slowly, to be sure; their gait may be maddeningly deliberate, but
evidently they do not intend to be hurried. Why not let them take their
own speed?

But all this hullabaloo means something after all. It does its business,
and the top of the boulder-strewn hill is gained. Without it the whole
concern would have stopped, and then the wagon would have to be unloaded
before a fresh start could have been made. Results with cattle are not
shown by facial expression nor by increased speed, but simply by
continuance. They will plod up steep hills or along the level at the
same placid gait. Only in the former case they require especial
treatment.

In case the wagon gets stuck on a hill, as will occasionally happen, so
that all the oxen are discouraged at once, we would see one of the
Kikuyus leading the team back and forth, back and forth, on the side
hill just ahead of the wagon. This is to confuse their minds, cause them
to forget their failure, and thus to make another attempt.

At one stretch we had three days of real mountains. N'gombe[21] Brown
shrieked like a steam calliope all the way through. He lasted the
distance, but had little camp-fire conversation even with his beloved
Kikuyus.

When the team is outspanned, which in the waterless country of forced
marches is likely to be almost any time of the day or night, N'gombe
Brown sought a little rest. For this purpose he had a sort of bunk that
let down underneath the wagon. If it were daytime, the cattle were
allowed to graze under supervision of one of the Kikuyus. If it was
night time they were tethered to the long chain, where they lay in a