Out of Africa

Out of Africa Summary | Chapters 1 - 4 Summary

The Ngong Farm Summary

Written under the nom de plume, Isak Dinesen, Out of Africa is Karen Blixen's account of her time in Kenya. The story opens as she describes the land and environment around the Ngong Hills, at the base of which stood her farm, a coffee plantation of six hundred acres. In all, she had six thousand acres of land, part of which was native forest and about a thousand or so acres were accounted for by squatters. On this land, they eked out an existence by subsistence farming - growing maize and keeping livestock such as chickens, cows and goats. In return, they worked for the owners of the land a number of days each year. It takes four of five years for the coffee-plants to bear and once they do, the beans are harvested, dried in coffee-dryers and then hulled, graded, sorted and packed into sacks for shipment to London, where they are auctioned off.

Twelve miles from the farm is Nairobi, the capital of the country. The Government House and big central offices were found here, such as those of the High Court, The Native Affairs Department and the Veterinary Department. Karen remarks that since her arrival in the country, Nairobi had, over the years, changed a great deal.

The Swahili town was not well regarded, it being a dirty, gaudy place; while the Somali town, farther away from Nairobi, was home to the eponymous nomadic people who were primarily cattle-dealers and traders. The Somalis were comprised of a number of disparate tribes, and Karen's servant, Farah, belonged to the tribe of Habr Yunis. At one time, Karen recalls, there had been a fight in the Somali town, between the tribes of Dulba Hantis and Habr Chaolo. Ten or twelve people were killed before the government finally intervened. The Indian merchants, who dominated the big native business quarter of the Bazaar, kept villas outside of town. From the beginning, Karen felt great affection for the Natives, though she admits never to truly be able to understand them.

A Native Child Summary

Karen acted as a doctor of sorts to the local people and most mornings, from nine to ten, she would tend to the sick and injured in her house. She, by her own admission, had known little more than what is taught by a first-aid course, but through a series of chance cures, her renown had spread and the people had come to depend on her. One day, while riding across the plain of her farm, she came across Kamante, the child of one of her squatters and seeing his body wracked with sores, told him to come see her the next day, which he did. Over the course of his treatment, she got to know him as an insular, stoic child, isolated from the world around him.

Because he had never before said anything to her of his own accord, Karen remembers when, in trying a new treatment - she had accidentally put on the poultice too hot - he had then addressed her as Msabu, an Indian word that the natives used when addressing white women. She had been glad because it showed that a bond had formed between them; he expected suffering from everything around him, but he did not expect it from her.

Unable to cure him of the disease, she decided eventually to take him to the hospital of the Scotch Mission. Kamante had not wanted to go, but she delivered him there herself. The Church of Scotland Mission was situated twelve miles to the north-west of Karen's farm, and the French Roman Catholic Mission ten miles to the east. Even though amongst themselves they were not friendly, Karen was on good terms with both.

Kamante remained at the Scotch Mission for three months, during which time Karen had seen him only once; she had been riding toward the Kikuyu railway station and for a time the road ran alongside the hospital grounds. Kamante, by then well enough to run, and seeing Karen, ran along the fence for as long as he could, though he said nothing to her. As she rode away, she waved to him. At first, he did not respond, but then, just once, his arm went straight up into the air.

On the morning of Easter Sunday, Kamante visited Karen in her house, bringing with him a letter from the hospital saying that he was much better and that they thought they had cured him for good. All natives, Karen noted, had a flair for the dramatic, and Kamante had carefully tied old bandages around his legs (up to the knee), to arrange a surprise for her. He then unwound the bandages to reveal his legs, smooth and unmarked except for slight grey scars. Then he told her, 'I am like you,' meaning that he was a Christian. He returned to his mother's hut, where he told her of everything that had happened and after that returned to Karen's house, where he remained and served her until she left the country some twelve years later.

Though she did not know for sure, she guessed him to be about nine years old. He was, she felt, different, what in white people would be called highly eccentric. In the old storehouse of corrugated iron, she had an evening school for the people of the farm. Kamante would accompany her here, but always he would stand a little away from the others. Alone, however, she had witnessed him, copying from memory, the letters and figures he had seen on the blackboard during those nights.

Kamante had begun in Karen's service as a dog-toto and later became a medical assistant to her. After that, he was sent to be a cook's boy, and when Esa, Karen's old cook was murdered, it was Kamante who became her chef. In addition, it is here that Karen believes him to be something of a genius, remarking that had he been born in Europe and had a good teacher, might have been famous.

She sent him to the Muthaiga Club in Nairobi and to the cooks of her friends to learn new dishes, and after a time her house became known throughout the colony for the food served at dinner parties. In this, she took great pleasure though Kamante did not care in the least for the praise of others. Among her guests were Charles Bulpett, a great traveler who had been all over the world; and the Prince of Wales himself. That had been the only time Kamante had been interested in the praise given to him.

The Savage in the Immigrant's House Summary

One year, the farm endured a great drought. They worked the fields in vain and in time the work slowed, and then stopped completely. The waterholes dried up and zebras would come in their hundreds searching for water. They had to be kept off the farm as much as possible, for the sake of the cattle. To keep her mind free of these troubles, Karen would, in the evenings, write stories - fairytales and romances. In time, she began to write in the mornings as well, putting off difficult decisions such as whether to plough and plant the maize field a second time or strip off the withering coffee berries to save the trees.

The natives and local herdboys were intrigued by her house, especially an ornate German cuckoo clock that hung in the dining room - an object of luxury in the African highlands. The children took great delight in watching the cuckoo appear every hour and Karen's houseboys laughed at them, for the young herdboys, who ranged in age from two to ten, believed the bird to be alive.

One night, Kamante came into the dining room and said that he did not believe Karen was capable of writing a book. Laying the Odyssey on the table, he commented how heavy and tightly bound it was, while her loose papers were scattered whenever the wind blew through the house. She tells him that the people in Europe will fix it together properly. He then asks her what is in books and she tells him a story and explains about books and her own writing.

Karen remembers the time when, at Christmas in the first year after Kamante had come to her house, she had wanted to take him with her to Mass. He wanted to go, but when he learnt that it was to the French mission she intended to go, he, having been indoctrinated against them at the Scottish Mission, said that he could not possibly attend. However, Karen promised Kamante her protection and so convinced him to come with her. It turned out to be the finest Christmas Mass ever held at the mission, and, once inside, Kamante forgot his scruples.

After Kamante had become a Christian, Karen reveals, he was then not afraid to touch a dead body - something the natives were terrified of doing. Over the course of the years on the farm, three people died: One was a young Kikuyu girl who had been run over by an oxcart, the other was a young Kikuyu killed while felling trees in the forest. The third and final death was that of an old blind Dane named Knudsen whom Karen had come across in Nairobi and who had asked her for a house on her land. He had ostensibly been one of the early pioneers in Africa, having owned a large fishing concern on Lake Victoria, which he lost during the war.

During the six months he spent on the farm, he and Karen spoke often in Danish, which she enjoyed greatly. By his own telling, he had been a great artist of fishing nets and on the farm made kibokos, whips fashioned from hippo hide. Knudsen, who referred to himself in the third-person (as 'Old Knudsen') had at one time confided in Karen a plan to lift from the bottom of Lake Naivasha, the hundred thousand tons of guano dropped by the swimming-birds. This, he said, would make him a millionaire and shame all his enemies.

He considered farm life to be dull and would often disappear, for days or weeks at a time, coming back ill and worn out from his escapades. Sometimes it was with an old friend who had arrived in town but usually Karen did not know what he did. When he died, he had been gone a fortnight, and most everyone on the farm had not even realized that he had returned. He had been walking on a path from his bungalow to the main house when he collapsed and died of a heart attack. She and Kamante discovered him and carried him back to his bungalow.

A Gazelle Summary

There came a time when, after the mill on the farm had burnt down, Karen had to drive to Nairobi on a regular basis in order to get the insurance settled and paid out. One morning, on just such a drive, Karen came across a group of Kikuyu children along the Ngong road. As she drove past, she saw they were holding a small bushbuck, a fawn they had ostensibly found and now wanted to sell to her. She ignored them and continued to town. Coming back in the evening, she once again encountered the group, but having had a less than successful day in town, ignored them once more and continued.

That night in bed, however, she awakes with a terrible feeling of dread. She wakes up all the houseboys and demands, under threat of dismissal, that they find the fawn. Early the next morning, Juma brings her the fawn, a female that they named Lulu, Swahili for 'pearl.' Kamante brought her up on a sucking-bottle and so, as she grew older she took to him and followed him about. In time, she obtained a commanding position in the house and all treated her with respect.

In Africa, the only breed of dog Karen had ever kept was that of a Scotch deerhound. The first, Dusk, had been given to her as a wedding present, but he had been killed by a zebra some years later. At the time of Lulu's arrival, she had two of his sons on the farm. They were excellent hunting dogs, but even they understood Lulu's position in the house; she pushed them away from the milk-bowl and their favorite places by the fire.

One evening, she did not return to the house and they looked, unsuccessfully, for her for a week. Karen believed her to be dead, killed by a leopard, but when speaking of her fear to Kamante he simply told her that she was married, that she lived in the forest with her mate and that some mornings she still came to eat the crushed maize he laid out for her at the back of the kitchen.

At her orders, Kamante fetched Karen a few days later, just before sunrise. Before she could see Lulu, Karen heard the bell that had been tied to a rein around her neck. When she appeared, Lulu hesitated slightly at the sight of Karen, but then walked to the back of the kitchen to feed as usual. Further back, at the outskirts of the forest, they saw the male bushbuck.

One day, on coming back from Nairobi, Kamante told Karen that Lulu had been to the farm with her Toto - her baby. Some days later, Karen saw the fawn for herself. Though she was not afraid of them, Lulu would not permit to be touched by anyone. She had lost her bell, too, and came and went in silence. It went this way for many years. Lulu returned, as did other bushbucks, though never a male. Hunters and naturalists took an interest in them, as did the game warden and a reporter, both of whom came out to see them.

The years in which Lulu visited the house, Karen recalls, were the happiest of her time in Africa. However, in her later years, she saw less and less of Lulu and her family and she wondered if Lulu ever thought of her as she did of Lulu. When she finally left Africa, she would, on occasion, receive letters from Kamante and the other houseboys. None of them could write, but they would dictate letters to the Indian or Native letter-writers outside the post offices. Kamante had, by then, been out of work for a long time, and in one of his letters wondered if Karen would ever return.