V., who is a "Masai-man," who knows them
intimately, and who possesses their confidence, does not pretend to talk
with them in their own tongue, but employs the universal Swahili.
XL.
THROUGH THE ENCHANTED FOREST.
We delayed at V.'s boma three days, waiting for C. to turn up. He
maintained a little force of Wakamba, as the Masai would not take
service. The Wakamba are a hunting tribe, using both the spear and the
poisoned arrow to kill their game. Their bows are short and powerful,
and the arrows exceedingly well fashioned. The poison is made from the
wood of a certain fat tree, with fruit like gigantic bologna sausages.
It is cut fine, boiled, and the product evaporated away until only a
black sticky substance remains. Into this the point of the arrow is
dipped; and the head is then protected until required by a narrow strip
of buckskin wound around and around it. I have never witnessed the
effects of this poison; but V. told me he had seen an eland die in
twenty-two minutes from so slight a wound in the shoulder that it ran
barely a hundred yards before stopping. The poison more or less loses
its efficiency, however, after the sticky, tarlike substance has dried
out.
I offered a half-rupee as a prize for an archery competition, for I was
curious to get a view of their marksmanship. The bull's-eye was a piece
of typewriter paper at thirty paces.[27] This they managed to puncture
only once out of fifteen tries, though they never missed it very widely.
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