distance. We knew that at some point this side
of the range the Guaso Nyiro flowed. The spot where
we lunched brought to my mind the following lines
from Browning’s poem, Childe Roland:
The hills like giants at a hunting lay,
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay.
From this point our route lay downhill and desert-
wards. We found an excellent and well-beaten trail.
This trail was made by the mountain people, who use
it on their way to a crater distant six miles. It is
called .Ngombe (ox), from a fancied resemblance
between its outline and that animal. In this crater
there is a large deposit of sulphate of magnesium,
which is used by the natives in lieu of salt; and it is
much prized by them as a delicacy. Along the trail
I picked up a native bag made of leather, which
Motio said had been carried, by a friend of his, who
had gone in search of salt two weeks before. On his
return journey he had been attacked by a lion, left by
his friends, and, in consequence, eaten. I was glad
the king of beasts was not a vegetarian, for in the bag
were two yams, which proved a welcome addition to
our beans and meat.
We reached Ngome at five o’clock, and pitched camp
half-way up the side of the crater. Near our camp
I noticed that the side of the mountain was rent apart.
Entering this opening, I pursued my way for some
distance between high and jagged walls, when I found
the gulch narrowed until it resembled the gateway of
some ruined mediaeval castle. Beyond the gateway it
again widened, and my eyes were resting upon a vast
amphitheatre at my feet. It is about 500 feet deep,
and about its top runs a rim of rugged rocks, from
which steep, grass-covered sides descend to the bottom
far below. In the centre of this hollow, cup-like bottom
there was what appeared to be a large rectangular
slab of marble broken at one end. From a distance it
bore a striking resemblance to such a stone as is placed
on the top of a vault, suggesting the idea that it was
the last resting-place of some giant king. This, upon
closer examination, proved to be a deposit of sulphate of
magnesium, and is what the natives prized as salt. Near
this deposit were found pools of water, but their contents
were undrinkable, and so my men went to bed thirsty.
The following day we served out the water we had
carried in the water-bags. It was sufficient to give
each man about one quart; and this, I was careful to
tell them, must suffice until the Guaso Nyiro was
reached. Motio assured us that we should undoubtedly
reach the river before dark, but a careful examination
of the desert before us discovered not the slightest
sign of tree or bush. When these are absent from the
landscape in Africa, one has a right to be sceptical of
the presence of water. The following day was Christmas,
and the only gift we one and all prayed for on
that occasion was the sight of a rushing river.
Upon leaving the crater, although the native path
had come to an end, the ground under foot was not
very bad. The hilly region was now behind us, and
we faced a plain covered with stunted, sun-dried grass.
Here and there were scattered awkward bits of lava,
which tripped unwary feet. We met several herds of
antelope and zebra.