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The Land of Footprints-Part18_Stewart Edward White(1873-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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from a long safari, is to SIT IN A CHAIR and drink tea. For this

they pay exorbitantly at the Somali so-called "hotels." It is a



strange sight. But then, I have seen cowboys off the range or

lumberjacks from the river do equallyextravagant and foolish



things.

On the other hand they carry their loads well, they march



tremendously, they know their camp duties and they do them. Under

adverse circumstances they are good-natured. I remember C. and I,



being belated and lost in a driving rain. We wandered until

nearly midnight. The four or five men with us were loaded heavily



with the meat and trophy of a roan. Certainly they must have been

very tired; for only occasionally could we permit them to lay



down their loads. Most of the time we were actually" target="_blank" title="ad.事实上；实际上">actually groping, over

boulders, volcanic rocks, fallen trees and all sorts of



tribulation. The men took it as a huge joke, and at every pause

laughed consumedly.



In making up a safari one tries to mix in four or five tribes.

This prevents concerted action in case of trouble, for no one



tribe will help another. They vary both in tribal and individual

characteristics, of course. For example, the Kikuyus are docile



but mediocre porters; the Kavirondos strong carriers but

turbulent and difficult to handle. You are very lucky if you



happen on a camp jester, one of the sort that sings, shouts, or

jokes while on the march. He is probably not much as a porter,



but he is worth his wages nevertheless. He may or may not aspire

to his giddy eminence. We had one droll-faced little Kavirondo



whose very expression made one laugh, and whose rueful remarks on

the harshness of his lot finally ended by being funny. His name



got to be a catchword in camp.

"Mualo! Mualo!" the men would cry, as they heaved their burdens



to their heads; and all day long their war cry would ring out,

"Mualo!" followed by shrieks of laughter.



Of the other type was Sulimani, a big, one-eyed Monumwezi, who

had a really keen wit coupled with an earnest, solemn manner.



This man was no buffoon, however; and he was a good porter,

always at or near the head of the procession. In the great jungle



south of Kenia we came upon Cuninghame. When the head of our

safari reached the spot Sulimani left the ranks and, his load



still aloft danced solemnly in front of Cuninghame, chanting

something in a loud tone of voice. Then with a final deep



"Jambo!" to his old master he rejoined the safari. When the day

had stretched to weariness and the men had fallen to a sullen



plodding, Sulimani's vigorous song could always set the safari

sticks tapping the sides of the chop boxes.



He carried part of the tent, and the next best men were entrusted

with the cook outfit and our personal effects. It was a point of



honour with these men to be the first in camp. The rear, the very

extreme and straggling rear, was brought up by worthlessporters



with loads of cornmeal-and the weary askaris whose duty it was

to keep astern and herd the lot in.



XIV. A DAY ON THE ISIOLA

Early one morning-we were still on the Isiola-we set forth on



our horses to ride across the rolling, brush-grown plain. Our

intention was to proceed at right angles to our own little stream



until we had reached the forest growth of another, which we could

dimly make out eight or ten miles distant. Billy went with us, so



there were four a-horseback. Behind us trudged the gunbearers,

and the syces, and after them straggled a dozen or fifteen



porters.

The sun was just up, and the air was only tepid as yet. From



patches of high grass whirred and rocketed grouse of two sorts.

They were so much like our own ruffed grouse and prairie chicken



that I could with no effort imagine myself once more a boy in the

coverts of the Middle West. Only before us we could see the



stripes of trotting zebra disappearing; and catch the glint of

light on the bayonets of the oryx. Two giraffes galumphed away to



the right. Little grass antelope darted from clump to clump of

grass. Once we saw gerenuk-oh, far away in an impossible



distance. Of course we tried to stalk them; and as usual we

failed. The gerenuk we had come to look upon as our Lesser



Hoodoo.

The beast is a gazelle about as big as a black-tailed deer. His



peculiarity is his excessively long neck, a good deal on the




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