The Great Walking Train

The Great Walking Train

A night mare; one night long ago…

Sam Mwaka-karama

      In the dry harvest season, the village was always lively, happy and buzzed with busy-bee activities. The village women were already on the kraal spreading the fresh harvest millet for the drying hot day.

      We the village kids hardly ever overslept in the dry season – by the early Lakana sunrise we were already seated atop the huge grand old Aliri anthill; where that little part of the anthill we had broken the previous evening protruded out wet fine earth… the Okok ants had over-night sealed the broken part by rebuilding a small mold. It was this fresh earth that we used to roll small round balls for our catapult. That was our routine; early to rise and sweep the kraal clean of all goats overnight droppings – so that our mothers dried and processed the harvests by day.

      The boys from across the Oitino River were already blowing their hands telling us that the birds hunting party had started moving-out and we should hurry hurry hurry! Otoye-toye-toye… wan-do cako-wot’o, wot-wunnu yo-yot otoye-toye-toye!

      As the soldier ants strike-out at our fingers, we quickly flick them away and sometimes crush them into the balls we now hurriedly roll. ‘Kwiik, kwiik, kwiik’ – suddenly Okwiik the black birds perched high up the tall majestic Tugu palm trees shriek down at us… and using the dried hard earth balls we had made the previous day – we slug them rapidly. They scatter flying north the direction we were preparing to go. So we hurry to run after them.

      Yelling and scrambling down the anthill, we race after them occasionally sending our earth balls at them; Okwiik are a clumsy flier, but they are freak birds – no village boy ever shot them down – so we merely catapult the slugs at them aimlessly. Sensing the slugs zapping around they quickly scale-up flying higher and higher and eventually out of our reach.

       At the Rocky River convergent point we meet the boys from across – we are friends, age-mates and often fighting foes as well. But this morning we were in good camaraderie friendship we all joked and laughed.

        As we walked away from the villages the bird hunting party effectively began then; every boy was on the look-out for the wild doves Akuri; the tough winged pigeons dried on open fire tasted salty – we all looked out for them. The land was vast as far as the eyes could see and, we just kept going.

        By mid-day I had killed three little birds; some of the bigger boys had already killed one or two Akuri wild doves – the biggest boy among us had killed a spy squirrel; Tilli slugged it clean between the eye and the ear… it was warm and its hind-legs kicked weakly as the big boy picked it up, twisting its neck dead.

       Tilli’s father was my father’s brother – and we the kids from my grandfather’s clan saw him as our head. Now we were one up on the boys from across because our head boy had already made the big kill of the day – now he had two pigeons, one Aliboro and the squirrel.

       The wild and now rowdy birds hunting party walked on and on past even the furthest villages on the far outer fringes towards the wild country side. Many times, a rabbit and other small animals suddenly bolted in a blurry get away – Tilli’s dog Genkumi snatched the streak rabbit in a spectacular chase I was to see for the first time – awesome it was!

        The dry season wild fire had swept the country side clean – so our birds hunting party just went on and on. At length, we had eventually gathered around a group of huge trees in the mid afternoon silently searching for birds in the dense green leaves and slugging at them quietly – it was hot and the birds landed on the trees to rest and cool down… I killed two good size pigeons there. Just then the older boys decided we gather twigs and start a fire. The older boys looked for and found a particular type of tree and broke its twigs; sitting on the ground a boy placed two twigs together and held them firmly by his heels and then used a pencil sized twig that he vigorously rubbed between his palms and presently smoke began to appear at the contact point he firmly grinded… another boy added soft dry grass to this grinded-point and blew his cheeks hard at it till the flames appeared – now everybody picked dry grass and lighted the fire and the roasting of birds and small animals spread-out.

The abominable Walking Train…

       It was suddenly getting dark when we realized the day was gone and if we didn’t hurry back we were getting caught-up by nightfall… it was then that we suddenly began hearing some not so far away strange rhythmic weird  crunching, clanging and hissing noise! Bewildered, we all stopped the roasting and eating and listened craning our necks and cocking our ears – we held our breaths.

      We were gripped! Terror rooted us immobile as the noise coming from over the headland westwards was now louder and louder; and suddenly thick black smoke billowed; chwek-whwek-chwek-whwek-chwek; clang-wrek, clang-werk, clang-wrek, clang-wrek – we scampered running homewards, but the hideous menacing noise moved much faster cutting us off – suddenly as we got onto the headland there it was struggling up valley; a twisty long train hissing white hydro-smoke - like out of two huge nostrils and, black smoke out of the top of its head… the train and coaches all moved on legs the size of a huge man’s chest as it walked its multiple legs in unison, bending at the knees and at its Elephant like large heavy feet.

        Many times in the uneven hillside as it detoured to cut-us off from breaking into a terrified home run one or the other of its many-many massive legs jerked sideways revealing an open between the thigh and the lower leg where a glistening hydraulic shock system appeared briefly and steadied it shortened back and walked on – terrified many of the other kids had already run away but three of us were transfixed staring at the awesome walking train… inside it was weak yellow light and head and shoulders of passengers could be furtively seen.

        Two engineers sweat drenched were busy in their tiny cabin: the big fat charcoal black one threw hefty logs in the hellfire that cooked and boiled the engine – while his pencil thin colleague hanged out; his face reminded me of the moon crescent; his fore-head was bulging and his thin mouth drawn tight inwards with a long smoking pipe also with pointed chin was firmly bitten by his clenched hard jaw – spittle occasionally streaked out of the side of his mouth, his engineer’s cap pasted at the back of his head and, his hair around it was graying… I realized that he was unseeingly looking around because he obviously did not see us – as the walking train momentarily stopped and; presently one of the doors flung open and a thin lone woman silhouetted out and claimed down the three steps disappearing afoot the massive walking train at the grassy ground. Then the train began moving… now we ran and ran and ran till I suddenly woke-up! O! O! Ohh! A night mare! I was drenched in sweat my heart beating wildly. I nearly died in the abominable scare! ***