The Rogue Elephant Part 4

"We'll take about twenty-five porters," answered the explorer carelessly. At this the Englishman sat up.

"My word! Are you spoofin' me or what? Twenty-five porters! Why, Roosevelt had two hundred, to say nothing of askaris, saises, tent boys, and the rest!"

Smiling, Schoverling and von Hofe explained their plan of action.

Harrington's amazement grew into settled doubt that such a march was possible, for although a remarkably fine young officer, he was decidedly conservative.

"We are all used to doing things for ourselves," concluded the explorer.

"The doctor is less used to the trail, but he can wash his own dishes and things right enough, and we'll do the shooting."

"Well, it's your expedition," returned Harrington, "and not mine. But how do you expect to send back the skins with such a small safari?"

"Safari" was the term used for caravan, and was usually applied to the entire expedition, who instead of being on the march, were said to be "on safari."

"There is where I want your help," said Schoverling. "We will camp at the nearest possible point to Mt. Kenia and let the doctor make what sketches he desires. There we will kill the cows and calves and send back their skins. For this purpose we can pick up porters on the spot, but I must have three or four reliable men to bring them back. Also, I want a good cook who can act as a sort of major-domo over the men at each place."

Harrington pulled out his notebook and jotted down the requirements methodically. Then he rose and shook hands all around.

"As a member of the Club," he told the explorer, "you need no cicerone.

You will take the morning train? Well, I will meet you here at eight o'clock with your men. Good-bye!"

For the remainder of the day they rested. Schoverling departed to see that their cases were placed aboard the train safely, while the boys rambled around town with the doctor. The latter had been in Mombasa before, but to-day his head was full of the expedition.

Instead of the great quant.i.ty of salt usually taken along to cure hides, he was using a strong chemical powder of his own invention, which could be dissolved in water, and thus be greatly diffused. His fifteen cases comprised not only a sufficient supply of this, but also the medicines which were likely to be necessary.

It had been found that a certain supply of provisions would have to be taken along, but Schoverling was well satisfied when it was found that evening that twenty-five porters would be sufficient for all. Their tents were small sleeping-tents, and two porters could carry the lot with ease.

That evening they had a long talk with Piet Andrus, a Boer merchant of the city. He very strongly advised them to procure ox-wagons at Nakuro and to proceed north with them.

"I do not know the country up north of the Guasa Nyero," he said, "but I can see no reason why oxen could not be used. It would save porter hire and be more reliable. If you lost them, for any reason, you could always hire porters. I am going up on the same train with you, and if you like, would be glad to pick out seasoned beasts."

After a brief discussion it was decided to take both porters and wagons as far as the first camp, and then send back the porters with the skins taken there.

In the morning Harrington arrived, followed by a group of men. These, it proved, were all Indians who had been in the British army and in Africa for years. They salaamed at the verandah steps.

"First your cook and general manager," smiled the inspector. "Gholab Singh!"

A strapping Gurkha stepped out and saluted. Charlie liked his manner at once.

"Gholab Singh," said Schoverling promptly, "are you willing to serve me faithfully and follow wherever I lead?"

"I am, sahib," returned the other in a quiet, confident voice.

"Then you will cook for us, and will be in charge of the safari under my orders. The pay shall be as the inspector sahib has agreed with you. Is it well?"

"It is well, sahib."

Harrington then brought up the gun-bearers--two Gurkhas and a stalwart Sikh. The last, Guru, the General chose for himself as personal attendant. To Charlie was alloted Amir Ali, and to Jack, Akram Das. All three were faithful and highly recommended by the inspector. The four remaining, one an Arab half-caste, two Somali, and one a Gurkha, were to take charge of the safari under Gholab Singh, and to return with the skins as obtained.

At the railroad station Gholab Singh was given money for the tickets and food en route, and the men vanished into one of the tiny carriages.

Special arrangements had been made in honor of Schoverling and the doctor, however, and as the weather was fine they were to travel on a wide seat fastened across the cow-catcher, which held four with comfort.

The boys took their places with some misgivings, but found the seat comfortable enough.

Inspector Harrington now waved them farewell, with a.s.surances that all had been arranged for their comfort on the trip, which would take two days. Andrus, they knew, was on board, and had that morning wired ahead to his traders to prepare teams and wagons. In fact, the general courtesy with which they met both surprised and delighted the two boys.

"They seem to do things just to please you," exclaimed Jack happily, as he gave a last wave to Harrington and the train started. "Are they as hospitable and obliging as this all the time, General?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Everything else was forgotten in the novel method of riding.]

"Those we meet are, Jack. But you must remember that we are a special party, and that most of these men, who are big men themselves, consider it an honor to a.s.sist the doctor, here. That chap Harrington, for instance, just got in from two years up-country. He had charge of some three hundred square miles of absolutely savage country, and with a dozen Somalis kept order and law enforced. Andrus is another real man, and real men are above smallness."

As the train pulled out everything else was forgotten in the novel method of riding. The boys already knew that on each side of the railroad was a great game reserve, but on the first day's trip they saw nothing save one or two antelope and jackals. Birds were plentiful, however, and the rolling country was constantly presenting a change of scene before them.

The neat railroad stations were always surrounded with curious crowds of natives, some half dressed. As a rule the station agents and officials were Indians in the government service. Both Charlie and Jack kept their pocket cameras busy.

Toward evening they retired into their special carriage and wrote their last letters home, which would be mailed at Nakuro. But with the morning they were in the game country, and took advantage of the first stop to resume their seats in front. Now everything was changed. At one moment they would pa.s.s a group of giraffe, running in their ungainly fashion to one side; hartebeests, impalla and other varieties of antelope were everywhere, gazing in fearless fashion at the train. Herds of zebra came into sight, while through the trees scampered monkeys in endless variety.

"They know they're safe, all right," chuckled Charlie, as a herd of beautiful little gazelles stopped a dozen yards away to stare in mild wonder. "Funny how animals get to know where they're protected."

"It's the same in the Yellowstone," said von Hofe. "Within the limits they are almost tame, but across the line--pouf! and they are gone."

The wonderful journey, like no other in the world, was ended at last, however, and they puffed past Lake Nakuro to the village station. Here their trip was ended, their baggage was rolled off, and they were taken in charge by a young subaltern, Lieutenant Smithers, together with the Boer merchant, Piet Andrus. The latter offered them the hospitality of his trading store, which they gratefully accepted.

"Now to business," said the General that night after dinner.

"Lieutenant, what would be your advice as to porters? I'd like to get off in the morning, if possible."

"The usual way," laughed Smithers, "is to take Swahilis, but you seem to be an unusual party. Since you are going to take wagons from here, I would suggest that you load everything into the wagons and trek north to Jan Botha's ranch. There you can pick up a score or two of Masai. They are an offshoot of the old Zulu stock--brave as lions, faithful enough, and able to provide for themselves. This safari business is largely bally rot, to my mind."

"Bully for you!" cried Charlie in delight, while the others laughed heartily.

"According to law," said Smithers, "you'll have to provide tents for the porters. But the Masai would laugh at such things, and this will save you a good deal of carriage. How about horses?"

"They are in the compound," said Miers, the local agent of Andrus' firm.

"I have two good wagons and a dozen 'salted' oxen, specially selected.

This gives you six to a wagon, and even if you lose four of the beasts, the other eight will do the work. Better to have too many than too few."

Von Hofe nodded, thoroughly satisfied. By 'salted,' the trader meant that the animals had been through the sickness caused by the bite of the tsetse fly, and were henceforth immune to the worst scourge of Africa.

That night there was a gathering of the Boers, English settlers, and officers at the station, all of whom were keenly interested in the novel excursion. It was the general opinion that the expedition would succeed, although the nature of the country beyond the mountains was an open question.

"Well," commented Charlie that night, as he made ready to share his bunk with Jack, "we're off! Looks like we'd have a bully time, eh?"

"It sure does, if we strike a rogue," chuckled Jack. "I'm crazy to get out those guns, Chuck. Funny the doctor doesn't care for shooting."

"He's got some tough work ahead of him, all right. Did you see those paints an' things he brought along? Right on the job! Well, see you in the morning. Good night."

CHAPTER V