When however the traveller shows
fright, the feint is apt to turn out a fact. On one occasion a party of
Arab merchants, not understanding the "fun of the thing," shot two Somal:
the tribe had the justice to acquit the strangers, mulcting them, however,
a few yards of cloth for the families of the deceased. In reply I fired a
pistol unexpectedly over the heads of my new hosts, and improved the
occasion of their terror by deprecating any practical facetiousness in
future.
We passed the day under a tree: the camels escorted by my two attendants,
and the women, did not arrive till sunset, having occupied about eight
hours in marching as many miles. Fearing lions, we pitched inside the
kraal, despite crying children, scolding wives, cattle rushing about,
barking dogs, flies and ticks, filth and confinement.
I will now attempt a description of a village in Eastern Africa.
The Rer or Kraal [21] is a line of scattered huts on plains where thorns
are rare, beast of prey scarce, and raids not expected. In the hills it is
surrounded by a strong fence to prevent cattle straying: this, where
danger induces caution, is doubled and trebled. Yet the lion will
sometimes break through it, and the leopard clears it, prey in mouth with
a bound.
