Shortly after leaving Hameye, the topography of
the country underwent a distinct change. From the
coast thus far the road had been almost level; but
from this point onward it was marked with dried
watercourses and ridges covered with broken quartz
and gneiss. Although our feet suffered somewhat
from the change, it was a great relief to encounter
hills, however disagreeable their ascent, after having
marched for weeks over a monotonous plain.
Two days from Hameye we saw our first herd of
game. In a small valley, I saw at one time zebra, oryx
beisa, walleri, and rhinoceros. They got our scent, however,
and made off at top speed; so I did not halt the
caravan to give chase. Some of the hills of this portion
of the country are from 400 to 500 feet high, and it was
impossible to ride, as the acacias became too thick, and
stones in too great plenty. A t this point the Tana
loses its almost majestic appearance, and becomes a
brawling trout stream. It is but 125 yards wide, and
its course is broken with many stone? and rocks.
On the plain, one day, we passed an old native zeriba.
There must at one time have been 400 or 500 people in
it, and that less than a year before the time we saw it.
On the same day, Mohamadi, whom I had taken with
me, as I felt I could not trust him at Hameye, reported
that he saw ten elephants on a hill half a mile away;
but as he neglected to make this report until after we
reached camp, in the evening, I did not go in search of
them.
Every few miles the Tana changed in appearance.
Now the rapids were at an end, and the river flowed
sedately through narrow valleys and rocky hills. The
hills on the right bank were bold and precipitous, of red
sandstone, flecked here and there with green vegetation.
The largest of these hills is called Saleh’s Hill, because
a few years before a Somali of that name was slain
there while raiding the natives. The country is now
deserted, and but for a few unoccupied kraals gives no
evidence of ever having been inhabited.
On December 9, four days from Hameye, upon rising
at camp just at sunrise, we saw from a small hill a long,
blue range of high hills stretching in the far distance
to the north. What could these be ? Perhaps they
were the southern parts of the General Matthews range.
While I was gazing my fill, Karscho, my gun-bearer,
cried out: “ Look, master; down there is a large.mountain.
I think it is the Kenya.” He had seen this
mountain on the former journey with Lieutenant von
Hohnel. I seized my glasses, and unmistakably there
stood forth, free from clouds, the snow-peaked rival of
Kilimanjiro. I looked and looked; but while gazing, as
if jealous of my eye, clouds gathered one by one, and
piled themselves around the crest, until it was hidden
from sight. A t last we were in sight of new country;
and my feelings were almost as joyous as those of
Moses, when he viewed the Promised Land. We knew
our route lay in the direction of that long 1 range of
blue hills stretched far to the north of Kenya; and
beyond those we knew there lay a country as yet
untrodden by any white man. On the following day
we expected to reach the Mackenzie Rive r ; and
the thought that from that point onward our work
would be wholly original filled us with pleasurable
excitement.