At
First I Had Most Of The Tank-Filling Done By Night,
But On One Occasion A Lion Came Unpleasantly
Close To The Men Working The Pump, And So
Night Work Had To Be Abandoned.
The coolies
themselves were so anxious, indeed, to get a
plentiful supply of water, that once or twice some
Of the more daring spirits among them ventured
to go out on to the plains in search of waterholes,
which, by reason of the large herds of game,
we knew must exist somewhere. The only result
of these expeditions, however, was that three of
these men never returned; what befell them is
not known to this day.
When we had proceeded some distance across
this dry land, and when I was experiencing to
the full the disadvantage and delay caused by
my tank trains, a native from some remote
corner of the plains - with nothing by way of
dress but a small piece of cowhide thrown
over his left shoulder - came to my tent door
one day and squatted down on his heels in the
native fashion. On being asked his business, "I
have heard," he replied, "that the Great Master
wants water; I can show it to him." This was
good news, if it could be relied upon; so I
questioned him closely, and ascertained that some
time previously - exactly how long ago I could
not gather - he had been in the locality on a
raiding expedition and had succeeded in finding
water. I asked if the place was far away, and
got the reply in Swahili "M'bali kidogo" (" A
little distance "). Now, I had had experience of
M'bali kidogo before; it is like the Irishman's
"mile and a bit." So I decided to start very
early next morning on a search for this pond -
for such my informant described it to be.
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