337
Wa Kikuyu Warriors 346
Map of British East Africa 347
Facsimile of address presented to the author on his departure
from East Africa in 1899 348-351

THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO

CHAPTER I

MY ARRIVAL AT TSAVO

It was towards noon on March 1, 1898, that I first found myself
entering the narrow and somewhat dangerous harbour of Mombasa, on the
east coast of Africa. The town lies on an island of the same name,
separated from the mainland only by a very narrow channel, which forms
the harbour; and as our vessel steamed slowly in, close under the
quaint old Portuguese fortress built over three hundred years ago, I
was much struck with the strange beauty of the view which gradually
opened out before me. Contrary to my anticipation, everything looked
fresh and green, and an oriental glamour of enchantment seemed to hang
over the island. The old town was bathed in brilliant sunshine and
reflected itself lazily on the motionless sea; its flat roofs and
dazzlingly white walls peeped out dreamily between waving palms and
lofty cocoanuts, huge baobabs and spreading mango trees; and the darker
background of well-wooded hills and slopes on the mainland formed a
very effective setting to a beautiful and, to me, unexpected picture.

The harbour was plentifully sprinkled with Arab dhows, in some of
which, I believe, even at the present day, a few slaves are
occasionally smuggled off to Persia and Arabia. It has always been a
matter of great wonder to me how the navigators of little vessels find
their way from port to port, as they do, without the aid of either
compass or sextant, and how they manage to weather the terrible storms
that at certain seasons of the year suddenly visit eastern seas. I
remember once coming across a dhow becalmed in the middle of the Indian
Ocean, and its crew making signals of distress, our captain slowed down
to investigate. There were four men on board, all nearly dead from
thirst; they had been without drink of any kind for several days and
had completely lost their bearings. After giving them some casks of
water, we directed them to Muscat (the port they wished to make), and
our vessel resumed its journey, leaving them still becalmed in the
midst of that glassy sea. Whether they managed to reach their
destination I n