dile, although according to our Somali somewhat similar
to theirs, was in so many ways perfectly distinct
from it, that we concluded the similarities had been
the result more of intercommunication between these
peoples in former years than of derivation of the Ren-
dile tongue from the Somali. They also used many
Galla phrases, and the fact that on several occasions
we had heard the chiefs address their followers as
Oromo, led us to believe that they were in some way
connected with the Galla tribe. But the insistence
with which all the Rendile with whom we talked repudiated
the suggestion, forced us to give up that
theory.
It was easy to explain their familiarity with the
Masai tongue, as that was the language of the Sam-
buru, or Berkenedji, for centuries closely connected with
the Rendile, to whom many of them for years had
been in a state of servitude, while many of their
females had borne children to the Rendile. They
used the word “ Ngai ” to express the idea of the
Deity alone. This is a Masai word, used by the Masai
not only to express the idea of the Deity, but also as
an exclamation of surprise and wonder. A watch, a
successful shot made with a rifle, an ornament of
great beauty, or anything which excited their admiration,
called forth this exclamation. The Rendile had
some idea of a deity, a much clearer one, as far as
we could learn, than that possessed by the Masai, or
any other East African race that had not come into
contact with Christians and Mohammedans.
The weapons of this people, and their implements,
as well as their method of life, were in every, respect
similar to those of nomadic, pastoral people, such as
the Galla and Somali, who inhabit East Africa.
Their government, to a certain extent, was oligarchical.
Each village was presided over by its chief,
whose decisions were not final, and were influenced in
great degree by the other rich and prominent men of
his village. Each village was distinct in policy, and
might act for itself quite independently of any or all
the others— might even separate entirely from the rest
of the tribe, if it so willed. They remained united, not
as the result of mutual affection, but as a measure of
safety. For the immediately preceding twenty or thirty
years (and for how many more we were unable to ascertain)
they had been the victims of raids from the Borana
and Rrapp on the north, the Somali on the east, and
the Turcana and Masai on the south, whenever the
movements of the Rendile presented a fair opportunity;
and the strength of unity, at least, was a binding
tie among them.
The position of the medicine-men, Lesegetetti and
Laogoum, seemed similar to that of the chiefs. These
medicine-men were the means of communication with
the Deity, and it was through them and their arts that
a knowledge of the future came; but the fact that these
medicine-men were known to be not infallible (evidenced
by the defeat the Rendile sustained at the hands of the
Turcana, while acting under advice given by Laogoum)
tempered their power.
The most powerful village of the Rendile was that
presided over by Lokomogul. For the twenty years
past it had not suffered from depredations. This was
supposed to be due to the fact that the medicine-man,