ction in case of trouble, for no one tribe will help
another. They vary both in tribal and individual characteristics, of
course. For example, the Kikuyus are docile but mediocre porters; the
Kavirondos strong carriers but turbulent and difficult to handle. You
are very lucky if you happen on a camp jester, one of the sort that
sings, shouts, or jokes while on the march. He is probably not much as a
porter, but he is worth his wages nevertheless. He may or may not aspire
to his giddy eminence. We had one droll-faced little Kavirondo whose
very expression made one laugh, and whose rueful remarks on the
harshness of his lot finally ended by being funny. His name got to be a
catchword in camp.

"Mualo! Mualo!" the men would cry, as they heaved their burdens to their
heads; and all day long their war cry would ring out, "Mualo!" followed
by shrieks of laughter.

Of the other type was Sulimani, a big, one-eyed Monumwezi, who had a
really keen wit coupled with an earnest, solemn manner. This man was no
buffoon, however; and he was a good porter, always at or near the head
of the procession. In the great jungle south of Kenia we came upon
Cuninghame. When the head of our safari reached the spot Sulimani
left the ranks and, his load still aloft danced solemnly in front of
Cuninghame, chanting something in a loud tone of voice. Then with a
final deep "Jambo!" to his old master he rejoined the safari. When
the day had stretched to weariness and the men had fallen to a sullen
plodding, Sulimani's vigorous song could always set the safari sticks
tapping the sides of the chop boxes.

He carried part of the tent, and the next best men were entrusted with
the cook outfit and our personal effects. It was a point of honour
with these men to be the first in camp. The rear, the very extreme
and straggling rear, was brought up by worthless porters with loads of
cornmeal-and the weary askaris whose duty it was to keep astern and herd
the lot in.

XIV. A DAY ON THE ISIOLA

Early one morning-we were still on the Isiola-we set forth on our horses
to ride across the rolling, brush-grown plain. Our intention was to
proceed at right angles to our own little stream until we had reached
the forest growth of another, which we could dimly make out eight or
ten miles distant. Billy went with us, so there were four a-horseback.
Behind us trudged the gunbearers, and the syces, and after them
straggled a dozen or fifteen porters.

The sun