Summary

John Boyes A White King in East Africa

There had been an ominous stillness around the camp for some time, when suddenly the air was rent by a wild uproar, and we heard the war-cry of the tribe spreading from village to village, mingled with the shrieking of women and children. Over all the din the hideous howl of the hyenas could be distinguished. These animals seem to realize when there is a feast of human flesh in store for them, and at the sound of the native war-cry, which warns them of a fight being at hand, they are always on the alert. The natives never bury their dead, but leave them for the hyenas to eat.
Source: Gutenberg

John Boyes A White King in East Africa

The Wa-Kikuyu, as we knew, seldom or never show themselves, or run the risk of a fight in the open, but lie like snakes in the long grass, or in some dense bush within a few yards of the line of march, watching for a gap in the ranks, or for some incautious porter to stray away, or loiter a few yards behind; even then not a sound is heard; a scarcely perceptible ‘twang’ of a small bow, the almost inaudible ‘whizz’ of a little poisoned arrow for a dozen yards through the air, a slight puncture in the arm, throat, or chest, followed, almost inevitably, by the death of a man.
Source: Gutenberg

John Boyes A White King in East Africa

Of course, at the present day, my name is little more than a legend among the Kikuyu, around which many wonderful stories have been built up by the people. In the nine years which have elapsed since I left the country many of the older men who knew me have died, while the rising generation, who, as children, only knew of me as the most powerful influence in the province, have only vague memories of actual happenings, which they have gradually embroidered until I should have great difficulty in recognizing some of the occurrences myself in their present form.
Source: Gutenberg

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