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A: Which way did you go?
R: I skirted the forest, searching for open land. I was looking for the Moguan.
A: The Moguan?
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If we consider the Guas Ngishu [Uasin Gishu] Plateau with regard to its native population, we must point out, as already remarked, that the greater portion of the territory is at present without any population. It has, however, been populated...we find unmistakable traces of population--that is to say, circular stone walls with an inner diameter of 2 to 40 metres, which partly represent ruins of huts, but partially also fortifications in the shape of circular walls. In many places, the Masai of today call these stone erections "Moguan." They are 2 metres in height and 1 metre in thickness. They are built of quarry stones, carefully fitted into each other ... Not infrequently, the roughly wattled huts of Wandorobo hunters, who consumed their booty there and heaped up enormous quantities of bones, are found in these depressions. In many cases these Moguan are also made of large rocks placed in a circle, and must then be considered as the defences or so-called "Bomas" of the vanished population. I have seen similar stone erections in Southern Kavirondo and on the heights of the MauMountains, and I know that they are found in Nandi, also. It may therefore be supposed that all those Moguan have their origin in an ancient population...
From Dr. Alfred Kaiser's Report (Wertheimer, Lea and Co., 1905)
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A: Why were you looking for these Moguan?
R: (Unintelligible).
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From the Rabbi's Journal, February 4th
As I close my eyes, the landscape is still visible to me–more visible to me–but it is no longer singular. It is like watching a picture through lenses that refract and overlap the image, until it resembles a hazy mosaic. Yet it is becoming clearer to me–the source of the interference, of the overlap, as if time has been piled onto time, and I see one layer as the present and another as the future, or the past. Or perhaps I am only watching two different presents...
Today I walked through open grass plains. There were herds of antelope in the distance, and I thought I had heard a lion, though I couldn't see it. My skin is turning brown in this sun; I have discarded most of my European clothing and now walk with my upper body bare, as well as my feet, the soles of which are gradually growing hard again. During my short time in the forest I had gathered several rare herbs and tree barks. At midday, I stopped in the shade of an acacia and built a small fire, and made a tea with some of the herbs I had gathered.
When I drank it the world became clearer, the picture I had been carrying in my head since arriving became focused. The Moguan shine in this mental landscape like pinpricks of light, like the points on the Tree of Life. They seem to form a pattern whose meaning I cannot yet see. Later, when it cools down, I will continue my journey. I am near to one of them, can feel it, its vibrations–it is a source of power. I think they are like the holes made by a needle in a cloth, the points the thread passes through when it binds one material to another.
February 5th
I have come across a Nandi hunting party this morning, camped in the Moguan I was seeking yesterday. The Moguan is a large, circular structure made of great stone walls, somewhat resembling an eye planted in the earth. I walked through an opening into the confines of this eye, which is like an imposing courtyard open to the sky. The Nandi hunters surrounded me, looking wary. They were armed with spears and some European guns, which they levelled at me.
I spoke to them in Swahili, which several of them spoke. They had with them an old Inyanga–I am using the Zulu word here, and I think their word for what we may call tzaddik is Orkoiyot, though I cannot be sure–who came forward and put his hand on my forehead. I could feel the power in him, and for a moment we stood in perfect stillness. Once more I could feel the dual nature of this land swim against the back of my eyes, growing clearer all the while. Then the Inyanga released me and smiled, and the rest of the Nandi removed their weapons.
"You are far from home, mzungu," he said. Mzungu means "white man" in Swahili. There was a puzzled look in his eyes when he spoke.
"What is home?" I said, and he laughed. He invited me to their fire, and I shared in their food. Antelope meat was cooking on the coals.
I am convinced that the Nandi are connected to this mystery I can feel here. They are remarkably Semitic in appearance, and when I spoke to their healer by the fire he said their forefathers–whom he called Kalenjin–had travelled South over the centuries, coming from a place by a great river in a hot and arid desert, which I take to mean Egypt. They practice circumcision–as I found out when several of us relieved ourselves after sharing water–and believe in God, whom they call Asis. I spoke for long with the healer, but it is what we did not speak of–the shades that walk over this earth as if they are real–that underlined our conversation.
At last, he offered to let me join them. He was as curious about me as I was about him, I think. I had given him some of the herbs I had collected, receiving in return a small store of dried powder that he said contained the power of vision. We shall travel together–both here and, I hope, in that other place.
I have not lost sight of the others, but they have all gone in different directions. I have a feeling Wilbusch will become lost...
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A: What do you mean they are Semitic?
R: What didn't you understand?
A: They're Black.
R: So are the Ethiopian Jews. The Falash Mura. You could argue they, and not European Jews, are the true descendants of Israel. King Solomon–
A: If you're talking about the Queen of Sheba–
R: I don't rightly know if you have any idea what I'm talking about.
A: (Pause.) I'm trying to understand.
R: What is the purpose of all this questioning? This all took place a long time ago. It's barely a footnote to history. The Uganda Plan. A barely-remembered story. Why do you suddenly care?
A: (Unintelligible).
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From Wilbusch's diary
1905
February
6 Camp on the Sirgoi
6 a.m. 52° F. 4 p.m. 80° F. 9 p.m. 60° F.During the day strong east winds. Evening calm.
Waited for main caravan.Made map of the route. Went about 3 miles south during the afternoon, but found no one. Territory: the same moderately good pasture grass, but a little more dry; no water or wood anywhere; many antelope.
7 On the Sirgoi
6 a.m. 42° F. 12 noon 84° F. 5 p.m. 79° F. 9 p.m. 52° F. Strong east wind during the day. Clear. Evening calm.
Waited for main caravan and wrote preliminary report. Went about 2 miles south in the afternoon, then about 2 miles east, saw no one. The porters' rice came to an end today.
8 On the Sirgoi
6.30 a.m. 54° F. 2 p.m. 78° F. 9 p.m. 56° F. Strong east wind during the day.Evening quiet.
Waited for main caravan, but no one came.
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From Gibbons' report
On February 8th I spent another tedious day in the forest. It took ten hours to make as many miles. Fortunately, in the late afternoon we emerged onto a narrow open strip about a mile in length, and here camp was pitched for the night. By noon the following day the forest was cleared, and about a mile further we passed the farm of three South Africans, the brothers Van Breda. Their oxen and donkeys were a living proof of the excellence of the pasture in their district. One of the brothers informed me that a few nights previously, three oxen had been stolen from the "kraal" adjoining the house. About a fortnight later, we heard that first the remaining cattle were stolen, and finally ten savages approached the boy who tended the donkeys within half a mile of the house, told him to go home, and proceeded to drive the donkeys into the forest. By the time the boy could apprise his masters of the robbery, the thieves had made good their escape, and an attempt to overtake them proved futile.
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From the Rabbi's Journal February 10th
> I did not take part in the raid on the farm. The Nandi hunters, who had been to the place several days previously, now returned to complete their acquisitions, as it were. We went deep into the forest with the animals. Their village, they informed me, was at the foothills of the Chipchangwane mountains to the north. As we walked through the darkening forest, strange howls could be heard in the distance of a kind I had not heard before, being neither lion nor elephant nor any other animal I could recognise. The Nandi seemed worried, casting glances at the thick underbrush of the forest, and kept their weapons at the ready. I asked the Inyanga what it was.
"Kerit," he said. He did not elaborate.
The others did not look happy at his mentioning the name.
"Probably a lion," one of them, Wambua, said in Swahili. He did not look as though he believed it.
The animals, too, were frightened, and the hunters had considerable problems getting them to move along. At last we stopped on a rocky outcrop that overlooked the entire valley below, spread open like a map. The Nandi were easier here, and built a fire. That night we were not disturbed, though the howls of the Kerit continued to be heard in the distance.
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February 11th
I woke up in the night and, going to relive myself beyond the boundaries of the camp, heard the howl of a Kerit close by. I saw a large animal sitting up on its haunches no more than thirty yards away. It was nearly five feet high and moved with a shambling gait. I shouted, and it stopped and turned its head to look at me. It was larger than a bear and as heavily built. The forequarters were very thickly furred, as were all four legs, and the head was long and pointed and resembled a bear's. Somehow, there was a sense of the primate about it, too, and its eyes held mine for a long moment before it disappeared into the forest. It had not harmed me.
I returned to the camp and found the Inyanga waiting by the fire, looking grave. "What is a Kerit?" I said.
He made a sign with his hand, as if warding off evil, but then seemed to relax. "Our people say it is a devil which prowls on the darkest nights, seeking people, especially children, to devour. It is half like a man and half like a huge, ape-faced bird, and you may know it at once from its fearful howling roar, and because in the dark of night its mouth glows red like the embers of a log."
I waited, recognising some of what he said in the animal I saw, but doubting its evil. "And what do you say?" I asked at last.
He smiled. He had many teeth missing. "It is an animal," he said. "I have heard the European settlers call it the Nandi Bear, but I have never seen a bear, and the Nandi do not claim this animal as ours."
"I have never seen such an animal," I said, but then a dim memory rose in my mind, of a visit to a museum, a long time ago on another continent, under another name. There was a skeleton on display. The Inyanga nodded as if reading my mind.
"Tomorrow my people will return to their village," he said. "But, if you are willing, not you and I." He stirred the embers with a stick and sighed. The night was very still. "This land is both old and new," he said, and I was again reminded of Herzl's words, of Altneuland. "What we call the past and the future are, perhaps, not as firmly fixed in their positions as they should be. I will show you."
"Show me what?" I said.
"The place where the Kerit live," he said.
He said no more, and shortly returned to his sleep. I find myself unable to follow. I sit and write by the dying light of the fire.
Tomorrow, then.
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A: What is this Kerit?
R: I had thought it a–what is the term we use today?–an endangered species. (Laughs). The creature I saw that night looked powerful, but not malevolent. I think it is only humans who can be evil, while animals only follow their nature. Is that old fashioned?
A: But what is it? There are no bears in Africa.
R: When I returned, I went back to the museum I remembered. I saw the same skeleton. It was... similar. It could have been the same animal, or at least is forefather.
A: What was it?
R: A Chalicothere. (Pause.) A species of perissodactyl mammals that evolved in the mid-Eocene, around forty million years ago (pause). They died out three and a half million years ago.
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From Gibbons' Report
On the morning of the 11th I climbed the hill to the west, on the lower slopes of which my camp stood, and from the summit commanded a comprehensive view of the country around me. To the north a bold, rough country presented itself to my view. A great group of mountains lay back for many miles, many of these appearing to attain an altitude of 10,000 to 12,000 feet. Some were abrupt and rugged, some of gentler gradient. A few were covered, or partially covered, with dense forest, though the majority grew grass, except where the rock bed was exposed. To the northeast and east there appeared to be an interminable stretch of primeval forest, interspersed at rare intervals with small patches of grassland. I saw at once that any attempt to make my way in that direction was out of the question. It would have required much more time than I had at my disposal. I determined, therefore, to skirt the range on its western boundary. A very rough commencement led us for some 700 feet down the steep slopes of the hill into a rugged valley below. Tracing a stream with clear mountain water, we finally entered a narrow valley girt on all sides by mountains and extending upwards of fifteen miles to the north. This valley might well be called "Valley of the Lions." I never heard so many of these animals in any one place as I did during the two nights I was encamped here.
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From the Rabbi's Journal, February 12th
This morning the Nandi departed with their loot, heading for lower ground, and the Inyanga and I headed north and up the mountains. We came across what appeared to be Gibbons' camp. There were signs there of much movement, and the Inyanga, upon examining the ground, chuckled.
"His guide is Masai," he said, "and ignorant of this land. There has been a mutiny, of sorts. No doubt the porters were afraid to head further north for fear of the Nandi. But I can see the Mzungu chief overruled them, for they have continued on their way."
We reached a stream and I washed myself in its cool water, and swam. The water was sweet and, standing still in the water, I caught fish with my fingers. The Inyanga put sharpened stakes through them and we grilled them on a small fire. It seemed Gibbons was heading in the same direction as we were, and the Inyanga thought it prudent not to follow too quickly. At night I heard the Kerit again, far in the distance. When I raised my head the stars filled the entire sky, and the Milky Way was exposed like a rich vein of diamonds revealed in the wall of a dark mine.
The Inyanga and I prepared a tea with the dark bark of a tall evergreen tree that grows here on the mountain. The tea made me drowsy, but behind my eyes the lands, their disparity, grew closer, and I began to imagine I could see streets, wide avenues lined with trees, and unknown automobiles moving along the paved roads, as slow as snails since there were so many of them. Globes of electrical lights hung high above the street, and the air was full of an unfamiliar stench, like that of chemical smoke pouring out of an invisible factory. I saw the stream, but in my dream it was no longer filled with water but with a sort of inky greyness in which nothing lived. Somewhere in the distance I heard an explosion, and a car with a red star of David painted on its side sped past me, but was soon halted by the traffic. I heard people scream.
I shook myself with difficulty away from the dream. For a long time I sat by the brook and stared into the water and listened to the silence.
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From Wilbusch's Diary
1905
February
13 Base camp
Waited on account of scarcity of porters. At 6 o'clock in the morning 19 men went to the ravine for rice. About 5 in the afternoon Mr. Kaiser went NW to the Nzoia with 14 men. I remained with 8 men in the camp. Made sketch of the route.
14 Base camp
Kept waiting for want of porters.Made excursion of about 3½ miles to Karuna wi
th Masia and one porter. On the third mile I took specimens of the soil and minerals from Karuna, which consisted of quartz rock and stone. Ascended to the summit. The view was little pleasing, except the Elgeyo escarpment, which was wooded. There was inferior and dried-up pasture grass everywhere. No water and no trees. To the north there were the AkkabrieMountains, the slopes of which were dotted with isolated bushes. No trace of life or of people. On the road the grass is short and drying. Several antelope, water-bucks and hares. At the second mile, and on the top of Karuna, were stone kraals which had been abandoned a long time.
15 Base camp
Read "The Uganda Protectorate" by Sir. H. Johnson. Delayed owing to want of porters.
16 Base camp.
Waited owing to want of porters.
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From the Rabbi's Journal, February 17th
The ChipchangwaneMountains make for a slow ascent, yet from their height the whole of the Uasin Gishu Plateau can be seen below, and it is a magnificent sight. When I look at it normally it is a land of wide savannahs and green mountains, rolling brooks and flowing streams, of herds of elephants and darting hare. Yet when I close my eyes it metamorphoses, and it is a land of white stone and paved roads, of factories and smoke. Small, black dirigibles float in the air where, when my eyes are open, only clouds exist.