Bartier and his people assured me that they were absolutely friendly to me, and that I could rely upon them. It was the Chinga people, with the natives from a part called Mahigga, together with some from a district lying more to the east of us, under the control of my old enemy, the chief rain-maker, who had joined their forces against the Goanese, and I had no doubt that the rain-maker had had as much, and more, to do with the matter than any one else. From what I could make out there must have been some thousands of natives in the business, and they had completely wiped out the traders’ safari and taken everything they possessed—trade goods, some cattle they had with them, and everything that was worth looting.

Whilst Bartier was explaining all this to me, two of the four men who had started out with me ahead of the main body of my followers arrived in the village. I had outdistanced them on my mule, and had been feeling some anxiety for their safety. When I saw that there were only two of them, I immediately inquired what had become of the others. It was evident from the state of excitement they were in that something had happened, and they at once told me that their two companions had been killed. Their story confirmed the suspicion which had been growing in my mind that an ambush had been set for me at the place where my mule had refused to keep on the road, and it was no doubt due to the animal’s instinct that I had not been killed myself, as my men had kept to the road and so fallen into the ambush. They were going along, they said, when a number of men rushed out on them, and before they knew what was really happening two of their number had been killed. The two who had escaped could only tell me that they had been attacked by a number of Kikuyu on the war-path, who, rushing out on them, had speared the others and then cleared off, while they had picked up the rifles of the murdered men and come on to Bartier’s as fast as they could.

A White King in East Africa — Part 109

I saw that things were looking pretty bad, and quickly concluded that the men in ambush were some of the party who had taken part in the murder of the Goanese; but whether they were merely a scouting party, spying out my movements, who had got a bit excited and started too early, or whether they had planned to kill me and throw suspicion on Bartier, I could only guess. Bartier assured me that it had not been done by any of his people, and I was quite prepared to believe him, being fully convinced in my own mind that it was the act of some of the Chinga people.

A White King in East Africa — Part 109