Chapter 29

They sailed three weeks later on the SS Gaston, arriving in Mombasa twenty-eight days later. They travelled by train to Nairobi and booked into the only hotel in the town. David wasted no time in outfitting for the journey into the interior. At one of the safari stores he made inquiries about hiring a guide. When the man who ran the store realised that David was not interested in shooting big game he became off-hand, “There’s plenty of native guides, so you’ll need to ask around.” At the hotel he asked the native door man if he knew of someone. “Most would say they were guides Bwana but there are few who have travelled beyond Nairobi. There is one man, he’s Matabele, but he has travelled great distances just to arrive here.”

“Would you ask him if he would speak with me?” David asked giving the man a tip.

The next morning the doorman told David the man he wanted to speak to was outside. When David went outside he found a giant of a man standing like a statue in the road. “Jambo,” David speaking one of the few words he had picked up.

“I see you, Bwana,” the man replied in a deep voice.

They moved to the side of the hotel and David sat down on the step and took out Guy’s map. Unfolding it he pointed to the hills of the crater, “I wish to go there.” The man looked down at the map not fully comprehending it. David pointed to Nairobi on the map, “This is here,” pointing to the place on the map and then waving his arm around to indicate the town.

The man’s face cleared, as he understood. “Does the Bwana wish to shoot?”

David shook his head, “No, just to see the land.”

The man frowned, “Does the Bwana wish me to guide him?” he asked.

David smiled and nodded “Me, I’m Bwana Ramage,” pointing to himself, and pointed to the man, “You are?”

The man smiled showing white teeth, “N’debi.”

“Well N’debi, we will need help with the cooking and tents, do you know where we can find that help, there are three of us in the party.”

“I have men who will help the Bwana.”

“And how must I pay N’debi and his men?” David asked.

“The Bwana will feed us and give us tobacco and one shilling a day for the men and two shillings a day for N’debi, and two shillings a day for the cook.”

“Are all your men Matabele, N’debi?” David asked.

“Yes Bwana, all except the cook, but he has a cart and mules in which your tents and things can be loaded.”

“I should like to meet this cook.”

“He shall be here at sunset, Bwana.”

The cook was definitely not Matabele, David realised when he met him. He was wearing what looked like a nightshirt and a red fez on his head. He pulled off the fez and gave a little bow, “Good evening sir. N’debi says you require a cook?”

David was pleasantly surprised at the man’s grasp of English. He was about 5’ 3” with a milk chocolate completion but with a Caucasian rather than Negroid aspects of his face. “Good evening my name is Ramage, David Ramage, and yes I need a cook to travel with us into the interior.”

The man smiled and bowed again, “My name is Ali and I have all my cooking utensils in my cart which is pulled by two fine mules and there is plenty of room for Sir’s camping equipment on it.”

“Then we have ourselves a cook. By the way Ali what tribe do you belong too?”

His face fell at the question, “Alas no tribe would have me sir, my mother fell afoul of a slaver’s lust and I am the result of that lust.”

David nodded in sympathy, “Well Ali, tomorrow I must buy food and equipment for the safari and then we can start.”

“Forgive me for saying so Sir, but it would be better if you let me get the things you need. The stores will try to cheat you but they can’t cheat Ali. All it would need is for someone to be there once a price has been agreed to pay.”

David agreed and arranged to meet the following morning. Over dinner that night he told Susan and Martin about N’debi and Ali. “N’debi must have been 6’ 3” and every inch packed with muscle.”

Martin frowned remembering, “Matabele you say, I remember reading somewhere they had a war with the Dutch Afrikaners and Cecil Rhodes’ men. They’re an offshoot from the Zulu nation, probably the most feared of all the African tribes.”