Then out in the blackness beyond our little globe of light we
became aware of a dull confusion, a rustling to and fro. Through
the shadows the eye could guess at movement. The confusion
steadied to a kind of rhythm, and into the circle of the fire
came the group of Monumwezis. Again they were gathered together
in a compact little mass; but now they were bent nearly double,
and were stripped to the red blankets about their waists. Before
them writhed Sulimani, close to earth, darting irregularly now to
right, now to left, wriggling, spreading his arms abroad. He was
repeating over and over two phrases; or rather the same phrase
in two such different intonations that they seemed to convey
quite separate meanings.
"Ka soompeele?" he cried with a strongly appealing interrogation.
"Ka soompeele!" he repeated with the downward inflection of
decided affirmation.
And the bent men, their dark bodies gleaming in the firelight,
stamping in rhythm every third step, chorused in a deep rumbling
bass:
"Goom zoop! goom zoop!"
Thus they advanced; circled between us and the fire, and withdrew
to the half darkness, where tirelessly they continued the same
reiterations.
Hardly had they withdrawn when another group danced forward in
their places. These were the Kikuyus. They had discarded
completely their safari clothes, and now came forth dressed out
in skins, in strips of white cloth, with feathers, shells and
various ornaments. They carried white wands to represent spears,
and they sang their tribal lion song. A soloist delivered the
main argument in a high wavering minor and was followed by a deep
rumbling emphatic chorus of repetition, strongly accented so that
the sheer rhythm of it was most pronounced:
"An-gee a Ka ga An-gee a Ka ga An-gee a Ka ga Ki ya Ka ga Ka
ga an gee ya!"
Solemnly and loftily, their eyes fixed straight before them they
made the circle of the fire, passed before our chairs, and
withdrew to the half light. There, a few paces from the stamping,
crouching Monumwezis, they continued their performance.
The next to appear were the Wakambas. These were more
histrionic. They too were unrecognizable as our porters, for they
too had for the lion discarded their work-a-day garments in
favour of savage. They produced a pantomime of the day's doings,
very realistic indeed, ending with a half dozen of dark swaying
bodies swinging and shuddering in the long grass as lions, while
the "horses" wove in and out among the crouching forms, all done
to the beat of rhythm. Past us swept the hunt, and in its turn
melted into the half light.
The Kavirondos next appeared, the most fantastically caparisoned
of the lot, fine big black men, their eyes rolling with
excitement. They had captured our flag from its place before the
big tent, and were rallied close about this, dancing
fantastically.
