It is with feelings of the greatest diffidence that I place thefollowing pages before the public; but those of my friends who happento have heard of my rather unique experiences in the wilds have sooften urged me to write an account of my adventures, that after muchhesitation I at last determined to do so.
I have no doubt that many of my readers, who have perhaps never beenvery far away from civilisation, will be inclined to think that some ofthe incidents are exaggerated. I can only assure them that I have toneddown the facts rather than otherwise, and have endeavoured to write aperfectly plain and straightforward account of things as they actuallyhappened.
It must be remembered that at the time these events occurred, theconditions prevailing in British East Africa were very different fromwhat they are to-day. The railway, which has modernised the aspect ofthe place and brought civilisation in its train, was then only inprocess of construction, and the country through which it was beingbuilt was still in its primitive savage state, as indeed, away from therailway, it still is.
If this simple account of two years' work and play in the wilds shouldprove of any interest, or help even in a small way to call attention tothe beautiful and valuable country which we possess on the Equator, Ishall feel more than compensated for the trouble I have taken inwriting it.
I am much indebted to the Hon. Mrs. Cyril Ward, Sir GuilfordMolesworth, K.C.I.E., Mr. T.J. Spooner and Mr C. Rawson for theirkindness in allowing me to reproduce photographs taken by them. Mywarmest thanks are also due to that veteran pioneer of Africa, Mr. F.C.Selous, for giving my little book so kindly an introduction to thepublic as is provided by the "Foreword" which he has been good enoughto write.
J.H.P. August, 1907.
It was some seven or eight years ago that I first read, in the pages ofThe Field newspaper, a brief account written by Col. J.H. Patterson,then an engineer engaged on the construction of the Uganda Railway, ofthe Tsavo man-eating lions.
My own long experience of African hunting told me at once that everyword in this thrilling narrative was absolutely true. Nay more: I knewthat the author had told his story in a most modest manner, laying butlittle stress on the dangers he had run when sitting up at nights totry and compass the death of the terrible man-eaters, especially onthat one occasion when whilst watching from a very light scaffolding,supported only by four rickety poles, he was himself stalked by one ofthe dread beasts. Fortunately he did not lose his nerve, and succeededin shooting the lion, just when it was on the point of springing uponhim. But had this lion approached him from behind, I think it wouldprobably have added Col. Patterson to its long list of victims, for inmy own experience I have known of three instances of men having beenpulled from trees or huts built on platforms at a greater height from