They left the trail and Father Banyard nearly forgot all about his Christian charity and mission here in Kenya. A hard rain for most of April had turned everything to sludge. What was the point of traveling halfway around the world to a drier clime if you were going to be wet when you got there? Someone had told him Kenya was hot and dry: so far they’d been half-right. He’d arrived in March, 1861, in a humid drizzle, and it hadn’t stopped raining until yesterday. People reassured him the rains stopped by June and the interior was “African,â€? but Banyard had become edgy and skeptical since discovering Catholics, besides which the new sources were Mohammedans and he knew how far he could trust those.