I was doing some cleaning today and I cleared lots of cob webs, I saw spiders fleeing for their lives and whacked them with the broom and it meant nothing to me. I just wiped out entire city of spiders probably with women and children and it's just another Sunday to me😭 I'm going to go on with my life like it never happened. This is what being God must feel like
I'm a United fan, but omugagga wa arsenal akoze open bar naagaba ne ku nkalu.
12th.
Immediately after breakfast the king sent his pages in a great hurry to say he was waiting on the hill for me, and begged I would bring all my guns immediately. I prepared, thinking, naturally enough, that some buffaloes had been marked down; for the boys, as usual, were perfectly ignorant of his designs.
To my surprise, however, when I mounted the hill half-way to the palace, I found the king standing, dressed in a rich filagreed waistcoat, trimmed with gold embroidery, tweedling the loading-rod in his fingers, and an alfia cap on his head, whilst his pages held his chair and guns, and a number of officers, with dogs and goats for offerings, squatted before him.
When I arrived, hat in hand, he smiled, examined my firearms, and proceeded for sport, leading the way to a high tree, on which some adjutant birds were nesting, and numerous vultures resting. This was the sport; Bana must shoot a nundo (adjutant) for the king's gratification.
I begged him to take a shot himself, as I really could not demean myself by firing at birds sitting on a tree; but it was all of no use—no one could shoot as I could, and they must be shot. I proposed frightening them out with stones, but no stone could reach so high; so, to cut the matter short, I killed an adjutant on the nest, and, as the vultures flew away, brought one down on the wing, which fell in a garden enclosure.
The Waganda were for a minute all spell-bound with astonishment, when the king jumped frantically in the air, clapping his hands above his head, and singing out, “Woh, woh, woh! what wonders! Oh, Bana, Bana! what miracles he performs!”—and all the Wakungu followed in chorus.
“Now load, Bana—load, and let us see you do it,” cried the excited king; but before I was half loaded, he said, “Come along, come along, and let us see the bird.”
Then directing the officers which way to go—for, by the etiquette of the court of Uganda, every one must precede the king—he sent them through a court where his women, afraid of the gun, had been concealed.
Here the rush onward was stopped by newly made fences, but the king roared to the officers to knock them down. This was no sooner said than done, by the attendants in a body shoving on and trampling them under, as an elephant would crush small trees to keep his course.
So pushing, floundering through plaintain and shrub, pell-mell one upon the other, that the king's pace might not be checked, or any one come in for a royal kick or blow, they came upon the prostrate bird.
“Woh, woh, woh!” cried the king again, “there he is, sure enough; come here, women—come and look what wonders!”
And all the women, in the highest excitement, “woh-wohed” as loud as any of the men.
But that was not enough.
“Come along, Bana,” said the king, “we must have some more sport;”
and, saying this he directed the way towards the queen's palace, the attendants leading, followed by the pages, then the king, next myself—for I never would walk before him—and finally the women, some forty or fifty, who constantly attended him.
To make the most of the king's good-humour, while I wanted to screen myself from the blazing sun, I asked him if he would like to enjoy the pleasures of an umbrella; and before he had time to answer, held mine over him as we walked side by side.
The Wakungu were astonished, and the women prattled in great delight; whilst the king, hardly able to control himself, sidled and spoke to his flatterers as if he were doubly created monarch of all he surveyed.
He then, growing more familiar, said,
“Now, Bana, do tell me—did you not shoot that bird with something more than common ammunition? I am sure you did, now; there was magic in it.”
And all I said to the contrary would not convince him.
“But we will see again.”
“At buffaloes?” I said.
“No, the buffaloes are too far off now; we will wait to go after them until I have given you a hut close by.”
Presently, as some herons were flying overhead, he said,
“Now, shoot, shoot!”
and I brought a couple downright and left.
He stared, and everybody stared, believing me to be a magician, when the king said he would like to have pictures of the birds drawn and hung up in the palace;
“but let us go and shoot some more, for it is truly wonderful.”
Similar results followed, for the herons were continually whirling round, as they had their nests upon a neighbouring tree; and then the king ordered his pages to carry all the birds, save the vulture—which, for some reason, they did not touch—and show them to the queen.