literally fell on him,
breaking four ribs and his right arm. Not content with this, it then
stuck its horn through his thigh and tossed him over its back,
repeating this operation once or twice. Finally, it lumbered off,
leaving poor Eastwood helpless and fainting in the long grass where he
had fallen. He was alone at the time, and it was not for some hours
that he was found by his porters, who were only attracted to the spot
by the numbers of vultures hovering about, waiting in their ghoulish
manner for life to be extinct before beginning their meal. How he
managed to live for the eight days after this which elapsed before a
doctor could be got to him I cannot imagine; but in the end he
fortunately made a good recovery, the only sign of his terrible
experience being the absence of his right arm, which had to be
amputated.

CHAPTER XVI

A WIDOW'S STORY

Very shortly before I left Tsavo I went (on March 11, 1899) on
inspection duty to Voi, which, as I have already mentioned, is about
thirty miles on the Mombasa side of Tsavo. At this time it was a
miserable, swampy spot, where fever, guinea-worm, and all kinds of
horrible diseases were rampant; but this state of affairs has now been
completely altered by drainage and by clearing away the jungle. Dr.
Rose was in medical charge of the place at the time of my visit, and as
it was the good old custom to put up with any friend one came across
towards nightfall, I made him my host when my day's work was over. We
spent a very pleasant evening together, and naturally discussed all the
local news. Amongst other things we chatted about the new road which
was being constructed from Voi to a rather important missionary station
called Taveta, near Mount Kilima N'jaro, and Dr. Rose mentioned that
Mr. O'Hara (the engineer in charge of the road-making), with his wife
and children, was encamped in the Wa Taita country, about twelve miles
away from Voi.

Early next morning I went out for a stroll with my shot-gun, but had
not gone far from the doctor's tent when I saw in the distance four
Swahili carrying something which looked like a stretcher along the
newly-made road. Fearing that some accident had happened, I went
quickly to meet them and called out to ask what they were carrying.
They shouted back "Bwana" ("The master"); and when I asked what bwana,
they replied "Bwana O'Hara." On enquiring what exactly had happened,
they told me that during the night their master had