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.
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