The Wanderobo—Visit from the Wanderobo chief—Native bartering—A grand meeting of surrounding tribes for blood brotherhood under my auspices—Dancing frenzy—Native ideas of a future life—Again trek for the unknown—Attacked by natives—Chief’s admonition—Decide to visit the Wanderobo chief Olomondo—Wanderobo gluttony—The honey bird—Wanderobo methods of hunting—Massacre of a Goanese safari—My narrow escape—General uprising of hostile tribes—Rise of the Chinga tribe against me—My precarious position—Successful sally and total defeat of the enemy—My blood brother, the Kikuyu chieftain, comes to my aid with thousands of armed men—Total extinction of the Chinga people
During my stay at Wagombi’s another chief turned up, who proved to be a man named Olomondo, chief of the Wanderobo tribe. The Wanderobo are a race of hunters, who live entirely by hunting, and inhabit the country round Mount Kenia and on the great plain adjoining Wagombi’s country, down towards the Guasa Nyero River. Olomondo came to see me, and, according to the custom of the country, brought me a present of honey. It is always customary when making a visit to a stranger to bring a present, and the recipient is himself expected to return the compliment by giving a present of at least an equal value to the one he has received. This man was plainly quite a different type of native to Wagombi’s people, being rather sharp-featured and practically the same as the Masai. I found out, in the course of conversation, that his clan numbered about six hundred men, besides women and children, and that their kraal was about two days’ march to the north-west of us. He mentioned the Maswatch-wanya, and told me that in the course of his hunting he had seen these pigmy people, but had never got into communication with them. It was Wagombi’s boast that Mount Kenia belonged to him and the Wanderobo were his people, and joined him if there was a fight. I afterwards found that they were a very timid people, but, judging from the quality of their weapons, I should imagine that they could put up a good fight, Olomondo’s bow and arrows being much larger and stronger than those of the Kikuyu, which were like toys in comparison, while as a proof of their ability to use them, I saw Olomondo put an arrow clean through an antelope as big as a sheep. He invited me out to his camp, saying that he had some ivory for sale, and also saying that there was any amount of game out on the plain, and asking me to go hunting with him. This I promised to do later on. Incidentally, he complained of the Kikuyu getting his ivory, as many of the elephants his people wounded strayed away and died in the forest, and the Kikuyu would find their bodies and take the ivory. I told him that I was afraid I could not do anything in the matter, as it was quite impossible to trace the ivory. The Wanderobo knew the commercial value of ivory, and had sold it to the Arab and Swahili traders.