, and, led by the
Swahili, I started most carefully to stalk the lions, who, I devoutly
hoped, were confining their attention strictly to their meal. I was
getting on splendidly, and could just make out the outline of one of
them through the dense bush, when unfortunately my guide snapped a
rotten branch. The wily beast heard the noise, growled his defiance,
and disappeared in a moment into a patch of even thicker jungle close
by. In desperation at the thought of his escaping me once again, I
crept hurriedly back to the camp, summoned the available workmen and
told them to bring all the tom-toms, tin cans, and other noisy
instruments of any kind that could be found. As quickly as possible I
posted them in a half-circle round the thicket, and gave the head
jemadar instructions to start a simultaneous beating of the tom-toms
and cans as soon as he judged that I had had time to get round to the
other side. I then crept round by myself and soon found a good position
and one which the lion was most likely to retreat past, as it was in
the middle of a broad animal path leading straight from the place where
he was concealed. I lay down behind a small ant hill, and waited
expectantly. Very soon I heard a tremendous din being raised by the
advancing line of coolies, and almost immediately, to my intense joy,
out into the open path stepped a huge maneless lion. It was the first
occasion during all these trying months upon which I had had a fair
chance at one of these brutes, and my satisfaction at the prospect of
bagging him was unbounded.
Slowly he advanced along the path, stopping every few seconds to look
round. I was only partially concealed from view, and if his attention
had not been so fully occupied by the noise behind him, he must have
observed me. As he was oblivious to my presence, however, I let him
approach to within about fifteen yards of me, and then covered him with
my rifle. The moment I moved to do this, he caught sight of me, and
seemed much astonished at my sudden appearance, for he stuck his
forefeet into the ground, threw himself back on his haunches and
growled savagely. As I covered his brain with my rifle, I felt that at
last I had him absolutely at my mercy, but .... never trust an
untried weapon! I pulled the trigger, and to my horror heard the dull
snap that tells of a misfire.
Worse was to follow. I was so taken aback and disconcerted by this
untoward accident that I entirely forgot to fire the left barrel, and
lowered the rifle from my shoulder with the intention of reloading--if
I should be given time. Fortunately for me, the lion was so distracted
by the terrific din and uproar of the coolies behind him that instead
of springing on me, as might have been expected, he bounded aside into
the jungle again. By this time I had collected my wits, and just as he
jumped I let him have the left barrel. An answering angry growl told me
that he had been hit; but nevertheless he succeeded once more in
getting clear away, for although I tracked him for some little
distance, I eventually lost his trail in a rocky patch of ground.
Bitterly did I anathematise the hour in which I had relied on a
borrowed weapon, and in my disappointment and vexation I abused owner,
maker, and rifle with fine impartiality. On extracting the unexploded
cartridge, I found that the needle had not struck home, the cap being
only slightly dented; so that the whole fault did indeed lie with the
rifle, which I later returned to Farquhar with polite compliments.
Seriously, however, my continued ill-luck was most exasperating; and
the result was that the Indians were more than ever confirmed in their
belief that the lions were really evil spirits, proof against mortal
weapons. Certainly, they did seem to bear charmed lives.
After this dismal failure there was, of course, nothing to do but to
return to camp. Before doing so, however, I proceeded to view the dead
donkey, which I found to have been only slightly devoured it the
quarters. It is a curious fact that lions always begin at the tail of
their prey and eat upwards towards the head. As their meal had thus
been interrupted evidently at the very beginning, I felt pretty sure
that one or other of the brutes would return to the carcase at
nightfall. Accordingly, as there was no tree of any kind close at hand,
I had a staging erected some ten feet away from the body. This machan
was about twelve feet high and was composed of four poles stuck into
the ground and inclined towards each other at the top, where a plank
was lashed to serve as a seat. Further, as the nights were still pitch
dark, I had the donkey's carcase secured by strong wires to a
neighbouring stump, so that the lions might not be able to drag it away
before I could get a shot at them.
At sundown, therefore, I took up my position on my airy perch, and much
to the disgust of my gun-bearer, Mahina, I decided to go alone. I would
gladly have taken him with me, indeed, but he had a bad cough, and I
was afraid lest he should make any involuntary noise or movement which
might spoil all. Darkness fell almost immediately, and everything
became extraordinarily still. The silence of an African jungle on a
dark night needs to be experienced to be realised; it is most
impressive, especially when one is absolutely alone and isolated from
one's fellow creatures, as I was then. The solitude and stillness, and
the purpose of my vigil, all had their effect on me, and from a
condition of strained expectancy I gradually fell into a dreamy mood
which harmonised well with my surroundings. Suddenly I was startled out
of my reverie by the snapping of a twig: and, straining my ears for a
further sound, I fancied I could hear the rustling of a large body
forcing its way through the bush. "The man-eater," I thought to myself;
"surely to-night my luck will change and I shall bag one of the
brutes." Profound silence again succeeded; I sat on my eyrie like a
statue, every nerve tense with excitement. Very soon, however, all
doubt as to the presence of the lion was dispelled. A deep long-drawn
sigh--sure sign of hunger--came up from the bushes, and the rustling
commenced again as he cautiously advanced. In a moment or two a sudden
stop, followed by an angry growl, told me that my presence had been
noticed; and I began to fear that disappointment awaited me once more.
But no; matters quickly took an unexpected turn. The hunter became the
hunted; and instead of either making off or coming for the bait
prepared for him, the lion began stealthily to stalk me! For about two
hours he horrified me by slowly creeping round and round my crazy
structure, gradually edging his way nearer and nearer. Every moment I
expected him to rush it; and the staging had not been constructed with
an eye to such a possibility. If one of the rather flimsy poles should
break, or if the lion could spring the twelve feet which separated me
from the ground ... the thought was scarcely a pleasant one. I began
to feel distinctly "creepy," and heartily repented my folly in having
placed myself in such a dangerous position. I kept perfectly still,
however, hardly daring even to blink my eyes: but the long-continued
strain was telling on my nerves, and my feelings may be better imagined
than described when about midnight suddenly something came flop and
struck me on the back of the head. For a moment I was so terrified that
I nearly fell off the plank, as I thought that the lion had sprung on
me from behind. Regaining my senses in a second or two, I realised that
I had been hit by nothing more formidable than an owl, which had
doubtless mistaken me for the branch of a tree--not a very alarming
thing to happen in ordinary circumstances, I admit, but coming at the
time it did, it almost paralysed me. The involuntary start which I
could not help giving was immediately answered by a sinister growl from
below.
After this I again kept as still as I could, though absolutely
trembling with excitement; and in a short while I heard the lion begin
to creep stealthily towards me. I could barely make out his form as he
crouched among the whitish undergrowth; but I saw enough for my
purpose, and before he could come any nearer, I took careful aim and
pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot was at once followed by a
most terrific roar, and then I could hear him leaping about in all
directions. I was no longer able to see him, however, as his first
bound had taken him into the thick bush; but to make assurance doubly
sure, I kept blazing away in the direction in which I heard him
plunging about. At length came a series of mighty groans, gradually
subsiding into deep sighs, and finally ceasing altogether; and I felt
convinced that one of the "devils" who had so long harried us would
trouble us no more.
As soon as I ceased firing, a tumult of inquiring voices was borne
across the dark jungle from the men in camp about a quarter of a mile
away. I shouted back that I was safe and sound, and that one of the
lions was dead: whereupon such a mighty cheer went up from all the
camps as must have astonished the denizens of the jungle for miles
around. Shortly I saw scores of lights twinkling through the bushes:
every man in camp turned out, and with tom-toms beating and horns
blowing came running to the scene. They surrounded my eyrie, and to my
amazement prostrated themselves on the ground before me, saluting me
with cries of "Mabarak! Mabarak!" which I believe means "blessed one"
or "saviour." All the same, I refused to allow any search to be made
that night for the body of the lion, in case his companion might be
close by; besides, it was possible that he might be still alive, and
capable of making a last spring. Accordingly we all returned in triumph
to the camp, where great rejoicings were kept up for the remainder of
the night, the Swahili and other African natives celebrating the
occasion by an especially wild and savage dance.
For my part, I anxiously awaited the dawn; and even before it was
thoroughly light I was on my way to the eventful spot, as I could not
completely persuade myself that even yet the "devil" might not have
eluded me in some uncanny and mysterious way. Happily my fears proved
groundless, and I was relieved to find that my luck--after playing me
so many exasperating tricks--had really turned at last. I had scarcely
traced the blood for more than a few paces when, on rounding a bush, I
was startled to see a huge lion right in front of me, seemingly alive
and crouching for a spring. On looking closer, however, I satisfied
myself that he was really and truly stone-dead, whereupon my followers
crowded round, laughed and danced and shouted with joy like children,
and bore me in triumph shoulder-high round the dead body. These
thanksgiving ceremonies being over, I examined the body and found that
two bullets had taken effect--one close behind the left shoulder,
evidently penetrating the heart, and the other in the off hind leg. The
prize was indeed one to be proud of; his length from tip of nose to tip
of tail was nine feet eight inches, he stood three feet nine inches
high, and it took eight men to carry him back to camp. The only blemish
was that the skin was much scored by the boma thorns through which he
had so often forced his way in carrying off his victims.
The news of the death of one of the notorious man-eaters soon spread
far and wide over the country: telegrams of congratulation came pouring
in, and scores of people flocked from up and down the railway to see
the skin for themselves.
CHAPTER IX
THE DEATH OF THE SECOND MAN-EATER
It must not be imagined that with the death of this lion our troubles
at Tsavo were at an end; his companion was still at large, and very
soon began to make us unpleasantly aware of the fact. Only a few nights
elapsed before he made an attempt to get at the Permanent Way
Inspector, climbing up the steps of his bungalow and prowling round the
verandah. The Inspector, hearing the noise and thinking it was a
drunken coolie, shouted angrily "Go away!" but, fortunately for him,
did not attempt to come out or to open the door. Thus disappointed in
his attempt to obtain a meal of human flesh, the lion seized a couple
of the Inspector's goats and devoured them there and then.
On hearing of this occurrence, I determined to sit up the next night
near the Inspector's bungalow. Fortunately there was a vacant iron
shanty close at hand, with a convenient loophole in it for firing from;
and outside this I placed three full-grown goats as bait, tying them to
a half-length of rail, weighing about 250 lbs. The night passed
uneventfully until just before daybreak, when at last the lion turned
up, pounced on one of the goats and made off with it, at the same time
dragging away the others, rail and all. I fired several shots in his
direction, but it was pitch dark and quite impossible to see anything,
so I only succeeded in hitting one of the goats. I often longed for a
flash-light on such occasions.
Next morning I started off in pursuit and was joined by some others
from the camp. I found that the trail of the goats and rail was easily
followed, and we soon came up, about a quarter of a mile away, to where
the lion was still busy at his meal. He was concealed in some thick
bush and growled angrily on hearing our approach; finally, as we got
closer, he suddenly made a charge, rushing through the bushes at a
great pace. In an instant, every man of the party scrambled hastily up
the nearest tree, with the exception of one of my assistants, Mr.
Winkler, who stood steadily by me throughout. The brute, however, did
not press his charge home: and on throwing stones into the bushes where
we had last seen him, we guessed by the silence that he had slunk off.
We therefore advanced cautiously, and on getting up to the place
discovered that he had indeed escaped us, leaving two off the goats
scarcely touched.
Thinking that in all probability the lion would return as usual to
finish his meal, I had a very strong scaffolding put up a few feet away
from the dead goats, and took up my position on it before dark. On this
occasion I brought my gun-bearer, Mahina, to take a turn at watching,
as I was by this time worn out for want of sleep, having spent so many
nights on the look-out. I was just dozing off comfortably when suddenly
I felt my arm seized, and on looking up saw Mahina pointing in the
direction of the goats. "Sher!" ("Lion!") was all he whispered. I
grasped my double smooth-bore, which, I had charged with slug, and
waited patiently. In a few moments I was rewarded, for as I watched the
spot where I expected the lion to appear, there was a rustling among
the bushes and I saw him stealthily emerge into the open and pass
almost directly beneath us. I fired both barrels practically together
into his shoulder, and to my joy could see him go down under the force
of the blow. Quickly I reached for the magazine rifle, but before I
could use it, he was out of sight among the bushes, and I had to fire
after him quite at random. Nevertheless I was confident of getting him
in the morning, and accordingly set out as soon as it was light. For
over a mile there was no difficulty in following the blood-trail, and
as he had rested several times I felt sure that he had been badly
wounded. In the end, however, my hunt proved fruitless, for after a
time the traces of blood ceased and the surface of the ground became
rocky, so that I was no longer able to follow the spoor.
About this time Sir Guilford Molesworth, K.C.I.E., late Consulting
Engineer to the Government of India for State Railways, passed through
Tsavo on a tour of inspection on behalf of the Foreign Office. After
examining the bridge and other works and expressing his satisfaction,
he took a number of photographs, one or two of which he has kindly
allowed me to reproduce in this book. He thoroughly sympathised with us
in all the trials we had endured from the man-eaters, and was delighted
that one at least was dead. When he asked me if I expected to get the
second lion soon, I well remember his half-doubting smile as I rather
too confidently asserted that I hoped to bag him also in the course of
a few days.
As it happened, there was no sign of our enemy for about ten days after
this, and we began to hope that he had died of his wounds in the bush.
All the same we still took every precaution at night, and it was
fortunate that we did so, as otherwise at least one more victim would
have been added to the list. For on the night of December 27, I was
suddenly aroused by terrified shouts from my trolley men, who slept in
a tree close outside my boma, to the effect that a lion was trying to
get at them. It would have been madness to have gone out, as the moon
was hidden by dense clouds and it was absolutely impossible to see
anything more than a yard in front of one; so all I could do was to
fire off a few rounds just to frighten the brute away. This apparently
had the desired effect, for the men were not further molested that
night; but the man-eater had evidently prowled about for some time, for
we found in the morning that he had gone right into every one of their
tents, and round the tree was a regular ring of his footmarks.
The following evening I took up my position in this same tree, in the
hope that he would make another attempt. The night began badly, as,
while climbing up to my perch I very nearly put my hand on a venomous
snake which was lying coiled round one of the branches. As may be
imagined, I came down again very quickly, but one of my men managed to
despatch it with a long pole. Fortunately the night was clear and
cloudless, and the moon made every thing almost as bright as day. I
kept watch until about 2 a.m., when I roused Mahina to take his turn.
For about an hour I slept peacefully with my back to the tree, and then
woke suddenly with an uncanny feeling that something was wrong. Mahina,
however, was on the alert, and had seen nothing; and although I looked
carefully round us on all sides, I too could discover nothing unusual.
Only half satisfied, I was about to lie back again, when I fancied I
saw something move a little way off among the low bushes. On gazing
intently at the spot for a few seconds, I found I was not mistaken. It
was the man-eater, cautiously stalking us.
The ground was fairly open round our tree, with only a small bush every
here and there; and from our position it was a most fascinating sight
to watch this great brute stealing stealthily round us, taking
advantage of every bit of cover as he came. His skill showed that he
was an old hand at the terrible game of man-hunting: so I determined to
run no undue risk of losing him this time. I accordingly waited until
he got quite close--about twenty yards away--and then fired my .303 at
his chest. I heard the bullet strike him, but unfortunately it had no
knockdown effect, for with a fierce growl he turned and made off with
great long bounds. Before he disappeared from sight, however, I managed
to have three more shots at him from the magazine rifle, and another
growl told me that the last of these had also taken effect.
We awaited daylight with impatience, and at the first glimmer of dawn
we set out to hunt him down. I took a native tracker with me, so that I
was free to keep a good look-out, while Mahina followed immediately
behind with a Martini carbine. Splashes of blood being plentiful, we
were able to get along quickly; and we had not proceeded more than a
quarter of a mile through the jungle when suddenly a fierce warning
growl was heard right in front of us. Looking cautiously through the
bushes, I could see the man-eater glaring out in our direction, and
showing his tusks in an angry snarl. I at once took careful aim and
fired. Instantly he sprang out and made a most determined charge down
on us. I fired again and knocked him over; but in a second he was up
once more and coming for me as fast as he could in his crippled
condition. A third shot had no apparent effect, so I put out my hand
for the Martini, hoping to stop him with it. To my dismay, however, it
was not there. The terror of the sudden charge had proved too much for
Mahina, and both he and the carbine were by this time well on their way
up a tree. In the circumstances there was nothing to do but follow
suit, which I did without loss of time: and but for the fact that one
of my shots had broken a hind leg, the brute would most certainly have
had me. Even as it was, I had barely time to swing myself up out of his
reach before he arrived at the foot of the tree.
When the lion found he was too late, he started to limp back to the
thicket; but by this time I had seized the carbine from Mahina, and the
first shot I fired from it seemed to give him his quietus, for he fell
over and lay motionless. Rather foolishly, I at once scrambled down
from the tree and walked up towards him. To my surprise and no little
alarm he jumped up and attempted another charge. This time, however, a
Martini bullet in the chest and another in the head finished him for
good and all; he dropped in his tracks not five yards away from me, and
died gamely, biting savagely at a branch which had fallen to the ground.
By this time all the workmen in camp, attracted by the sound of the
firing, had arrived on the scene, and so great was their resentment
against the brute who had killed such numbers of their comrades that it
was only with the greatest difficulty that I could restrain them from
tearing the dead body to pieces. Eventually, amid the wild rejoicings
of the natives and coolies, I had the lion carried to my boma, which
was close at hand. On examination we found no less than six bullet
holes in the body, and embedded only a little way in the flesh of the
back was the slug which I had fired into him from the scaffolding about
ten days previously. He measured nine feet six inches from tip of nose
to tip of tail, and stood three feet eleven and a half inches high;
but, as in the case of his companion, the skin was disfigured by being
deeply scored all over by the boma thorns.
The news of the death of the second "devil" soon spread far and wide
over the country, and natives actually travelled from up and down the
line to have a look at my trophies and at the "devil-killer", as they
called me. Best of all, the coolies who had absconded came flocking
back to Tsavo, and much to my relief work was resumed and we were never
again troubled by man-eaters. It was amusing, indeed, to notice the
change which took place in the attitude of the workmen towards me after
I had killed the two lions. Instead of wishing to murder me, as they
once did, they could not now do enough for me, and as a token of their
gratitude they presented me with a beautiful silver bowl, as well as
with a long poem written in Hindustani describing all our trials and my
ultimate victory. As the poem relates our troubles in somewhat quaint
and biblical language, I have given a translation of it in the
appendix. The bowl I shall always consider my most highly prized and
hardest won trophy. The inscription on it reads as follows:--
SIR,--We, your Overseer, Timekeepers, Mistaris and Workmen, present you
with this bowl as a token of our gratitude to you for your bravery in
killing two man-eating lions at great risk to your own life, thereby
saving us from the fate of being devoured by these terrible monsters
who nightly broke into our tents and took our fellow-workers from our
side. In presenting you with this bowl, we all add our prayers for your
long life, happiness and prosperity. We shall ever remain, Sir, Your
grateful servants,
Baboo PURSHOTAM HURJEE PURMAR,
Overseer and Clerk of Works,
on behalf of your Workmen.
Dated at Tsavo, January 30, 1899.
Before I leave the subject of "the man-eaters of Tsavo," it may be of
interest to mention that these two lions possess the distinction,
probably unique among wild animals, of having been specifically
referred to in the House of Lords by the Prime Minister of the day.
Speaking of the difficulties which had been encountered in the
construction of the Uganda Railway, the late Lord Salisbury said:--
"The whole of the works were put a stop to for three weeks because a
party of man-eating lions appeared in the locality and conceived a most
unfortunate taste for our porters. At last the labourers entirely
declined to go on unless they were guarded by an iron entrenchment. Of
course it is difficult to work a railway under these conditions, and
until we found an enthusiastic sportsman to get rid of these lions, our
enterprise was seriously hindered."
Also, The Spectator of March 3, 1900, had an article entitled "The
Lions that Stopped the Railway," from which the following extracts are
taken:--
"The parallel to the story of the lions which stopped the rebuilding of
Samaria must occur to everyone, and if the Samaritans had quarter as
good cause for their fears as had the railway coolies, their wish to
propitiate the local deities is easily understood. If the whole body of
lion anecdote, from the days of the Assyrian Kings till the last year
of the nineteenth century, were collated and brought together, it would
not equal in tragedy or atrocity, in savageness or in sheer insolent
contempt for man, armed or unarmed, white or black, the story of these
two beasts.
"To what a distance the whole story carries us back, and how impossible
it becomes to account for the survival of primitive man against this
kind of foe! For fire--which has hitherto been regarded as his main
safeguard against the carnivora--these cared nothing. It is curious
that the Tsavo lions were not killed by poison, for strychnine is
easily used, and with effect. (I may mention that poison was tried, but
without effect. The poisoned carcases of transport animals which had
died from the bite of the tsetse fly were placed in likely spots, but
the wily man-eaters would not touch them, and much preferred live men
to dead donkeys.) Poison may have been used early in the history of
man, for its powers are employed with strange skill by the men in the
tropical forest, both in American and West Central Africa. But there is
no evidence that the old inhabitants of Europe, or of Assyria or Asia
Minor, ever killed lions or wolves by this means. They looked to the
King or chief, or some champion, to kill these monsters for them. It
was not the sport but the duty of. Kings, and was in itself a title to
be a ruler of men. Theseus, who cleared the roads of beasts and
robbers; Hercules, the lion killer; St. George, the dragon-slayer, and
all the rest of their class owed to this their everlasting fame. From
the story of the Tsavo River we can appreciate their services to man
even at this distance of time. When the jungle twinkled with hundreds
of lamps, as the shout went on from camp to camp that the first lion
was dead, as the hurrying crowds fell prostrate in the midnight forest,
laying their heads on his feet, and the Africans danced savage and
ceremonial dances of thanksgiving, Mr. Patterson must have realised in
no common way what it was to have been a hero and deliverer in the days
when man was not yet undisputed lord of the creation, and might pass at
any moment under the savage dominion of the beasts."
Well had the two man-eaters earned all this fame; they had devoured
between them no less than twenty-eight Indian coolies, in addition to
scores of unfortunate African natives of whom no official record was
kept.
CHAPTER X
THE COMPLETION OF THE TSAVO BRIDGE
When all the excitement had died down and there was no longer any dread
of the man-eaters, work went on briskly, and the bridge over the Tsavo
rapidly neared completion. As the piers and abutments progressed in
height, the question of how to lift the large stones into their
positions had to be solved. We possessed no cranes for this purpose, so
I set to work and improvised a shears made of a couple of thirty-foot
rails. These were bolted together at the top, while the other ends were
fixed at a distance of about ten feet apart in a large block of wood.
This contrivance acted capitally, and by manipulation of ropes and
pulleys the heavy stones were swung into position quickly and without
difficulty, so that in a very short time the masonry of the bridge was
completed.
The next business was to span the sixty-foot distance between the piers
with iron girders. As I had neither winches nor sufficient blocks and
tackle to haul these over into position, I was driven to erect
temporary piers in the middle of each span, built up crib-shape of
wooden sleepers. Great wooden beams were stretched across from the
stone piers to these cribs, and laid with rails; and the girder was run
over its exact place, while still on the trucks in which it had been
brought up from the coast. It was next "jacked" up from the trucks,
which were hauled away empty, the temporary bridge was dismantled, and
the girder finally lowered gently into position. When the last girder
was thus successfully placed, no time was lost in linking up the
permanent way, and very soon I had the satisfaction of seeing the first
train cross the finished work.
Curiously enough, only a day or so after the bridge had been completed
and the intermediate cribs cleared away, a tremendous rain-storm broke
over the country. The river started to rise rapidly, soon flooding its
banks and becoming a raging murky torrent, tearing up trees by the
roots and whirling them along like straws. Steadily higher and higher
rose the flood, and standing on my bridge, I watched expectantly for
the two temporary trolley bridges--which, it will be remembered, we had
built across the stream in order to bring stone and sand to the main
work--to give way before the ever-rising volume of water. Nor had I
long to wait; for I soon caught sight of a solid mass of palm stems and
railway sleepers sweeping with almost irresistible force round the bend
of the river some little distance above the bridge. This I knew was the
debris of the trolley crossing furthest up the river. On it came, and
with it an additional bank of stormy-looking water. I held my breath
for the space of a moment as it actually leaped at the second frail
structure; there was a dull thud and a rending and riving of timbers,
and then the flood rolled on towards me, leaving not a vestige of the
two bridges behind it. The impact, indeed, was so great that the rails
were twisted round the broken tree-trunks as if they had been so much
ordinary wire. The double tier of wreckage now swept forward, and
hurled itself with a sullen plunge against the cutwaters of my stone
piers. The shock was great, but to my immense satisfaction the bridge
took it without a tremor, and I saw the remnant of the temporary
crossings swirl through the great spans and quickly disappear on its
journey to the ocean. I confess that I witnessed the whole occurrence
with a thrill of pride.
We were never long without excitement of some kind or another at Tsavo.
When the camp was not being attacked by man-eating lions, it was
visited by leopards, hyenas, wild dogs, wild cats, and other
inhabitants of the jungle around us. These animals did a great deal of
damage to the herds of sheep and goats which were kept to supply the
commissariat, and there was always great rejoicing when a capture was
made in one of the many traps that were laid for them.
Leopards especially are most destructive, often killing simply for
pleasure and not for food: and I have always harboured animosity
towards them since the night when one wantonly destroyed a whole herd
of mine. I happened at the time to have a flock of about thirty sheep
and goats which I kept for food and for milk, and which were secured at
sundown in a grass hut at one corner of my boma. One particularly dark
night we were startled by a tremendous commotion in this shed, but as
this was before the man-eaters were killed, no one dared stir out to
investigate the cause of the disturbance. I naturally thought that the
intruder was one of the "demons," but all I could do was to fire
several shots in the direction of the hut, hoping to frighten him away.
In spite of these, however, it was some time before the noise died down
and everything became still again. As soon as it was dawn I went to the
shed to see what had happened, and there, to my intense anger, I found
every one of my sheep and goats lying stretched dead, on the ground
with its throat bitten through. A hole had been made through the frail
wall of the shed, and I saw from this and from the tracks all round
that the author of the wholesale slaughter had been a leopard. He had
not eaten one of the flock, but had killed them all out of pure love of
destruction.
I hoped that he would return the next night to make a meal; and should
he do so, I determined to have my revenge. I accordingly left the
carcases exactly as they lay, and having a very powerful steel
trap--like an enormous rat-trap, and quite strong enough to hold a
leopard if he should put his foot in it--I placed this in the opening
into the shed and secured it by a stout chain to a long stake driven
into the ground outside. Darkness found everyone in my boma on the
alert and listening anxiously to hear the noise the leopard would make
the moment he was caught in the trap. Nor were we disappointed, for
about midnight we heard the click of the powerful spring, followed
immediately by frantic roaring and plunging. I had been sitting all
evening with my rifle by my side and a lantern lighted, so I
immediately rushed out, followed by the chaukidar (watchman) carrying
the lamp. As we approached the shed, the leopard made a frantic spring
in our direction as far as the chain would allow him, and this so
frightened the chaukidar that he fled in terror, leaving me in utter
darkness. The night was as black as had been the previous one, and I
could see absolutely nothing; but I knew the general direction in which
to fire and accordingly emptied my magazine at the beast. As far as I
could make out, he kept dodging in and out through the broken wall of
the goat-house; but in a short time my shots evidently told, as his
struggles ceased and all was still. I called out that he was dead, and
at once everyone in the boma turned out, bringing all the lanterns in
the place. With the others came my Indian overseer, who shouted that he
too wanted revenge, as some of the goats had belonged to him. Whereupon
he levelled his revolver at the dead leopard, and shutting his eyes
tightly, fired four shots in rapid succession. Naturally not one of
these touched the beast, but they caused considerable consternation
amongst the onlookers, who scattered rapidly to right and left. Next
morning a party of starving Wa Kamba happened to be passing just as I
was about to skin the leopard, and asked by means of signs to be
allowed to do the job for me and then to take the meat. I of course
assented to this proposal, and in a very few minutes the skin had been
neatly taken off, and the famishing natives began a ravenous meal on
the raw flesh.
Wild dogs are also very destructive, and often caused great losses
among our sheep and goats. Many a night have I listened to these
animals hunting and harrying some poor creature of the wilds round my
camp; they never relinquish a chase, and will attack anything, man or
beast, when really driven by hunger. I was at Tsavo Station one
day--unfortunately without my rifle--when one of these dogs came up and
stood within about thirty yards of me. He was a fine-looking beast,
bigger than a collie, with jet-black hair and a white-tipped bushy
tail. I was very sorry that I had not brought my rifle, as I badly
wanted a specimen and never had another chance of obtaining one.
CHAPTER XI
THE SWAHILI AND OTHER NATIVE TRIBES
I have always been very keenly interested in the different native races
of Africa, and consequently availed myself of every opportunity of
studying their manners and customs. I had little scope for this at
Tsavo, however, as the district around us was practically uninhabited.
Still there was of course a good number of Swahili among my workmen,
together with a few Wa Kamba, Wa N'yam Wezi, and others, so I soon
became more or less acquainted with the habits of these tribes. The
Swahili live principally along the coast of British East Africa and at
Zanzibar. They are a mixed race, being the descendants of Arab fathers
and negro mothers. Their name is derived from the Arabic word suahil,
coast; but it has also been said, by some who have found them scarcely
so guileless as might have been expected, to be really a corruption of
the words sawa hili, that is, "those who cheat all alike." However that
may be, the men are as a rule of splendid physique and well qualified
for the calling that the majority of them follow, that of caravan
porters. They are a careless, light-hearted, improvident people, and
are very fond of all the good things of this world, enjoying them
thoroughly whenever they get the chance. Their life is spent in
journeying to and from the interior, carrying heavy loads of provisions
and trade-goods on the one journey, and returning with similar loads of
ivory or other products of the country. They are away for many months
at a time on these expeditions, and consequently--as they cannot spend
money on the march--they have a goodly number of rupees to draw on
their return to Mombasa. These generally disappear with wonderful
rapidity, and when no more fun can be bought, they join another caravan
and begin a new safari to the Great Lakes, or even beyond. Many a time
have I watched them trudging along the old caravan road which crossed
the Tsavo at a ford about half a mile from the railway station: here a
halt was always called, so that they might wash and bathe in the cool
waters of the river.
Nothing ever seems to damp the spirits of the Swahili porter. Be his
life ever so hard, his load ever so heavy, the moment it is off his
back and he has disposed of his posho (food), he straightway forgets
all his troubles, and begins to laugh and sing and joke with his
fellows as if he were the happiest and luckiest mortal alive. Such was
my cook, Mabruki, and his merry laugh was quite infectious. I remember
that one day he was opening a tin of biscuits for me, and not being
able to pull off the under-lid with his fingers, he seized the flap in
his magnificent teeth and tugged at it. I shouted to him to stop,
thinking that he might break a tooth; but he misunderstood my
solicitude and gravely assured me that he would not spoil the tin!
The Swahili men wear a long white cotton garment, like a night-shirt,
called a kanzu; the women--who are too liberally endowed to be entirely
graceful--go about with bare arms and shoulders, and wear a long
brightly-coloured cloth which they wind tightly round their bosoms and
then allow to fall to the feet. All are followers of the Prophet, and
their social customs are consequently much the same as those of any
other Mohammedan race, though with a good admixture of savagedom. They
have a happy knack of giving a nickname to every European with whom
they have to do, such nickname generally making reference to something
peculiar or striking in his habits, temper, or appearance. On the
whole, they are a kindly, generous folk, whom one cannot help liking.
Of the many tribes which are to be seen about the railway on the way up
from the coast, perhaps the most extraordinary-looking are the Wa
Nyika, the people who inhabit the thorny nyika (wilderness) which
borders on the Taru Desert. They are exceedingly ugly and of a low
type. The men wear nothing in the way of dress but a scanty and very
dirty cloth thrown over the shoulders, while the women attire
themselves only in a short kilt which is tied round them very low at
the waist. Both men and women adorn themselves with brass chains round
the neck and coils of copper and iron wire round the arms.
The nearest native inhabitants to Tsavo are the Wa Taita, who dwell in
the mountains near N'dii, some thirty miles away. My work often took me
to this place, and on one of my visits, finding myself with some spare
time on my hands, I set out to pay a long promised visit to the
District Officer. A fairly good road ran from N'dii Station to his
house at the foot of the mountains, about four miles away, and on my
arrival I was not only most hospitably entertained but was also
introduced to M'gogo, the Head Chief of the Wa Taita, who had just come
in for a shauri (consultation) about some affair of State. The old
fellow appeared delighted to meet me, and promptly invited me to his
kraal, some way up the hills. I jumped at the prospect of seeing the Wa
Taita at home, so presently off we started on our heavy climb, my
Indian servant, Bhawal, coming with us. After a couple of hours' steady
scramble up a steep and slippery goatpath, we arrived at M'gogo's
capital, where I was at once introduced to his wives, who were busily
engaged in making pombe (a native fermented drink) in the hollowed-out
stump of a tree. I presented one of them with an orange for her child,
but she did not understand what it was for on tasting it she made a wry
face and would not eat it. Still she did not throw it away, but
carefully put it into a bag with her other treasures--doubtless for
future investigation. As soon as the women saw Bhawal, however, he
became the centre of attraction, and I was eclipsed. He happened to
have on a new puggaree, with lots of gold work on it, and this took
their fancy immensely; they examined every line most carefully and went
into ecstasies over it--just as their European sisters would have done
over the latest Parisian creation.
We made a short halt for rest and refreshment, and then started again
on our journey to the top of the hills. After a stiff climb for another
two hours, part of it through a thick black forest, we emerged on the
summit, where I found I was well rewarded for my trouble by the
magnificent views we obtained on all sides. The great Kilima N'jaro
stood out particularly well, and made a very effective background to
the fine panorama. I was surprised to find a number of well-fed cattle
on the mountain top, but I fancy M'gogo thought I was casting an evil
spell over them when he saw me taking photographs of them as they
grazed peacefully on the sweet grass which covered the plateau.
Like most other natives of Africa, the Wa Taita are exceedingly
superstitious, and this failing is turned to good account by the
all-powerful "witch-doctor" or "medicine-man." It is, for instance, an
extraordinary sight to see the absolute faith with which a Ki Taita
will blow the simba-dawa, or "lion medicine ", to the four points of
the compass before lying down to sleep in the open. This dawa--which
is, of course, obtainable only from the witch-doctor--consists simply
of a little black powder, usually carried in a tiny horn stuck through
a slit in the ear; but the Ki Taita firmly believes that a few grains
of this dust blown round him from the palm of the hand is a complete
safeguard against raging lions seeking whom they may devour; and after
the blowing ceremony he will lie down to sleep in perfect confidence,
even in the midst of a man-eater's district. In the nature of things,
moreover, he never loses this touching faith in the efficacy of the
witch-doctor's charm; for if he is attacked by a lion, the brute sees
to it that he does not live to become an unbeliever, while if he is not
attacked, it is of course quite clear that it is to the dawa that he
owes his immunity.
For the rest, the Wa Taita are essentially a peace-loving and
industrious people; and, indeed, before the arrival of the British in
the country, they hardly ever ventured down from their mountain
fastnesses, owing to their dread of the warlike Masai. Each man has as
many wives as he can afford to pay for in sheep or cattle; he provides
each spouse with a separate establishment, but the family huts are
clustered together, and as a rule all live in perfect harmony. The most
curious custom of the tribe is the filing of the front teeth into sharp
points, which gives the whole face a most peculiar and rather
diabolical expression. As usual, their ideas of costume are rather
primitive; the men sometimes wear a scrap of cloth round the loins,
while the women content themselves with the same or with a short kilt.
Both sexes adorn themselves with a great quantity of copper or iron
wire coiled round their arms and legs, and smear their bodies all over
with grease, the men adding red clay to the mixture. Many of the women
also wear dozens of rows of beads, while their ears are hung with
pieces of chain and other fantastic ornaments. The men always carry
bows and poisoned arrows, as well as a seemie (a short,
roughly-fashioned sword) hung on a leathern thong round the waist. A
three-legged stool is also an important part of their equipment, and is
slung on the shoulder when on the march.
The next people met with on the road to the Great Lakes are the Wa
Kamba, who inhabit the Ukambani province, and may be seen from M'toto
Andei to the Athi River. They are a very large tribe, but have little
cohesion, being split up, into many clans under chiefs who govern in a
patriarchal kind of way. In appearance and dress--or the want of
it--they are very like the Wa Taita, and they have the same custom of
filing the front teeth. As a rule, too, they are a peace-loving people,
though when driven to it by hunger they will commit very cruel and
treacherous acts of wholesale murder. While the railway was being
constructed, a severe famine occurred in their part of the country,
when hundreds of them died of starvation. During this period they
several times swooped down on isolated railway maintenance gangs and
utterly annihilated them, in order to obtain possession of the food
which they knew would be stored in the camps. These attacks were always
made by night. Like most other native races in East Africa, their only
arms are the bow and poisoned arrow, but in the use of these primitive
weapons they are specially expert. The arrow-head remains in the flesh
when the shaft is withdrawn, and if the poison is fresh, paralysis and
death very quickly follow, the skin round the wound turning yellow and
mortifying within an hour or two. This deadly poison is obtained, I
believe, by boiling down a particular root, the arrow-heads being
dipped in the black, pitchy-looking essence which remains. I am glad to
say, however, that owing to the establishment of several Mission
Stations amongst them, the Wa Kamba are quickly becoming the most
civilised natives in the country; and the missionaries have adopted the
sensible course of teaching the people husbandry and the practical arts
and crafts of everyday life, in addition to caring for their spiritual
needs.
CHAPTER XII
A NIGHT AFTER HIPPO
During my stay at Tsavo I made many little excursions into the
surrounding country, and used to go off on a short shooting and
exploring expedition whenever I had the opportunity. I was especially
anxious to bag a hippopotamus, so I made up my mind to try my luck on
the banks of the Sabaki. Unfortunately, I possessed no heavy rifle,
which is almost a necessity for hippo shooting, but it occurred to me
to supply the deficiency by manufacturing a few cartridges for my
smoothbore. In these I had double charges of powder and a hardened
bullet made of lead mixed with about an eighth part of tin. I well
remember the anxiety with which I fired the first round of my home-made
ammunition. As I more than half expected that the barrel would burst, I
lashed the gun in the fork of a tree, tied a piece of string a hundred
feet long to the trigger, and then--taking shelter behind a friendly
stump--pulled off. To my great satisfaction the barrel stood the test
perfectly. More than that, on trying the penetrative effect of my
bullets, I found that they would smash through a steel plate an eighth
of an inch thick at thirty yards' range. This was quite good enough for
my purpose, and gave me great confidence in the weapon. All the same, I
had a very narrow escape one day while manufacturing some of this
ammunition. My plan was to remove the shot from the cartridge, put in
the additional powder, and ram this well in before replacing the wad
and putting in the bullet. I had clamped my refilling machine to my
rough-hewn table, and was stamping the double charge of powder well
down into the cartridge, when suddenly, for some unknown reason, the
whole charge exploded right into my face. Everything became pitch dark
to me, and I groped my way about the little hut in agony of mind as
well as of body, for I thought I had been blinded. I am thankful to
say, however, that gleams of light soon began to return to my eyes, and
in a few hours' time I was almost all right again and able to go on
with my cartridge making.
All my preparations having been made, I set out for the Sabaki, taking
with me my Indian gun-bearer Mahina, my cook Mabruki, a bhisti
(water-carrier), and a couple of natives to carry our odds and ends. On
these occasions I usually took no tent, but bivouacked in the open. We
took some bread and a few tinned provisions with us, but I could always
depend upon getting a paa, guinea-fowl, partridge or rock-rabbit for
the larder on the march. These rock-rabbits are more like big rats than
rabbits, and are found in great numbers among the rocks along the banks
of the rivers. They are not at all bad eating, but the Swahili will not
touch them. They call them tupu (shameless, naked things), owing to
their lack of a tail, of which indeed they possess not even a vestige.
Our route lay by the always interesting Tsavo River. Along the banks
everything within reach of its moisture is delightfully fresh and
green. Palms and other trees, festooned with brilliant flowering
creepers, flourish along its course; all kinds of monkeys chatter and
jabber in the shade overhead as they swing themselves from branch to
branch, while birds of the most gorgeous plumage flutter about, giving
a very tropical aspect to the scene. On the other hand, if one is
tempted to stray away from the river, be it only for a few yards, one
comes immediately into the parched, thorny wilderness of stunted,
leafless trees. Here the sun beats down pitilessly, and makes the nyika
of the Tsavo valley almost intolerable. The river has its source at the
foot of snow-crowned Kilima N'jaro, whence it flows for about eighty
miles in a northerly direction until it joins the Athi River, about
seven miles below Tsavo Station. From this point the united streams
take the name of Sabaki and flow more or less eastwards until they
reach the Indian Ocean at Malindi, some seventy miles north of Mombasa.
A narrow and tortuous Masai warpath winds along its whole length, but
although we followed this trail our journey was nevertheless a very
slow one, owing to the overhanging branches and creepers, from which we
had constantly to be disengaged. The march was full of interest,
however, for it was not long before we came upon fresh tracks both of
hippo and rhino. Every now and again, also, we caught glimpses of
startled bush-buck and water-buck, while occasionally the sound of a
splash in the water told of a wary crocodile. We had gone about half
the distance to the Sabaki when we came upon an unexpected obstacle in
the shape of a great ridge of barren, rugged rock, about a hundred feet
high, which extended for about a mile or so on both banks of the river.
The sides of this gorge went sheer down into the water, and were quite
impossible to scale. I therefore determined to make a detour round it,
but Mahina was confident that he could walk along in the river itself.
I hinted mildly at the possibility of there being crocodiles under the
rocky ledges. Mahina declared, however, that there was no danger, and
making a bundle of his lower garments, he tied it to his back and
stepped into the water. For a few minutes all went well. Then, in an
instant, he was lifted right off his feet by the rush of the water and
whirled away. The river took a sharp bend in this gorge, and he was
round it and out of our sight in no time, the last glimpse we caught of
him showing him vainly trying to catch hold of an overhanging branch.
Although we at once made all the haste we could to get round the ridge
of rocks, it took us nearly half an hour to do it. I had almost given
up hope of ever seeing Mahina again, and was much relieved, therefore,
when we reached the river-side once more, to find him safe and sound,
and little the worse for his adventure. Luckily he had been dashed up
against a rushy bank, and had managed to scramble out with no more
serious damage than a bruised shin.
Eventually we arrived at the junction of the rivers and proceeded some
way down the Sabaki, beside which the Tsavo looks very insignificant.
Several islands are dotted about in mid-stream and are overgrown with
tall reeds and rushes, in which hippo find capital covert all the year
round. As with the Tsavo, the banks of the Sabaki are lined with trees
of various kinds, affording most welcome shade from the heat of the
sun: and skirting the river is a caravan road from the interior--still
used, I believe, for smuggling slaves and ivory to the coast, where
dhows are in readiness to convey them to Persia or Arabia.
After an early dinner, which Mabruki soon got ready, I left my
followers encamped in a safe boma a mile away from the river, and
started out with Mahina to find a suitable tree, near a hippo "run", in
which to spend the night. Having some difficulty in finding a likely
spot, we crossed to the other side of the river--rather a risky thing
to do on account of the number of crocodiles in it: we found a fairly
shallow ford, however, and managed to get safely over. Here, on what
was evidently an island during flood time, we found innumerable traces
of both hippo and rhino--in fact the difficulty was to decide which
track was the best and freshest. At length I picked out a tree close to
the river and commanding a stretch of sand which was all flattened down
and looked as if at least one hippo rolled there regularly every night.
As there was still about an hour before sundown, we did not take up our
station at once, but proceeded along the bank to see if any other game
was about. We had not gone very far when Mahina, who was a little way
ahead, signalled to me, and on joining him I saw a splendid-looking
water-buck standing in a shallow pool of the river. It was the first
time I had seen one of these fine antelope, and I was delighted with
the sight. I might have got twenty yards or so nearer, but I thought I
had better not risk moving, so I aimed at the shoulder and fired. The
buck gave one leap into the air, and then turned and galloped quickly
behind an island which completely hid him from view. We waited for him
to clear the rushes at the other end of this island, but as he did not
appear I got impatient and plunged into the river, regardless of
crocodiles or anything else. On rounding the island, however, he was
nowhere to be seen, and had evidently turned off while in the shelter
of the reeds and so gained the opposite bank. I was keenly disappointed
at my failure, for it was impossible to follow him up: to do so we
should have had to make a long detour to get across the river, and by
that time darkness would have set in. This incident shows the great
drawback to the .303--namely, that it has very little knock-down effect
unless it strikes a vital part; and even then, in a bush country, an
animal may manage to go far enough to be lost. On the other hand, an
animal wounded with a hard bullet is likely to make a speedy recovery,
which is a great blessing.
Mahina was even more upset at the escape of the buck than I was, and as
we trudged back through the sand to our tree, he was full of gloomy
forebodings of an unlucky night. By the light of a splendid full moon
we settled ourselves on a great outspreading branch, and commenced our
vigil. Soon the jungle around us began to be alive with its peculiar
sounds--a night bird would call, a crocodile shut his jaws with a snap,
or a rhino or hippo crash through the bushes on its way to the water:
now and again we could even hear the distant roar of the lion. Still
there was nothing to be seen.
After waiting for some considerable time, a great hippo at last made
his appearance and came splashing along in our direction, but
unfortunately took up his position behind a tree which, in the most
tantalising way, completely hid him from view. Here he stood tooting
and snorting and splashing about to his heart's content. For what
seemed hours I watched for this ungainly creature to emerge from his
covert, but as he seemed determined not to show himself I lost patience
and made up my mind to go down after him. I therefore handed my rifle
to Mahina to lower to me on reaching the ground, and began to descend
carefully, holding on by the creepers which encircled the tree. To my
intense vexation and disappointment, just as I was in this helpless
condition, half-way to the ground, the great hippo suddenly came out
from his shelter and calmly lumbered along right underneath me. I
bitterly lamented my ill-luck and want of patience, for I could almost
have touched his broad back as he passed. It was under these
exasperating conditions that I saw a hippo for the first time, and
without doubt he is the ugliest and most forbidding looking brute I
have ever beheld.
The moment the great beast had passed our tree, he scented us, snorted
loudly, and dived into the bushes close by, smashing through them like
a traction engine. In screwing myself round to watch him go, I broke
the creepers by which I was holding on and landed on my back in the
sand at the foot of the tree--none the worse for my short drop, but
considerably startled at the thought that the hippo might come back at
any moment. I climbed up to my perch again without loss of time, but he
was evidently as much frightened as I was, and returned no more.
Shortly after this we saw two rhino come down to the river to drink;
they were too far off for a shot, however, so I did not disturb them,
and they gradually waddled up-stream out of sight. Then we heard the
awe-inspiring roar of a hungry lion close by, and presently another
hippo gave forth his tooting challenge a little way down the river. As
there seemed no likelihood of getting a shot at him from our tree, I
made up my mind to stalk him on foot, so we both descended from our
perch and made our way slowly through the trees in the semi-darkness.
There were numbers of animals about, and I am sure that neither of us
felt very comfortable as we crept along in the direction of the
splashing hippo; for my own part I fancied every moment that I saw in
front of me the form of a rhino or a lion ready to charge down upon us
out of the shadow of the bush.
In this manner, with nerves strung to the highest pitch, we reached the
edge of the river in safety, only to find that we were again baulked by
a small rush-covered island, on the other side of which our quarry
could be heard. There was a good breeze blowing directly from him,
however, so I thought the best thing to do was to attempt to get on to
the island and to have a shot at him from there. Mahina, too, was eager
for the fray, so we let ourselves quietly into the water, which here
was quite shallow and reached only to our knees, and waded slowly
across. On peering cautiously through the reeds at the corner of the
island, I was surprised to find that I could see nothing of the hippo;
but I soon realised that I was looking too far ahead, for on lowering
my eyes there he was, not twenty-five yards away, lying down in the
shallow water, only half covered and practically facing us. His
closeness to us made me rather anxious for our safety, more especially
as just then he rose to his feet and gave forth the peculiar challenge
or call which we had already heard so often during the night. All the
same, as he raised his head, I fired at it. He whirled round, made a
plunge forward, staggered and fell, and then lay quite still. To make
assurance doubly sure, I gave him a couple more bullets as he lay, but
we found afterwards that they were not needed, as my first shot had
been a very lucky one and had penetrated the brain. We left him where
he fell and got back to our perch, glad and relieved to be in safety
once more.
As soon as it was daylight we were joined by my own men and by several
Wa Kamba, who had been hunting in the neighbourhood. The natives cut
out the tusks of the hippo, which were rather good ones, and feasted
ravenously on the flesh, while I turned my attention with gratitude to
the hot coffee and cakes which Mabruki had meanwhile prepared.
CHAPTER XIII
A DAY ON THE N'DUNGU ESCARPMENT
Immediately after breakfast camp was struck, and accompanied by a few
of the Wa Kamba, we started off for the N'dungu Escarpment--a frowning
ridge which runs for a great distance parallel to the Sabaki, some
three or four miles from its northern bank. We had not gone very far
before I caught sight of a fine waterbuck and successfully bowled him
over--a good omen for the day, which put us all in excellent spirits.
Mabruki cut off several strips of the tough meat and impaled them on a
sharp stick to dry in the sun as he went along. I warned him that he
had better be careful that a lion did not scent the meat, as if it did
it would be sure to follow up and kill him. Of course I did not mean
this seriously; but Mabruki was a great glutton, and by no means
courageous, so I wanted to frighten him.
As we trudged along towards the hill, I heard a peculiar noise behind a
small rising on our right, and on looking over the crest, I was
delighted to see two beautiful giraffe feeding peacefully a little
distance away and straining their long necks to get at the tops of some
mimosa-like trees, while a young one was lying down in the grass quite
close to me. For some time I remained concealed, watching the
full-grown pair with great interest: they had evidently just come up
from the river, and were slowly making their way back to their home on
the escarpment. They seemed on the most affectionate terms,
occasionally entwining their great long necks and gently biting each
other on the shoulders. Much as I should have liked to have added a
giraffe to my collection of trophies, I left them undisturbed, as I
think it a pity to shoot these rather rare and very harmless creatures,
unless one is required for a special purpose.
We pushed on, accordingly, towards the escarpment, for I was very
impatient to get to the top and explore a place where I felt convinced
no other white man had ever set foot. From the river the ground rose
gently upwards to the foot of the ridge, and was covered more or less
densely with stunted trees and bushes, and of course the inevitable
"wait-a-bit" thorns. I was fortunate enough, however, to find a rhino
path which afforded a fairly comfortable and open road, on which we
could walk upright the greater part of the way. The climb up the
escarpment itself was a stiff one, and had to be negotiated principally
on all-fours, but on the way up I discovered that there was an enormous
cleft some miles to the right which would probably have afforded an
easier ascent. I had not time to explore it on this particular day, but
I made a mental note to do so on some future occasion.
After a two hours' journey from the river we sat panting on the summit
after our scramble and surveyed the valley of the Tsavo, which lay
spread out like a map about five hundred feet below us. Our home tents,
the bridge, Tsavo Station and other buildings were plainly visible, and
the railway itself, like a shining snake, could be seen for many miles
winding its way through the parched wilderness. Having taken a few
photographs of the scene, we turned and struck through the N'dungu
Plateau. Here I found the same kind of nyika as that round Tsavo, the
only difference being that there were more green trees about. The
country, moreover, was somewhat more open, and was intersected by
hundreds of broad and well-beaten animal paths, along which we could
walk upright in comfort. I was leading the way, followed closely by
Mahina and Mabruki, when suddenly we almost walked upon a lion which
was lying down at the side of the path and which had probably been
asleep. It gave a fierce growl and at once bounded off through the
bush; but to Mabruki--who doubtless recalled then the warning I had
given him in fun earlier in the day--the incident appeared so alarming
that he flung down his stick-load of meat and fled for his life, much
to the amusement of the others, even the usually silent Wa Kamba
joining in the general laughter as they scrambled for the discarded
meat. We saw nothing more of the lion, though a few steps further on
brought us to the remains of a zebra which he had recently killed and
feasted on; but after this Mabruki kept carefully in the rear.
Curiously enough, only a short while later we had an exactly similar
adventure with a rhino, as owing to the tortuous nature of the path, we
walked right into it before we were aware. Like the lion, however, it
was more frightened than we, and charged away from us through the
jungle.
For about two hours we pursued our journey into the plateau, and saw
and heard a wonderful variety of game, including giraffe, rhino,
bush-buck, the lesser kudu, zebra, wart-hog, baboons and monkeys, and
any number of paa, the last being of a redder colour than those of the
Tsavo valley. Of natives or of human habitations, however, we saw no
signs, and indeed the whole region was so dry and waterless as to be
quite uninhabitable. The animals that require water have to make a
nightly journey to and from the Sabaki, which accounts for the
thousands of animal paths leading from the plateau to the river.
By this time we were all beginning to feel very tired, and the bhisti's
stock of water was running low. I therefore climbed the highest tree I
could find in order to have a good look round, but absolutely nothing
could I see in any direction but the same flat thorny wilderness,
interspersed here and there with a few green trees; not a landmark of
any sort or kind as far as the eye could reach; a most hopeless,
terrible place should one be lost in it, with certain death either by
thirst or by savage beasts staring one in the face. Clearly, then, the
only thing to do was to return to the river; and in order to accomplish
this before dark it was necessary that no time should be lost. But we
had been winding in and out so much through the animal paths that it
was no easy matter to say in which direction the Sabaki lay. First I
consulted my Wa Kamba followers as to the route back, they simply shook
their heads. Then I asked Mahina, who pointed out a direction exactly
opposite to that which I felt confident was the right one. Mabruki, of
course, knew nothing, but volunteered the helpful and cheering
information that we were lost and would all be killed by lions. In
these circumstances, I confirmed my own idea as to our way by comparing
my watch and the sun, and gave the order to start at once. For two
solid hours, however, we trudged along in the fearful heat without
striking a single familiar object or landmark. Mabruki murmured loudly;
even Mahina expressed grave doubts as to whether the "Sahib" had taken
the right direction; only the Wa Kamba stalked along in reassuring
silence. For some time we had been following a broad white rhino path,
and the great footmarks, of one of these beasts were fresh and plainly
visible in the dust. He had been travelling in the opposite direction
to us, and I felt sure that he must have been returning from drinking
in the river. I accordingly insisted on our keeping to this path, and
very soon, to my great relief, we found that we were at the edge of the
escarpment, a couple of miles away from the place where we had made the
ascent. Here a halt was called; a sheet was spread over some of the
stunted trees, and under its shade we rested for half an hour, had some
food, and drank the last of our water. After this we pushed on with
renewed vigour, and arrived at the Sabaki in good time before sundown,
having bagged a couple of guinea-fowl and a paa on the way to serve for
dinner. After the long and fatiguing day my bathe in a clear shady pool
was a real delight, but I might not have enjoyed it quite so much if I
had known then of the terrible fate which awaited one of my followers
in the same river the next day. By the time I got back to camp supper
was ready and fully appreciated. The tireless Mahina had also collected
some dry grass for my bed, and I turned in at once, with my rifle
handy, and slept the sleep of the just, regardless of all the wild
beasts in Africa.
At dawn Mabruki roused me with a cup of steaming hot coffee and some
biscuits, and a start was at once made on our return journey to Tsavo.
The place where we had struck the Sabaki the previous evening was some
miles further down the stream than I had ever been before, so I decided
to take advantage of the Masai trail along its bank until the Tsavo
River was reached. I did not think we should meet with any further
adventure on our way home, but in the wilds the unexpected is always
happening. Shortly after we started one of the Wa Kamba went down to
the river's edge to fill his calabash with water, when a crocodile
suddenly rose up out of the stream, seized the poor fellow and in a
moment had dragged him in. I was on ahead at the time and so did not
witness the occurrence, but on hearing the cries of the others I ran
back as quickly as possible--too late, however, to see any sign of
either crocodile or native. Mahina philosophically remarked that after
all it was only a washenzi (savage), whose loss did not much matter;
and the other three Wa Kamba certainly did not appear to be affected by
the incident, but calmly possessed themselves of their dead companion's
bow and quiver of poisoned arrows, and of the stock of meat which he
had left on the bank.
I have since learned that accidents of this kind are of fairly frequent
occurrence along the banks of these rivers. On one occasion while I was
in the country a British officer had a very lucky escape. He was
filling his water bottle at the river, when one of these brutes caught
him by the hand and attempted to draw him in. Fortunately one of his
servants rushed to his assistance and managed to pull him out of the
crocodile's clutches with the loss only of two of his fingers.
As we made our way up the Sabaki, we discovered a beautiful waterfall
about a hundred and fifty feet high--not a sheer drop, but a series of
cascades. At this time the river was in low water, and the falls
consequently did not look their best; but in flood time they form a
fine sight, and the thunder of the falling water can then be plainly
heard at Tsavo, over seven miles away, when the wind is in the right
direction. We crossed the river on the rocks at the head of these
falls, and after some hours' hard marching reached camp without further
incident.
CHAPTER XIV
THE FINDING OF THE MAN-EATERS' DEN
There were some rocky-looking hills lying to the south-west of Tsavo
which I was particularly anxious to explore, so on one occasion when
work had been stopped for the day owing to lack of material, I set off
for them, accompanied by Mahina and a Punjaubi coolie, who was so stout
that he went by the name of Moota (i.e. "Fattie"). In the course of my
little excursions round Tsavo I gradually discovered that I was nearly
always able to make my way to any required point of the compass by
following certain well-defined animal paths, which I mapped out bit by
bit during my explorations. On this occasion, for instance, as soon as
we had crossed the river and had struck into the jungle, we were
fortunate enough to find a rhino path leading in the right direction,
which greatly facilitated our progress. As we were making our way along
this path through the dry bed of a nullah, I happened to notice that
the sandy bottom sparkled here and there where the sunbeams penetrated
the dense foliage. This at once filled my head with thoughts of
precious stones, and as the spot looked likely enough, I started to dig
vigorously at the gravel with my hunting knife. After a few minutes of
this work, I came across what I at first took to be a magnificent
diamond sparkling in the damp sand: it was about half an inch long, and
its facets looked as if they had been cut by an Amsterdam expert. I
tested the stone on my watch glass and found that it cut my initials
quite easily, and though I knew that quartz would do this as well, it
did not seem to me to have either the general appearance or angles of
any quartz I had ever seen. For a moment or two I was greatly delighted
with my discovery, and began to have rosy dreams of a diamond mine; but
I am sorry to say that on closer examination and testing I was forced
to the conclusion that my find was not a diamond, though unlike any
other mineral I had ever come across.
My hopes of rapidly becoming a millionaire having thus been dashed to
the ground, we proceeded on our way, getting further and further into
the depths of a gloomy forest. A little distance on, I noticed through
a break in the trees a huge rhino standing in full view near the edge
of a ravine. Unfortunately he caught sight of us as well, and before I
could take aim, he snorted loudly and crashed off through the tangled
undergrowth. As I followed up this ravine, walking stealthily along in
the delightful shade of the overhanging palms, I observed on my left a
little nullah which opened out of the main channel through a confused
mass of jungle and creeper. Through this tangle there was a
well-defined archway, doubtless made by the regular passage of rhino
and hippo, so I decided to enter and explore what lay beyond. I had not
gone very far when I came upon a big bay scooped out of the bank by the
stream when in flood and carpeted with a deposit of fine, soft sand, in
which were the indistinct tracks of numberless animals. In one corner
of this bay, close under an overhanging tree, stood a little sandy
hillock, and on looking over the top of this I saw on the other side a
fearsome-looking cave which seemed to run back for a considerable
distance under the rocky bank. Round the entrance and inside the cavern
I was thunderstruck to find a number of human bones, with here and
there a copper bangle such as the natives wear. Beyond all doubt, the
man-eaters' den! In this manner, and quite by accident, I stumbled upon
the lair of these once-dreaded "demons", which I had spent so many days
searching for through the exasperating and interminable jungle during
the time when they terrorised Tsavo. I had no inclination to explore
the gloomy depths of the interior, but thinking that there might
possibly still be a lioness or cub inside, I fired a shot or two into
the cavern through a hole in the roof. Save for a swarm of bats,
nothing came out; and after taking a photograph of the cave, I gladly
left the horrible spot, thankful that the savage and insatiable brutes
which once inhabited it were no longer at large.
Retracing my steps to the main ravine, I continued my journey along it.
After a little while I fancied I saw a hippo among some tall rushes
growing on the bank, and quickly signed to Mahina and Moota to stay
perfectly still. I then made a careful stalk, only to discover, after
all my trouble, that my eyes had deceived me and made me imagine a
black bank and a few rushes to be a living animal. We now left the bed
of the ravine, and advanced along the top. This turned out to be a good
move, for soon we heard the galloping of a herd of some animal or other
across our front. I rushed round a corner in the path a few yards
ahead, and crouching under the bushes saw a line of startled zebras
flying past. This was the first time I had seen these beautifully
marked animals in their wild state, so I selected the largest and
fired, and as I was quite close to them he dropped in his tracks
stone-dead. When I stood over the handsome creature I was positively
sorry for having killed him. Not so Moota, however, who rushed up in
ecstasy, and before I could stop him had cut his throat. This was done,
as he remarked, "to make the meat lawful," for Moota was a devout
follower of the Prophet, and no true Mohammedan will eat the flesh of
any animal unless the throat has been cut at the proper place and the
blood allowed to flow. This custom has often caused me great annoyance,
for Mohammedan followers rush in so quickly when an animal is shot and
cut the head off so short that it is afterwards quite useless as a
trophy.
By the time the zebra was skinned, darkness was fast approaching, so we
selected a suitable tree in which to pass the night. Under it we built
a goodly fire, made some tea, and roasted a couple of quails which I
had shot early in the day and which proved simply delicious. We then
betook ourselves to the branches--at least, Mahina and I did; Moota was
afraid of nothing, and said he would sleep on the ground. He was not so
full of courage later on, however, for about midnight a great rhino
passed our way, winded us and snorted so loudly that Moota scrambled in
abject terror up our tree. He was as nimble as a monkey for all his
stoutness, and never ceased climbing until he was far above us. We both
laughed heartily at his extraordinary haste to get out of danger, and
Mahina chaffed him unmercifully.
The rest of the night passed without incident, and in the early
morning, while the boys were preparing breakfast, I strolled off
towards the rocky hills which I had seen from Tsavo, and which were now
only about half a mile distant. I kept a sharp look-out for game, but
came across nothing save here and there a paa and a few guinea-fowl,
until, just as I was about half-way round the hill, I saw a fine
leopard lying on a rocky ledge basking in the morning sun. But he was
too quick for me, and made off before I could get a shot; I had not
approached noiselessly enough, and a leopard is too wary a beast to be
caught napping. Unfortunately I had no more time at my disposal in
which to explore these hills, as I was anxious to resume work at Tsavo
as soon as possible; so after breakfast we packed up the zebra skin and
began to retrace our steps through the jungle. It was an intensely hot
day, and we were all very glad when at length we reached the home camp.
Most of my little trips of this sort, however, were made in a northerly
direction, towards the ever-interesting Athi or Sabaki rivers. After a
long and tiring walk through the jungle what a pleasure it was to lie
up in the friendly shelter of the rushes which line the banks, and
watch the animals come down to drink, all unconscious of my presence. I
took several photographs of scenes of this kind, but unfortunately many
of the negatives were spoiled. Often, too, on a brilliant moonlight
night have I sat on a rock out in the middle of the stream, near a
favourite drinking place, waiting for a shot at whatever fortune might
send my way. How exasperating it was, when the wind changed at the
critical moment, and gave me away to the rhino or other animal I had
sat there for hours patiently awaiting! Occasionally I would get
heartily tired of my weary vigil and would wade ashore through the warm
water, to make my bed in the soft sand regardless of the snap, snap of
the crocodiles which could plainly be heard from the deeper pools up
and down the river. At the time, being new to the country, I did not
realise the risks I ran; but later on--after my poor Wa Kamba follower
had been seized and dragged under, as I have already described--I
learned to be much more cautious.
The shortest way of reaching the Athi river from Tsavo was to strike
through the jungle in a north-westerly direction, and here there was
luckily a particularly well-defined rhino path which I always made use
of. I discovered it quite by accident on one occasion when I had asked
some guests, who were staying with me at Tsavo, to spend a night on the
banks of the river. As we were making our way slowly and painfully
through the dense jungle, I came across this well-trodden path, which
appeared to lead in the direction in which I wished to go, and as I
felt convinced that at any rate it would bring us to the river
somewhere, I followed it with confidence. Our progress was now easy,
and the track led through fairly open glades where traces of bush-buck
and water-buck were numerous; indeed once or twice we caught glimpses
of these animals as they bounded away to the shelter of the thicket,
warned by the sound of our approach. In the end, as I anticipated, the
old rhino path proved a true guide, for it struck the Athi at an ideal
spot for a camping ground, where some lofty trees close to the bank of
the river gave a most grateful and refreshing shade. We had a
delightful picnic, and my guests greatly enjoyed their night in the
open, although one of them got rather a bad fright from a rhino which
suddenly snorted close to our camp, evidently very annoyed at our
intrusion on his domain.
In the morning they went off as soon as it was light to try their luck
along the river, while I remained in camp to see to breakfast. After an
hour or more, however, they all returned, empty-handed but very hungry;
so when they had settled down to rest after a hearty meal, I thought I
would sally forth and see if I could not meet with better success. I
had gone only a short distance up the right bank of the river, when I
thought I observed a movement among the bushes ahead of me. On the
alert, I stopped instantly, and the next moment was rewarded by seeing
a splendid bush-buck advance from the water in a most stately manner. I
could only make out his head and neck above the undergrowth, but as he
was only some fifty yards off, I raised my rifle to my shoulder to
fire. This movement at once caught his eye, and for the fraction of a
second he stopped to gaze at me, thus giving me time to aim at where I
supposed his shoulder to be. When I fired, he disappeared so suddenly
and so completely that I felt sure that I had missed him, and that he
had made off through the bush. I therefore re-loaded, and advanced
carefully with the intention of following up his trail; but to my
unbounded delight I came upon the buck stretched out dead in his
tracks, with my bullet through his heart. I lost no time in getting
back to camp, the antelope swinging by his feet from a branch borne by
two sturdy coolies: and my unlucky friends were very much astonished
when they saw the fine bag I had secured in so short a time. The animal
was soon skinned and furnished us with a delicious roast for lunch; and
in the cool of the evening we made our way back to Tsavo without
further adventure.
Some little time after this, while one of these same friends (Mr. C.
Rawson) happened to be again at Tsavo, we were sitting after dark under
the verandah of my hut. I wanted something from my tent, and sent
Meeanh, my Indian chaukidar, to fetch it. He was going off in the dark
to do so, when I called him back and told him to take a lantern for
fear of snakes. This he did, and as soon as he got to the door of the
tent, which was only a dozen yards off, he called out frantically,
"Are, Sahib, burra sanp hai!" ("Oh, Master, there is a big snake here!)
"Where?" I shouted.
"Here by the bed," he cried, "Bring the gun, quickly."
I seized the shot-gun, which I always kept handy, and rushed to the
tent, where, by the light of the lantern, I saw a great red snake,
about seven feet long, gazing at me from the side of my camp-bed. I
instantly fired at him, cutting him clean in half with the shot; the
tail part remained where it was, but the head half quickly wriggled off
and disappeared in the gloom of the tent. The trail of blood, however,
enabled us to track it, and we eventually found the snake, still full
of fight, under the edge of the ground-sheet. He made a last vicious
dart at one of the men who had run up, but was quickly given the happy
despatch by a blow on the head. Rawson now picked it up and brought it
to the light. He then put his foot on the back of its head and with a
stick forced open the jaws, when suddenly we saw two perfectly clear
jets of poison spurt out from the fangs. An Indian baboo (clerk), who
happened to be standing near, got the full benefit of this, and the
poor man was so panic-stricken that in a second he had torn off every
atom of his clothing. We were very much amused at this, as of course we
knew that although the poison was exceedingly venomous, it could do no
harm unless it penetrated a cut or open wound in the flesh. I never
found out the name of this snake, which, as I have said, was of a dark
brick-red colour all over; and I only saw one other of the same kind
all the time I was in East Africa. I came upon it suddenly one day when
out shooting. It was evidently much startled, and stood erect, hissing
venomously; but I also was so much taken aback at its appearance that I
did not think about shooting it until it had glided off and disappeared
in the thick undergrowth.
CHAPTER XV
UNSUCCESSFUL RHINO HUNTS
Although the jungle round Tsavo was a network of rhino paths I had
never so far been successful in my efforts to obtain one of these
animals, nor was my ambition yet to be realised. One day I was out
exploring in the dense bush some six or seven miles away from camp, and
found my progress more than usually slow, owing to the fact that I had
to spend most of my time crawling on all-fours through the jungle. I
was very pleased, therefore, to emerge suddenly on a broad and
well-beaten track along which I could walk comfortably in an upright
position. In this were some fresh rhino footprints which seemed barely
an hour old, so I determined to follow them up. The roadway was beaten
in places into a fine white dust by the passage of many heavy animals;
and as I pushed cautiously forward I fully expected to come face to
face with a rhino at every corner I turned. After having gone a little
way I fancied that I really did see one lying at the foot of a tree
some distance ahead of me, but on approaching cautiously found that it
was nothing more than a great brown heap of loose earth which one of
the huge beasts had raised by rolling about on the soft ground. This,
however, was evidently a resting-place which was regularly used, so I
made up my mind to spend a night in the overhanging branches of the
tree.
The next afternoon, accordingly, Mahina and I made our way back to the
place, and by dusk we were safely but uncomfortably perched among the
branches directly over the path. We had scarcely been there an hour
when to our delight we heard a great rhino plodding along the track in
our direction. Unfortunately the moon had not yet risen, so I was
unable to catch sight of the monster as he approached; I knew, however,
that there was light enough for me to see him when he emerged from the
bushes into the little clearing round the foot of our tree. Nearer and
nearer we heard him coming steadily on, and I had my rifle ready,
pointing it in the direction in which I expected his head to appear.
But, alas, just at that moment the wind veered round and blew straight
from us towards the rhino, who scented us immediately, gave a mighty
snort and then dived madly away through the jungle. For some
considerable time we could hear him crashing ponderously through
everything that came in his way, and he must have gone a long distance
before he recovered from his fright and slowed down to his usual pace.
At any rate we neither heard nor saw anything more of him, and spent a
wakeful and uncomfortable night for nothing.
My next attempt to bag a rhino took place some months later, on the
banks of the Sabaki, and was scarcely more successful. I had come down
from Tsavo in the afternoon, accompanied by Mahina, and finding a
likely tree, within a few yards of the river and with fresh footprints
under it, I at once decided to take up my position for the night in its
branches. Mahina preferred to sit where he could take a comfortable
nap, and wedged himself in a fork of the tree some little way below me,
but still some eight or ten feet from the ground. It was a calm and
perfect night, such as can be seen only in the tropics; everything
looked mysteriously beautiful in the glorious moonlight, and stood out
like a picture looked at through a stereoscope. From my perch among the
branches I watched first a water-buck come to drink in the river; then
a bush-buck; later, a tiny paa emerged from the bushes and paused at
every step with one graceful forefoot poised in the air--thoroughly on
the alert and looking round carefully and nervously for any trace of a
possible enemy. At length it reached the brink of the river in safety,
and stooped to drink. Just then I saw a jackal come up on its trail and
begin carefully to stalk it, not even rustling a fallen leaf in its
stealthy advance on the poor little antelope. All of a sudden, however,
the jackal stopped dead for a second, and then made off out of sight as
fast as ever he could go. I looked round to discover the cause of this
hurried exit, and to my surprise saw a large and very beautiful leopard
crouching down and moving noiselessly in the direction of our tree. At
first I thought it must be stalking some animal on the ground below us,
but I soon realised that it was Mahina that the brute was intent on.
Whether, if left to himself, the leopard would actually have made a
spring at my sleeping gun-bearer, I do not know; but I had no intention
of letting him have a chance of even attempting this, so I cautiously
raised my rifle and levelled it at him. Absolutely noiseless as I was
in doing this, he noticed it--possibly a glint of moonlight on the
barrel caught his eye--and immediately disappeared into the bush before
I could get in a shot. I at once woke Mahina and made him come up to
more secure quarters beside me.
For a long time after this nothing disturbed our peace, but at last the
quarry I had hoped for made his appearance on the scene. Just below us
there was an opening in the elephant grass which lined the river's
edge, and through this the broad stream shone like silver in the
moonlight. Without warning this gap was suddenly filled by a huge black
mass--a rhino making his way, very leisurely, out of the shallow water.
On he came with a slow, ponderous tread, combining a certain
stateliness with his awkward strides. Almost directly beneath us he
halted and stood for an instant clearly exposed to our view. This was
my opportunity; I took careful aim at his shoulder and fired.
Instantly, and with extraordinary rapidity, the huge beast whirled
round like a peg-top, whereupon I fired again. This time I expected him
to fall; but instead of that I had the mortification of seeing him rush
off into the jungle and of hearing him crash through it like a great
steam-roller for several minutes. I consoled myself by thinking that he
could not go far, as he was hard hit, and that I should easily find him
when daylight arrived. Mahina, who was in a wild state of excitement
over the burra janwar (great animal), was also of this opinion, and as
there was no longer any reason for silence, he chatted to me about many
strange and curious things until the grey dawn appeared. When we got
down from our perch, we found the track of the wounded rhino clearly
marked by great splashes of blood, and for a couple of miles the spoor
could thus be easily followed. At length, however, it got fainter and
fainter, and finally ceased altogether, so that we had to abandon the
search; the ground round about was rocky, and there was no possibility
of telling which way our quarry had gone. I was exceedingly sorry for
this, as I did not like to leave him wounded; but there was no help for
it, so we struck out for home and arrived at Tsavo in the afternoon
very tired, hungry and disappointed.
Rhinos are extraordinary animals, and not in any way to be depended
upon. One day they will sheer off on meeting a human being and make no
attempt to attack; the next day, for no apparent reason, they may
execute a most determined charge. I was told for a fact by an official
who had been long in the country that on one occasion while a gang of
twenty-one slaves, chained neck to neck as was the custom, was being
smuggled down to the coast and was proceeding in Indian file along a
narrow path, a rhinoceros suddenly charged out at right angles to them,
impaled the centre man on its horns and broke the necks of the
remainder of the party by the suddenness of his rush. These huge beasts
have a very keen sense of smell, but equally indifferent eyesight, and
it is said that if a hunter will only stand perfectly still on meeting
a rhino, it will pass him by without attempting to molest him. I feel
bound to add, however, that I have so far failed to come across anybody
who has actually tried the experiment. On the other hand, I have met
one or two men who have been tossed on the horns of these animals, and
they described it as a very painful proceeding. It generally means
being a cripple for life, if one even succeeds in escaping death. Mr.
B. Eastwood, the chief accountant of the Uganda Railway, once gave me a
graphic description of his marvellous escape from an infuriated rhino.
He was on leave at the time on a hunting expedition in the
neighbourhood of Lake Baringo, about eighty miles north of the railway
from Nakuru, and had shot and apparently killed a rhino. On walking up
to it, however, the brute rose to its feet and literally fell on him,
breaking four ribs and his right arm. Not content with this, it then
stuck its horn through his thigh and tossed him over its back,
repeating this operation once or twice. Finally, it lumbered off,
leaving poor Eastwood helpless and fainting in the long grass where he
had fallen. He was alone at the time, and it was not for some hours
that he was found by his porters, who were only attracted to the spot
by the numbers of vultures hovering about, waiting in their ghoulish
manner for life to be extinct before beginning their meal. How he
managed to live for the eight days after this which elapsed before a
doctor could be got to him I cannot imagine; but in the end he
fortunately made a good recovery, the only sign of his terrible
experience being the absence of his right arm, which had to be
amputated.
CHAPTER XVI
A WIDOW'S STORY
Very shortly before I left Tsavo I went (on March 11, 1899) on
inspection duty to Voi, which, as I have already mentioned, is about
thirty miles on the Mombasa side of Tsavo. At this time it was a
miserable, swampy spot, where fever, guinea-worm, and all kinds of
horrible diseases were rampant; but this state of affairs has now been
completely altered by drainage and by clearing away the jungle. Dr.
Rose was in medical charge of the place at the time of my visit, and as
it was the good old custom to put up with any friend one came across
towards nightfall, I made him my host when my day's work was over. We
spent a very pleasant evening together, and naturally discussed all the
local news. Amongst other things we chatted about the new road which
was being constructed from Voi to a rather important missionary station
called Taveta, near Mount Kilima N'jaro, and Dr. Rose mentioned that
Mr. O'Hara (the engineer in charge of the road-making), with his wife
and children, was encamped in the Wa Taita country, about twelve miles
away from Voi.
Early next morning I went out for a stroll with my shot-gun, but had
not gone far from the doctor's tent when I saw in the distance four
Swahili carrying something which looked like a stretcher along the
newly-made road. Fearing that some accident had happened, I went
quickly to meet them and called out to ask what they were carrying.
They shouted back "Bwana" ("The master"); and when I asked what bwana,
they replied "Bwana O'Hara." On enquiring what exactly had happened,
they told me that during the night their master had been killed by a
lion, and that his wife and children were following behind, along the
road. At this I directed the men to the hospital and told them where to
find Dr. Rose, and without waiting to hear any further particulars
hurried on as fast as possible to give what assistance I could to poor
Mrs. O'Hara. Some considerable way back I met her toiling along with an
infant in her arms, while a little child held on to her skirt, utterly
tired out with the long
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