Remember King Solomon's mines!'
Some fourteen weeks or so had passed since the date of this conversation,
and this history goes on its way in very different surroundings.
After much deliberation and inquiry we came to the conclusion
that our best starting-point for Mt Kenia would be from the neighbourhood
of the mouth of the Tana River, and not from Mombassa, a place
over 100 miles nearer Zanzibar. This conclusion we arrived at
from information given to us by a German trader whom we met upon
the steamer at Aden. I think that he was the dirtiest German
I ever knew; but he was a good fellow, and gave us a great deal
of valuable information. 'Lamu,' said he, 'you goes to Lamu
-- oh ze beautiful place!' and he turned up his fat face and
beamed with mild rapture. 'One year and a half I live there
and never change my shirt -- never at all.'
And so it came to pass that on arriving at the island we disembarked
with all our goods and chattels, and, not knowing where to go,
marched boldly up to the house of Her Majesty's Consul, where
we were most hospitably received.
Lamu is a very curious place, but the things which stand out
most clearly in my memory in connection with it are its exceeding
dirtiness and its smells.
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