The Land of Footprints......................................................................................................................................1

Stewart Edward White.............................................................................................................................1

I. ON BOOKS OF ADVENTURE..........................................................................................................1

II. AFRICA..............................................................................................................................................4

III. THE CENTRAL PLATEAU...........................................................................................................10

IV. THE FIRST CAMP.........................................................................................................................11

V. MEMBA SASA................................................................................................................................13

VI. THE FIRST GAME CAMP............................................................................................................19

VII. ON THE MARCH ..........................................................................................................................23

VIII. THE RIVER JUNGLE ..................................................................................................................27

IX. THE FIRST LION...........................................................................................................................31

X. LIONS ...............................................................................................................................................37

XI. LIONS AGAIN ................................................................................................................................41

XII. MORE LIONS ................................................................................................................................43

XIII. ON THE MANAGING OF A SAFARI ........................................................................................49

XIV. A DAY ON THE ISIOLA............................................................................................................53

XV. THE LION DANCE .......................................................................................................................58

XVI. FUNDI..........................................................................................................................................59

XVII. NATIVES ....................................................................................................................................64

XVIII. IN THE JUNGLE (a) THE MARCH TO MERU .....................................................................67

XIX. THE TANA RIVER ......................................................................................................................82

XX. DIVERS ADVENTURES ALONG THE TANA ..........................................................................86

XXI. THE RHINOCEROS....................................................................................................................89

XXII. THE RHINOCEROS(continued)..............................................................................................94

XXIII. THE HIPPO POOL ....................................................................................................................96

XXIV. BUFFALO...............................................................................................................................100

XXV. THE BUFFALOcontinued ......................................................................................................103

XXVI. JUJA .........................................................................................................................................110

XXVII. A VISIT AT JUJA ..................................................................................................................112

XXVIII. A RESIDENCE AT JUJA .....................................................................................................115

XXIX. CHAPTER THE LAST ............................................................................................................120

APPENDIX I.......................................................................................................................................120

APPENDIX II......................................................................................................................................121

APPENDIX III .....................................................................................................................................122

APPENDIX IV. THE AMERICAN IN AFRICA ................................................................................123

APPENDIX V. THE AMERICAN IN AFRICA .................................................................................127

Books of sporting, travel, and adventure in countries little known to the average reader naturally fall in two

classesneither, with a very few exceptions, of great value. One class is perhaps the logical result of the

Of the first type is the book that is written to make the most of far travels, to extract from adventure the last

thrill, to impress the awestricken reader with a full sense of the danger and hardship the writer has undergone.

Thus, if the latter takes out quite an ordinary routine permit to go into certain districts, he makes the most of

travelling in "closed territory," implying that he has obtained an especial privilege, and has penetrated where

few have gone before him. As a matter of fact, the permit is issued merely that the authorities may keep track

of who is where. Anybody can get one. This class of writer tells of shooting beasts at customary ranges of

four and five hundred yards. I remember one in especial who airily and as a matter of fact killed all his

antelope at such ranges. Most men have shot occasional beasts at a quarter mile or so, but not airily nor as a

matter of fact: rather with thanksgiving and a certain amount of surprise. The gentleman of whom I speak

mentioned getting an eland at seven hundred and fifty yards. By chance I happened to mention this to a native

He laughed. "No," said he, "the old chap was immensely delighted. 'Eight hundred yards if it was an inch!' he

And it was! Three hundred and fifty yards is a very long shot. It is over four city blocksNew York size. But

if you talk often enough and glibly enough of "four and five hundred yards," it does not sound like much,

The same class of writer always gets all the thrills. He speaks of "blanched cheeks," of the "thrilling

suspense," and so on down the gamut of the shilling shocker. His stuff makes good reading; there is no doubt

of that. The spellbound public likes it, and to that extent it has fulfilled its mission. Also, the reader believes it

to the letterwhy should he not? Only there is this curious result: he carries away in his mind the impression

of unreality, of a country impossible to be understood and gauged and savoured by the ordinary human

mental equipment. It is interesting, just as are historical novels, or the copperriveted heroes of modern

fiction, but it has no real relation with human life. In the last analysis the inherent untruth of the thing forces

itself on him. He believes, but he does not apprehend; he acknowledges the fact, but he cannot grasp its

human quality. The affair is interesting, but it is more or less concocted of pasteboard for his amusement.

All this, you must understand, is probably not a deliberate attempt to deceive. It is merely the recrudescence

under the stimulus of a brandnew environment of the boyish desire to be a hero. When a man jumps back

into the Pleistocene he digs up some of his ancestors' cavequalities. Among these is the desire for personal

adornment. His modern development of taste precludes skewers in the ears and polished wire around the

neck; so he adorns himself in qualities instead. It is quite an engaging and diverting trait of character. The

attitude of mind it both presupposes and helps to bring about is too complicated for my brief analysis. In itself

it is no more blameworthy than the small boy's pretence at Indians in the back yard; and no more

In its results, however, we are more concerned. Probably each of us has his mental picture that passes as a

symbol rather than an idea of the different continents. This is usually a single picturea deep river, with

forest, hanging snaky vines, anacondas and monkeys for the east coast of South America, for example. It is

built up in youth by chance reading and chance pictures, and does as well as a pink place on the map to stand

for a part of the world concerning which we know nothing at all. As time goes on we extend, expand, and

modify this picture in the light of what knowledge we may acquire. So the reading of many books modifies

and expands our first crude notions of Equatorial Africa. And the result is, if we read enough of the sort I

describe above, we build the idea of an exciting, dangerous, extrahuman continent, visited by halfreal

people of the texture of the historicalfiction hero, who have strange and interesting adventures which we

This type of book is directly responsible for the second sort. The author of this is deadly afraid of being

thought to brag of his adventures. He feels constantly on him the amusedly critical eye of the oldtimer.

When he comes to describe the first time a rhino dashed in his direction, he remembers that old hunters, who

have been so charged hundreds of times, may read the book. Suddenly, in that light, the adventure becomes

pitifully unimportant. He sets down the fact that "we met a rhino that turned a bit nasty, but after a shot in the

shoulder decided to leave us alone." Throughout he keeps before his mind's eye the imaginary audience of

those who have done. He writes for them, to please them, to convince them that he is not "swelled head," nor

"cocky," nor "fancies himself," nor thinks he has done, been, or seen anything wonderful. It is a good, healthy

frame of mind to be in; but it, no more than the other type, can produce books that leave on the minds of the

As a matter of fact, the same trouble is at the bottom of both failures. The adventure writer, half

unconsciously perhaps, has been too much occupied playacting himself into halfforgotten boyhood

heroics. The more modest man, with even more selfconsciousness, has been thinking of how he is going to

appear in the eyes of the expert. Both have thought of themselves before their work. This aspect of the matter

If, then, one is to formulate an ideal toward which to write, he might express it exactly in terms of man and

environment. Those readers desiring sheer exploration can get it in any library: those in search of sheer

romantic adventure can purchase plenty of it at any bookstall. But the majority want something different

from either of these. They want, first of all, to know what the country is likenot in vague and grandiose

"word paintings," nor in strange and foreign sounding words and phrases, but in comparison with something

they know. What is it nearest likeArizona? Surrey? Upper New York? Canada? Mexico? Or is it totally

different from anything, as is the Grand Canyon? When you look out from your campany one camphow

far do you see, and what do you see?mountains in the distance, or a screen of vines or bamboo near hand, or

what? When you get up in the morning, what is the first thing to do? What does a rhino look like, where he

lives, and what did you do the first time one came at you? I don't want you to tell me as though I were either

an old hunter or an admiring audience, or as though you were afraid somebody might think you were making

too much of the matter. I want to know how you REALLY felt. Were you scared or nervous? or did you

become cool? Tell me frankly just how it was, so I can see the thing as happening to a common everyday

human being. Then, even at secondhand and at ten thousand miles distance, I can enjoy it actually, humanly,

even though vicariously, speculating a bit over my pipe as to how I would have liked it myself.

Obviously, to write such a book the author must at the same time sink his ego and exhibit frankly his

personality. The paradox in this is only apparent. He must forget either to strut or to blush with diffidence.

Neither audience should be forgotten, and neither should be exclusively addressed. Never should he lose sight

of the wholesome fact that old hunters are to read and to weigh; never should he for a moment slip into the

belief that he is justified in addressing the expert alone. His attitude should be that many men know more and

have done more than he, but that for one reason or another these men are not ready to transmit their

To set down the formulation of an ideal is one thing: to fulfil it is another. In the following pages I cannot

claim a fulfilment, but only an attempt. The foregoing dissertation must be considered not as a promise, but

as an explanation. No one knows better than I how limited my African experience is, both in time and extent,

bounded as it is by East Equatorial Africa and a year. Hundreds of men are better qualified than myself to

In looking back on the multitudinous pictures that the word Africa bids rise in my memory, four stand out

more distinctly than the others. Strangely enough, these are by no means all pictures of average countrythe

sort of thing one would describe as typical. Perhaps, in a way, they symbolize more the spirit of the country

to me, for certainly they represent but a small minority of its infinitely varied aspects. But since we must

make a start somewhere, and since for some reason these four crowd most insistently in the recollection it

Our camp was pitched under a single large mimosa tree near the edge of a deep and narrow ravine down

which a stream flowed. A semicircle of low mountains hemmed us in at the distance of several miles. The

other side of the semicircle was occupied by the upthrow of a low rise blocking off an horizon at its nearest

point but a few hundred yards away. Trees marked the course of the stream; low scattered bushes alternated

Nothing indicated that we were otherwise situated than in a very pleasant, rather wide grass valley in the

embrace of the mountains. Only a walk of a few hundred yards atop the upthrow of the low rise revealed the

fact that it was in reality the lip of a bench, and that beyond it the country fell away in sheer cliffs whose

ultimate drop was some fifteen hundred feet. One could sit atop and dangle his feet over unguessed abysses.

For a week we had been hunting for greater kudu. Each day Memba Sasa and I went in one direction, while

Mavrouki and Kongoni took another line. We looked carefully for signs, but found none fresher than the

month before. Plenty of other game made the country interesting; but we were after a shy and valuable prize,

so dared not shoot lesser things. At last, at the end of the week, Mavrouki came in with a tale of eight lions

seen in the low scrub across the stream. The kudu business was about finished, as far as this place went, so

We ate by lantern and at the first light were ready to start. But at that moment, across the slope of the rim a

few hundred yards away, appeared a small group of singsing. These are a beautiful big beast, with

widespread horns, proud and wonderful, like Landseer's stags, and I wanted one of them very much. So I took

the Springfield, and dropped behind the line of some bushes. The stalk was of the ordinary sort. One has to

remain behind cover, to keep down wind, to make no quick movements. Sometimes this takes considerable

manoeuvring; especially, as now, in the case of a small band fairly well scattered out for feeding. Often after

one has succeeded in placing them all safely behind the scattered cover, a straggler will step out into view.

Then the hunter must stop short, must slowly, oh very, very slowly, sink down out of sight; so slowly, in fact,

that he must not seem to move, but rather to melt imperceptibly away. Then he must take up his progress at a

lower plane of elevation. Perhaps he needs merely to stoop; or he may crawl on hands and knees; or he may

lie flat and hitch himself forward by his toes, pushing his gun ahead. If one of the beasts suddenly looks very

intently in his direction, he must freeze into no matter what uncomfortable position, and so remain an

indefinite time. Even a hotelbred child to whom you have rashly made advances stares no longer nor more

I had no great difficulty with this lot, but slipped up quite successfully to within one hundred and fifty yards.

There I raised my head behind a little bush to look. Three does grazed nearest me, their coats rough against

the chill of early morning. Up the slope were two more does and two funny, fuzzy babies. An immature buck

occupied the extreme left with three young ladies. But the big buck, the leader, the boss of the lot, I could not

see anywhere. Of course he must be about, and I craned my neck cautiously here and there trying to make

Suddenly, with one accord, all turned and began to trot rapidly away to the right, their heads high. In the

strange manner of animals, they had received telepathic alarm, and had instantly obeyed. Then beyond and

far to the right I at last saw the beast I had been looking for. The old villain had been watching me all the

The little herd in single file made their way rapidly along the face of the rise. They were headed in the

direction of the stream. Now, I happened to know that at this point the streamcanyon was bordered by sheer

cliffs. Therefore, the singsing must round the hill, and not cross the stream. By running to the top of the hill

I might catch a glimpse of them somewhere below. So I started on a jog trot, trying to hit the golden mean of

speed that would still leave me breath to shoot. This was an affair of some nicety in the tall grass. Just before

I reached the actual slope, however, I revised my schedule. The reason was supplied by a rhino that came

grunting to his feet about seventy yards away. He had not seen me, and he had not smelled me, but the

general disturbance of all these events had broken into his early morning nap. He looked to me like a person

who is cross before breakfast, so I ducked low and ran around him. The last I saw of him he was still standing

there, quite disgruntled, and evidently intending to write to the directors about it.

Arriving at the top, I looked eagerly down. The cliff fell away at an impossible angle, but sheer below ran out

a narrow bench fifty yards wide. Around the point of the hill to my rightwhere the herd had gonea game

trail dropped steeply to this bench. I arrived just in time to see the singsing, still trotting, file across the

bench and over its edge, on some other invisible game trail, to continue their descent of the cliff. The big

buck brought up the rear. At the very edge he came to a halt, and looked back, throwing his head up and his

nose out so that the heavy fur on his neck stood forward like a ruff. It was a last glimpse of him, so I held my

This happened to be one of those shots I spoke ofwhich the perpetrator accepts with a thankful and humble

spirit. The singsing leaped high in the air and plunged over the edge of the bench. I signalled the campin

plain sightto come and get the head and meat, and sat down to wait. And while waiting, I looked out on a

The morning was dull, with gray clouds through which at wide intervals streamed broad bands of misty light.

Below me the cliff fell away clear to a gorge in the depths of which flowed a river. Then the land began to

rise, broken, sharp, tumbled, terrible, tier after tier, gorge after gorge, one twisted range after the other, across

a breathlessly immeasurable distance. The prospect was full of shadows thrown by the tumult of lava. In

those shadows one imagined stranger abysses. Far down to the right a long narrow lake inaugurated a flatter,

alkaliwhitened country of low cliffs in long straight lines. Across the distances proper to a dozen horizons

the tumbled chaos heaved and fell. The eye sought rest at the bounds usual to its accustomed worldand went

on. There was no roundness to the earth, no grateful curve to drop this great fierce country beyond a healing

horizon out of sight. The immensity of primal space was in it, and the simplicity of primal thingsrough,

unfinished, full of mystery. There was no colour. The scene was done in slate gray, darkening to the opaque

where a tiny distant rain squall started; lightening in the nearer shadows to reveal halfguessed peaks;

brightening unexpectedly into broad short bands of misty gray light slanting from the gray heavens above to

the sombre tortured immensity beneath. It was such a thing as Gustave Dore might have imaged to serve as

I sat there for some time hugging my knees, waiting for the men to come. The tremendous landscape seemed

to have been willed to immobility. The rain squalls forty miles or more away did not appear to shift their

shadows; the rare slanting bands of light from the clouds were as constant as though they were falling

through cathedral windows. But nearer at hand other things were forward. The birds, thousands of them, were

doing their best to cheer things up. The roucoulements of doves rose from the bushes down the face of the

cliffs; the bell bird uttered his clear ringing note; the chime bird gave his celebrated imitation of a really

gentlemanly sixtyhorse power touring car hinting you out of the way with the mellowness of a chimed horn;

the bottle bird poured gallons of guggling essence of happiness from his silver jug. From the direction of

camp, evidently jumped by the boys, a steinbuck loped gracefully, pausing every few minutes to look back,

his dainty legs tense, his sensitive ears pointed toward the direction of disturbance.

And now, along the face of the cliff, I make out the flashing of much movement, half glimpsed through the

bushes. Soon a fine oldman baboon, his tail arched after the dandified fashion of the baboon aristocracy

stepped out, looked around, and bounded forward. Other old men followed him, and then the young men, and

a miscellaneous lot of halfgrown youngsters. The ladies brought up the rear, with the babies. These rode

their mothers' backs, clinging desperately while they leaped along, for all the world like the pathetic monkey

"jockeys" one sees strapped to the backs of big dogs in circuses. When they had approached to within fifty

yards, remarked "hullo!" to them. Instantly they all stopped. Those in front stood up on their hind legs; those

behind clambered to points of vantage on rocks and the tops of small bushes: They all took a good long look

at me. Then they told me what they thought about me personally, the fact of my being there, and the rude way

I had startled them. Their remarks were neither complimentary nor refined. The old men, in especial, got

quite profane, and screamed excited billingsgate. Finally they all stopped at once, dropped on all fours, and

loped away, their ridiculous long tails curved in a half arc. Then for the first time I noticed that, under cover

of the insults, the women and children had silently retired. Once more I was left to the familiar gentle bird

The second picture, also, was a view from a height, but of a totally different character. It was also, perhaps,

more typical of a greater part of East Equatorial Africa. Four of us were hunting lions with nativesboth wild

and tameand a scratch pack of dogs. More of that later. We had rummaged around all the morning without

any results; and now at noon had climbed to the top of a butte to eat lunch and look abroad.

Our butte ran up a gentle but accelerating slope to a peak of big rounded rocks and slabs sticking out boldly

from the soil of the hill. We made ourselves comfortable each after his fashion. The gunbearers leaned

against rocks and rolled cigarettes. The savages squatted on their heels, planting their spears ceremonially in

front of them. One of my friends lay on his back, resting a huge telescope over his crossed feet. With this he

purposed seeing any lion that moved within ten miles. None of the rest of us could ever make out anything

through the fearsome weapon. Therefore, relieved from responsibility by the presence of this Dreadnaught of

Mountains at our backs, of courseat some distance; then plains in long low swells like the easy rise and fall

of a tropical sea, wave after wave, and over the edge of the world beyond a distant horizon. Here and there on

this plain, single hills lay becalmed, like ships at sea; some peaked, some cliffed like buttes, some long and

low like the hulls of battleships. The brown plain flowed up to wash their bases, liquid as the sea itself, its

tides rising in the coves of the hills, and ebbing in the valleys between. Near at hand, in the middle distance,

far away, these fleets of the plain sailed, until at last hulldown over the horizon their topmasts disappeared.

Above them sailed too the phantom fleet of the clouds, shot with light, shining like silver, airy as racing

The sky in Africa is always very wide, greater than any other skies. Between horizon and horizon is more

space than any other world contains. It is as though the cup of heaven had been pressed a little flatter; so that

while the boundaries have widened, the zenith, with its flaming sun, has come nearer. And yet that is not a

constant quantity either. I have seen one edge of the sky raised straight up a few million miles, as though

some one had stuck poles under its corners, so that the western heaven did not curve cupwise over to the

horizon at all as it did everywhere else, but rather formed the proscenium of a gigantic stage. On this stage

they had piled great heaps of saffron yellow clouds, and struck shafts of yellow light, and filled the spaces

with the lurid portent of a stormwhile the twenty thousand foot mountains below, crouched whipped and

We sat atop our butte for an hour while H. looked through his 'scope. After the soft silent immensity of the

earth, running away to infinity, with its low waves, and its scattered fleet of hills, it was with difficulty that

we brought our gaze back to details and to things near at hand. Directly below us we could make out many

differenthued specks. Looking closely, we could see that those specks were game animals. They fed here

and there in bands of from ten to two hundred, with valleys and hills between. Within the radius of the eye

they moved, nowhere crowded in big herds, but everywhere present. A band of zebras grazed the side of one

of the earth waves, a group of gazelles walked on the skyline, a herd of kongoni rested in the hollow between.

On the next rise was a similar grouping; across the valley a new variation. As far as the eye could strain its

powers it could make out more and ever more beasts. I took up my field glasses, and brought them all to

within a sixth of the distance. After amusing myself for some time in watching them, I swept the glasses

farther on. Still the same animals grazing on the hills and in the hollows. I continued to look, and to look

again, until even the powerful prismatic glasses failed to show things big enough to distinguish. At the limit

of extreme vision I could still make out game, and yet more game. And as I took my glasses from my eyes,

and realized how small a portion of this great landsea I had been able to examine; as I looked away to the

shiphills hulldown over the horizon, and realized that over all that extent fed the Game; the evernew

wonder of Africa for the hundredth time filled my mindthe teeming fecundity of her bosom.

"Look here," said H. without removing his eye from the 'scope, "just beyond the edge of that shadow to the

left of the bushes in the dongaI've been watching them ten minutes, and I can't make 'em out yet. They're

To catch the third experience you must have journeyed with us across the "Thirst," as the natives

picturesquely name the waterless tract of two days and a half. Our very start had been delayed by a breakage

of some Dutchsounding essential to our ox wagon, caused by the confusion of a night attack by lions:

almost every night we had lain awake as long as we could to enjoy the deepbreathed grumbling or the

vibrating roars of these beasts. Now at last, having pushed through the dry country to the river in the great

plain, we were able to take breath from our mad hurry, and to give our attention to affairs beyond the limits of

Billy had never before wanted to shoot anything except a python. Why a python we could not quite fathom.

Personally, I think she had some vague idea of getting even for that Garden of Eden affair. But lately,

pythons proving scarcer than in that favoured locality, she had switched to a lion. She wanted, she said, to

give the skin to her sister. In vain we pointed out that a zebra hide was very decorative, that lions go to absurd

lengths in retaining possession of their own skins, and other equally convincing facts. It must be a lion or

There are several ways of getting lions, only one of which is at all likely to afford a steady pot shot to a very

small person trying to manipulate an oversize gun. That is to lay out a kill. The idea is to catch the lion at it

in the early morning before he has departed for home. The best kill is a zebra: first, because lions like zebra;

Accordingly, after we had pitched camp just within a fringe of mimosa trees and of redflowering aloes near

the river; had eaten lunch, smoked a pipe and issued necessary orders to the men, C. and I set about the

The plains stretched straight away from the river bank to some indefinite and unknown distance to the south.

A low range of mountains lay blue to the left; and a mantle of scrub thornbush closed the view to the right.

This did not imply that we could see far straight ahead, for the surface of the plain rose slowly to the top of a

swell about two miles away. Beyond it reared a single butte peak at four or five times that distance.

We stepped from the fringe of red aloes and squinted through the dancing heat shimmer. Near the limit of

vision showed a very faint glimmering whitish streak. A newcomer to Africa would not have looked at it

twice: nevertheless, it could be nothing but zebra. These gaudily marked beasts take queer aspects even on an

open plain. Most often they show pure white; sometimes a jet black; only when within a few hundred yards

does one distinguish the stripes. Almost always they are very easily made out. Only when very distant and in

heat shimmer, or in certain half lights of evening, does their socalled "protective colouration" seem to be in

working order, and even then they are always quite visible to the least expert hunter's scrutiny.

It is not difficult to kill a zebra, though sometimes it has to be done at a fairly long range. If all you want is

meat for the porters, the matter is simple enough. But when you require bait for a lion, that; is another affair

entirely. In the first place, you must be able to stalk within a hundred yards of your kill without being seen; in

the second place, you must provide two or three good lyingdown places for your prospective trophy within

fifteen yards of the carcassand no more than two or three; in the third place, you must judge the direction of

the probable morning wind, and must be able to approach from leeward. It is evidently pretty good luck to

find an accommodating zebra in just such a spot. It is a matter of still greater nicety to drop him absolutely in

his tracks. In a case of porters' meat it does not make any particular difference if he runs a hundred yards

before he dies. With lion bait even fifty yards makes all the difference in the world.

C. and I talked it over and resolved to press Scallywattamus into service. Scallywattamus is a small white

mule who is firmly convinced that each and every bush in Africa conceals a muleeating rhinoceros, and who

does not intend to be one of the number so eaten. But we had noticed that at times zebra would be so struck

with the strange sight of Scallywattamus carrying a man, that they would let us get quite close. C. was to ride

We set out through the heat shimmer, gradually rising as the plain slanted. Imperceptibly the camp and the

trees marking the river's course fell below us and into the heat haze. In the distance, close to the stream, we

made out a blurred, brownred solid mass which we knew for Masai cattle. Various little Thompson's

gazelles skipped away to the left waggling their tails vigorously and continuously as Nature long since

commanded "Tommies" to do. The heat haze steadied around the dim white line, so we could make out the

individual animals. There were plenty of them, dozing in the sun. A single tiny treelet broke the plain just at

the skyline of the rise. C. and I talked lowvoiced as we went along. We agreed that the tree was an excellent

landmark to come to, that the little rise afforded proper cover, and that in the morning the wind would in all

likelihood blow toward the river. There were perhaps twenty zebra near enough to the chosen spot. Any of

But the zebra did not give a hoot for Scallywattamus. At five hundred yards three or four of them awoke with

a start, stared at us a minute, and moved slowly away. They told all the zebra they happened upon that the

three idiots approaching were at once uninteresting and dangerous. At four hundred and fifty yards a half

dozen more made off at a trot. At three hundred and fifty yards the rest plunged away at a canterall but one.

He remained to stare, but his tail was up, and we knew he only stayed because he knew he could easily catch

The chance was very slim of delivering a knockout at that distance, but we badly needed meat, anyway, after

our march through the Thirst, so I tried him. We heard the wellknown plunk of the bullet, but down went his

head, up went his heels, and away went he. We watched him in vast disgust. He cavorted out into a bare open

space without cover of any sort, and then flopped over. I thought I caught a fleeting grin of delight on

Mavrouki's face; but he knew enough instantly to conceal his satisfaction over sure meat.

There were now no zebra anywhere near; but since nobody ever thinks of omitting any chances in Africa, I

sneaked up to the tree and took a perfunctory look. There stood another, providentially absentminded,

We got that one. Everybody was now happy. The boys raced over to the first kill, which soon took its

dismembered way toward camp. C. and I carefully organized our plan of campaign. We fixed in our

memories the exact location of each and every bush; we determined compass direction from camp, and any

other bearings likely to prove useful in finding so small a spot in the dark. Then we left a boy to keep carrion

We were out in the morning before even the first sign of dawn. Billy rode her little mule, C. and I went afoot,

Memba Sasa accompanied us because he could see whole lions where even C.'s trained eye could not make

out an ear, and the syce went along to take care of the mule. The heavens were ablaze with the thronging stars

of the tropics, so we found we could make out the skyline of the distant butte over the rise of the plains. The

earth itself was a pool of absolute blackness. We could not see where we were placing our feet, and we were

continually bringing up suddenly to walk around an unexpected aloe or thornbush. The night was quite still,

but every once in a while from the blackness came rustlings, scamperings, low calls, and once or twice the

startled barking of zebra very near at hand. The latter sounded as ridiculous as ever. It is one of the many

incongruities of African life that Nature should have given so large and so impressive a creature the petulant

yapping of an exasperated Pomeranian lap dog. At the end of three quarters of an hour of more or less

stumbling progress, we made out against the sky the twisted treelet that served as our landmark. Billy

dismounted, turned the mule over to the syce, and we crept slowly forward until within a guessed two or three

Nothing remained now but to wait for the daylight. It had already begun to show. Over behind the distant

mountains some one was kindling the fires, and the stars were flickering out. The splendid ferocity of the

African sunrise was at hand. Long bands of slate dark clouds lay close along the horizon, and behind them

glowed a heart of fire, as on a small scale the lamplight glows through a metalworked shade. On either side

the sky was pale greenblue, translucent and pure, deep as infinity itself. The earth was still black, and the

top of the rise near at hand was clear edged. On that edge, and by a strange chance accurately in the centre of

illumination, stood the uncouth massive form of a shaggy wildebeeste, his head raised, staring to the east. He

did not move; nothing of that fire and black world moved; only instant by instant it changed, swelling in

glory toward some climax until one expected at any moment a fanfare of trumpets, the burst of triumphant

Then very far down in the distance a lion roared. The wildebeeste, without moving, bellowed back an answer

or a defiance. Down in the hollow an ostrich boomed. Zebra barked, and several birds chirped strongly. The

tension was breaking not in the expected fanfare and burst of triumphal music, but in a manner instantly felt

to be more fitting to what was indeed a wonder, but a daily wonder for all that. At one and the same instant

the rim of the sun appeared and the wildebeeste, after the sudden habit of his kind, made up his mind to go.

He dropped his head and came thundering down past us at full speed. Straight to the west he headed, and so

disappeared. We could hear the beat of his hoofs dying into the distance. He had gone like a Warder of the

Morning whose task was finished. On the knifeedged skyline appeared the silhouette of slimlegged little

Tommies, flirting their rails, sniffing at the dewy grass, dainty, slender, confiding, the openday antithesis of

the tremendous and awesome lord of the darkness that had roared its way to its lair, and to the massive

Now is required a special quality of the imagination, not in myself, but in my readers, for it becomes

necessary for them to grasp the logic of a whole country in one mental effort. The difficulties to me are very

real. If I am to tell you it all in detail, your mind becomes confused to the point of mingling the ingredients of

the description. The resultant mental picture is a composite; it mixes localities wide apart; it comes out, like

the snakecreeperswampforest thing of grammarschool South America, an unreal and deceitful

impression. If, on the other hand, I try to give you a bird'seye viewsaying, here is plain, and there follows

upland, and yonder succeed mountains and hillsyou lose the sense of breadth and space and the toil of many

days. The feeling of onward outward extending distance is gone; and that impression so indispensable to

finite understanding"here am I, and what is beyond is to be measured by the length of my legs and the toil of

my days." You will not stop long enough on my plains to realize their physical extent nor their influence on

the human soul. If I mention them in a sentence, you dismiss them in a thought. And that is something the

plains themselves refuse to permit you to do. Yet sometimes one must become a guidebook, and bespeak his

The country, then, wherein we travelled begins at the sea. Along the coast stretches a low rolling country of

steaming tropics, grown with cocoanuts, bananas, mangoes, and populated by a happy, halfnaked race of the

Swahilis. Leaving the coast, the country rises through hills. These hills are at first fertile and green and

wooded. Later they turn into an almost unbroken plateau of thorn scrub, cruel, monotonous, almost

impenetrable. Fix thorn scrub in your mind, with rhino trails, and occasional openings for game, and a few

rivers flowing through palms and narrow jungle strips; fix it in your mind until your mind is filled with it,

until you are convinced that nothing else can exist in the world but more and more of the monotonous,

Then pass through this to the top of the hills inland, and journey over these hills to the highland plains.

Now sense and appreciate these wide seas of and the hills and ranges of mountains rising from them, and

their infinite diversity of countrytheir rivers marked by ribbons of jungle, their scatteredbush and their

thickbush areas, their grass expanses, and their great distances extending far over exceedingly wide

horizons. Realize how many weary hours you must travel to gain the nearest butte, what days of toil the view

from its top will disclose. Savour the fact that you can spend months in its veriest corner without exhausting

its possibilities. Then, and not until then, raise your eyes to the low rising transverse range that bands it to the

And on these ranges are the forests, the great bewildering forests. In what looks like a grove lying athwart a

little hill you can lose yourself for days. Here dwell millions of savages in an apparently untouched

wilderness. Here rises a snow mountain on the equator. Here are tangles and labyrinths, great bamboo forests

lost in folds of the mightiest hills. Here are the elephants. Here are the swinging vines, the jungle itself.

Yet finally it breaks. We come out on the edge of things and look down on a great gash in the earth. It is like

a sunken kingdom in itself, miles wide, with its own mountain ranges, its own rivers, its own landscape

features. Only on either side of it rise the escarpments which are the true level of the plateau. One can spend

two months in this valley, too, and in the countries south to which it leads. And on its farther side are the high

plateau plains again, or the forests, or the desert, or the great lakes that lie at the source of the Nile.

So now, perhaps, we are a little prepared to go ahead. The guidebook work is finished for good and all.

There is the steaming hot low coast belt, and the hot dry thorn desert belt, and the varied immense plains, and

the high mountain belt of the forests, and again the variegated wide country of the Rift Valley and the high

plateau. To attempt to tell you seriatim and in detail just what they are like is the task of an encyclopaedist.

Perhaps more indirectly you may be able to fill in the picture of the country, the people, and the beasts.

Our very first start into the new country was made when we piled out from the little train standing patiently

awaiting the good pleasure of our descent. That feature strikes me with ever new wonderthe accommodating

way trains of the Uganda Railway have of waiting for you. One day, at a little wayside station, C. and I were

idly exchanging remarks with the only white man in sight, killing time until the engine should whistle to a

resumption of the journey. The guard lingered about just out of earshot. At the end of five minutes C.

"When you have finished your conversation," said he politely, "we are all ready to go on."

On the morning in question there were a lot of us to disembarkone hundred and twentytwo, to be exactof

which four were white. We were not yet acquainted with our men, nor yet with our stores, nor with the

methods of our travel. The train went off and left us in the middle of a high plateau, with low ridges running

across it, and mountains in the distance. Men were squabbling earnestly for the most convenient loads to

carry, and as fast as they had gained undisputed possession, they marked the loads with some private sign of

their own. M'ganga, the headman, tall, fierce, bigframed and bony, clad in fez, a long black overcoat, blue

puttees and boots, stood stiff as a ramrod, extended a rigid right arm and rattled off orders in a high dynamic

voice. In his left hand he clasped a bulgy umbrella, the badge of his dignity and the symbol of his authority.

The four askaris, big men too, with masterful highcheekboned countenances, rushed here and there seeing

that the orders were carried out. Expostulations, laughter, the sound of quarrelling rose and fell. Never could

the combined volume of it all override the firecracker stream of M'ganga's eloquence.

We had nothing to do with it all, but stood a little dazed, staring at the novel scene. Our men were of many

tribes, each with its own cast of features, its own notions of what befitted man's performance of his duties

here below. They stuck together each in its clan. A fine free individualism of personal adornment

characterized them. Every man dressed for his own satisfaction solely. They hung all sorts of things in the

distended lobes of their ears. One had succeeded in inserting a fine big glittering tobacco tin. Others had

invented elaborate topiary designs in their hair, shaving their heads so as to leave strange tufts, patches,

crescents on the most unexpected places. Of the intricacy of these designs they seemed absurdly proud.

Various sorts of treasure trove hung from thema bunch of keys to which there were no locks, discarded

hunting knives, tips of antelope horns, discharged brass cartridges, a hundred and one valueless trifles

plucked proudly from the rubbish heap. They were all clothed. We had supplied each with a red blanket, a

blue jersey, and a water bottle. The blankets they were twisting most ingeniously into turbans. Beside these

they sported a great variety of garments. Shooting coats that had seen better days, a dozen shabby

overcoatsworn proudly through the hottest noonsraggety breeches and trousers made by some London

tailor, queer baggy homemades of the same persuasion, or quite simply the square of cotton cloth arranged

somewhat like a short tight skirt, or nothing at all as the man's taste ran. They were many of them amusing

enough; but somehow they did not look entirely farcical and ridiculous, like our negroes putting on airs. All

these things were worn with a simplicity of quiet confidence in their entire fitness. And beneath the red

Now Mahomet approached. Mahomet was my personal boy. He was a Somali from the Northwest coast,

dusky brown, with the regular clearcut features of a Greek marble god. His dress was of neat khaki, and he

looked down on savages; but, also, as with all the darkskinned races, up to his white master. Mahomet was

with me during all my African stay, and tested out nobly. As yet, of course, I did not know him.

That is Swahili. It means literally "food is ready." After one has hunted in Africa for a few months, it means

also "paradise is opened," "grief is at an end," "joy and thanksgiving are now in order," and similar affairs.

Those two words are never forgotten, and the veriest beginner in Swahili can recognize them without the

We followed Mahomet. Somehow, without orders, in all this confusion, the personal staff had been quietly

and efficiently busy. Drawn a little to one side stood a table with four chairs. The table was covered with a

white cloth, and was set with a beautiful white enamel service. We took our places. Behind each chair straight

as a ramrod stood a neat khakiclad boy. They brought us food, and presented it properly on the left side,

waiting like welltrained butlers. We might have been in a London restaurant. As three of us were

Americans, we felt a trifle dazed. The porters, having finished the distribution of their loads, squatted on their

And then, not two hundred yards away, four ostriches paced slowly across the track, paying not the slightest

attention to usour first real wild ostriches, scornful of oranges, careless of tourists, and rightful guardians of

their own snowy plumes. The passage of these four solemn birds seemed somehow to lend this strange

openair meal an exotic flavour. We were indeed in Africa; and the ostriches helped us to realize it.

We finished breakfast and arose from our chairs. Instantly a half dozen men sprang forward. Before our

amazed eyes the table service, the chairs and the table itself disappeared into neat packages. M'ganga arose to

The men sprang into activity. A struggle heaved the varicoloured multitudeand, lo! each man stood upright,

his load balanced on his head. At the same moment the syces led up our horses, mounted and headed across

the little plain whence had come the four ostriches. Our African journey had definitely begun.

Behind us, all abreast marched the four gunbearers; then the four syces; then the safari single file, an askari at

the head bearing proudly his ancient musket and our banner, other askaris flanking, M'ganga bringing up the

rear with his mighty umbrella and an unsuspected rhinoceroshide whip. The tent boys and the cook

scattered along the flank anywhere, as befitted the free and independent who had nothing to do with the

serious business of marching. A measured sound of drumming followed the beating of loads with a hundred

sticks; a wild, weird chanting burst from the ranks and died down again as one or another individual or group

felt moved to song. One lot had a formal chant and response. Their leader, in a high falsetto, said something

The country was a bully country, but somehow it did not look like Africa. That is to say, it looked altogether

too much like any amount of country at home. There was nothing strange and exotic about it. We crossed a

little plain, and up over a small hill, down into a shallow canyon that seemed to be wooded with live oaks,

across a grass valley or so, and around a grass hill. Then we went into camp at the edge of another grass

That is the disconcerting thing about a whole lot of this countryit is so much like home. Of course, there are

many wide districts exotic enough in all consciencethe jungle beds of the rivers, the bamboo forests, the

great tangled forests themselves, the banana groves down the aisles of which dance savages with shieldsbut

so very much of it is familiar. One needs only church spires and a redroofed village or so to imagine one's

self in Surrey. There is any amount of country like Arizona, and more like the uplands of Wyoming, and a lot

of it resembling the smaller landscapes of New England. The prospects of the whole world are there, so that

somewhere every wanderer can find the countryside of his own home repeated. And, by the same token, that

is exactly what makes a good deal of it so startling. When a man sees a file of speararmed savages, or a pair

of snorty old rhinos, step out into what has seemed practically his own back yard home, he is even more

We rode into the grass meadow and picked camp site. The men trailed in and dumped down their loads in a

At a signal they set to work. A dozen to each tent got them up in a jiffy. A long file brought firewood from

the stream bed. Others carried water, stones for the cook, a dozen other matters. The tent boys rescued our

boxes; they put together the cots and made the beds, even before the tents were raised from the ground.

Within an incredibly short space of time the three green tents were up and arranged, each with its bed made,

its mosquito bar hung, its personal box open, its folding washstand ready with towels and soap, the table and

chairs unlimbered. At a discreet distance flickered the cook campfire, and at a still discreeter distance the

I wish I could plunge you at once into the excitements of big game in Africa, but I cannot truthfully do so. To

be sure, we went hunting that afternoon, up over the low cliffs, and we saw several of a very lively little

animal known as the Chandler's reedbuck. This was not supposed to be a game country, and that was all we

did see. At these we shot several timesdisgracefully. In fact, for several days we could not shoot at all, at

any range, nor at anything. It was very sad, and very aggravating. Afterward we found that this is an

invariable experience to the newcomer. The light is new, the air is different, the sizes of the game are

deceiving. Nobody can at first hit anything. At the end of five days we suddenly began to shoot our normal

But in this afternoon tramp around the low cliffs after the elusive reedbuck, I for the first time became

His name is Memba Sasa. Memba Sasa are two Swahili words meaning "now a crocodile." Subsequently,

after I had learned to talk Swahili, I tried to find out what he was formerly, before he was a crocodile, but did

He was of the tribe of the Monumwezi, of medium height, compactly and sturdily built, carried himself very

erect, and moved with a concentrated and vigorous purposefulness. His countenance might be described as

pleasing but not handsome, of a dark chocolate brown, with the broad nose of the negro, but with a firm

mouth, high cheekbones, and a frowning intentness of brow that was very fine. When you talked to him he

looked you straight in the eye. His own eyes were shaded by long, soft, curling lashes behind which they

looked steadily and gravelysometimes fiercelyon the world. He rarely smilednever merely in

understanding or for politeness' sakeand never laughed unless there was something really amusing. Then he

chuckled from deep in his chest, the most contagious laughter you can imagine. Often we, at the other end of

the camp, have laughed in sympathy, just at the sound of that deep and hearty ho! ho! ho! of Memba Sasa.

Even at something genuinely amusing he never laughed much, nor without a very definite restraint. In fact,

about him was no slackness, no sprawling abandon of the native in relaxation; but always a taut efficiency

Naturally, behind such a fixed moral fibre must always be some moral idea. When a man lives up to a real,

not a pompous, dignity some ideal must inform it. Memba Sasa's ideal was that of the Hunter.

He was a gunbearer; and he considered that a good gunbearer stood quite a few notches above any other

human being, save always the white man, of course. And even among the latter Memba Sasa made great

differences. These differences he kept to himself, and treated all with equal respect. Nevertheless, they

existed, and Memba Sasa very well knew that fact. In the white world were two classes of masters: those who

hunted well, and those who were considered by them as their friends and equals. Why they should be so

considered Memba Sasa did not know, but he trusted the Hunter's judgment. These were the bwanas, or

masters. All the rest were merely mazungos, or, "white men." To their faces he called them bwana, but in his

Observe, I say those who hunted well. Memba Sasa, in his profession as gunbearer, had to accompany those

who hunted badly. In them he took no pride; from them he held aloof in spirit; but for them he did his

For to Mamba Sasa that profession was the proudest to which a black man could aspire. He prided himself on

mastering its every detail, in accomplishing its every duty minutely and exactly. The major virtues of a

gunbearer are not to be despised by anybody; for they comprise great physical courage, endurance, and

loyalty: the accomplishments of a gunbearer are worthy of a man's best faculties, for they include the ability

to see and track game, to take and prepare properly any sort of a trophy, field taxidermy, butchering game

meat, wood and plainscraft, the knowledge of how properly to care for firearms in all sorts of circumstances,

and a half hundred other like minutiae. Memba Sasa knew these things, and he performed them with the

At a certain time I shot an egret, and prepared to take the skin. Memba Sasa asked if he might watch me do it.

Two months later, having killed a really gaudy peacocklike member of the guinea fowl tribe, I handed it over

to him with instructions to take off the breast feathers before giving it to the cook. In a half hour he brought

me the complete skin, I examined it carefully, and found it to be well done in every respect. Now in skinning

a bird there are a number of delicate and unusual operations, such as stripping the primary quills from the

bone, cutting the ear cover, and the like. I had explained none of them; and yet Memba Sasa, unassisted, had

grasped their method from a single demonstration and had remembered them all two months later! C. had a

trick in making the second skin incision of a trophy head that had the effect of giving a better purchase to the

knife. Its exact description would be out of place here, but it actually consisted merely in inserting the point

of the knife two inches away from the place it is ordinarily inserted. One day we noticed that Memba Sasa

was making his incisions in that manner. I went to Africa fully determined to care for my own rifle. The

modern highvelocity gun needs rather especial treatment; mere wiping out will not do. I found that Memba

Sasa already knew all about boiling water, and the necessity for having it really boiling, about subsequent

metal sweating, and all the rest. After watching him at work I concluded, rightly, that he would do a lot better

To the new employer Memba Sasa maintained an attitude of strict professional loyalty. His personal respect

was upheld by the necessity of every man to do his job in the world. Memba Sasa did his. He cleaned the

rifles; he saw that everything was in order for the day's march; he was at my elbow all ways with more

cartridges and the spare rifle; he trailed and looked conscientiously. In his attitude was the stolidity of the

wooden Indian. No action of mine, no joke on the part of his companions, no circumstance in the varying

fortunes of the field gained from him the faintest flicker of either approval, disapproval, or interest. When we

returned to camp he deposited my water bottle and camera, seized the cleaning implements, and departed to

his own campfire. In the field he pointed out game that I did not see, and waited imperturbably the result of

As I before stated, the result of that shot for the first five days was very apt to be nil. This, at the time,

puzzled and grieved me a lot. Occasionally I looked at Memba Sasa to catch some sign of sympathy, disgust,

contempt, orrarelytriumph at a lucky shot. Nothing. He gently but firmly took away my rifle, reloaded it,

and handed it back; then waited respectfully for my next move. He knew no English, and I no Swahili.

But as time went on this attitude changed. I was armed with the new Springfield rifle, a weapon with 2,700

feet velocity, and with a marvellously flat trajectory. This commanding advantage, combined with a very

long familiarity with firearms, enabled me to do some fairish shooting, after the strangeness of these new

conditions had been mastered. Memba Sasa began to take a dawning interest in me as a possible source of

pride. We began to develop between us a means of communication. I set myself deliberately to learn his

language, and after he had cautiously determined that I really meant it, he took the greatest painsalways

In close quarters the gunbearer has the hardest job in the world. I have the most profound respect for his

absolute courage. Even to a man armed and privileged to shoot and defend himself, a charging lion is an

awesome thing, requiring a certain amount of coolness and resolution to face effectively. Think of the

gunbearer at his elbow, depending not on himself but on the courage and coolness of another. He cannot do

one solitary thing to defend himself. To bolt for the safety of a tree is to beg the question completely, to brand

himself as a shenzi forever; to fire a gun in any circumstances is to beg the question also, for the white man

must be able to depend absolutely on his second gun in an emergency. Those things are outside consideration,

even, of any respectable gunbearer. In addition, he must keep cool. He must see clearly in the thickest

excitement; must be ready unobtrusively to pass up the second gun in the position most convenient for

immediate use, to seize the other and to perform the finicky task of reloading correctly while some

rampageous beast is raising particular thunder a few yards away. All this in absolute dependence on the

ability of his bwana to deal with the situation. I can confess very truly that once or twice that little

unobtrusive touch of Memba Sasa crouched close to my elbow steadied me with the thought of how little

right Iwith a rifle in my handhad to be scared. And the best compliment I ever received I overheard by

chance. I had wounded a lion when out by myself, and had returned to camp for a heavier rifle and for

Memba Sasa to do the trailing. From my tent I overheard the following conversation between Memba Sasa

"The grass is high," said the cook. "Are you not afraid to go after a wounded lion with only one white man?"

It is a quality of courage that I must confess would be quite beyond meto depend entirely on the other

fellow, and not at all on myself. This courage is always remarkable to me, even in the case of the gunbearer

who knows all about the man whose heels he follows. But consider that of the gunbearer's first experience

with a stranger. The former has no idea of how the white man will act; whether he will get nervous, get

actually panicky, lose his shooting ability, and generally mess things up. Nevertheless, he follows his master

in, and he stands by. If the hunter fails, the gunbearer will probably die. To me it is rather fine: for he does it,

not from the personal affection and loyalty which will carry men far, but from a sheer sense of duty and pride

of caste. The quiet pride of the really good men, like Memba Sasa, is easy to understand.

And the records are full of stories of the white man who has not made good: of the coward who bolts, leaving

his black man to take the brunt of it, or who sticks but loses his head. Each new employer must be very

closely and interestedly scrutinized. In the light of subsequent experience, I can no longer wonder at Memba

As time went on, however, and we grew to know each other better, this attitude entirely changed. At first the

change consisted merely in dropping the disinterested pose as respects game. For it was a pose. Memba Sasa

was most keenly interested in game whenever it was an object of pursuit. It did not matter how common the

particular species might be: if we wanted it, Memba Sasa would look upon it with eager ferocity; and if we

did not want it, he paid no attention to it at all. When we started in the morning, or in the relaxation of our

return at night, I would mention casually a few of the things that might prove acceptable.

"Tomorrow we want kongoni for boys' meat, or zebra; and some meat for mastersTommy, impala, oribi,"

and Memba Sasa knew as well as I did what we needed to fill out our trophy collection. When he caught sight

of one of these animals his whole countenance changed. The lines of his face set, his lips drew back from his

teeth, his eyes fairly darted fire in the fixity of their gaze. He was like a fine pointer dog on birds, or like the

"M'palla!" he hissed; and then after a second, in a restrained fierce voice, "Naona? Do you see?"

If I did not see he pointed cautiously. His own eyes never left the beast. Rarely he stayed put while I made the

stalk. More often he glided like a snake at my heels. If the bullet hit, Memba Sasa always exhaled a grunt of

satisfaction"hah!"in which triumph and satisfaction mingled with a faint derision at the unfortunate beast.

In case of a trophy he squatted anxiously at the animal's head while I took my measurements, assisting very

intelligently with the tape line. When I had finished, he always looked up at me with wrinkled brow.

"Footie n'gapi?" he inquired. This means literally, "How many feet?", footie being his euphemistic invention

of a word for the tape. I would tell him how many "footie" and how many "inchie" the measurement proved

to be. From the depths of his wonderful memory he would dig up the measurements of another beast of the

same sort I had killed months back, but which he had remembered accurately from a single hearing.

The shooting of a beast he always detailed to his few cronies in camp: the other gunbearers, and one or two

from his own tribe. He always used the first person plural, "we" did so and so; and took an inordinate pride in

making out his bwana as being an altogether superior person to any of the other gunbearer's bwanas. Over a

miss he always looked sad; but with a dignified sadness as though we had met with undeserved misfortune

sent by malignant gods. If there were any possible alleviating explanation, Memba Sasa made the most of it,

provided our fiasco was witnessed. If we were alone in our disgrace, he buried the incident fathoms deep. He

took an inordinate pride in our using the minimum number of cartridges, and would explain to me in a loud

tone of voice that we had cartridges enough in the belt. When we had not cartridges enough, he would sneak

around after dark to get some more. At times he would even surreptitiously "lift" a few from B.'s gunbearer!

When in camp, with his "cazi" finished, Memba Sasa did fancy work! The picture of this powerful

halfsavage, his fierce brows bent over a tiny piece of linen, his strong fingers fussing with little stitches, will

always appeal to my sense of the incongruous. Through a piece of linen he punched holes with a porcupine

quill. Then he "buttonhole" stitched the holes, and embroidered patterns between them with fine white thread.

The result was an openwork pattern heavily encrusted with beautiful fine embroidery. It was most astounding

stuff, such as you would expect from a French convent, perhaps, but never from an African savage. He did a

circular piece and a long narrow piece. They took him three months to finish, and then he sewed them

together to form a skull cap. Billy, entranced with the lacelike delicacy of the work, promptly captured it;

By this time he had identified himself with my fortunes. We had become a firm whose business it was to

carry out the affairs of a single personalityme. Memba Sasa, among other things, undertook the dignity.

When I walked through a crowd, Memba Sasa zealously kicked everybody out of my royal path. When I

started to issue a command, Memba Sasa finished it and amplified it and put a snapper on it. When I came

into camp, Memba Sasa saw to it personally that my tent went up promptly and properly, although that was

really not part of his "cazi" at all. And when somewhere beyond my ken some miserable boy had committed

Perhaps I happened to be sitting in my folding chair idly smoking a pipe and reading a book. Across the open

places of the camp would stride Memba Sasa, very erect, very rigid, moving in short indignant jerks, his eye

flashing fire. Behind him would sneak a very hangdog boy. Memba Sasa marched straight up to me, faced

"Just look at THAT!" his attitude seemed to say, "Could you believe such human depravity possible? And

In a few restrained words he put the case before me, always briefly, always with a scornful dignity. This

We will suppose the case fairly serious. I listened to the man's story, if necessary called a few witnesses,

delivered judgment. All the while Memba Sasa stood at rigid attention, fairly bristling virtue, like the good

dog standing by at the punishment of the bad dogs. And in his attitude was a subtle triumph, as one would

say: "You see! Fool with my bwana, will you! Just let anybody try to get funny with US!" Judgment

pronouncedwe have supposed the case serious, you rememberMemba Sasa himself applied the lash. I think

he really enjoyed that; but it was a restrained joy. The whip descended deliberately, without excitement.

The man's devotion in unusual circumstances was beyond praise. Danger or excitement incite a sort of loyalty

One day we marched over a country of thornscrub desert. Since two days we had been cut loose from water,

and had been depending on a small amount carried in zinc drums. Now our only reasons for faring were a

conical hill, over the horizon, and the knowledge of a river somewhere beyond. How far beyond, or in what

direction, we did not know. We had thirty men with us, a more or less ragtag lot, picked up anyhow in the

bazaars. They were soft, illdisciplined and uncertain. For five or six hours they marched well enough. Then

the sun began to get very hot, and some of them began to straggle. They had, of course, no intention of

deserting, for their only hope of surviving lay in staying with us; but their loads had become heavy, and they

took too many rests. We put a good man behind, but without much avail. In open country a safari can be

permitted to straggle over miles, for always it can keep in touch by sight; but in this thornscrub desert, that

looks all alike, a man fifty yards out of sight is fifty yards lost. We would march fifteen or twenty minutes,

then sit down to wait until the rearmost men had straggled in, perhaps a half hour later. And we did not dare

move on until the tale of our thirty was complete. At this rate progress was very slow, and as the fierce

equatorial sun increased in strength, became always slower still. The situation became alarming. We were

quite out of water, and we had no idea where water was to be found. To complicate matters, the thornbrush

My single companion and I consulted. It was agreed that I was to push on as rapidly as possible to locate the

water, while he was to try to hold the caravan together. Accordingly, Memba Sasa and I marched ahead. We

tried to leave a trail to follow; and we hoped fervently that our guess as to the stream's course would prove to

be a good one. At the end of two hours and a half we found the watera beautiful jungleshaded streamand

filled ourselves up therewith. Our duty was accomplished, for we had left a trail to be followed. Nevertheless,

I felt I should like to take back our full canteens to relieve the worst cases. Memba Sasa would not hear of it,

At the end of two hours more camp was made, after a fashion; but still four men had failed to come in. We

built a smudge in the hope of guiding them; and gave them up. If they had followed our trail, they should

have been in long ago; if they had missed that trail, heaven knows where they were, or where we should go to

find them. Dusk was falling, and, to tell the truth, we were both very much done up by a long day at 115

degrees in the shade under an equatorial sun. The missing men would climb trees away from the beasts, and

we would organize a search next day. As we debated these things, to us came Memba Sasa.

This was entirely voluntary on his part. He, as well as we, had had a hard day, and he had made a double

journey for part of it. We gave him Winchi and he departed. Sometime after midnight he returned with the

Perhaps a dozen times all told he volunteered for these special services; once in particular, after a

fourteenhour day, he set off at nine o'clock at night in a soaking rainstorm, wandered until two o'clock, and

returned unsuccessful, to rouse me and report gravely that he could not find them. For these services he

neither received nor expected special reward. And catch him doing anything outside his strict "cazi" except

We were always very ceremonious and dignified in our relations on such occasions. Memba Sasa would

Then I would give him his reward. It was either the word "assanti," or the two words "assanti sana,"

according to the difficulty and importance of the task accomplished. They mean simply "thank you" and

Once or twice, after a particularly long and difficult month or so, when Memba Sasa has been almost literally

my alter ego, I have called him up for special praise. "I am very pleased with you, Memba Sasa," said I. "You

He accepted this with dignity, without deprecation, and without the idiocy of spoken gratitude. He agreed

On our ultimate success in a difficult enterprise Memba Sasa set great store; and his delight in ultimate

success was apparently quite apart from personal considerations. We had been hunting greater kudu for five

weeks before we finally landed one. The greater kudu is, with the bongo, easily the prize beast in East Africa,

and very few are shot. By a piece of bad luck, for him, I had sent Memba Sasa out in a different direction to

look for signs the afternoon we finally got one. The kill was made just at dusk. C. and I, with Mavrouki, built

a fire and stayed, while Kongoni went to camp after men. There he broke the news to Memba Sasa that the

great prize had been captured, and he absent. Memba Sasa was hugely delighted, nor did he in any way show

what must have been a great disappointment to him. After repeating the news triumphantly to every one in

camp, he came out to where we were waiting, arrived quite out of breath, and grabbed me by the hand in

Memba Sasa went in not at all for personal ornamentation, any more than he allowed his dignity to be broken

by anything resembling emotionalism. No tattoo marks, no ear ornaments, no rings nor bracelets. He never

even picked up an ostrich feather for his head. On the latter he sometimes wore an old felt hat; sometimes,

more picturesquely, an orangecoloured fillet. Khaki shirt, khaki "shorts," blue puttees, besides his knife and

my own accoutrements: that was all. In town he was all white clad, a long fine linen robe reaching to his feet;

That will do for a preliminary sketch. If you follow these pages, you will hear more of him; he is worth it.

In the review of "first" impressions with which we are concerned, we must now skip a week or ten days to

stop at what is known in our diaries as the First Ford of the Guaso Nyero River.

These ten days were not uneventful. We had crossed the wide and undulating plains, had paused at some tall

beautiful falls plunging several hundred feet into the mysteriousness of a dense forest on which we looked

down. There we had enjoyed some duck, goose and snipe shooting; had made the acquaintance of a few of

the Masai, and had looked with awe on our first hippo tracks in the mud beside a tiny ditchlike stream. Here

and there were small game herds. In the light of later experience we now realize that these were nothing at

all; but at the time the sight of fullgrown wild animals out in plain sight was quite wonderful. At the close of

the day's march we always wandered out with our rifles to see what we could find. Everything was new to us,

and we had our men to feed. Our shooting gradually improved until we had overcome the difficulties peculiar

Now, at the end of a hard day through scrub, over rolling bold hills, and down a scrub brush slope, we had

At this point, above the junction of its principal tributary rivers, it was a stream about sixty or seventy feet

wide, flowing swift between high banks. A few trees marked its course, but nothing like a jungle. The ford

was in swift water just above a deep still pool suspected of crocodiles. We found the water about waist deep,

stretched a rope across, and forcibly persuaded our eager boys that one at a time was about what the situation

required. On the other side we made camp on an open flat. Having marched so far continuously, we resolved

to settle down for a while. The men had been without sufficient meat; and we desired very much to look over

Perhaps a word might not come amiss as to the killing of game. The case is here quite different from the

condition of affairs at home. Here animal life is most extraordinarily abundant; it furnishes the main food

supply to the traveller; and at present is probably increasing slightly, certainly holding its own. Whatever toll

the sportsman or traveller take is as nothing compared to what he might take if he were an unscrupulous game

hog. If his cartridges and his shoulder held out, he could easily kill a hundred animals a day instead of the few

he requires. In that sense, then, no man slaughters indiscriminately. During the course of a year he probably

shoots from two hundred to two hundred and fifty beasts, provided he is travelling with an ordinary sized

caravan. This, the experts say, is about the annual toll of one lion. If the traveller gets his lion, he plays even

with the fauna of the country; if he gets two or more lions, he has something to his credit. This probably

explains why the game is still so remarkably abundant near the road and on the very outskirts of the town.

We were now much in need of a fair quantity of meat, both for immediate consumption of our safari, and to

make biltong or jerky. Later, in like circumstances, we should have sallied forth in a businesslike fashion,

dropped the requisite number of zebra and hartebeeste as near camp as possible, and called it a job. Now,

however, being new to the game, we much desired good trophies in variety. Therefore, we scoured the

country far and wide for desirable heads; and the meat waited upon the acquisition of the trophy.

This, then, might be called our first Shooting Camp. Heretofore we had travelled every day. Now the boys

settled down to what the native porter considers the height of bliss: a permanent camp with plenty to eat.

Each morning we were off before daylight, riding our horses, and followed by the gunbearers, the syces, and

fifteen or twenty porters. The country rose from the river in a long gentle slope grown with low brush and

scattered candlestick euphorbias. This slope ended in a scattered range of low rocky buttes. Through any one

of the various openings between them, we rode to find ourselves on the borders of an undulating grass

country of low rounded hills with wide valleys winding between them. In these valleys and on these hills was

Daylight of the day I would tell about found us just at the edge of the little buttes. Down one of the slopes the

growing half light revealed two oryx feeding, magnificent big creatures, with straight rapier horns three feet

in length. These were most exciting and desirable, so off my horse I got and began to sneak up on them

through the low tufts of grass. They fed quite calmly. I congratulated myself, and slipped nearer. Without

even looking in my direction, they trotted away. Somewhat chagrined, I returned to my companions, and we

Then across a milewide valley we saw two dark objects in the tall grass; and almost immediately identified

these as rhinoceroses, the first we had seen. They stood there side by side, gazing off into space, doing

nothing in a busy morning world. After staring at them through our glasses for some time, we organized a

raid. At the bottom of the valley we left the horses and porters; lined up, each with his gunbearer at his elbow;

and advanced on the enemy. B. was to have the shot According to all the books we should have been able,

provided we were downwind and made no noise, to have approached within fifty or sixty yards undiscovered.

However, at a little over a hundred yards they both turned tail and departed at a swift trot, their heads held

well up and their tails sticking up straight and stiff in the most ridiculous fashion. No good shooting at them

in such circumstances, so we watched them go, still keeping up their slashing trot, growing smaller and

We set ourselves methodically to following them. It took us over an hour of steady plodding before we again

came in sight of them. They were this time nearer the top of a hill, and we saw instantly that the curve of the

slope was such that we could approach within fifty yards before coming in sight at all. Therefore, once more

Sensations? Distinctly nervous, decidedly alert, and somewhat selfcongratulatory that I was not more

scared. No man can predicate how efficient he is going to be in the presence of really dangerous game. Only

the actual trial will show. This is not a question of courage at all, but of purely involuntary reaction of the

nerves. Very few men are physical cowards. They will and do face anything. But a great many men are

rendered inefficient by the way their nervous systems act under stress. It is not a matter for control by will

power in the slightest degree. So the big game hunter must determine by actual trial whether it so happens

that the great excitement of danger renders his hand shaky or steady. The excitement in either case is the

same. No man is ever "cool" in the sense that personal danger is of the same kind of indifference to him as

clambering aboard a street car. He must always be lifted above himself, must enter an extra normal condition

to meet extra normal circumstances. He can always control his conduct; but he can by no means always

determine the way the inevitable excitement will affect his coordinations. And unfortunately, in the final

result it does not matter how brave a man is, but how closely he can hold. If he finds that his nervous

excitement renders him unsteady, he has no business ever to tackle dangerous game alone. If, on the other

hand, he discovers that IDENTICALLY THE SAME nervous excitement happens to steady his front sight to

rocklike rigiditya rigidity he could not possibly attain in normal conditionsthen he will probably keep out

To amplify this further by a specific instance: I hunted for a short time in Africa with a man who was always

eager for exciting encounters, whose pluck was admirable in every way, but whose nervous reaction so

manifested itself that he was utterly unable to do even decent shooting at any range. Furthermore, his very

judgment and power of observation were so obscured that he could not remember afterward with any

accuracy what had happenedwhich way the beast was pointing, how many there were of them, in which

direction they went, how many shots were fired, in short all the smaller details of the affair. He thought he

remembered. After the show was over it was quite amusing to get his version of the incident. It was almost

always so wide of the fact as to be little recognizable. And, mind you, he was perfectly sincere in his belief,

and absolutely courageous. Only he was quite unfitted by physical makeup for a big game hunter; and I was

Well, we clambered up that slope with a fine compound of tension, expectation, and latent uneasiness as to

just what was going to happen, anyway. Finally, we raised the backs of the beasts, stooped, sneaked a little

nearer, and finally at a signal stood upright perhaps forty yards from the brutes.

For the first time I experienced a sensation I was destined many times to repeatthat of the sheer size of the

animals. Menagerie rhinoceroses had been of the smaller Indian variety; and in any case most menagerie

beasts are more or less stunted. These two, facing us, their little eyes blinking, looked like fullgrown

ironclads on dry land. The moment we stood erect B. fired at the larger of the two. Instantly they turned and

were off at a tearing run. I opened fire, and B. let loose his second barrel. At about two hundred and fifty

yards the big rhinoceros suddenly fell on his side, while the other continued his flight. It was all oververy

The boys were delighted, for here was meat in plenty for everybody. We measured the beast, photographed

him, marvelled at his immense size, and turned him over to the gunbearers for treatment. In half an hour or so

a long string of porters headed across the hills in the direction of camp, many miles distant, each carrying his

load either of meat, or the trophies. Rhinoceros hide, properly treated, becomes as transparent as amber, and

so from it can be made many very beautiful souvenirs, such as bowls, trays, paper knives, table tops, whips,

canes, and the like. And, of course, the feet of one's first rhino are always saved for cigar boxes or inkstands.

Already we had an admiring and impatient audience. From all directions came the carrion birds. They circled

far up in the heavens; they shot downward like plummets from a great height with an inspiring roar of wings;

they stood thick in a solemn circle all around the scene of the kill; they rose with a heavy flapping when we

moved in their direction. Skulking forms flashed in the grass, and occasionally the pointed ears of a jackal

It was by now nearly noon. The sun shone clear and hot; the heat shimmer rose in clouds from the brown

surface of the hills. In all directions we could make out small gameherds resting motionless in the heat of the

day, the mirage throwing them into fantastic shapes. While the final disposition was being made of the

defunct rhinoceros I wandered over the edge of the hill to see what I could see, and fairly blundered on a herd

of oryx at about a hundred and fifty yards range. They looked at me a startled instant, then leaped away to the

left at a tremendous speed. By a lucky shot, I bowled one over. He was a beautiful beast, with his black and

white face and his straight rapierlike horns nearly three feet long, and I was most pleased to get him. Memba

Then through a gap in the hills far to the left we saw a little black speck moving rapidly in our direction. At

the end of a minute we could make it out as the second rhinoceros. He had run heaven knows how many

miles away, and now he was returning; whether with some idea of rejoining his companion or from sheer

chance, I do not know. At any rate, here he was, still ploughing along at his swinging trot. His course led him

along a side hill about four hundred yards from where the oryx lay. When he was directly opposite I took the

Springfield and fired, not at him, but at a spot five or six feet in front of his nose. The bullet threw up a

column of dust. Rhino brought up short with astonishment, wheeled to the left, and made off at a gallop. I

dropped another bullet in front of him. Again he stopped, changed direction, and made off. For the third time

I hit the ground in front of him. Then he got angry, put his head down and charged the spot.

Five more shots I expended on the amusement of that rhinoceros; and at the last had run furiously charging

back and forth in a twentyyard space, very angry at the little puffing, screeching bullets, but quite unable to

catch one. Then he made up his mind and departed the way he had come, finally disappearing as a little

rapidly moving black speck through the gap in the hills where we had first caught sight of him.

We finished caring for the oryx, and returned to camp. To our surprise we found we were at least seven or

In this fashion days passed very quickly. The early dewy start in the cool of the morning, the gradual grateful

warming up of sunrise, and immediately after, the rest during the midday heats under a shady tree, the long

trek back to camp at sunset, the hot bath after the toilsome dayall these were very pleasant. Then the swift

falling night, and the gleam of many tiny fires springing up out of the darkness; with each its sticks full of

meat roasting, and its little circle of men, their skins gleaming in the light. As we sat smoking, we would

become aware that M'ganga, the headman, was standing silent awaiting orders. Some one would happen to

see the white of his eyes, or perhaps he might smile so that his teeth would become visible. Otherwise he

might stand there an hour, and no one the wiser, for he was respectfully silent, and exactly the colour of the

We would indicate to him our plans for the morrow, and he would disappear. Then at a distance of twenty or

thirty feet from the front of our tents a tiny tongue of flame would lick up. Dark figures could be seen

manipulating wood. A blazing fire sprang up, against which we could see the motionless and picturesque

figure of Saasita (Six o'Clock), the askari of the first night watch, leaning on his musket. He was a most

picturesque figure, for his fancy ran to original headdresses, and at the moment he affected a wonderful

At this sign that the night had begun, we turned in. A few hyenas moaned, a few jackals barked: otherwise the

first part of the night was silent, for the hunters were at their silent business, and the hunted were "layin' low

Day after day we rode out, exploring the country in different directions. The great uncertainty as to what of

interest we would find filled the hours with charm. Sometimes we clambered about the cliffs of the buttes

trying to find klipspringers; again we ran miles pursuing the gigantic eland. I in turn got my first rhinoceros,

with no more danger than had attended the killing of B.'s. On this occasion, however, I had my first

experience of the lightning skill of the firstclass gunbearer. Having fired both barrels, and staggered the

beast, I threw open the breech and withdrew the empty cartridges, intending, of course, as my next move to

fish two more out of my belt. The empty shells were hardly away from the chambers, however, when a long

brown arm shot over my right shoulder and popped two fresh cartridges in the breech. So astonished was I at

this unexpected apparition, that for a second or so I actually forgot to close the gun.

After leaving the First Game Camp, we travelled many hours and miles over rolling hills piling ever higher

and higher until they broke through a pass to illimitable plains. These plains were mantled with the dense

scrub, looking from a distance and from above like the nap of soft green velvet. Here and there this scrub

broke in round or oval patches of grass plain. Great mountain ranges peered over the edge of a horizon.

Lesser mountain peaks of fantastic shapessheer Yosemite cliffs, single buttes, castleshad ventured singly

from behind that same horizon barricade. The course of a river was marked by a meandering line of green

It took us two days to get to that river. Our intermediate camp was halfway down the pass. We ousted a

hundred indignant strawcoloured monkeys and twice as many baboons from the tiny flat above the water

hole. They bobbed away cursing over their shoulders at us. Next day we debouched on the plains. They were

rolling, densely grown, covered with volcanic stones, swarming with game of various sorts. The men

marched well. They were happy, for they had had a week of meat; and each carried a light lunch of sundried

biltong or jerky. Some mistaken individuals had attempted to bring along some "fresh" meat. We found it

advisable to pass to windward of these; but they themselves did not seem to mind.

It became very hot; for we were now descending to the lower elevations. The marching through long grass

and over volcanic stones was not easy. Shortly we came out on stumbly hills, mostly rock, very dry, grown

with cactus and discouraged desiccated thorn scrub. Here the sun reflected powerfully and the bearers began

No more marvellous contrast could have been devised. From the blasted barren scrub country we plunged

into the lush jungle. It was not a very wide jungle, but it was sufficient. The trees were large and variegated,

reaching to a high and spacious upper story above the ground tangle. From the massive limbs hung vines,

festooned and looped like great serpents. Through this upper corridor flitted birds of bright hue or striking

variegation. We did not know many of them by name, nor did we desire to; but were content with the

impression of vivid flashing movement and colour. Various monkeys swung, leaped and galloped slowly

away before our advance; pausing to look back at us curiously, the ruffs of fur standing out all around their

little black faces. The lower half of the forest jungle, however, had no spaciousness at all, but a certain

breathless intimacy. Great leaved plants as tall as little trees, and trees as small as big plants, bound together

by vines, made up the "deep impenetrable jungle" of our childhood imagining. Here were rustlings, sudden

scurryings, halfcaught glimpses, once or twice a crash as some greater animal made off. Here and there

through the thicket wandered well beaten trails, wide, but low, so that to follow them one would have to bend

double. These were the paths of rhinoceroses. The air smelt warm and moist and earthy, like the odour of a

We skirted this jungle until it gave way to let the plain down to the river. Then, in an open grove of acacias,

These acacia trees were very noble big chaps, with many branches and a thick shade. In their season they are

wonderfully blossomed with white, with yellow, sometimes even with vivid red flowers. Beneath them was

Before us the sodded bank rounded off ten feet the river itself. At this point far up in its youth it was a

friendly river. Its noble width ran over shallows of yellow sand or of small pebbles. Save for unexpected deep

holes one could wade across it anywhere. Yet it was very wide, with still reaches of water, with islands of

gigantic papyrus, with sand bars dividing the current, and with always the vista for a greater or lesser distance

down through the jungle along its banks. From our canvas chairs we could look through on one side to the

Yes, at this point in its youth it was indeed a friendly river in every sense of the word. There are three

reasons, ordinarily, why one cannot bathe in the African rivers. In the first place, they are nearly all

disagreeably muddy; in the second place, cold water in a tropical climate causes horrible congestions; in the

third place they swarm with crocodiles and hippos. But this river was as yet unpolluted by the alluvial soil of

the lower countries; the sun on its shallows had warmed its waters almost to blood heat; and the beasts found

no congenial haunts in these clear shoals. Almost before our tents were up the men were splashing. And

always my mental image of that river's beautiful expanse must include round black heads floating like gourds

Our tents stood all in a row facing the stream, the great trees at their backs. Down in the grove the men had

pitched their little white shelters. Happily they settled down to ease. Settling down to ease, in the case of the

African porter, consists in discarding as many clothes as possible. While on the march he wears everything he

owns; whether from pride or a desire to simplify transportation I am unable to say. He is supplied by his

employer with a blanket and jersey. As supplementals he can generally produce a half dozen white man's

illassorted garments: an old shooting coat, a ragged pair of khaki breeches, a kitchen tablecloth for a skirt,

or something of the sort. If he can raise an overcoat he is happy, especially if it happen to be a long, thick

WINTER overcoat. The possessor of such a garment will wear it conscientiously throughout the longest

journey and during the hottest noons. But when he relaxes in camp, he puts away all these prideful

possessions and turns out in the savage simplicity of his red blanket. Draped negligently, sometimes very

negligently, in what may be termed semitoga fashion, he stalks about or squats before his little fire in all the

glory of a regained savagery. The contrast of the red with his red bronze or black skin, the freedom and grace

of his movements, the upright carriage of his fine figure, and the flickering savagery playing in his eyes are

Our men occupied their leisure variously and happily. A great deal of time they spent before their tiny fires

roasting meat and talking. This talk was almost invariably of specific personal experiences. They bathed

frequently and with pleasure. They slept. Between times they fashioned ingenious affairs of ornament or use:

bows and arrows, throwing clubs, snuffboxes of the tips of antelope horns, bound prettily with bright wire,

wooden swords beautifully carved in exact imitation of the white man's service weapon, and a hundred other

such affairs. At this particular time also they were much occupied in making sandals against the thorns. These

were flat soles of rawhide, the edges pounded to make them curl up a trifle over the foot, fastened by thongs;

very ingenious, and very useful. To their task they brought song. The labour of Africa is done to song; weird

minor chanting starting high in the falsetto to trickle unevenly down to the lower registers, or where the

matter is one of serious effort, an antiphony of solo and chorus. From all parts of the camp come these softly

modulated chantings, low and sweet, occasionally breaking into full voice as the inner occasion swells, then

almost immediately falling again to the murmuring undertone of more concentrated attention.

The red blanket was generally worn knotted from one shoulder or bound around the waist Malay fashion.

When it turned into a cowl, with a miserable and humpbacked expression, it became the Official Badge of

Illness. No matter what was the matter that was the proper thing to doto throw the blanket over the head and

to assume as miserable a demeanour as possible. A sore toe demanded just as much concentrated woe as a

case of pneumonia. Sick call was cried after the day's work was finished. Then M'ganga or one of the askaris

"N'gonjwa! n'gonjwa!" he shouted; and at the shout the red cowls gathered in front of the tent. Three things

were likely to be the matter: too much meat, fever, or pus infection from slight wounds. To these in the rainy

season would be added the various sorts of colds. That meant either Epsom salts, quinine, or a little excursion

with the lancet and permanganate. The African traveller gets to be heap big medicine man within these

All the red cowls squatted miserably, oh, very miserably, in a row. The headman stood over them rather

fiercely. We surveyed the lot contemplatively, hoping to heaven that nothing complicated was going to turn

The man indicated pointed to his head and the back of his neck and groaned. If he had a slight headache he

groaned just as much as though his head were splitting. F. asked a few questions, and took his temperature.

The clinical thermometer is in itself considered big medicine, and often does much good.

"Too much meat, my friend," remarked F. in English, and to his boy in Swahili, "bring the cup."

He put in this cup a triple dose of Epsom salts. The African requires three times a white man's dose. This,

pathologically, was all that was required: but psychologically the job was just begun. Your African can do

wonderful things with his imagination. If he thinks he is going to die, die he will, and very promptly, even

though he is ailing of the most trivial complaint. If he thinks he is going to get well, he is very apt to do so in

face of extraordinary odds. Therefore the white man desires not only to start his patient's internal economy

with Epsom salts, but also to stir his faith. To this end F. added to that triple dose of medicine a spoonful of

Chutney, one of Worcestershire sauce, a few grains of quinine, Sparklets water and a crystal or so of

permanganate to turn the mixture a beautiful pink. This assortment the patient drank with gratitudeand the

"This man carries no load tomorrow," was the direction, "but he must not drop behind."

"I think," he remarked contemplatively in English, "that you're a liar, and want to get out of carrying your

"I'm pretty near sure you're a liar," observed F. in the pleasantest conversational tone and still in English, "but

you may be merely a poor diagnostician. Perhaps your poor insides couldn't get away with that rotten meat I

"There's Epsom salts for the real part of trouble," observed F., still talking to himself, "and here's a few things

He then proceeded to concoct a mixture whose recoil was the exact measure of his imagination. The

imagination was only limited by the necessity of keeping the mixture harmless. Every hot, biting, nauseous

"There," concluded F., "if you drink that and come back again tomorrow for treatment, I'll believe you ARE

Without undue pride I would like to record that I was the first to think of putting in a peculiarly nauseous gun

So implicit is this faith in white man's medicine that at one of the Government posts we were approached by

one of the secondary chiefs of the district. He was a very nifty savage, dressed for calling, with his hair done

in ropes like a French poodle's, his skin carefully oiled and reddened, his armlets and necklets polished, and

with the ceremonial ball of black feathers on the end of his long spear. His gait was the peculiar mincing

teeter of savage conventional society. According to custom, he approached unsmiling, spat carefully in his

"What is it?" we asked after it became evident he really wanted something besides the pleasure of our

"The doctor there is an Indian; I want REAL medicine, white man's medicine," he explained.

"Nothing," said he blandly, "nothing at all; but it seemed an excellent chance to get good medicine."

After the clinic was all attended to, we retired to our tents and the screechinghot bath so grateful in the

tropics. When we emerged, in our mosquito boots and pajamas, the daylight was gone. Scores of little blazes

licked and leaped in the velvet blackness round about, casting the undergrowth and the lower branches of the

trees into flat planes like the cardboard of a stage setting. Cheerful, squatted figures sat in silhouette or in the

relief of chance high light. Long switches of meat roasted before the fires. A hum of talk, bursts of laughter,

the crooning of minor chants mingled with the crackling of thorns. Before our tents stood the table set for

supper. Beyond it lay the pile of firewood, later to be burned on the altar of our safety against beasts. The

moonlight was casting milky shadows over the river and under the trees opposite. In those shadows gleamed

many fireflies. Overhead were millions of stars, and a little breeze that wandered through upper branches.

But in Equatorial Africa the simple bands of velvet black, against the spangled brightnesses that make up the

visual night world, must give way in interest to the other world of sound. The air hums with an undertone of

insects; the plain and hill and jungle are populous with voices furtive or bold. In daytime one sees animals

enough, in all conscience, but only at night does he sense the almost oppressive feeling of the teeming life

about him. The darkness is peopled. Zebra bark, bucks blow or snort or make the weird noises of their

respective species; hyenas howl; out of an immense simian silence a group of monkeys suddenly break into

chatterings; ostriches utter their deep hollow boom; small things scurry and squeak; a certain weird bird of

the curlew or plover sort wails like a lonesome soul. Especially by the river, as here, are the boomings of the

weirdest of weird bullfrogs, and the splashings and swishings of crocodile and hippopotamus. One is

impressed with the busyness of the world surrounding him; every bird or beast, the hunter and the hunted, is

And then, some miles away a lion roars, the earth and air vibrating to the sheer power of the sound. The

world falls to a blank dead silence. For a full minute every living creature of the jungle or of the veldt holds

After dinner we sat in our canvas chairs, smoking. The guard fire in front of our tent had been lit. On the

other side of it stood one of our askaris leaning on his musket. He and his three companions, turn about, keep

After a time we grew sleepy. I called Saasita and entrusted to him my watch. On the crystal of this I had

pasted a small piece of surgeon's plaster. When the hour hand reached the surgeon's plaster, he must wake us

up. Saasita was a very conscientious and careful man. One day I took some time hitching my pedometer

properly to his belt: I could not wear it effectively myself because I was on horseback. At the end of the

tenhour march it registered a mile and a fraction. Saasita explained that he wished to take especial care of

We turned in. As I reached over to extinguish the lantern I issued my last command for the day.

"Watcha kalele, Saasita," I told the askari; at once he lifted up his voice to repeat my words. "Watcha

kalele!" Immediately from the Responsible all over camp the word came backfrom gunbearers, from

Thus commanded, the boisterous fun, the croon of intimate talk, the gently rising and falling tide of melody

fell to complete silence. Only remained the crackling of the fire and the innumerable voices of the tropical

We camped along this river for several weeks, poking indefinitely and happily around the country in all

directions to see what we could see. Generally we went together, for neither B. nor myself had been tried out

as yet on dangerous gamethose easy rhinos hardly countedand I think we both preferred to feel that we had

backing until we knew what our nerves were going to do with us. Nevertheless, occasionally, I would take

Memba Sasa and go out for a little purposeless stroll a few miles up or down river. Sometimes we skirted the

jungle, sometimes we held as near as possible to the river's bank, sometimes we cut loose and rambled

through the dry, crackling scrub over the low volcanic hills of the arid country outside.

Nothing can equal the intense interest of the most ordinary walk in Africa. It is the only country I know of

where a man is thoroughly and continuously alive. Often when riding horseback with the dogs in my

California home I have watched them in envy of the keen, alert interest they took in every stone, stick, and

bush, in every sight, sound, and smell. With equal frequency I have expressed that envy, but as something

unattainable to a human being's more phlegmatic makeup. In Africa one actually rises to continuous

alertness. There are dozy momentsexcept you curl up in a safe place for the PURPOSE of dozing; again just

like the dog! Every bush, every hollow, every high tuft of grass, every deep shadow must be scrutinized for

danger. It will not do to pass carelessly any possible lurking place. At the same time the sense of hearing

must be on guard; so that no break of twig or crash of bough can go unremarked. Rhinoceroses conceal

themselves most cannily, and have a deceitful habit of leaping from a nap into their swiftest stride. Cobras

and puff adders are scarce, to be sure, but very deadly. Lions will generally give way, if not shot at or too

closely pressed; nevertheless there is always the chance of cubs or too close a surprise. Buffalo lurk daytimes

in the deep thickets, but occasionally a rogue bull lives where your trail will lead. These things do not happen

often, but in the long run they surely do happen, and once is quite enough provided the beast gets in.

At first this continual alertness and tension is rather exhausting; but after a very short time it becomes second

nature. A sudden rustle the other side a bush no longer brings you up all standing with your heart in your

throat; but you are aware of it, and you are facing the possible danger almost before your slower brain has

In rereading the above, I am afraid that I am conveying the idea that one here walks under the shadow of

continual uneasiness. This is not in the least so. One enjoys the sun, and the birds and the little things. He

cultivates the great leisure of mind that shall fill the breadth of his outlook abroad over a newly wonderful

world. But underneath it all is the alertness, the responsiveness to quick reflexes of judgment and action, the

intimate correlations to immediate environment which must characterize the instincts of the higher animals.

Along the edge of that river jungle were many strange and beautiful affairs. I could slip along among the high

clumps of the thicker bushes in such a manner as to be continually coming around unexpected bends. Of such

maneouvres are surprises made. The graceful red impalla were here very abundant. I would come on them,

their heads up, their great ears flung forward, their noses twitching in inquiry of something they suspected but

could not fully sense. When slightly alarmed or suspicious the does always stood compactly in a herd, while

the bucks remained discreetly in the background, their beautiful, branching, widespread horns showing over

the backs of their harems. The impalla is, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful and graceful of the African

bucks, a perpetual delight to watch either standing or running. These beasts are extraordinarily agile, and

have a habit of breaking their ordinary fast run by unexpectedly leaping high in the air. At a distance they

give somewhat the effect of dolphins at sea, only their leaps are higher and more nearly perpendicular. Once

or twice I have even seen one jump over the back of another. On another occasion we saw a herd of

twentyfive or thirty cross a road of which, evidently, they were a little suspicious. We could not find a

single hoof mark in the dust! Generally these beasts frequent thin brush country; but I have three or four

times seen them quite out in the open flat plains, feeding with the hartebeeste and zebra. They are about the

size of our ordinary deer, are delicately fashioned, and can utter the most incongruously grotesque of noises

The lack of curiosity, or the lack of gallantry, of the impalla bucks was, in my experience, quite

characteristic. They were almost always the farthest in the background and the first away when danger

threatened. The ladies could look out for themselves. They had no horns to save; and what do the fool women

mean by showing so little sense, anyway! They deserve what they get! It used to amuse me a lot to observe

the utter abandonment of all responsibility by these handsome gentlemen. When it came time to depart, they

The waterbucka fine large beast about the size of our caribou, a wellconditioned buck resembling in form

and attitude the finest of Landseer's stagson the other hand, had a little more sense of responsibility, when

he had anything to do with the sex at all. He was hardly what you might call a strictly domestic character. I

have hunted through a country for several days at a time without seeing a single mature buck of this species,

although there were plenty of does, in herds of ten to fifty, with a few infants among them just sprouting

horns. Then finally, in some small grassy valley, I would come on the Men's Club. There they were, ten,

twenty, three dozen of them, having the finest kind of an untramelled masculine time all by themselves.

Generally, however, I will say for them, they took care of their own peoples. There would quite likely be one

big old fellow, his harem of varying numbers, and the younger subordinate bucks all together in a happy

family. When some one of the lot announced that something was about, and they had all lined up to stare in

the suspected direction, the big buck was there in the foreground of inquiry. When finally they made me out,

it was generally the big buck who gave the signal. He went first, to be sure, but his going first was evidently

an act of leadership, and not merely a disgraceful desire to get away before the rest did.

But the waterbuck had to yield in turn to the plains gazelles; especially to the Thompson's gazelle,

familiarlyand affectionatelyknown as the "Tommy." He is a quaint little chap, standing only a foot and a

half tall at the shoulder, fawn colour on top, white beneath, with a black, horizontal stripe on his side, like a

chipmunk, most lightly and gracefully built. When he was first made, somebody told him that unless he did

something characteristic, like waggling his little tail, he was likely to be mistaken by the undiscriminating for

his bigger cousin, the Grant's gazelle. He has waggled his tail ever since, and so is almost never mistaken for

a Grant's gazelle, even by the undiscriminating. Evidently his religion is Mohammedan, for he always has a

great many wives. He takes good care of them, however. When danger appears, even when danger threatens,

he is the last to leave the field. Here and there he dashes frantically, seeing that the women and children get

off. And when the herd tops the hill, Tommy's little horns bring up the rear of the procession. I like Tommy.

He is a cheerful, gallant, quaint little person, with the air of being quite satisfied with his own solution of this

Among the low brush at the edge of the river jungle dwelt also the dikdik, the tiniest miniature of a deer you

could possibly imagine. His legs are lead pencil size, he stands only about nine inches tall, he weighs from

five to ten pounds; and yet he is a perfect little antelope, horns and all. I used to see him singly or in pairs

standing quite motionless and all but invisible in the shade of bushes; or leaping suddenly to his feet and

scurrying away like mad through the dry grass. His personal opinion of me was generally expressed in a loud

clear whistle. But then nobody in this strange country talks the language you would naturally expect him to

talk! Zebra bark, hyenas laugh, impallas grunt, ostriches boom like drums, leopards utter a plaintive sigh,

hornbills cry like a stage child, bushbucks sound like a cross between a dog and a squawky toyand so on.

There is only one safe rule of the novice in Africa: NEVER BELIEVE A WORD THE JUNGLE AND

These twothe impalla and the waterbuckwere the principal buck we would see close to the river.

Occasionally, however, we came on a few oryx, down for a drink, beautiful big antelope, with white and

black faces, roached manes, and straight, nearly parallel, rapier horns upward of three feet long. A herd of

these creatures, the light gleaming on their weapons, held all at the same slant, was like a regiment of

bayonets in the sun. And there were also the rhinoceroses to be carefully espied and avoided. They lay

obliterated beneath the shade of bushes, and arose with a mighty blowoff of steam. Whereupon we

Beneath all these obvious and startling things, a thousand other interesting matters were afoot. In the mass

and texture of the jungle grew many strange trees and shrubs. One most scrubby, fat and leafless tree, looking

as though it were just about to give up a discouraged existence, surprised us by putting forth, apparently

directly from its bloated wood, the most wonderful red blossoms. Another otherwise selfrespecting tree

hung itself all over with plump bologna sausages about two feet long and five inches thick. A curious vine

hung like a rope, with Turk'shead knots about a foot apart on its whole length, like the handoverhand

ropes of gymnasiums. Other ropes were studded all over with thick blunt bosses, resembling much the

outbreak on one sort of ArtsandCrafts door: the sort intended to repel Mailclad Hosts.

The monkeys undoubtedly used such obvious highways through the trees. These little people were very

common. As we walked along, they withdrew before us. We could make out their figures galloping hastily

across the open places, mounting bushes and stubs to take a satisfying backward look, clambering to treetops,

and launching themselves across the abysses between limbs. If we went slowly, they retired in silence. If we

hurried at all, they protested in direct ratio to the speed of our advance. And when later the whole safari, loads

on heads, marched inconsiderately through their jungle! We happened to be hunting on a parallel course a

half mile away, and we could trace accurately the progress of our men by the outraged shrieks, chatterings,

Often, too, we would come on concourses of the big baboons. They certainly carried on weighty affairs of

their own according to a fixed polity. I never got well enough acquainted with them to master the details of

their government, but it was indubitably built on patriarchal lines. When we succeeded in approaching

without being discovered, we would frequently find the old men baboons squatting on their heels in a perfect

circle, evidently discussing matters of weight and portent. Seen from a distance, their group so much

resembled the council circles of native warriors that sometimes, in a native country, we made that mistake.

Outside this solemn council, the women, young men and children went about their daily business, whatever

We never remained long undiscovered. One of the sentinels barked sharply. At once the whole lot loped

away, speedily but with a curious effect of deliberation. The men folks held their tails in a proud high

sideways arch; the curious youngsters clambered up bushes to take a hasty look; the babies clung desperately

with all four feet to the thick fur on their mothers' backs; the mothers galloped along imperturbably

unheeding of infantile troubles aloft. The side hill was bewildering with the big bobbing black forms.

In this lower country the weather was hot, and the sun very strong. The heated air was full of the sounds of

insects; some of them comfortable, like the buzzing of bees, some of them strange and unusual to us. One

cicada had a sustained note, in quality about like that of our own Augustday's friend, but in quantity and

duration as the roar of a train to the gentle hum of a good motor car. Like all cicada noises it did not usurp the

sound world, but constituted itself an underlying basis, so to speak. And when it stopped the silence seemed

We had likewise the aeroplane beetle. He was so big that he would have made good wingshooting. His

don'tstopaminuteoryou'llcomedown method of the aeroplane; and he made the same sort of a hum.

His firstcousin, mechanically, was what we called the windupthewatch insect. This specimen possessed

a watchan oldfashioned Waterbury, evidentlythat he was continually winding. It must have been hard

All these things were amusing. So were the birds. The African bird is quite inclined to be didactic. He

believes you need advice, and he means to give it. To this end he repeats the same thing over and over until

he thinks you surely cannot misunderstand. One chap especially whom we called the lawyer bird, and who

lived in the treetops, had four phrases to impart. He said them very deliberately, with due pause between

each; then he repeated them rapidly; finally he said them all over again with an exasperated bearingdown

emphasis. The joke of it is I cannot now remember just how they went! Another feathered pedagogue was

continually warning us to go slow; very good advice near an African jungle. "Poleypoley! Poleypoley!" he

warned again and again; which is good Swahili for "slowly! slowly!" We always minded him. There were

many others, equally impressed with their own wisdom, but the one I remember with most amusement was a

dilatory person who apparently never got around to his job until near sunset. Evidently he had contracted to

deliver just so many warnings per diem; and invariably he got so busy chasing insects, enjoying the sun,

gossiping with a friend and generally footling about that the late afternoon caught him unawares with never a

chirp accomplished. So he sat in a bush and said his say over and over just as fast as he could without pause

for breath or recreation. It was really quite a feat. Just at dusk, after two hours of gabbling, he would reach the

It has been said that African birds are "songless." This is a careless statement that can easily be read to mean

that African birds are silent. The writer evidently must have had in mind as a criterion some of our own or the

English great feathered soloists. Certainly the African jungle seems to produce no individual performers as

sustained as our own bobolink, our hermit thrush, or even our common robin. But the African birds are

vocal enough, for all that. Some of them have a richness and depth of timbre perhaps unequalled elsewhere.

Of such is the chimebird with his deep double note; or the bellbird tolling like a cathedral in the blackness

of the forest; or the bottle bird that apparently pours gurgling liquid gold from a silver jug. As the jungle is

exceedingly populous of these feathered specialists, it follows that the early morning chorus is wonderful.

Africa may not possess the soloists, but its full orchestrial effects are superb.

Naturally under the equator one expects and demands the "gorgeous tropical plumage" of the books. He is not

disappointed. The sunbirds of fifty odd species, the brilliant blue starlings, the various parrots, the

variegated hornbills, the widowerbirds, and dozens of others whose names would mean nothing flash here

and there in the shadow and in the open. With them are hundreds of quiet little bodies just as interesting to

one who likes birds. >From the trees and bushes hang pearshaped nests plaited beautifully of long grasses,

hard and smooth as handmade baskets, the work of the various sorts of weaverbirds. In the tops of the trees

roosted tall marabout storks like dissipated, hairless old clubmen in wellgroomed, correct evening dress.

And around camp gathered the swift brown kites. They were robbers and villains, but we could not hate them.

All day long they sailed back and forth spying sharply. When they thought they saw their chance, they

stooped with incredible swiftness to seize a piece of meat. Sometimes they would snatch their prize almost

from the hands of its rightful owner, and would swoop triumphantly upward again pursued by polyglot

maledictions and a throwing stick. They were very skilful on their wings. I have many times seen them, while

flying, tear up and devour large chunks of meat. It seems to my inexperience as an aviator rather a nice feat to

keep your balance while tearing with your beak at meat held in your talons. Regardless of other landmarks,

we always knew when we were nearing camp, after one of our strolls, by the gracefully wheeling figures of

One day we all set out to make our discoveries: F., B., and I with our gunbearers, Memba Sasa, Mavrouki,

and Simba, and ten porters to bring in the trophies, which we wanted very much, and the meat, which the

men wanted still more. We rode our horses, and the syces followed. This made quite a field forcenineteen

men all told. Nineteen white men would be exceedingly unlikely to get within a liberal half mile of anything;

At first we followed between the river and the low hills, but when the latter drew back to leave open a broad

flat, we followed their line. At this point they rose to a clifflike headland a hundred and fifty feet high, flat on

top. We decided to investigate that mesa, both for the possibilities of game, and for the chance of a view

The footing was exceedingly noisy and treacherous, for it was composed of flat, tinkling little stones.

Driedup, skimpy bushes just higher than our heads made a thin but regular cover. There seemed not to be a

spear of anything edible, yet we caught the flash of red as a herd of impalla melted away at our rather noisy

approach. Near the foot of the hill we dismounted, with orders to all the men but the gunbearers to sit down

and make themselves comfortable. Should we need them we could easily either signal or send word. Then we

It was not particularly easy going, especially as we were trying to walk quietly. You see, we were about to

surmount a skyline. Surmounting a skyline is always most exciting anywhere, for what lies beyond is at once

revealed as a whole and contains the very essence of the unknown; but most decidedly is this true in Africa.

That mesa looked flat, and almost anything might be grazing or browsing there. So we proceeded gingerly,

with due regard to the rolling of the loose rocks or the tinkling of the little pebbles.

But long before we had reached that alluring skyline we were halted by the gentle snapping of Mavrouki's

fingers. That, strangely enough, is a sound to which wild animals seem to pay no attention, and is therefore

most useful as a signal. We looked back. The three gunbearers were staring to the right of our course. About a

hundred yards away, on the steep side hill, and partly concealed by the brush, stood two rhinoceroses.

They were side by side, apparently dozing. We squatted on our heels for a consultation.

The obvious thing, as the wind was from them, was to sneak quietly by, saying nuffin' to nobody. But

although we wanted no more rhino, we very much wanted rhino pictures. A discussion developed no really

good reason why we should not kodak these especial rhinosexcept that there were two of them. So we began

F. and B. deployed on the flanks, their doublebarrelled rifles ready for instant action. I occupied the middle

with that dangerous weapon the 3A kodak. Memba Sasa followed at my elbow, holding my big gun.

Now the trouble with modern photography is that it is altogether too lavish in its depiction of distances. If

you do not believe it, take a picture of a horse at as short a range as twentyfive yards. That equine will, in

the development, have receded to a respectable middle distance. Therefore it had been agreed that the

advance of the battle line was to cease only when those rhinoceroses loomed up reasonably large in the

finder. I kept looking into the finder, you may be sure. Nearer and nearer we crept. The great beasts were

evidently basking in the sun. Their little pig eyes alone gave any sign of life. Otherwise they exhibited the

complete immobility of something done in granite. Probably no other beast impresses one with quite this

quality. I suppose it is because even the little motions peculiar to other animals are with the rhinoceros

entirely lacking. He is not in the least of a nervous disposition, so he does not stamp his feet nor change his

position. It is useless for him to wag his tail; for, in the first place, the tail is absurdly inadequate; and, in the

second place, flies are not among his troubles. Flies wouldn't bother you either, if you had a skin two inches

thick. So there they stood, inert and solid as two huge brown rocks, save for the deep, wicked twinkle of their

Yes, we were close enough to "see the whites of their eyes," if they had had any: and also to be within the

range of their limited vision. Of course we were now stalking, and taking advantage of all the cover.

Those rhinoceroses looked to me like two Dreadnaughts. The African twohorned rhinoceros is a bigger

animal anyway than our circus friend, who generally comes from India. One of these brutes I measured went

five feet nine inches at the shoulder, and was thirteen feet six inches from bow to stern. Compare these

dimensions with your own height and with the length of your motor car. It is one thing to take on such beasts

in the hurry of surprise, the excitement of a charge, or to stalk up to within a respectable range of them with a

gun at ready. But this deliberate sneaking up with the hope of being able to sneak away again was a little too

slow and coldblooded. It made me nervous. I liked it, but I knew at the time I was going to like it a whole

We were now within twenty yards (they were standing starboard side on), and I prepared to get my picture.

To do so I would either have to step quietly out into sight, trusting to the shadow and the slowness of my

movements to escape observation, or hold the camera above the bush, directing it by guess work. It was a

Without the slightest premonitory warning those two brutes snorted and whirled in their tracks to stand facing

in our direction. After the dead stillness they made a tremendous row, what with the jerky suddenness of their

movements, their loud snorts, and the avalanche of echoing stones and boulders they started down the hill.

This was the magnificent opportunity. At this point I should boldly have stepped out from behind my bush,

levelled my trusty 3A, and coolly snapped the beasts, "charging at fifteen yards." Then, if B.'s and F.'s shots

went absolutely true, or if the brutes didn't happen to smash the camera as well as me, I, or my executors as

But I didn't. I dropped that expensive 3A Special on some hard rocks, and grabbed my rifle from Memba

Sasa. If you want really to know why, go confront your motor car at fifteen or twenty paces, multiply him by

They advanced several yards, halted, faced us for perhaps five or six seconds, uttered snort, whirled with the

agility of polo ponies, departed at a swinging trot and with surprising agility along the steep side hill.

The top of the mesa was disappointing as far as game was concerned. It was covered all over with red stones,

round, and as large as a man's head. Thornbushes found some sort of sustenance in the interstices.

But we had gained to a magnificent view. Below us lay the narrow flat, then the winding jungle of our river,

then long rolling desert country, gray with thorn scrub, sweeping upward to the base of castellated buttes and

one tremendous riven cliff mountain, dropping over the horizon to a very distant blue range. Behind us eight

or ten miles away was the low ridge through which our journey had come. The mesa on which we stood

broke back at right angles to admit another stream flowing into our own. Beyond this stream were rolling

hills, and scrub country, the hint of blue peaks and illimitable distances falling away to the unknown Tara

There seemed to be nothing much to be gained here, so we made up our minds to cut across the mesa, and

from the other edge of it to overlook the valley of the tributary river. This we would descend until we came to

Accordingly we stumbled across a mile or so of those round and rolling stones. Then we found ourselves

overlooking a wide flat or pocket where the stream valley widened. It extended even as far as the upward

fling of the barrier ranges. Thick scrub covered it, but erratically, so that here and there were little openings

or thin places. We sat down, manned our trusty prism glasses, and gave ourselves to the pleasing occupation

This is great fun. It is a game a good deal like puzzle pictures. Reexamination generally develops new and

unexpected beasts. We repeated to each other aloud the results of our scrutiny, always without removing the

The three bearers squatted on their heels behind us, their fierce eyes staring straight ahead, seeing with the

We turned to descend the hill. In the very centre of the deep shade of a clump of trees, I saw the gleam of a

waterbuck's horns. While I was telling of this, the beast stepped from his concealment, trotted a short distance

upstream and turned to climb a little ridge parallel to that by which we were descending. About halfway up

he stopped, staring in our direction, his head erect, the slight ruff under his neck standing forward. He was a

good four hundred yards away. B., who wanted him, decided the shot too chancy. He and F. slipped

backward until they had gained the cover of the little ridge, then hastened down the bed of the ravine. Their

purpose was to follow the course already taken by the waterbuck until they should have sneaked within better

range. In the meantime I and the gunbearers sat down in full view of the buck. This was to keep his attention

We sat there a long time. The buck never moved but continued to stare at what evidently puzzled him. Time

passes very slowly in such circumstances, and it seemed incredible that the beast should continue much

longer to hold his fixed attitude. Nevertheless B. and F. were working hard. We caught glimpses of them

occasionally slipping from bush to bush. Finally B. knelt and levelled his rifle. At once I turned my glasses

on the buck. Before the sound of the rifle had reached me, I saw him start convulsively, then make off at the

tearing run that indicates a heart hit. A moment later the crack of the rifle and the dull plunk of the hitting

We tracked him fifty yards to where he lay dead. He was a fine trophy, and we at once set the boys to

preparing it and taking the meat. In the meantime we sauntered down to look at the stream. It was a small

rapid affair, but in heavy papyrus, with sparse trees, and occasional thickets, and dry hard banks. The papyrus

should make a good lurking place for almost anything; but the few points of access to the water failed to

show many interesting tracks. Nevertheless we decided to explore a short distance.

For an hour we walked among high thornbushes, over baking hot earth. We saw two or three dikdik and one

of the giraffes. At that time it had become very hot, and the sun was bearing down on us as with the weight of

a heavy hand. The air had the scorching, blasting quality of an opened furnace door. Our mouths were getting

dry and sticky in that peculiar stage of thirst on which no lukewarm canteen water in necessarily limited

quantity has any effect. So we turned back, picked up the men with the waterbuck, and plodded on down the

little stream, or, rather, on the redhot dry valley bottom outside the stream's course, to where the syces were

waiting with our horses. We mounted with great thankfulness. It was now eleven o'clock, and we considered

The best way for a distance seemed to follow the course of the tributary stream to its point of junction with

our river. We rode along, rather relaxed in the suffocating heat. F. was nearest the stream. At one point it

freed itself of trees and brush and ran clear, save for low papyrus, ten feet down below a steep eroded bank.

F. looked over and uttered a startled exclamation. I spurred my horse forward to see.

Below us, about fifteen yards away, was the carcass of a waterbuck half hidden in the foothigh grass. A lion

and two lionesses stood upon it, staring up at us with great yellow eyes. That picture is a very vivid one in my

memory, for those were the first wild lions I had ever seen. My most lively impression was of their

The magnificent beasts stood only long enough to see clearly what had disturbed them, then turned, and in

Now the habit in Africa is to let your gunbearers carry all your guns. You yourself stride along hand free. It is

an English idea, and is pretty generally adopted out there by every one, of whatever nationality. They will

explain it to you by saying that in such a climate a man should do only necessary physical work, and that a

good gunbearer will get a weapon into your hand so quickly and in so convenient a position that you will lose

no time. I acknowledge the gunbearers are sometimes very skilful at this, but I do deny that there is no loss of

time. The instant of distracted attention while receiving a weapon, the necessity of recollecting the nervous

correlations after the transfer, very often mark just the difference between a sure instinctive snapshot and a

lost opportunity. It reasons that the man with the rifle in his hand reacts instinctively, in one motion, to get his

weapon into play. If the gunbearer has the gun, HE must first react to pass it up, the master must receive it

properly, and THEN, and not until then, may go on from where the other man began. As for physical labour

in the tropics: if a grown man cannot without discomfort or evil effects carry an eightpound rifle, he is too

feeble to go out at all. In a long Western experience I have learned never to be separated from my weapon;

and I believe the continuance of this habit in Africa saved me a good number of chances.

At any rate, we all flung ourselves off our horses. I, having my rifle in my hand, managed to throw a shot

after the biggest lion as he vanished. It was a snap at nothing, and missed. Then in an opening on the edge a

hundred yards away appeared one of the lionesses. She was trotting slowly, and on her I had time to draw a

hasty aim. At the shot she bounded high in the air, fell, rolled over, and was up and into the thicket before I

had much more than time to pump up another shell from the magazine. Memba Sasa in his eagerness got in

By this time the others had got hold of their weapons. We fronted the blank face of the thicket.

The wounded animal would stand a little waiting. We made a wide circle to the other side of the stream.

There we quickly picked up the trail of the two uninjured beasts. They had headed directly over the hill,

where we speedily lost all trace of them on the flintlike surface of the ground. We saw a big pack of

baboons in the only likely direction for a lion to go. Being thus thrown back on a choice of a hundred other

This proved to be a very dense piece of cover. Above the height of the waist the interlocking branches would

absolutely prevent any progress, but by stooping low we could see dimly among the simpler main stems to a

distance of perhaps fifteen or twenty feet. This combination at once afforded the wounded lioness plenty of

cover in which to hide, plenty of room in which to charge home, and placed us under the disadvantage of a

crouched or crawling attitude with limited vision. We talked the matter over very thoroughly. There was only

one way to get that lioness out; and that was to go after her. The job of going after her needed some planning.

The lion is cunning and exceeding fierce. A flank attack, once we were in the thicket, was as much to be

We advanced to the thicket's edge with many precautions. To our relief we found she had left us a definite

trail. B. and I kneeling took up positions on either side, our rifles ready. F. and Simba crawled by inches eight

or ten feet inside the thicket. Then, having executed this manoeuvre safely, B. moved up to protect our rear

>From this point we moved forward alternately. I would crouch, all alert, my rifle ready, while F. slipped by

me and a few feet ahead. Then he get organized for battle while I passed him. Memba Sasa and Simba, game

as badgers, their fine eyes gleaming with excitement, their faces shining, crept along at the rear. B. knelt

outside the thicket, straining his eyes for the slightest movement either side of the line of our advance. Often

these wily animals will sneak back in a half circle to attack their pursuers from behind. Two or three of the

bolder porters crouched alongside B., peering eagerly. The rest had quite properly retired to the safe distance

We progressed very, very slowly. Every splash of light or mottled shadow, every clump of bush stems, every

fallen log had to be examined, and then examined again. And how we did strain our eyes in a vain attempt to

penetrate the half lights, the duskinesses of the closedin thicket not over fifteen feet away! And then the

movement forward of two feet would bring into our field of vision an entirely new set of tiny vistas and

Speaking for myself, I was keyed up to a tremendous tension. I stared until my eyes ached; every muscle and

nerve was taut. Everything depended on seeing the beast promptly, and firing quickly. With the manifest

advantage of being able to see us, she would spring to battle fully prepared. A yellow flash and a quick shot

seemed about to size up that situation. Every few moments, I remember, I surreptitiously held out my hand to

see if the constantly growing excitement and the longcontinued strain had affected its steadiness.

The combination of heat and nervous strain was very exhausting. The sweat poured from me; and as F.

passed me I saw the great drops standing out on his face. My tongue got dry, my breath came laboriously.

Finally I began to wonder whether physically I should be able to hold out. We had been crawling, it seemed,

for hours. I dared not look back, but we must have come a good quarter mile. Finally F. stopped.

Somehow that confession made me feel a lot better. I had thought that I was the only one. Cautiously we

settled back on our heels. Memba Sasa and Simba wiped the sweat from their faces. It seemed that they too

Simba grinned at us, and, worming his way backward with the sinuousity of a snake, he disappeared in the

direction from which we had come. F. cursed after him in a whisper both for departing and for taking the risk.

But in a moment he had returned carrying two canteens of blessed water. We took a drink most gratefully.

I glanced at my watch. It was just under two hours since I had fired my shot. I looked back. My supposed

After resting a few moments longer, we again took up our systematic advance. We made perhaps another

fifty feet. We were ascending a very gentle slope. F. was for the moment ahead. Right before us the lion

growled; a deep rumbling like the end of a great thunder roll, fathoms and fathoms deep, with the inner

subterranean vibrations of a heavy train of cars passing a man inside a sealed building. At the same moment

over F.'s shoulder I saw a huge yellow head rise up, the round eyes flashing anger, the small blacktipped

ears laid back, the great fangs snarling. The beast was not over twelve feet distant. F. immediately fired. His

shot, hitting an intervening twig, went wild. With the utmost coolness he immediately pulled the other trigger

"If you will kindly stoop down" said I, in what I now remember to be rather an exaggeratedly polite tone.

As F.'s head disappeared, I placed the little gold bead of my 405 Winchester where I thought it would do the

The whole affair had begun and finished with unbelievable swiftness. From the growl to the fatal shot I don't

suppose four seconds elapsed, for our various actions had followed one another with the speed of the

instinctive. The lioness had growled at our approach, had raised her head to charge, and had received her

deathblow before she had released her muscles in the spring. There had been no time to get frightened.

We then remembered B., and shouted to him that all was over. He and the other men wriggled in to where we

were lying. He made this distance in about fifteen seconds. It had taken us nearly an hour.

We had the lioness dragged out into the open. She was not an especially large beast, as compared to most of

the others I killed later, but at that time she looked to me about as big as they made them. As a matter of fact

she was quite big enough, for she stood three feet two inches at the shouldermeasure that against the

walland was seven feet and six inches in length. My first bullet had hit her leg, and the last had reached her

Every one shook me by the hand. The gunbearers squatted about the carcass, skilfully removing the skin to an

undertone of curious crooning that every few moments broke out into one or two bars of a chant. As the body

was uncovered, the men crouched about to cut off little pieces of fat. These they rubbed on their foreheads

and over their chests, to make them brave, they said, and cunning, like the lion.

We remounted and took up our interrupted journey to camp. It was a little after two, and the heat was at its

worst. We rode rather sleepily, for the reaction from the high tension of excitement had set in. Behind us

marched the three gunbearers, all abreast, very military and proud. Then came the porters in single file, the

one carrying the folded lion skin leading the way; those bearing the waterbuck trophy and meat bringing up

the rear. They kept up an undertone of humming in a minor key; occasionally breaking into a short musical

We rode an hour. The camp looked very cool and inviting under its wide high trees, with the river slipping by

around the islands of papyrus. A number of black heads bobbed about in the shallows. The small fires sent up

little wisps of smoke. Around them our boys sprawled, playing simple games, mending, talking, roasting

I had thought of riding nonchalantly up to our own tents, of dismounting with a careless word of greeting

"Oh, yes," I would say, "we did have a good enough day. Pretty hot. Roy got a fine waterbuck. Yes, I got a

But Memba Sasa used up all the nonchalance there was. As we entered camp he remarked casually to the

Every one in camp also leaped to his feet, taking up the cry. >From the water it was echoed as the bathers

scrambled ashore. The camp broke into pandemonium. We were surrounded by a dense struggling mass of

men. They reached up scores of black hands to grasp my own; they seized from me everything portable and

bore it in triumph before memy water bottle, my rifle, my camera, my whip, my field glasses, even my hat,

everything that was detachable. Those on the outside danced and lifted up their voices in song, improvised for

the most part, and in honor of the day's work. In a vast swirling, laughing, shouting, triumphant mob we

swept through the camp to where Billyby now not very much surprisedwas waiting to get the official

news. By the measure of this extravagant joy could we gauge what the killing of a lion means to these people

A very large lion I killed stood three feet and nine inches at the withers, and of course carried his head higher

than that. The top of the table at which I sit is only two feet three inches from the floor. Coming through the

door at my back that lion's head would stand over a foot higher than halfway up. Look at your own writing

desk; your own door. Furthermore, he was nine feet and eleven inches in a straight line from nose to end of

tail, or over eleven feet along the contour of the back. If he were to rise on his hind feet to strike a man down,

he would stand somewhere between seven and eight feet tall, depending on how nearly he straightened up.

He weighed just under six hundred pounds, or as much as four wellgrown specimens of our own "mountain

lion." I tell you this that you may realize, as I did not, the size to which a wild lion grows. Either menagerie

specimens are stunted in growth, or their position and surroundings tend to belittle them, for certainly until a

man sees old Leo in the wilderness he has not understood what a fine old chap he is.

This tremendous weight is sheer strength. A lion's carcass when the skin is removed is a really beautiful sight.

The great muscles lie in ropes and bands; the forearm thicker than a man's leg, the lithe barrel banded with

brawn; the flanks overlaid by the long thick muscles. And this power is instinct with the nervous force of a

highly organized being. The lion is quick and intelligent and purposeful; so that he brings to his intenser

activities the concentration of vivid passion, whether of anger, of hunger or of desire.

So far the opinions of varied experience will jog along together. At this point they diverge.

Just as the lion is one of the most interesting and fascinating of beasts, so concerning him one may hear the

most diverse opinions. This man will tell you that any lion is always dangerous. Another will hold the king of

In the first place, generalization about any species of animal is an exceedingly dangerous thing. I believe that,

in the case of the higher animals at least, the differences in individual temperament are quite likely to be more

numerous than the specific likenesses. Just as individual men are bright or dull, nervous or phlegmatic,

cowardly or brave, so individual animals vary in like respect. Our own hunters will recall from their personal

experiences how the big bear may have sat down and bawled harmlessly for mercy, while the little

unconsidered fellow did his best until finished off: how one buck dropped instantly to a wound that another

would carry five miles: how of two equally matched warriors of the herd one will give way in the fight, while

still uninjured, before his perhaps badly wounded antagonist. The casual observer mightand often doessay

that all bears are cowardly, all bucks are easily killed, or the reverse, according as the god of chance has

treated him to one spectacle or the other. As well try to generalize on the human raceas is a certain

ecclesiastical habitthat all men are vile or noble, dishonest or upright, wise or foolish.

The higher we go in the scale the truer this individualism holds. We are forced to reason not from the bulk of

observations, but from their averages. If we find ten bucks who will go a mile wounded to two who succumb

in their tracks from similar hurts, we are justified in saying tentatively that the species is tenacious of life. But

as experience broadens we may modify that statement; for strange indeed are runs of luck.

For this reason a good deal of the wise conclusion we read in sportsmen's narratives is worth very little. Few

men have experience enough with lions to rise to averages through the possibilities of luck. ESPECIALLY is

this true of lions. No beast that roams seems to go more by luck than felis leo. Good hunters may search for

years without seeing hide nor hair of one of the beasts. Selous, one of the greatest, went to East Africa for the

express purpose of getting some of the fine beasts there, hunted six weeks and saw none. Holmes of the

Escarpment has lived in the country six years, has hunted a great deal and has yet to kill his first. One of the

railroad officials has for years gone up and down the Uganda Railway on his handcar, his rifle ready in hopes

of the lion that never appeared; though many are there seen by those with better fortune. Bronson hunted

desperately for this great prize, but failed. Rainsford shot no lions his first trip, and ran into them only three

years later. Read Abel Chapman's description of his continued bad luck at even seeing the beasts. MacMillan,

after five years' unbroken good fortune, has in the last two years failed to kill a lion, although he has made

many trips for the purpose. F. told me he followed every rumour of a lion for two years before he got one.

Again, one may hear the most marvellous of yarns the other way aboutof the German who shot one from the

train on the way up from Mombasa; of the young English tenderfoot who, the first day out, came on three

asleep, across a river, and potted the lot; and so on. The point is, that in the case of lions the element of sheer

chance seems to begin earlier and last longer than is the case with any other beast. And, you must remember,

experience must thrust through the luck element to the solid ground of averages before it can have much

value in the way of generalization. Before he has reached that solid ground, a man's opinions depend entirely

on what kind of lions he chances to meet, in what circumstances, and on how matters happen to shape in the

But though lack of sufficiently extended experience has much to do with these decided differences of

opinion, I believe that misapprehension has also its part. The sportsman sees lions on the plains. Likewise the

lions see him, and promptly depart to thick cover or rocky butte. He comes on them in the scrub; they bound

hastily out of sight. He may even meet them face to face, but instead of attacking him, they turn to right and

left and make off in the long grass. When he follows them, they sneak cunningly away. If, added to this, he

has the good luck to kill one or two stone dead at a single shot each, he begins to think there is not much in

lion shooting after all, and goes home proclaiming the king of beasts a skulking coward.

After all, on what grounds does he base this conclusion? In what way have circumstances been a test of

courage at all? The lion did not stand and fight, to be sure; but why should he? What was there in it for lions?

Behind any action must a motive exist. Where is the possible motive for any lion to attack on sight? He does

notexcept in unusual caseseat men; nothing has occurred to make him angry. The obvious thing is to avoid

trouble, unless there is a good reason to seek it. In that one evidences the lion's good sense, but not his lack of

But if the sportsman had done one of two or three things, I am quite sure he would have had a taste of our

friend's mettle. If he had shot at and even grazed the beast; if he had happened upon him where an exit was

TIRED OF THE ANNOYANCE, he would very soon have discovered that Leo is not all good nature, and

that once on his courage will take him in against any odds. Furthermore, he may be astonished and dismayed

to discover that of a group of several lions, two or three besides the wounded animal are quite likely to take

up the quarrel and charge too. In other words, in my opinion, the lion avoids trouble when he can, not from

cowardice but from essential indolence or good nature; but does not need to be cornered* to fight to the death

*This is an important distinction in estimating the inherent courage of man or beast. Even a mouse will fight

For of all dangerous beasts the lion, when once aroused, will alone face odds to the end. The rhinoceros, the

elephant, and even the buffalo can often be turned aside by a shot. A lion almost always charges home.*

Slower and slower he comes, as the bullets strike; but he comes, until at last he may be just hitching himself

along, his face to the enemy, his fierce spirit undaunted. When finally he rolls over, he bites the earth in great

mouthfuls; and so passes fighting to the last. The death of a lion is a fine sight.

*I seem to be generalizing here, but all these conclusions must be understood to take into consideration the

No, I must confess, to me the lion is an object of great respect; and so, I gather, he is to all who have had

really extensive experience. Those like Leslie Tarleton, Lord Delamere, W. N. MacMillan, Baron von

Bronsart, the Hills, Sir Alfred Pease, who are great lion men, all concede to the lion a courage and tenacity

unequalled by any other living beast. My own experience is of course nothing as compared to that of these

men. Yet I saw in my nine months afield seventyone lions. None of these offered to attack when unwounded

or not annoyed. On the other hand, only one turned tail once the battle was on, and she proved to be a three

It is of course indubitable that where lions have been much shot they become warier in the matter of keeping

out of trouble. They retire to cover earlier in the morning, and they keep more than a perfunctory outlook for

the casual human being. When hunters first began to go into the Sotik the lions there would stand

imperturbable, staring at the intruder with curiosity or indifference. Now they have learned that such

performances are not healthyand they have probably satisfied their curiosity. But neither in the Sotik, nor

even in the plains around Nairobi itself, does the lion refuse the challenge once it has been put up to him

squarely. Nor does he need to be cornered. He charges in quite blithely from the open plain, once convinced

As to habits! The only sure thing about a lion is his originality. He has more exceptions to his rules than the

German language. Men who have been mighty lion hunters for many years, and who have brought to their

hunting close observation, can only tell you what a lion MAY do in certain circumstances. Following very

broad principles, they may even predict what he is APT to do, but never what he certainly WILL do. That is

In general, then, the lion frequents that part of the country where feed the great game herds. From them he

takes his toll by night, retiring during the day into the shallow ravines, the brush patches, or the rocky little

buttes. I have, however, seen lions miles from game, slumbering peacefully atop an ant hill. Indeed,

occasionally, a pack of lions likes to live high in the tallgrass ridges where every hunt will mean for them a

four or fivemile jaunt out and back again. He needs water, after feeding, and so rarely gets farther than

He hunts at night. This is as nearly invariable a rule as can be formulated in regard to lions. Yet once, and

perhaps twice, I saw lionesses stalking through tall grass as early as three o'clock in the afternoon. This

eagerness may, or may not, have had to do with the possession of hungry cubs. The lion's customary

harmlessness in the daytime is best evidenced, however, by the comparative indifference of the game to his

presence then. From a hill we watched three of these beasts wandering leisurely across the plains below. A

herd of kongonis feeding directly in their path, merely moved aside right and left, quite deliberately, to leave

a passage fifty yards or so wide, but otherwise paid not the slightest attention. I have several times seen this

incident, or a modification of it. And yet, conversely, on a number of occasions we have received our first

intimation of the presence of lions by the wild stampeding of the game away from a certain spot.

However, the most of his hunting is done by dark. Between the hours of sundown and nine o'clock he and his

comrades may be heard uttering the deep coughing grunt typical of this time of night. These curious, short,

farsounding calls may be mere evidences of intention, or they may be a sort of signal by means of which the

various hunters keep in touch. After a little they cease. Then one is quite likely to hear the petulant, alarmed

barking of zebra, or to feel the vibrations of many hoofs. There is a sense of hurried, flurried uneasiness

The lion generally springs on his prey from behind or a little off the quarter. By the impetus his own weight

he hurls his victim forward, doubling its head under, and very neatly breaking its neck. I have never seen this

done, but the process has been well observed and attested; and certainly, of the many hundreds of lion kills I

have taken the pains to inspect, the majority had had their necks broken. Sometimes, but apparently more

rarely, the lion kills its prey by a bite in the back of the neck. I have seen zebra killed in this fashion, but

never any of the buck. It may be possible that the lack of horns makes it more difficult to break a zebra's neck

because of the corresponding lack of leverage when its head hits the ground sidewise; the instances I have

noted may have been those in which the lion's spring landed too far back to throw the victim properly; or

perhaps they were merely examples of the great variability in the habits of felis leo.

Once the kill is made, the lion disembowels the beast very neatly indeed, and drags the entrails a few feet out

of the way. He then eats what he wants, and, curiously enough, seems often to be very fond of the skin. In

fact, lacking other evidence, it is occasionally possible to identify a kill as being that of a lion by noticing

whether any considerable portion of the hide has been devoured. After eating he drinks. Then he is likely to

do one of two things: either he returns to cover near the carcass and lies down, or he wanders slowly and with

satisfaction toward his happy home. In the latter case the hyenas, jackals, and carrion birds seize their chance.

The astute hunter can often diagnose the case by the general actions and demeanour of these camp followers.

A half dozen sour and disgusted looking hyenas seated on their haunches at scattered intervals, and treefuls of

mournfully humpbacked vultures sunk in sadness, indicate that the lion has decided to save the rest of his

zebra until tomorrow and is not far away. On the other hand, a grand flapping, snarling Kilkennyfair of an

aggregation swirling about one spot in the grass means that the principal actor has gone home.

It is ordinarily useless to expect to see the lion actually on his prey. The feeding is done before dawn, after

which the lion enjoys stretching out in the open until the sun is well up, and then retiring to the nearest

available cover. Still, at the risk of seeming to be perpetually qualifying, I must instance finding three lions

actually on the stale carcass of a waterbuck at eleven o'clock in the morning of a piping hot day! In an

undisturbed country, or one not much hunted, the early morning hours up to say nine o'clock are quite likely

to show you lions sauntering leisurely across the open plains toward their lairs. They go a little, stop a little,

yawn, sit down a while, and gradually work their way home. At those times you come upon them

unexpectedly face to face, or, seeing them from afar, ride them down in a glorious gallop. Where the country

has been much hunted, however, the lion learns to abandon his kill and seek shelter before daylight, and is

almost never seen abroad. Then one must depend on happening upon him in his cover.

In the actual hunting of his game the lion is apparently very clever. He understands the value of cooperation.

Two or more will manoeuvre very skilfully to give a third the chance to make an effective spring; whereupon

the three will share the kill. In a rough country, or one otherwise favourable to the method, a pack of lions

will often deliberately drive game into narrow ravines or cul de sacs where the killers are waiting.

At such times the man favoured by the chance of an encampment within five miles or so can hear a lion's

Otherwise I doubt if he is apt often to get the fullvoiced, genuine article. The peculiar questioning cough of

early evening is resonant and deep in vibration, but it is a call rather than a roar. No lion is fool enough to

make a noise when he is stalking. Then afterward, when full fed, individuals may open up a few times, but

only a few times, in sheer satisfaction, apparently, at being well fed. The menagerie row at feeding time,

formidable as it sounds within the echoing walls, is only a mild and gentle hint. But when seven or eight lions

roar merely to see how much noise they can make, as when driving game, or trying to stampede your oxen on

a wagon trip, the effect is something tremendous. The very substance of the ground vibrates; the air shakes. I

can only compare it to the effect of a very large deep organ in a very small church. There is something

genuinely aweinspiring about it; and when the repeated volleys rumble into silence, one can imagine the

As to the dangers of lion hunting it is also difficult to write. There is no question that a cool man, using good

judgment as to just what he can or cannot do, should be able to cope with lion situations. The modern rifle is

capable of stopping the beast, provided the bullet goes to the right spot. The right spot is large enough to be

easy to hit, if the shooter keeps cool. Our definition of a cool man must comprise the elements of steady

nerves under superexcitement, the ability to think quickly and clearly, and the mildly strategic quality of

being able to make the best use of awkward circumstances. Such a man, barring sheer accidents, should be

able to hunt lions with absolute certainty for just as long as he does not get careless, slipshod or

overconfident. Accidentsreal accidents, not merely unexpected happeningsare hardly to be counted. They

But to the man not temperamentally qualified, lion shooting is dangerous enough. The lion, when he takes the

offensive, intends to get his antagonist. Having made up his mind to that, he charges home, generally at great

speed. The realization that it is the man's life or the beast's is disconcerting. Also the charging lion is a

spectacle much more aweinspiring in reality than the most vivid imagination can predict. He looks very

large, very determined, and has uttered certain rumbling, bloodcurdling threats as to what he is going to do

about it. It suddenly seems most undesirable to allow that lion to come any closer, not even an inch! A hasty,

An unwounded lion charging from a distance is said to start rather slowly, and to increase his pace only as he

closes. Personally I have never been charged by an unwounded beast, but I can testify that the wounded

animal comes very fast. Cuninghame puts the rate at about seven seconds to the hundred yards. Certainly I

should say that a man charged from fifty yards or so would have little chance for a second shot, provided he

missed the first. A hit seemed, in my experience, to the animal, by sheer force of impact, long enough to

permit me to throw in another cartridge. A lioness thus took four frontal bullets starting at about sixty yards.

Here, as can be seen, is a great source of danger to a flurried or nervous beginner. He does not want that lion

to get an inch nearer; he fires at too long a range, misses, and is killed or mauled before he can reload. This

happened precisely so to two young friends of MacMillan. They were armed with doublerifles, let them off

hastily as the beast started at them from two hundred yards, and never got another chance. If they had

possessed the experience to have waited until the lion had come within fifty yards they would have had the

almost certainty of four barrels at close range. Though I have seen a lion missed clean well inside those

>From such performances are socalled lion accidents built. During my stay in Africa I heard of six white

men being killed by lions, and a number of others mauled. As far as possible I tried to determine the facts of

each case. In every instance the trouble followed either foolishness or loss of nerve. I believe I should be

quite safe in saying that from identically the same circumstances any of the good lion menTarleton, Lord

This does not mean that accidents may not happen. Rifles jam, but generally because of flurried

manipulation! One may unexpectedly meet the lion at too close quarters; a foot may slip, or a cartridge prove

defective. So may one fall downstairs or bump one's head in the dark. Sufficient forethought and alertness

The wounded beast, of course, offers the most interesting problem to the lion hunter. If it sees the hunter, it is

likely to charge him at once. If hit while making off, however, it is more apt to take cover. Then one must

summon all his good sense and nerve to get it out. No rules can be given for this; nor am I trying to write a

text book for lion hunters. Any good lion hunter knows a lot more about it than I do. But always a man must

keep in mind three things: that a lion can hide in cover so short that it seems to the novice as though a

jackrabbit would find scant concealment there; that he charges like lightning, and that he can spring about

fifteen feet. This spring, coming unexpectedly from an unseen beast, is about impossible to avoid. Sheer luck

may land a fatal shot; but even then the lion will probably do his damage before he dies. The rush from a

Therefore the wise hunter assures himself of at least twenty feetpreferably moreof neutral zone all about

him. No matter how long it takes, he determines absolutely that the lion is not within that distance. The rest is

As I have said, the amount of cover necessary to conceal a lion is astonishingly small. He can flatten himself

out surprisingly; and his tawny colour blends so well with the brown grasses that he is practically invisible. A

practised man does not, of course, look for lions at all. He is after unusual small patches, especially the black

ear tips or the black of the mane. Once guessed at, it is interesting to see how quickly the hitherto

I should, before passing on to another aspect of the matter, mention the dangerous poisons carried by the

lion's claws. Often men have died from the most trivial surface wounds. The grooves of the claws carry

putrefying meat from the kills. Every sensible man in a lion country carries a small syringe, and either

The great and overwhelming advantage is of course with the hunter. He possesses as deadly a weapon: and

that weapon will kill at a distance. This is proper, I think. There are more lions than hunters; and, from our

point of view, the man is more important than the beast. The game is not too hazardous. By that I mean that,

barring sheer accident, a man is sure to come out all right provided he does accurately the right thing. In other

words, it is a dangerous game of skill, but it does not possess the blind danger of a forest in a hurricane, say.

Furthermore, it is a game that no man need play unless he wants to. In the lion country he may go about his

Such being the case, may I be pardoned for intruding one of my own small ethical ideas at this point, with the

full realization that it depends upon an entirely personal point of view. As far as my own case goes, I consider

it poor sportsmanship ever to refuse a lionchance merely because the advantages are not all in my favour.

After all, lion hunting is on a different plane from ordinary shooting: it is a challenge to war, a deliberate

seeking for mortal combat. Is it not just a little shameful to pot old felis leo at long range, in the open, near

his kill, and wherever we have him at an advantagenine times, and then to back out because that advantage

is for once not so marked? I have so often heard the phrase, "I let him (or them) alone. It was not good

Do not misunderstand. I am not advising that you bull ahead into the long grass, or that alone you open fire

on a half dozen lions in easy range. Kind providence endowed you with strategy, and certainly you should

never go in where there is no show for you to use your weapon effectively. But occasionally the odds will be

against you and you will be called upon to take more or less of a chance. I do not think it is quite square to

quit playing merely because for once your opponent has been dealt the better cards. If here are too many of

them see if you cannot manoeuvre them; if the grass is long, try every means in your power to get them out.

Stay with them. If finally you fail, you will at least have the satisfaction of knowing that circumstances alone

have defeated you. If you do not like that sort of a game, stay out of it entirely.

Nor do the last remarks of the preceding chapter mean that you shall not have your trophy in peace. Perhaps

excitement and a slight doubt as to whether or not you are going to survive do not appeal to you; but

nevertheless you would like a lion skin or so. By all means shoot one lion, or two, or three in the safest

The surest way to get a lion is to kill a zebra, cut holes in him, fill the holes with strychnine, and come back

The next safest way is to follow the quarry with a pack of especially trained dogs. The lion is so busy and

nervous over those dogs that you can walk up and shoot him in the ear. This method has the excitement of

riding and following, the joy of a grand and noisy row, and the fun of seeing a good dogfight. The same

effect can be got chasing warthogs, hyenas, jackalsor jackrabbits. The objection is that it wastes a noble

beast in an inferior game. My personal opinion is that no man is justified in following with dogs any large

animal that can be captured with reasonable certainty without them. The sport of coursing is another matter;

but that is quite the same in essence whatever the size of the quarry. If you want to kill a lion or so quite

safely, and at the same time enjoy a glorious and exciting gallop with lots of accompanying row, by all means

follow the sport with hounds. But having killed one or two by that method, quit. Do not go on and clean up

the country. You can do it. Poison and hounds are the SURE methods of finding any lion there may be about;

and AFTER THE FIRST FEW, one is about as justifiable as the other. If you want the undoubtedly great joy

The third safe method of killing a lion is nocturnal. You lay out a kill beneath a tree, and climb the tree. Or

better, you hitch out a pig or donkey as live bait. When the lion comes to this free lunch, you try to see him;

and, if you succeed in that, you try to shoot him. It is not easy to shoot at night; nor is it easy to see in the

dark. Furthermore, lions only occasionally bother to come to bait. You may roost up that tree many nights

before you get a chance. Once up, you have to stay up; for it is most decidedly not safe to go home after dark.

The tropical night in the highlands is quite chilly. Branches seem to be quite as cramping and abrasive under

Another is to lay out a kill and visit it in the early morning. There is more to this, for you are afoot, must

generally search out your beast in nearby cover, and can easily find any amount of excitement in the process.

The fourth way is to ride the lion. The hunter sees his quarry returning home across the plains, perhaps; or

jumps it from some small bushy ravine. At once he spurs his horse in pursuit. The lion will run but a short

distance before coming to a stop, for he is not particularly long either of wind or of patience. From this stand

he almost invariably charges. The astute hunter, still mounted, turns and flees. When the lion gets tired of

chasing, which he does in a very short time, the hunter faces about. At last the lion sits down in the grass,

waiting for the game to develop. This is the time for the hunter to dismount and to take his shot. Quite likely

To begin with, the hunter at this game generally has companions to back him: often he employs mounted

Somalis to round the lion up and get it to stand. The charging lion is quite apt to make for the conspicuous

mounted menwho can easily escapeignoring the hunter afoot. As the game is largely played in the open,

On the other hand, there is room for mistake. The hunter, for example, should never follow directly in the rear

of his lion, but rather at a parallel course off the beast's flank. Then, if the lion stops suddenly, the man does

not overrun before he can check his mount. He should never dismount nearer than a hundred and fifty yards

from the embayed animal; and should never try to get off while the lion is moving in his direction. Then, too,

a hard gallop is not conducive to the best of shooting. It is difficult to hold the front bead steady; and it is still

more difficult to remember to wait, once the lion charges, until he has come near enough for a sure shot. A

neglect in the inevitable excitement of the moment to remember these and a dozen other small matters may

Two or three men together can make this one of the most exciting mounted games on earth; with enough of

the give and take of real danger and battle to make it worth while. The hunter, however, who employs a

dozen Somalis to ride the beast to a standstill, after which he goes to the front, has eliminated much of the

thrill. Nor need that man's stayathome family feel any excessive uneasiness over Father Killing Lions in

The method that interested me more than any other is one exceedingly difficult to follow except under

favourable circumstances. I refer to tracking them down afoot. This requires that your gunbearer should be an

expert trailer, for, outside the fact that following a softpadded animal over all sorts of ground is a very

difficult thing to do, the hunter should be free to spy ahead. It is necessary also to possess much patience and

to endure under many disappointments. But on the other hand there is in this sport a continuous keen thrill to

be enjoyed in no other; and he who single handed tracks down and kills his lion thus, has well earned the title

And the last method of all is to trust to the God of Chance. The secret of success is to be always ready to take

An occasional hunting story is good in itself: and the following will also serve to illustrate what I have just

We were after that prize, the greater kudu, and in his pursuit had penetrated into some very rough country.

Our hunting for the time being was over broad bench, perhaps four or five miles wide, below a range of

mountains. The bench itself broke down in sheer cliffs some fifteen hundred feet, but one did not appreciate

that fact unless he stood fairly on the edge of the precipice. To all intents and purposes we were on a rolling

grassy plain, with low hills and cliffs, and a most beautiful little stream running down it beneath fine trees.

Up to now our hunting had gained us little beside information: that kudu had occasionally visited the region,

that they had not been there for a month, and that the direction of their departure had been obscure. So we

worked our way down the stream, trying out the possibilities. Of other game there seemed to be a fair supply:

impalla, hartebeeste, zebra, eland, buffalo, warthog, singsing, and giraffe we had seen. I had secured a

wonderful eland and a very fine impalla, and we had had a gorgeous closequarters fight with a cheetah.*

Now C. had gone out, a three weeks' journey, carrying to medical attendance a porter injured in the cheetah

*This animal quite disproved the assertion that cheetahs never assume the aggressive. He charged repeatedly.

We had marched two hours, and were pitching camp under a single tree near the edge of the bench. After

seeing everything well under way, I took the Springfield and crossed the stream, which here ran in a deep

canyon. My object was to see if I could get a singsing that had bounded away at our approach. I did not

The canyon proved unexpectedly deep and rough, and the stream up to my waist. When I had gained the top,

I found grass growing patchily from six inches to two feet high; and small, scrubby trees from four to ten feet

tall, spaced regularly, but very scattered. These little trees hardly formed cover, but their aggregation at

The singsing had evidently found his way over the edge of the bench. I turned to go back to camp. A

duikera small grass antelopebroke from a little patch of the taller grass, rushed, head down headlong after

their fashion, suddenly changed his mind, and dashed back again. I stepped forward to see why he had

They were about thirty yards away, and sat there on their haunches, side by side, staring at me with

expressionless yellow eyes. I stared back. The Springfield is a good little gun, and three times before I had

been forced to shoot lions with it, but my real "lion gun" with which I had done best work was the 405

Winchester. The Springfield is too light for such game. Also there were two lions, very close. Also I was

As the game stood, it hardly looked like my move; so I held still and waited. Presently one yawned, they

This was a different matter. If I had fired while the two were facing me, I should probably have had them

both to deal with. But now that their tails were turned toward me, I should very likely have to do with only

the one: at the crack of the rifle the other would run the way he was headed. So I took a careful bead at the

My aim was to cripple the pelvic bone, but, unfortunately, just as I fired, the beast wriggled lithely sidewise

to pass around a tuft of grass, so that the bullet inflicted merely a slight flesh wound on the rump. She whirled

like a flash, and as she raised her head high to locate me, I had time to wish that the Springfield hit a trifle

The moment she saw me she dropped her head and charged. She was thoroughly angry and came very fast. I

At the shot, to my great relief, she turned bottom up, and I saw her tail for an instant above the grassan

almost sure indication of a bad hit. She thrashed around, and made a tremendous hullabaloo of snarls and

growls. I backed out slowly, my rifle ready. It was no place for me, for the grass was over knee high.

Once at a safe distance I blazed a tree with my hunting knife and departed for camp, well pleased to be out of

it. At camp I ate lunch and had a smoke; then with Memba Sasa and Mavrouki returned to the scene of

trouble. I had now the 405 Winchester, a light and handy weapon delivering a tremendous blow.

We found the place readily enough. My lioness had recovered from the first shock and had gone. I was very

The trail was not very plain, but it could be followed a foot or so at a time, with many faults and casts back. I

walked a yard to one side while the men followed the spoor. Owing to the abundance of cover it was very

nervous work, for the beast might be almost anywhere, and would certainly charge. We tried to keep a neutral

zone around ourselves by tossing stones ahead of and on both sides of our line of advance. My own position

was not bad, for I had the rifle ready in my hand, but the men were in danger. Of course I was protecting

them as well as I could, but there was always a chance that the lioness might spring on them in such a manner

that I would be unable to use my weapon. Once I suggested that as the work was dangerous, they could quit if

We had proceeded thus for half a mile when to our relief, right ahead of us, sounded the commanding,

Instantly Memba Sasa and Mavrouki dropped back to me. We all peered ahead. One of the boys made her out

first, crouched under a bush thirtytwo yards away. Even as I raised the rifle she saw us and charged. I

caught her in the chest before she had come ten feet. The heavy bullet stopped her dead. Then she recovered

and started forward slowly, very weak, but game to the last. Another shot finished her.

The remarkable point of this incident was the action of the little Springfield bullet. Evidently the very high

velocity of this bullet from its shock to the nervous system had delivered a paralyzing blow sufficient to

knock out the lioness for the time being. Its damage to tissue, however, was slight. Inasmuch as the initial

shock did not cause immediate death, the lioness recovered sufficiently to be able, two hours later, to take the

offensive. This point is of the greatest interest to the student of ballistics; but it is curious to even the ordinary

That is a very typical example of finding lions by sheer chance. Generally a man is out looking for the

smallest kind of game when he runs up against them. Now happened to follow an equally typical example of

The next day after the killing of the lioness Memba Sasa, Kongoni and I dropped off the bench, and hunted

greater kudu on a series of terraces fifteen hundred feet below. All we found were two rhino, some singsing,

a heard of impalla, and a tremendous thirst. In the meantime, Mavrouki had, under orders, scouted the

foothills of the mountain range at the back. He reported none but old tracks of kudu, but said he had seen

Therefore, as soon next morning as we could see plainly, we again crossed the canyon and the waistdeep

stream. I had with me all three of the gun men, and in addition two of the most courageous porters to help

About eight o'clock we found the first fresh pad mark plainly outlined in an isolated piece of soft earth.

Immediately we began that most fascinating of gamestrailing over difficult ground. In this we could all take

part, for the tracks were some hours old, and the cover scanty. Very rarely could we make out more than three

successive marks. Then we had to spy carefully for the slightest indication of direction. Kongoni in especial

was wonderful at this, and time and again picked up a broken grass blade or the minutest inchfraction of

disturbed earth. We moved slowly, in long hesitations and castings about, and in swift little dashes forward of

a few feet; and often we went astray on false scents, only to return finally to the last certain spot. In this

manner we crossed the little plain with the scattered shrub trees and arrived at the edge of the low bluff above

This bottom was well wooded along the immediate bank of the stream itself, fringed with low thick brush,

As soon as we had managed to follow without fault to this grass, our difficulties of trailing were at an end.

The lions' heavy bodies had made distinct paths through the tangle. These paths went forward sinuously,

sometimes separating one from the other, sometimes intertwining, sometimes combining into one for a short

distance. We could not determine accurately the number of beasts that had made them.

We slipped along the twisting paths, alert for indications; came to the edge of the thicket, stooped through the

fringe, and descended to the stream under the tall trees. The soft earth at the water's edge was covered with

tracks, thickly overlaid one over the other. The boys felt of the earth, examined, even smelled, and came to

the conclusion that the beasts must have watered about five o'clock. If so, they might be ten miles away, or as

We had difficulty in determining just where the party left this place, until finally Kongoni caught sight of

suspicious indications over the way. The lions had crossed the stream. We did likewise, followed the trail out

of the thicket, into the grass, below the little cliffs parallel to the stream, back into the thicket, across the river

once more, up the other side, in the thicket for a quarter mile, then out into the grass on that side, and so on.

They were evidently wandering, rather idly, up the general course of the stream. Certainly, unlike most cats,

they did not mind getting their feet wet, for they crossed the stream four times.

At last the twining paths in the shoulderhigh grass fanned out separately. We counted.

At the end of each path was a beatendown little space where evidently the beasts had been lying down. With

an exclamation the three gunbearers darted forward to investigate. The lairs were still warm! Their occupants

Not five minutes later we were halted by a low warning growl right ahead. We stopped. The boys squatted on

Of course it would be sheer madness to attack eight lions in grass so high we could not see five feet in front

of us. That went without saying. On the other hand, Mavrouki swore that he had yesterday seen no small cubs

with the band, and our examination of the tracks made in soft earth seemed to bear him out. The chances

were therefore that, unless themselves attacked or too close pressed, the lions would not attack us. By

keeping just in their rear we might be able to urge them gently along until they should enter more open cover.

Therefore we gave the owner of that growl about five minutes to forget it, and then advanced very cautiously.

We soon found where the objector had halted, and plainly read by the indications where he had stood for a

For five hours we hung at the heels of that band of lions, moving very slowly, perfectly willing to halt

whenever they told us to, and going forward again only when we became convinced that they too had gone

on. Except for the first half hour, we were never more than twenty or thirty yards from the nearest lion, and

often much closer. Three or four times I saw slowly gliding yellow bodies just ahead of me, but in the

circumstances it would have been sheer stark lunacy to have fired. Probably six or eight timesI did not

It was very exciting work, but the men never faltered. Of course I went first, in case one of the beasts had the

toothache or otherwise did not play up to our calculations on good nature. One or the other of the gunbearers

was always just behind me. Only once was any comment made. Kongoni looked very closely into my face.

Although I am convinced there was no real danger, as long as we stuck to our plan of campaign, nevertheless

it was quite interesting to be for so long a period so near these great brutes. They led us for a mile or so along

the course of the stream, sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other. Several times they emerged into

better cover, and even into the open, but always ducked back into the thick again before we ourselves had

At noon we were halted by the usual growl just as we had reached the edge of the river. So we sat down on

Finally our chance came. The trail led us, for the dozenth time, from the high grass into the thicket along the

river. We ducked our heads to enter. Memba Sasa, next my shoulder, snapped his fingers violently. Following

the direction of the brown arm that shot over my shoulder, I strained my eyes into the dimness of the thicket.

At first I could see nothing at all, but at length a slight motion drew my eye. Then I made out the silhouette of

a lion's head, facing us steadily. One of the rear guard had again turned to halt us, but this time where he and

Luckily I always use a Sheard gold bead sight, and even in the dimness of the treeshaded thicket it showed

up well. The beast was only forty yards away, so I fired at his head. He rolled over without a sound.

We took the usual great precautions in determining the genuineness of his demise, then carried him into the

open. Strangely enough the bullet had gone so cleanly into his left eye that it had not even broken the edge of

the eyelid; so that when skinned he did not show a mark. He was a very decent maned lion, three feet four

inches at the shoulder, and nine feet long as he lay. We found that he had indeed been the rear guard, and that

the rest, on the other side of the thicket, had made off at the shot. So in spite of the APPARENT danger of the

situation, our calculations had worked out perfectly. Also we had enjoyed a half day's sport of an intensity

In trying to guess how any particular lions may act, however, you will find yourself often at fault. The lion is

a very intelligent and crafty beast, and addicted to tricks. If you follow a lion to a small hill, it is well to go

around that hill on the side opposite to that taken by your quarry. You are quite likely to meet him for he is

clever enough thus to try to get in your rear. He will lie until you have actually passed him before breaking

off. He will circle ahead, then back to confuse his trail. And when you catch sight of him in the distance, you

would never suspect that he knew of your presence at all. He saunters slowly, apparently aimlessly, along

pausing often, evidently too bored to take any interest in life. You wait quite breathlessly for him to pass

behind cover. Then you are going to make a very rapid advance, and catch his leisurely retreat. But the

moment old Leo does pass behind the cover, his appearance of idle stroller vanishes. In a dozen bounds he is

That is what makes lion hunting delightful. There are some regions, very near settlements, where it is perhaps

justifiable to poison these beasts. If you are a true sportsman you will confine your houndhunting to those

districts. Elsewhere, as far as playing fair with a noble beast is concerned, you may as well toss a coin to see

We made our way slowly down the river. As the elevation dropped, the temperature rose. It was very hot

indeed during the day, and in the evening the air was tepid and caressing, and musical with the hum of

insects. We sat about quite comfortably in our pajamas, and took our fifteen grains of quinine per week

The character of the jungle along the river changed imperceptibly, the dhum palms crowding out the other

trees; until, at our last camp, were nothing but palms. The wind in them sounded variously like the patter or

the gathering onrush of rain. On either side the country remained unchanged, however. The volcanic hills

rolled away to the distant ranges. Everywhere grew sparsely the low thornbrush, opening sometimes into

clear plains, closing sometimes into dense thickets. One morning we awoke to find that many supposedly

soberminded trees had burst into blossom fairly over night. They were red, and yellow and white that before

Then we turned sharp to the right and began to ascend a little tributary brook coming down the wide flats

from a cleft in the hills. This was prettily named the Isiola, and, after the first mile or so, was not big enough

to afford the luxury of a jungle of its own. Its banks were generally grassy and steep, its thickets few, and its

little trees isolated in parklike spaces. To either side of it, and almost at its level, stretched plains, but plains

grown with scattered brush and shrubs so that at a mile or two one's vista was closed. But for all its scant ten

feet of width the Isiola stood upon its dignity as a stream. We discovered that when we tried to cross. The

men floundered waistdeep on uncertain bottom; the syces received much unsympathetic comment for their

handling of the animals, and we had to get Billy over by a melodramatic "bridge of life" with B., F., myself,

Then we pitched camp in the open on the other side, sent the horses back from the stream until after dark, in

fear of the deadly tsetse fly, and prepared to enjoy a good exploration of the neighbourhood. Whereupon

M'ganga rose up to his gaunt and terrific height of authority, stretched forth his bony arm at right angles, and

uttered between eight and nine thousand commands in a high dynamic monotone without a single pause for

breath. These, supplemented by about as many more, resulted in (a) a bridge across the stream, and (b) a

A banda is a delightful African institution. It springs from nothing in about two hours, but it takes twenty

boys with a vitriolic M'ganga back of them to bring it about. Some of them carry huge backloads of grass, or

papyrus, or cattail rushes, as the case may be; others lug in poles of various lengths from where their

comrades are cutting them by means of their panga. A panga, parenthetically, is the safari man's substitute for

axe, shovel, pick, knife, sickle, lawnmower, hammer, gatling gun, world's library of classics, higher

mathematics, grand opera, and toothpicks. It looks rather like a machete with a very broad end and a slight

curved back. A good man can do extraordinary things with it. Indeed, at this moment, two boys are with this

apparently clumsy implement delicately peeling some of the small thorn trees, from the bared trunks of which

With these three raw materialspoles, withes, and grassM'ganga and his men set to work. They planted their

corner and end poles, they laid their rafters, they completed their framework, binding all with the tough

withes; then deftly they thatched it with the grass. Almost before we had settled our own affairs, M'ganga was

standing before us smiling. Gone now was his mien of high indignation and swirling energy.

And we moved in our table and our canvas chairs; hung up our water bottles; Billy got out her fancy work.

Nothing could be pleasanter nor more appropriate to the climate than this wide low arbour, open at either end

to the breezes, thatched so thickly that the fierce sun could nowhere strike through.

The men had now settled down to a knowledge of what we were like; and things were going smoothly. At

first the African porter will try it on to see just how easy you are likely to prove. If he makes up his mind that

you really are easy, then you are in for infinite petty annoyance, and possibly open mutiny. Therefore, for a

little while, it is necessary to be extremely vigilant, to insist on minute performance in all circumstances

where later you might condone an omission. For the same reason punishment must be more frequent and

more severe at the outset. It is all a matter of watching the temper of the men. If they are cheerful and willing,

you are not nearly as particular as you would be were their spirit becoming sullen. Then the infraction is not

so important in itself as an excuse for the punishment. For when your men get sulky, you watch vigilantly for

This game always seemed to me very fascinating, when played right. It is often played wrong. People do not

look far enough. Because they see that punishment has a most salutary effect on morale, and is sometimes

efficacious in getting things done that otherwise would lag, they jump to the conclusion that the only

effective way to handle a safari is by penalties. By this I do not at all mean that they act savagely, or punish to

brutal excess. Merely they hold rigidly to the letter of the work and the day's discipline. Because it is

sometimes necessary to punish severely slight infractions when the men's tempers need sweetening, they

And in ordinary circumstances this method undoubtedly results in a very efficient safari. Things are done

smartly, on time, with a snap. The day's march begins without delay; there is a minimum of straggling; on

arrival the tents are immediately got up and the wood and water fetched. But in a tight place, men so handled

by invariable rule are very apt to sit down apathetically, and put the whole thing up to the white man. When it

comes time to help out they are not there. The contrast with a welldisposed safari cannot be appreciated by

The safariman loves a master. He does not for a moment understand any wellmeant but misplaced efforts

on your part to lighten his work below the requirements of custom. Always he will beg you to ease up on

him, to accord him favour; and always he will despise you if you yield. The relations of man to man, of man

to work, are all long since established by immemorial distauricustomand it is not for you or him to change

them lightly. If you know what he should or can do, and hold him rigidly to it, he will respect and follow you.

But in order to keep him up to the mark, it is not always advisable to light into him with a whip, necessary as

the whip often is. If he is sullen, or inclined to make mischief, then that is the crying requirement. But if he is

merely careless, or a little slow, or tired, you can handle him in other ways. Ridicule before his comrades is

very effective: a sort of goodnatured guying, I mean. "Ah! very tired!" uttered in the right tone of voice has

brought many a loiterer to his feet as effectively as the kick some men feel must always be bestowed, and

quite without anger, mind you! For days at a time we have kept our men travelling at good speed by

commenting, as though by the way, after we had arrived in camp, on which tribe happened to come in at the

"Ah! Kavirondos came in first tonight," we would remark. "Last night the Monumwezis were ahead."

And once, actually, by this method we succeeded in working up such a feeling of rivalry that the Kikuyus, the

But the first hint of insubordination, of intended insolence, of willful shirking must be met by instant

authority. Occasionally, when the situation is of the quick and sharp variety, the white man may have to mix

in the row himself. He must never hesitate an instant; for the only reason he alone can control so many is that

he has always controlled them. F. had a very effective blow, or shove, which I found well worth adopting. It

is delivered with the heel of the palm to the man's chin, and is more of a lifting, heaving shove than an actual

blow. Its effect is immediately upsetting. Impertinence is best dealt with in this manner on the spot. Evidently

intended slowness in coming when called is also best treated by a flick of the whipand forgetfulness. And so

with a half dozen others. But any more serious matter should be decided from the throne of the canvas chair,

witness should be heard, judgment formally pronounced, and execution intrusted to the askaris or gunbearers.

It is, as I have said, a most interesting game. It demands three sorts of knowledge: first what a safari man is

capable of doing; second, what he customarily should or should not do; third, an ability to read the actual

intention or motive back of his actions. When you are able to punish or hold your hand on these principles,

and not merely because things have or have not gone smoothly or right, then you are a good safari manager.

As for punishment, that is quite simply the whip. The average writer on the country speaks of this with

hushed voice and averted face as a necessity but as something to be deprecated and passed over as quickly as

possible. He does this because he thinks he ought to. As a matter of fact, such an attitude is all poppycock. In

the flogging of a white man, or a black who suffers from such a punishment in his soul as well as his body,

this is all very well. But the safari man expects it, it doesn't hurt his feelings in the least, it is ancient custom.

As well sentimentalize over necessary schoolboy punishment, or over father paddywhacking little Willie

when little Willie has been a bad boy. The chances are your porter will leap to his feet, crack his heels

together and depart with a whoop of joy, grinning from ear to ear. Or he may draw himself up and salute you,

military fashion, again with a grin. In any case his "soul" is not "scared" a little bit, and there is no sense in

At another slant the justice you will dispense to your men differs from our own. Again this is because of the

teaching long tradition has made part of their mental makeup. Our own belief is that it is better to let two

guilty men go than to punish one innocent. With natives it is the other way about. If a crime is committed the

guilty MUST be punished. Preferably he alone is to be dealt with; but in case it is impossible to identify him,

then all the members of the first inclusive unit must be brought to account. This is the native way of doing

things; is the only way the native understands; and is the only way that in his mind true justice is answered.

Thus if a sheep is stolen, the thief must be caught and punished. Suppose, however it is known to what family

the thief belongs, but the family refuses to disclose which of its members committed the theft: then each

member must be punished for sheep stealing; or, if not the family, then the tribe must make restitution. But

There is an essential justice to recommend this, outside the fact that it has with the native all the solidity of

accepted ethics, and it certainly helps to run the real criminal to earth. The innocent sometimes suffers

innocently, but not very often; and our own records show that in that respect with us it is the same. This is not

the place to argue the right or wrong of the matter from our own standpoint but to recognize the fact that it is

right from theirs, and to act accordingly. Thus in cast of theft of meat, or something that cannot be traced, it is

well to call up the witnesses, to prove the alibis, and then to place the issue squarely up to those that remain.

"I know you did not all steal the meat," you must say, "but I know that one of you did. Unless I know which

Perhaps occasionally you may have to kiboko the lot, in the full knowledge that most are innocent. That

seems hard; and your heart will misgive you. Harden it. The "innocent" probably know perfectly well who

I had intended nowhere to comment on the politics or policies of the country. Nothing is more silly than the

casual visitor's snap judgments on how a country is run. Nevertheless, I may perhaps be pardoned for

suggesting that the Government would strengthen its hand, and aid its few straggling settlers by adopting this

native view of retributions. For instance, at present it is absolutely impossible to identify individual sheep and

cattle stealers. They operate stealthily and at night. If the Government cannot identify the actual thief, it gives

the matter up. As a consequence a great hardship is inflicted on the settler and an evil increases. If, however,

the Government would hold the village, the district, or the tribe responsible, and exact just compensation

from such units in every case, the evil would very suddenly come to an end. And the native's respect for the

Once the safari man gets confidence in his master, that confidence is complete. The white man's duties are in

his mind clearly defined. His job is to see that the black man is fed, is watered, is taken care of in every way.

The ordinary porter considers himself quite devoid of responsibility. He is also an improvident creature, for

he drinks all his water when he gets thirsty, no matter how long and hot the journey before him; he eats his

rations all up when he happens to get hungry, two days before next distribution time; he straggles

outrageously at times and has to be rounded up; he works three months and, on a whim, deserts two days

before the end of his journey, thus forfeiting all his wages. Once two porters came to us for money.

For two months we had been shooting them all the game meat they could eat, but on this occasion two days

had intervened since the last kill. If they had been on trading safari they would have had no meat at all. A

sheep cost six rupees in that country, and they were getting but ten rupees a month as wages. In view of the

circumstances, and for their own good, we refused. Another man once insisted on purchasing a cake of

violetscented soap for a rupee. Their chief idea of a wild time in Nairobi, after return from a long safari, is

to SIT IN A CHAIR and drink tea. For this they pay exorbitantly at the Somali socalled "hotels." It is a

strange sight. But then, I have seen cowboys off the range or lumberjacks from the river do equally

On the other hand they carry their loads well, they march tremendously, they know their camp duties and

they do them. Under adverse circumstances they are goodnatured. I remember C. and I, being belated and

lost in a driving rain. We wandered until nearly midnight. The four or five men with us were loaded heavily

with the meat and trophy of a roan. Certainly they must have been very tired; for only occasionally could we

permit them to lay down their loads. Most of the time we were actually groping, over boulders, volcanic

rocks, fallen trees and all sorts of tribulation. The men took it as a huge joke, and at every pause laughed

In making up a safari one tries to mix in four or five tribes. This prevents concerted action in case of trouble,

for no one tribe will help another. They vary both in tribal and individual characteristics, of course. For

example, the Kikuyus are docile but mediocre porters; the Kavirondos strong carriers but turbulent and

difficult to handle. You are very lucky if you happen on a camp jester, one of the sort that sings, shouts, or

jokes while on the march. He is probably not much as a porter, but he is worth his wages nevertheless. He

may or may not aspire to his giddy eminence. We had one drollfaced little Kavirondo whose very

expression made one laugh, and whose rueful remarks on the harshness of his lot finally ended by being

"Mualo! Mualo!" the men would cry, as they heaved their burdens to their heads; and all day long their war

Of the other type was Sulimani, a big, oneeyed Monumwezi, who had a really keen wit coupled with an

earnest, solemn manner. This man was no buffoon, however; and he was a good porter, always at or near the

head of the procession. In the great jungle south of Kenia we came upon Cuninghame. When the head of our

safari reached the spot Sulimani left the ranks and, his load still aloft danced solemnly in front of

Cuninghame, chanting something in a loud tone of voice. Then with a final deep "Jambo!" to his old master

he rejoined the safari. When the day had stretched to weariness and the men had fallen to a sullen plodding,

Sulimani's vigorous song could always set the safari sticks tapping the sides of the chop boxes.

He carried part of the tent, and the next best men were entrusted with the cook outfit and our personal effects.

It was a point of honour with these men to be the first in camp. The rear, the very extreme and straggling rear,

was brought up by worthless porters with loads of cornmealand the weary askaris whose duty it was to keep

Early one morningwe were still on the Isiolawe set forth on our horses to ride across the rolling,

brushgrown plain. Our intention was to proceed at right angles to our own little stream until we had reached

the forest growth of another, which we could dimly make out eight or ten miles distant. Billy went with us, so

there were four ahorseback. Behind us trudged the gunbearers, and the syces, and after them straggled a

The sun was just up, and the air was only tepid as yet. From patches of high grass whirred and rocketed

grouse of two sorts. They were so much like our own ruffed grouse and prairie chicken that I could with no

effort imagine myself once more a boy in the coverts of the Middle West. Only before us we could see the

stripes of trotting zebra disappearing; and catch the glint of light on the bayonets of the oryx. Two giraffes

galumphed away to the right. Little grass antelope darted from clump to clump of grass. Once we saw

gerenukoh, far away in an impossible distance. Of course we tried to stalk them; and as usual we failed. The

The beast is a gazelle about as big as a blacktailed deer. His peculiarity is his excessively long neck, a good

deal on the giraffe order. With it he crops browse above high tide mark of other animals, especially when as

often happens he balances cleverly on his hind legs. By means of it also he can, with his body completely

concealed, look over the top of ordinary cover and see you long before you have made out his inconspicuous

little head. Then he departs. He seems to have a lamentable lack of healthy curiosity about you. In that

respect he should take lessons from the kongoni. After that you can follow him as far as you please; you will

We remounted sadly and rode on. The surface of the ground was rather soft, scattered with round rocks the

"Cheerful country to ride over at speed," remarked Billy. Later in the day we had occasion to remember that

The plains led us ever on. First would be a band of scattered brush growing singly and in small clumps: then

a little open prairie; then a narrow, long grass swale; then perhaps a low, long hill with small single trees and

rough, volcanic footing. Ten thousand things kept us interested. Game was everywhere, feeding singly, in

groups, in herds, game of all sizes and descriptions. The rounded ears of jackals pointed at us from the grass.

Hundreds of birds balanced or fluttered about us, birds of all sizes from the big ground hornbill to the littlest

hummers and sun birds. Overhead, across the wonderful variegated sky of Africa the broadwinged carrion

hunters and birds of prey wheeled. In all our stay on the Isiola we had not seen a single rhino track, so we

Finally, across a glade, not over a hundred and fifty yards away, we saw a solitary bull oryx standing under a

bush. B. wanted an oryx. We discussed this one idly. He looked to be a decent oryx, but nothing especial.

However, he offered a very good shot; so B., after some hesitation, decided to take it. It proved to be by far

the best specimen we shot, the horns measuring thirtysix and three fourths inches! Almost immediately

after, two of the rather rare striped hyenas leaped from the grass and departed rapidly over the top of a hill.

We opened fire, and F. dropped one of them. By the time these trophies were prepared, the sun had mounted

Accordingly we abandoned that still distant river and swung away in a wide circle to return to camp.

Several minor adventures brought us to high noon and the heat of the day. B. had succeeded in drawing a

prize, one of the Grevy's or mountain zebra. He and the gunbearers engaged themselves with that, while we

sat under the rather scanty shade of a small thorn tree and had lunch. Here we had a favourable chance to

observe that very common, but always wonderful phenomenon, the gathering of the carrion birds. Within five

minutes after the stoop of the first vulture above the carcass, the sky immediately over that one spot was

fairly darkened with them. They were as thick as midgesor as ducks used to be in California. All sizes were

there from the little carrion crows to the great dignified vultures and marabouts and eagles. The small fry

flopped and scolded, and rose and fell in a dense mass; the marabouts walked with dignified pace to and fro

through the grass all about. As far as the eye could penetrate the blue, it could make out more and yet more of

the great soarers stooping with half bent wings. Below we could see uncertainly through the shimmer of the

We ate and waited; and after a little we dozed. I was awakened suddenly by a tremendous rushing roar, like

the sound of a not too distant waterfall. The group of men were plodding toward us carrying burdens. And

like plummets the birds were dropping straight down from the heavens, spreading wide their wings at the last

A wide spot in the shimmer showed black and struggling against the ground. I arose and walked over,

meeting halfway B. and the men carrying the meat. It took me probably about two minutes to reach the place

where the zebra had been killed. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of the great birds were standing idly about; a

dozen or so were flapping and scrambling in the centre. I stepped into view. With a mighty commotion they

all took wing clumsily, awkwardly, reluctantly. A trampled, bloody space and the larger bones, picked

absolutely clean, was all that remained! In less than two minutes the job had been done!

"You're certainly good workmen!" I exclaimed, "but I wonder how you all make a living!"

We started the men on to camp with the meat, and ourselves rested under the shade. The day had been a full

and interesting one; but we considered it as finished. Remained only the hot journey back to camp.

After a half hour we mounted again and rode on slowly. The sun was very strong and a heavy shimmer

clothed the plain. Through this shimmer we caught sight of something large and black and flapping. It looked

like a crowor, better, a scarecrowcrippled, half flying, half running, with waving wings or arms, now

dwindling, now gigantic as the mirage caught it up or let it drop. As we watched, it developed, and we made

it out to be a porter, clad in a long, ragged black overcoat, running zigzag through the bushes in our direction.

The moment we identified it we spurred our horses forward. As my horse leaped, Memba Sasa snatched the

Springfield from my left hand and forced the 405 Winchester upon me. Clever Memba Sasa! He no more

than we knew what was up, but shrewdly concluded that whatever it was it needed a heavy gun.

As we galloped to meet him, the porter stopped. We saw him to be a very longlegged, raggedy youth whom

we had nicknamed the Marabout because of his exceedingly long, lean legs, the fact that his breeches were

white, short and baggy, and because he kept his entire head shaved close. He called himself Fundi, which

He awaited us leaning on his safari stick, panting heavily, the sweat running off his face in splashes.

"Simba!"* said he, and immediately set off on a long, easy lope ahead of us. We pulled down to a trot and

At the end of a half mile we made out a man up a tree. Fundi, out of breath, stopped short and pointed to this

man. The latter, as soon as he had seen us, commenced to scramble down. We spurred forward to find out

Then Billy covered herself with glory by seeing them first. She apprised us of that fact with some excitement.

We saw the long, yellow bodies of two of them disappearing in the edge of the brush about three hundred

Then began a wild ride. Do you remember Billy's remark about the nature of the footing? Before long we

closed in near enough to catch occasional glimpses of the beasts, bounding easily along. At that moment B.'s

horse went down in a heap. None of us thought for a moment of pulling up. I looked back to see B. getting up

again, and thought I caught fragments of encouragingsounding language. Then my horse went down. I

managed to hold my rifle clear, and to cling to the reins. Did you ever try to get on a somewhat demoralized

horse in a frantic hurry, when all your friends were getting farther away every minute, and so lessening your

chances of being in the fun? I began to understand perfectly B.'s remarks of a moment before. However, on I

We dodged in and out of bushes, and around and over holes. Every few moments we would catch a glimpse

of one of those silently bounding lions, and then we would let out a yell. Also every few moments one or the

other of us would go down in a heap, and would scramble up and curse, and remount hastily. Billy had better

luck. She had no gun, and belonged a little in the rear anyway, but was coming along game as a badger for all

My own horse had the legs of the others quite easily, and for that reason I was ahead far enough to see the

magnificent sight of five lions sideways on, all in a row, standing in the grass gazing at me with a sort of

calm and impersonal dignity. I wheeled my horse immediately so as to be ready in case of a charge, and

yelled to the others to hurry up. While I sat there, they moved slowly off one after the other, so that by the

time the men had come, the lions had gone. We now had no difficulty in running into them again. Once more

my better animal brought me to the lead, so that for the second time I drew up facing the lions, and at about

one hundred yards range. One by one they began to leave as before, very leisurely and haughtily, until a

single old maned fellow remained. He, however, sat there, his great round head peering over the top of the

The others arrived, and we all dismounted. B. had not yet killed his lion, so the shot was his. Billy very coolly

came up behind and held his horse. I should like here to remark that Billy is very terrified of spiders. F. and I

Riding fast an exciting mile or so, getting chucked on your head two or three times, and facing your first lion

are none of them conducive to steady shooting. The first shot therefore went high, but the second hit the lion

We all danced a little war dance, and congratulated B. and turned to get the meaning of a queer little gurgling

gasp behind us. There was Fundi! That longlegged scarecrow, not content with running to get us and then

back again, had trailed us the whole distance of our mad chase over broken ground at terrific speed in order to

be in at the death. And he was just about all in at the death. He could barely gasp his breath, his eyes stuck

He did not understand me, but he grinned. The gunbearers began to drift in, also completely pumped. They

set up a feeble shout when they saw the dead lion. It was a good maned beast, three feet six inches at the

We left Fundi with the lion, instructing him to stay there until some of the other men came up. We remounted

Here and there we rode, our courses interweaving, looking eagerly. And lo! through a tiny opening in the

brush we espied one of those elusive gerenuk standing not over one hundred yards away. Whereupon I

dismounted and did some of the worst shooting I perpetrated in Africa, for I let loose three times at him

before I landed. But land I did, and there was one Lesser Hoodoo broken. Truly this was our day.

We measured him and started to prepare the trophy, when to us came Mavrouki and a porter, quite out of

breath, but able to tell us that they had been scouting around and had seen two of the lions. Then, instead of

leaving one up a tree to watch, both had come pellmell to tell us all about it. We pointed this out to them,

and called their attention to the fact that the brush was wide, that lions are not stationary objects, and that,

unlike the leopard, they can change their spots quite readily. However, we remounted and went to take a look.

Of course there was nothing. So we rode on, rather aimlessly, weaving in and out of the bushes and open

spaces. I think we were all a little tired from the long day and the excitement, and hence a bit listless.

Suddenly we were fairly shaken out of our saddles by an angry roar just ahead. Usually a lion growls, low

and thunderous, when he wants, to warn you that you have gone about far enough; but this one was angry all

He crouched near a bush forty yards away, and was switching his tail. I had heard that this was a sure

premonition of an instant charge, but I had not before realized exactly what "switching the tail" meant. I had

thought of it as a slow sweeping from side to side, after the manner of the domestic cat. This lion's tail was

whirling perpendicularly from right to left, and from left to right with the speed and energy of a flail actuated

by a particularly instantaneous kind of machinery. I could see only the outline of the head and this vigorous

We made a detour around the dead lion without stopping to examine him, shouting to one of the men to stay

and watch the carcass. Billy alone seemed uninfected with the now prevalent idea that we were likely to find

lions almost anywhere. Her skepticism was justified. We found no more lions; but another miracle took place

for all that. We ran across the second imbecile gerenuk, and B. collected it! These two were the only ones we

ever got within decent shot of, and they sandwiched themselves neatly with lions. Truly, it WAS our day.

After a time we gave it up, and went back to measure and photograph our latest prize. It proved to be a male,

maneless, two inches shorter than that killed by B., and three feet five and one half inches tall at the shoulder.

Now, toward sunset, we headed definitely toward camp. The long shadows and beautiful lights of evening

were falling across the hills far the other side the Isiola. A little breeze with a touch of coolness breathed

down from distant unseen Kenia. We plodded on through the grass quite happily, noting the different animals

coming out to the cool of the evening. The line of brush that marked the course of the Isiola came

imperceptibly nearer until we could make out the white gleam of the porters' tents and wisps of smoke curling

Then a small black mass disengaged itself from the camp and came slowly across the prairie in our direction.

As it approached we made it out to be our Monumwezis, twenty strong. The news of the lions had reached

them, and they were coming to meet us. They were huddled in a close knot, their heads inclined toward the

centre. Each man carried upright a peeled white wand. They moved in absolute unison and rhythm, on a

slanting zigzag in our direction: first three steps to the right, then three to the left, with a strong stamp of the

foot between. Their bodies swayed together. Sulimani led them, dancing backward, his wand upheld.

And the swaying men responded in chorus, half hushed, rumbling, with strong aspiration.

When fifty yards from us, however, the formation broke and they rushed us with a yell. Our horses plunged

in astonishment, and we had hard work to prevent their bolting, small blame to 'em! The men surrounded us,

shaking our hands frantically. At once they appropriated everything we or our gunbearers carried. One who

got left otherwise insisted on having Billy's parasol. Then we all broke for camp at full speed, yelling like

fiends, firing our revolvers in the air. It was a grand entry, and a grand reception. The rest of the camp poured

out with wild shouts. The dark forms thronged about us, teeth flashing, arms waving. And in the background,

under the shadows of the trees were the Monumwezis, their formation regained, close gathered, heads bent,

two steps swaying to the rightstamp! two steps swaying to the leftstamp!the white wands gleaming, and

We took our hot baths and sat down to supper most gratefully, for we were tired. The long string of men,

bearing each a log of wood, filed in from the darkness to add to our pile of fuel. Saasita and Shamba knelt

and built the night fire. In a moment the little flame licked up through the carefully arranged structure. We

Then out in the blackness beyond our little globe of light we became aware of a dull confusion, a rustling to

and fro. Through the shadows the eye could guess at movement. The confusion steadied to a kind of rhythm,

and into the circle of the fire came the group of Monumwezis. Again they were gathered together in a

compact little mass; but now they were bent nearly double, and were stripped to the red blankets about their

waists. Before them writhed Sulimani, close to earth, darting irregularly now to right, now to left, wriggling,

spreading his arms abroad. He was repeating over and over two phrases; or rather the same phrase in two

"Ka soompeele!" he repeated with the downward inflection of decided affirmation.

And the bent men, their dark bodies gleaming in the firelight, stamping in rhythm every third step, chorused

Thus they advanced; circled between us and the fire, and withdrew to the half darkness, where tirelessly they

Hardly had they withdrawn when another group danced forward in their places. These were the Kikuyus.

They had discarded completely their safari clothes, and now came forth dressed out in skins, in strips of white

cloth, with feathers, shells and various ornaments. They carried white wands to represent spears, and they

sang their tribal lion song. A soloist delivered the main argument in a high wavering minor and was followed

by a deep rumbling emphatic chorus of repetition, strongly accented so that the sheer rhythm of it was most

Solemnly and loftily, their eyes fixed straight before them they made the circle of the fire, passed before our

chairs, and withdrew to the half light. There, a few paces from the stamping, crouching Monumwezis, they

The next to appear were the Wakambas. These were more histrionic. They too were unrecognizable as our

porters, for they too had for the lion discarded their workaday garments in favour of savage. They

produced a pantomime of the day's doings, very realistic indeed, ending with a half dozen of dark swaying

bodies swinging and shuddering in the long grass as lions, while the "horses" wove in and out among the

crouching forms, all done to the beat of rhythm. Past us swept the hunt, and in its turn melted into the half

The Kavirondos next appeared, the most fantastically caparisoned of the lot, fine big black men, their eyes

rolling with excitement. They had captured our flag from its place before the big tent, and were rallied close

about this, dancing fantastically. Before us they leaped and stamped and shook their spears and shouted out

their fullvoiced song, while the other three tribes danced each its specialty dimly in the background.

The dance thus begun lasted for fully two hours. Each tribe took a turn before us, only to give way to the

next. We had leisure to notice minutiae, such as the ingenious tail one of the "lions" had constructed from a

sweater. As time went on, the men worked themselves to a frenzy. From the serried ranks every once in a

while one would break forth with a shriek to rush headlong into the fire, to beat the earth about him with his

club, to rush over to shake one of us violently by the hand, or even to seize one of our feet between his two

palms. Then with equal abruptness back he darted to regain his place among the dancers. Wilder and wilder

became the movements, higher rose the voices. The mock lion hunt grew more realistic, and the slaughter on

both sides something tremendous. Lower and lower crouched the Monumwezi, drawing apart with their deep

"goom"; drawing suddenly to a common centre with the sharp "zoop!" Only the Kikuyus held their lofty

bearing as they rolled forth their chant, but the mounting excitement showed in their tense muscles and the

rolling of their eyes. The sweat glistened on naked black and bronze bodies. Among the Monumwezi to my

astonishment I saw Memba Sasa, stripped like the rest, and dancing with all abandon. The firelight leaped

high among the logs that eager hands cast on it; and the shadows it threw from the swirling, leaping figures

The night guard understood a little of the native languages, so he stood behind our chairs and told us in

We sat there spellbound by the weird savagery of the spectaclethe great licking fire, the dancing, barbaric

figures, the rise and fall of the rhythm, the dust and shuffle, the ebb and flow of the dance, the dim,

At last, fairly exhausted, they stopped. Some one gave a signal. The men all gathered in one group, uttered a

We called up the heroes of the dayFundi and his companionand made a little speech, and bestowed

Fundi, as I have suggested, was built very much on the lines of the marabout stork. He was about twenty

years old, carried himself very erect, and looked one straight in the eye. His total assets when he came to us

were a pair of raggedy white breeches, very baggy, and an old mesh undershirt, ditto ditto. To this we added a

jersey, a red blanket, and a water bottle. At the first opportunity he constructed himself a pair of rawhide

Throughout the first part of the trip he had applied himself to business and carried his load. He never made

trouble. Then he and his companion saw five lions; and the chance Fundi had evidently long been awaiting

came to his hand. He ran himself almost into coma, exhibited himself game, and so fell under our especial

and distinguished notice. After participating wholeheartedly in the lion dance he and his companion were

singled out for Our Distinguished Favour, to the extent of five rupees per. Thus far Fundi's history reads just

Next morning, after the interesting ceremony of rewarding the worthy, we moved on to a new camp. When

the lineup was called for, lo! there stood Fundi, without a load, but holding firmly my doublebarrelled

rifle. Evidently he had seized the chance of favourand the rifleand intended to be no longer a porter but a

This looked interesting, so we said nothing. Fundi marched the day through very proudly. At evening he

deposited the rifle in the proper place, and set to work with a will at raising the big tent.

The day following he tried it again. It worked. The third day he marched deliberately up past the syce to take

his place near me. And the fourth day, as we were going hunting, Fundi calmly fell in with the rest. Nothing

had been said, but Fundi had definitely grasped his chance to rise from the ranks. In this he differed from his

companion in glory. That worthy citizen pocketed his five rupees and was never heard from again; I do not

I killed a buck of some sort, and Memba Sasa, as usual, stepped forward to attend to the trophy. But I stopped

He stepped up confidently and set to work. I watched him closely. He did it very well, without awkwardness,

*Except in the greatest emergencies a gunbearer would never think of carrying any sort of a burden.

This was pleasing, but it would never do, at this stage of the game, to let him think so, neither on his own

"You will bring in meat today also," said I, for I was indeed a little shorthanded, "and you will learn how to

He departed with it, returning it after a time for my inspection. It looked all right. I catechized him on the

method he had employedfor high velocities require very especial treatmentand found him letter perfect.

Next day, as he walked alongside, I noticed that he had not removed the leather cap, or sight protector, that

covers the end of the rifle and is fastened on by a leather thong. Immediately I called a halt.

"Fundi," said I, "do you know that the cover should be in your pocket? Suppose a rhinoceros jumps up very

He thrust the rifle at me suddenly. In some magical fashion the sight cover had disappeared!

"I have thought of this," said he, "and I have tied the thong, so, in order that it come away with one pull; and I

snatch it off, so, with my left hand while I am giving you the gun with my right hand. It seemed good to keep

the cover on, for there are many branches, and the sight is very easy to injure."

Of course this was good sense, and most ingenious; Fundi bade fair to be quite a boy, but the native African

is very easily spoiled. Therefore, although my inclination was strongly to praise him, I did nothing of the sort.

Shortly after occurred an incident by way of deeper test. We were all riding rather idly along the easy slope

below the foothills. The grass was short, so we thought we could see easily everything there was to be seen;

but, as we passed some thirty yards from a small tree, an unexpected and unnecessary rhinoceros rose from

an equally unexpected and unnecessary green hollow beneath the tree, and charged us. He made straight for

Billy. Her mule, panicstricken, froze with terror in spite of Billy's attack with a parasol. I spurred my own

animal between her and the charging brute, with some vague idea of slipping off the other side as the rhino

struck. F. and B. leaped from their own animals, and F., with a little .28 calibre rifle, took a hasty shot at the

big brute. Now, of course a .28 calibre rifle would hardly injure a rhino, but the bullet happened to catch his

right shoulder just as he was about to come down on his right foot. The shock tripped him up as neatly as

though he had been upset by a rope. At the same instant Billy's mule came to its senses and bolted,

whereupon I too jumped off. The whole thing took about two finger snaps of time. At the instant I hit the

Note two things to the credit of Fundi: in the first place, he had not bolted; in the second place, instead of

running up to the left side of my mount and perhaps colliding with and certainly confusing me, he had come

up on the right side and passed the rifle to me ACROSS the horse. I do not know whether or not he had

The rhinoceros rolled over and over, like a shot rabbit, kicked for a moment, and came to his feet. We were

now all ready for him, in battle array, but he had evidently had enough. He turned at right angles and trotted

off, apparentlyand probablynone the worse for the little bullet in his shoulder.

Fundi now began acquiring things that he supposed befitting to his dignity. The first of these matters was a

faded fez, in which he stuck a long feather. From that he progressed in worldly wealth. How he got it all, on

what credit, or with what hypnotic power, I do not know. Probably he hypothecated his wages, certainly he

At any rate he started out with a ragged undershirt and a pair of white, baggy breeches. He entered Nairobi at

the end of the trip with a cap, a neat khaki shirt, two water bottles, a cartridge belt, a sash with a tasseI, a pair

of spiral puttees, an old pair of shoes, and a personal private small boy, picked up en route from some of the

savage tribes, to carry his cooking pot, make his fires, draw his water, and generally perform his lordly

>From now on Fundi considered himself my second gunbearer. I had no use for him, but Fundi's

development interested me, and I wanted to give him a chance. His main fault at first was eagerness. He had

to be rapped pretty sharply and a good number of times before he discovered that he really must walk in the

rear. His habit of calling my attention to perfectly obvious things I cured by liberal sarcasm. His intense

desire to take his own line as perhaps opposed to mine when we were casting about on trail, I abated kindly

but firmly with the toe of my boot. His evident but mistaken tendency to consider himself on an equality with

Memba Sasa we both squelched by giving him the hard and dirty work to do. But his faults were never those

of voluntary omission, and he came on surprisingly; in fact so surprisingly that he began to get quite cocky

over it. Not that he was ever in the least aggressive or disrespectful or neglectfulit would have been easy to

deal with that sort of thingbut he carried his head pretty high, and evidently began to have mental

reservations. Fundi needed a little wholesome discipline. He was forgetting his porter days, and was rapidly

The occasion soon arose. We were returning from a buffalo hunt and ran across two rhinoceroses, one of

which carried a splendid horn. B. wanted a well developed specimen very much, so we took this chance. The

approach was easy enough, and at seventy yards or so B. knocked her flat with a bullet from his .465

Holland. The beast was immediately afoot, but was as promptly smothered by shots from us all. So far the

affair was very simple, but now came complication. The second rhinoceros refused to leave. We did not want

to kill it, so we spent a lot of time and pains shooing it away. We showered rocks and clods of earth in his

direction; we yelled sharply and whistled shrilly. The brute faced here and there, his pig eyes blinking, his

snout upraised, trying to locate us, and declining to budge. At length he gave us up as hopeless, and trotted

away slowly. We let him go, and when we thought he had quite departed, we approached to examine B.'s

Whereupon the other craftily returned; and charged us, snorting like an engine blowing off steam. This was a

genuine premeditated charge, as opposed to a blind rush, and it is offered as a good example of the sort.

The rhinoceros had come fairly close before we got into action. He headed straight for F. and myself, with B.

a little to one side. Things happened very quickly. F. and I each planted a heavy bullet in his head; while B.

sent a lighter Winchester bullet into the ribs. The rhino went down in a heap eleven yards away, and one of us

Personally I was entirely concentrated in the matter at handas is always the way in crises requiring

actionand got very few impressions from anything outside. Nevertheless I imagined, subconsciously that I

had heard four shots. F. and B. disclaimed more than one apiece, so I concluded myself mistaken, exchanged

my heavy rifle with Fundi for the lighter Winchester, and we started for camp, leaving all the boys to attend

to the dead rhinos. At camp I threw down the lever of my Winchesterand drew out an exploded shell!

Here was a double crime on Fundi's part. In the first place, he had fired the gun, a thing no bearer is supposed

ever to do in any circumstances short of the disarmament and actual mauling of his master. Naturally this is

so, for the white man must be able in an emergency to depend ABSOLUTELY on his second gun being

loaded and ready for his need. In the second place, Fundi had given me an empty rifle to carry home. Such a

weapon is worse than none in case of trouble; at least I could have gone up a tree in the latter case. I would

Therefore after supper we stationed ourselves in a row before the fire, seated in our canvas chairs, and with

due formality sent word that we wanted all the gunbearers. They came and stood before us. Memba Sasa

erect, military, compact, looking us straight in the eye; Mavrouki slightly bent forward, his face alive with the

little crafty, calculating smile peculiar to him; Simba, tall and suave, standing with much social ease; and

Fundi, a trifle frightened, but uncertain as to whether or not he had been found out.

"Gunbearers, this man Fundi, when the rhinoceros charged, fired Winchi. Was this the work of a gunbearer?"

The three seasoned men looked at each other with shocked astonishment that such depravity could exist.

"And being frightened, he gave back Winchi with the exploded cartridge in her. Was that the work of a

"You, the gunbearers, have been called because we wish to know what should be done with this man Fundi."

It should be here explained that it is not customary to kiboko, or flog, men of the gunbearer class. They

respect themselves and their calling, and would never stand that sort of punishment. When one blunders, a

sarcastic scolding is generally sufficient; a more serious fault may be punished on the spot by the white man's

fist; or a really bad dereliction may cause the man's instant degradation from the post. With this in mind we

"Bwana," said he, "this man is not a true gunbearer. He is no longer a true porter. He carries a gun in the

field, like a gunbearer; and he knows much of the duty of gunbearer. Also he does not run away nor climb

trees. But he carries in the meat; and he is not a real gunbearer. He is half porter and half gunbearer."

"You a gunbearer!" said we at last. "Memba Sasa says you are half gunbearer. He was wrong. You are all

porter; and you know no more than they do. It is in our mind to put you back to carrying a load. If you do not

So with all ceremony he got the kiboko. The incident did him a lot of good, and toned down his exuberance

somewhat. Nevertheless he still required a good deal of training, just as does a promising bird dog in its first

season. Generally his faults were of overeagerness. Indeed, once he got me thoroughly angry in face of

another rhinoceros by dancing just out of reach with the heavy rifle, instead of sticking close to me where I

could get at him. I temporarily forgot the rhino, and advanced on Fundi with the full intention of knocking his

fool head off. Whereupon this six feet something of most superb and insolent pride wilted down to a small

The whole thing was so comical, especially with Memba Sasa standing by virtuous and scornful, that I had

The proud moment of Fundi's life was when safari entered Nairobi at the end of the first expedition. He had

gone forth with a load on his head, rags on his back, and his only glory was the selfassumed one of the name

he had takenFundi, the Expert. He returned carrying a rifle, rigged from top to toe in new garments and

fancy accoutrements, followed by a toro, or small boy, he had bought from some of the savage tribes to carry

his blanket and cooking pot for him. To the friends who darted out to the line of march, he was gracious, but

I did not take Fundi on my second expedition, for I had no real use for a second gunbearer. Several times

subsequently I saw him on the streets of Nairobi. Always he came up to greet me, and ask solicitously if I

would not give him a job. This I was unable to do. When we paid off, I had made an addition to his porter's

wages, and had written him a chit. This said that the boy had the makings of a gunbearer with further training.

It would have been unfair to possible white employers to have said more. Fundi was, when I left the country,

precisely in the position of any young man who tries to rise in the world. He would not again take a load as

porter, and he was not yet skilled enough or known enough to pick up more than stray jobs as gunbearer.

Before him was struggle and hard times, with a certainty of a highly considered profession if he won through.

Behind him was steady work without outlets for ambition. It was distinctly up to him to prove whether he had

done well to reach for ambition, or whether he would have done better in contentment with his old lot. And

Up to this time, save for a few Masai at the very beginning of our trip, we had seen no natives at all. Only

lately, the night of the lion dance, one of the Wanderobothe forest huntershad drifted in to tell us of buffalo

and to get some meat. He was a simple soul, small and capable, of a beautiful redbrown, with his hair done

up in a tight, short queue. He wore three skewers about six inches long thrust through each of his ears, three

strings of blue beads on his neck, a bracelet tight around his upper arm, a bangle around his ankle, a pair of

rawhide sandals, and about a half yard of cotton cloth which he hung from one shoulder. As weapons he

carried a roundheaded, heavy club, or runga, and a longbladed spear. He led us to buffalo, accepted a

thirtythree cent blanket, and made fire with two sticks in about thirty seconds. The only other evidences of

human life we had come across were a few beehives suspended in the trees. These were logs, bored hollow

and stopped at either end. Some of them were very quaintly carved. They hung in the trees like strange fruits.

Now, however, after leaving the Isiola, we were to quit the game country and for days travel among the

A few preliminary and entirely random observations may be permitted me by way of clearing the ground for

a conception of these people. These observations do not pretend to be ethnological, nor even common logical.

The first thing for an American to realize is that our own negro population came mainly from the West Coast,

and differed utterly from these peoples of the highlands in the East. Therefore one must first of all get rid of

the mental image of our own negro "dressed up" in savage garb. Many of these tribes are not negro at allthe

Somalis, the Nandi, and the Masai, for examplewhile others belong to the negroid and Nilotic races. Their

colour is general cast more on the redbronze than the black, though the Kavirondos and some others are

black enough. The texture of their skin is very satiny and wonderful. This perfection is probably due to the

constant anointing of the body with oils of various sorts. As a usual thing they are a fine lot physically. The

southern Masai will average between six and seven feet in height, and are almost invariably well built. Of

most tribes the physical development is remarkably strong and graceful; and a great many of the women will

display a rounded, firm, highbreasted physique in marked contrast to the blacks of the lowlands. Of the

different tribes possibly the Kikuyus are apt to count the most weakly and spindly examples: though some of

Furthermore, the native differentiates himself still further in impression from our negro in his carriage and the

mental attitude that lies behind it. Our people are trying to pattern themselves on white men, and succeed in

giving a more or less shambling imitation thereof. The native has standards, ideas, and ideals that perfectly

satisfy him, and that antedated the white man's coming by thousands of years. The consciousness of this

reflects itself in his outward bearing. He does not shuffle; he is not either obsequious or impudent. Even when

he acknowledges the white man's divinity and pays it appropriate respect, he does not lose the poise of his

We are fond of calling these people primitive. In the world's standard of measurement they are primitive,

very primitive indeed. But ordinarily by that term, we mean also undeveloped, embryonic. In that sense we

are wrong. Instead of being at the very dawn of human development, these people are at the endas far as

they themselves are concerned. The original racial impulse that started them down the years toward

development has fulfilled its duty and spent its force. They have worked out all their problems, established all

their customs, arranged the world and its phenomena in a philosophy to their complete satisfaction. They

have lived, ethnologists tell us, for thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of years, just as we find them

today. From our standpoint that is in a hopeless intellectual darkness, for they know absolutely nothing of

the most elementary subjects of knowledge. From their standpoint, however, they have reached the highest

DESIRABLE pinnacle of human development. Nothing remains to be changed. Their customs, religions, and

duties have been worked out and immutably established long ago; and nobody dreams of questioning either

their wisdom or their imperative necessity. They are the conservatives of the world.

Nor must we concludelooking at them with the eyes of our own civilizationthat the savage is, from his

standpoint, lazy and idle. His life is laid out more rigidly than ours will be for a great many thousands of

years. From childhood to old age he performs his every act in accord with prohibitions and requirements. He

must remember them all; for ignorance does not divert consequences. He must observe them all; in pain of

terrible punishments. For example, never may he cultivate on the site of a grave; and the plants that spring up

from it must never be cut.* He must make certain complicated offerings before venturing to harvest a crop.

On crossing the first stream of a journey he must touch his lips with the end of his wetted bow, wade across,

drop a stone on the far side, and then drink. If he cuts his nails, he must throw the parings into a thicket. If he

drink from a stream, and also cross it, he must eject a mouthful of water back into the stream. He must be

particularly careful not to look his motherinlaw in the face. Hundreds of omens by the manner of their

happening may modify actions, as, on what side of the road a woodpecker calls, or in which direction a hyena

or jackal crosses the path, how the ground hornbill flies or alights, and the like. He must notice these things,

and change his plans according to their occurrence. If he does not notice them, they exercise their influence

just the same. This does not encourage a distrait mental attitude. Also it goes far to explain otherwise

unexplainable visitations. Truly, as Hobley says in his unexcelled work on the AKamba, "the life of a

savage native is a complex matter, and he is hedged round by all sorts of rules and prohibitions, the

infringement of which will probably cause his death, if only by the intense belief he has in the rules which

*Customs are not universal among the different tribes. I am merely illustrating.

For these rules and customs he never attempts to give a reason. They are; and that is all there is to it. A mere

statement: "This is the custom" settles the matter finally. There is no necessity, nor passing thought even, of

finding any logical cause. The matter was worked out in the mental evolution of remote ancestors. At that

time, perhaps, insurgent and Standpatter, Conservative and Radical fought out the questions of the day, and

the Muckrakers swung by their tails and chattered about it. Those days are all long since over. The questions

of the world are settled forever. The people have passed through the struggles of their formative period to the

ultimate highest perfection of adjustment to material and spiritual environment of which they were capable

Parenthetically, it is now a question whether or not an added impulse can be communicated from without.

Such an impulse must (a) unsettle all the old beliefs, (b) inspire an era of skepticism, (c) reintroduce the old

struggle of ideas between the Insurgent and the Standpatter, and Radical and the Conservative, (d) in the

meantime furnish, from the older civilization, materials, both in the thoughtworld and in the objectworld,

for building slowly a new set of customs more closely approximating those we are building for ourselves.

This is a longer and slower and more complicated affair than teaching the native to wear clothes and sing

hymns; or to build houses and drink gin; but it is what must be accomplished step by step before the African

Now having, a hundred thousand years or so ago, worked out the highest good of the human race, according

to them, what must they say to themselves and what must their attitude be when the white man has come and

has unrolled his carpet of wonderful tricks? The dilemma is evident. Either we, as black men, must admit that

our hundredthousandyearold ideas as to what constitutes the highest type of human relation to

environment is all wrong, or else we must evolve a new attitude toward this new phenomena. It is human

nature to do the latter. Therefore the native has not abandoned his old gods; nor has he adopted a new. He still

believes firmly that his way is the best way of doing things, but he acknowledges the Superman.

To the Superman, with all races, anything is possible. Only our Superman is an idea, and ideal. The native

We will suppose that our own Superman has appeared among us, accomplishing things that apparantly

contravene all our established tenets of skill, of intellect, of possibility. It will be readily acknowledged that

such an individual would at first create some astonishment. He wanders into a crowded hotel lobby, let us

say, evidently with the desire of going to the bar. Instead of pushing laboriously through the crowd, he floats

just above their heads, gets his drink, and floats out again! That is levitation, and is probably just as simple to

him as striking a match is to you and me. After we get thoroughly accustomed to him and his life, we are no

longer vastly astonished, though always interested, at the various manifestations of his extraordinary powers.

We go right along using the marvellous wireless, aeroplanes, motor cars, constructive machinery, and the like

that make us confidentjustly, of coursein that we are about the smartest lot of people on earth. And if we

see red, white, and blue streamers of light crossing the zenith at noon, we do not manifest any very profound

amazement. "There's that confounded Superman again," we mutter, if we happen to be busy. "I wonder what

A consideration of the above beautiful fable may go a little way toward explaining the supposed native

stolidity in the face of the white man's wonders. A few years ago some misguided person brought a balloon to

Nairobi. The balloon interested the white people a lot, but everybody was chiefly occupied wondering what

the natives would do when they saw THAT! The natives did not do anything. They gathered in large

numbers, and most interestedly watched it go up, and then went home again. But they were not stricken with

wonder to any great extent. So also with locomotives, motor cars, telephones, phonographsany of our

modern ingenuities. The native is pleased and entertained, but not astonished. "Stupid creature, no

Why should he be astonished? His mental revolution took place when he saw the first match struck. It is

manifestly impossible for any one to make fire instantaneously by rubbing one small stick. When for the first

time he saw it done, he was indeed vastly astounded. The immutable had been changed. The law had been

transcended. The impossible had been accomplished. And then, as logical sequence, his mind completed the

syllogism. If the white man can do this impossibility, why not all the rest? To defy the laws of nature by

flying in the air or forcing great masses of iron to transport one, is no more wonderful than to defy them by

striking a light. Since the white man can provedly do one, what earthly reason exists why he should not do

This does not necessarily mean that the native looks on the white man as a god. On the contrary, your African

is very shrewd in the reading of character. But indubitably white men possess great magic, uncertain in its

That is as far as I should care to go, without much deeper acquaintance, into the attitude of the native mind

toward the whites. A superficial study of it, beyond the general principals I have enunciated, discloses many

strange contradictions. The native respects the white man's warlike skill, he respects his physical prowess, he

certainly acknowledges tacitly his moral superiority in the right to command. In case of dispute he likes the

white man's adjudication; in case of illness the man's medicine; in case of trouble the white man's sustaining

hand. Yet he almost never attempts to copy the white man's appearance or ways of doing things. His own

savage customs and habits he fulfils with as much pride as ever in their eternal fitness. Once I was badgering

Memba Sasa, asking him whether he thought the white skin or the black skin the more ornamental. "You are

not white," he retorted at last. "That," pointing to a leaf of my notebook, "is white. You are red. I do not like

They call our speech the "snake language," because of its hissing sound. Once this is brought to your

attention, indeed, you cannot help noticing the superabundance of the sibilants.

A queer melange the pigeonholes of an African's brain must containfear and respect, strongly mingled with

clear estimate of intrinsic character of individuals and a satisfaction with his own standards.

Nor, I think, do we realize sufficiently the actual fundamental differences between the African and our

peoples. Physically they must be in many ways as different from our selves as though they actually belonged

to a different species. The Masai are a fine big race, enduring, well developed and efficient. They live

exclusively on cow's milk mixed with blood; no meat, no fruit, no vegetables, no grain; just that and nothing

more. Obviously they must differ from us most radically, or else all our dietetic theories are wrong. It is a

wellknown fact that any native requires a triple dose of white man's medicine. Furthermore a native's

sensitiveness to pain is very much less than the white man's. This is indubitable. For example, the Wakamba

fileor, rather, chip, by means of a small chiselall their front teeth down to needle points, When these

happen to fall out, the warrior substitutes an artificial tooth which he drives down into the socket. If the

savage got the same effects from such a performance that a white man's dental system would arouse, even

"savage stoicism" would hardly do him much good. There is nothing to be gained by multiplying examples.

Incidentally, and by the way, I want to add to the milkandblood joke on dietetics another on the physical

culturists. We are all familiar with the wails over the loss of our toe nails. You know what I mean; they run

somewhat like this: shoes are the curse of civilization; if we wear them much longer we shall not only lose

the intended use of our feet, but we shall lose our toe nails as well; the savage man, etc. , etc. , etc. Now I saw

a great many of said savage men in Africa, and I got much interested in their toe nails, because I soon found

that our own civilized "imprisoned" toe nails were very much better developed. In fact, a large number of the

free and untramelled savages have hardly any toe nails at all! Whether this upsets a theory, nullifies a

sentimental protest, or merely stands as an exception, I should not dare guess. But the fact is indubitable.

Now, one day we left the Isiola River and cut across on a long upward slant to the left. In a very short time

we had left the plains, and were adrift in an ocean of brown grass that concealed all but the bobbing loads

atop the safari, and over which we could only see when mounted. It was glorious feed, apparently, but it

contained very few animals for all that. An animal could without doubt wax fat and sleek therein: but only to

furnish light and salutary meals to beasts of prey. Long grass makes easy stalking. We saw a few ostriches,

some giraffe, and three or four singly adventurous oryx. The ripening grasses were softer than a rippling field

grain; and even more beautiful in their umber and browns. Although apparently we travelled a level,

nevertheless in the extreme distance the plains of our hunting were dropping below, and the far off mountains

were slowly rising above the horizon. On the other side were two very green hills, looking nearly straight up

At length this gentle foothill slope broke over into rougher country. Then, in the pass, we came upon many

parallel beaten paths, wider and straighter than the game trailsnative tracks. That night we camped in a

small, round valley under some glorious trees, with green grass around us; a refreshing contrast after the

desert brown. In the distance ahead stood a big hill, and at its base we could make out amid the treegreen,

We began our next morning's march early, and we dropped over the hill into a wide, cultivated valley. Fields

of grain, mostly rape, were planted irregularly among big scattered trees. The morning air, warming under the

sun, was as yet still, and carried sound well. The cooing, chattering and calling of thousands of birds mingled

with shouts and the clapping together of pieces of wood. As we came closer we saw that every so often

scaffolds had been erected overlooking the grain, and on these scaffolds naked boys danced and yelled and

worked clappers to scare the birds from the crops. They seemed to put a great deal of rigour into the job;

whether from natural enthusiasm or efficient direful supervision I could not say. Certainly they must have

worked in watches, however; no human being could keep up that row continuously for a single day, let alone

the whole season of ripening grain. As we passed they fell silent and stared their fill.

On the banks of a boggy little stream that we had to flounder across we came on a gentleman and lady

travelling. They were a tall, well formed pair, mahogany in colour, with the open, pleasant expression of most

of these jungle peoples. The man wore a string around his waist into which was thrust a small leafy branch;

the woman had on a beautiful skirt made by halving a banana leaf, using the stem as belt, and letting the leaf

part hang down as a skirt. Shortly after meeting these people we turned sharp to the right on a well beaten

For nearly two weeks we were to follow this road, so it may be as well to get an idea of it. Its course was a

segment of about a sixth of the circle of Kenia's foothills. With Kenia itself as a centre, this road swung

among the lower elevations about the base of that great mountain. Its course was mainly down and up

hundreds of the canyons radiating from the main peak, and over the ridges between them. No sooner were we

down, than we had to climb up; and no sooner were we up, than once more down we had to plunge. At times,

however, we crossed considerable plateaus. Most of this country was dense jungle, so dense that we could not

see on either side more than fifteen or twenty feet. Occasionally, atop the ridges, however, we would come

At once, as soon as we had turned into the main road, we began to meet people. In the grain fields of the

valley we saw only the elevated boys, and a few men engaged in weaving a little house perched on stilts. We

came across some of these little houses all completed, with conical roofs. They were evidently used for

granaries. As we mounted the slope on the other side, however, the trees closed in, and we found ourselves

It was a dense and beautiful jungle, with very tall trees and the deepest shade; and the impenetrable tangle to

the edge of the track. Among the trees were the broad leaves of bananas and palms, the fling of leafy vines.

Over the track these leaned, so that we rode through splashing and mottling shade. Nothing could have

seemed wilder than this apparently impenetrable and yet we had ridden but a short distance before we

realized that we were in fact passing through cultivated land. It was, again, only a difference in terms. Native

cultivation in this district rarely consists of clearing land and planting crops in due order, but in leaving the

forest proper as it is, and in planting foodstuffs haphazard wherever a tiny space can be made for even three

hills of corn or a single banana. Thus they add to rather than subtract from the typical density of the jungle.

>From the track narrow little paths wound immediately out of sight. Sometimes we saw a wisp of smoke

rising above the undergrowth and eddying in the tops of the trees. Long vine ropes swung from point to point,

hung at intervals with such matters as feathers, bones, miniature shields, carved sticks, shells and clappers:

either as magic or to keep off the birds. From either side the track we were conscious always of bright black

eyes watching us. Sometimes we caught a glimpse of their owners crouched in the bush, concealed behind

banana leaves, motionless and straight against a tree trunk. When they saw themselves observed they

The upper air was musical with birds, and bright with the flutter of their wings. Rarely did we see them long

enough to catch a fair idea of their size and shape. They flashed from shade to shade, leaving only an

impression of brilliant colour. There were some exceptions: as the widowerbird, dressed all in black, with

long trailing wingplumes of which he seemed very proud; and the various sorts of green pigeons and

parrots. There were many flowering shrubs and trees, and the air was laden with perfume. Strange, too, it

seemed to see tall trees with leaves three or four feet long and half as many wide.

We were riding a mile or so ahead of the safari. At first we were accompanied only by our gunbearers and

This consisted at first of a very wonderful young man, probably a chief's son. He carried a long bright spear,

wore a short sword thrust through a girdle, had his hair done in three wrapped queues, one over each temple

and one behind, and was generally brought to a high state of polish by means of red earth and oil. About his

knee he wore a little bell that jingled pleasingly at every step. From one shoulder hung a goatskin cloak

embroidered with steel beads. A small package neatly done up in leaves probably contained his lunch. He

teetered along with a mincing up and down step, every movement, and the expression of his face displaying a

fatuous selfsatisfaction. When we looked back again this youth had magically become two. Then appeared

two women and a white goat. All except the goat were dressed for visiting, with long chains of beads,

bracelets and anklets, and heavy ornaments in the distended ear lobes. The manner people sprang apparently

out of the ground was very disconcerting. It was a good deal like those fairystory moving pictures where a

wave of the wand produces beautiful ladies. By half an hour we had acquired a long retinueyoung warriors,

old men, women and innumerable children. After we had passed, the new recruits stepped quietly from the

shadow of the jungle and fell in. Every one with nothing much to do evidently made up his mind he might as

Also we met a great number of people going in the other direction. Women were bearing loads of yams.

Chiefs' sons minced along, their spears poised in their left hands at just the proper angle, their bangles

jingling, their right hands carried raised in a most affected manner. Their social ease was remarkable,

especially in contrast with the awkwardness of the lower povertystricken or menial castes. The latter drew

one side to let us pass, and stared. Our chiefs' sons, on the other hand, stepped springingly and beamingly

forward; spat carefully in their hands (we did the same); shook hands all down the line: exchanged a

longdrawn "moooga!" with each of us; and departed at the same springing rapid gait. The ordinary

warriors greeted us, but did not offer to shake hands, thank goodness! There were a great many of them.

Across the valleys and through the open spaces the sun, as it struck down the trail, was always flashing back

from distant spears. Twice we met flocks of sheep being moved from one point to another. Three or four

herdsmen and innumerable small boys seemed to be in charge. Occasionally we met a real chief or headman

of a village, distinguished by the fact that he or a servant carried a small wooden stool. With these dignitaries

These comprised the travelling public. The resident public also showed itself quite in evidence. Once our

retainers had become sufficiently numerous to inspire confidence, the jungle people no longer hid. On the

contrary, they came out to the very edge of the track to exchange greetings. They were very goodnatured,

exceedingly wellformed, and quite jocular with our boys. Especially did our suave and elegant Simba

sparkle. This resident public, called from its daily labours and duties, did not always show as gaudy a

makeup as did the dressedup travelling public. Banana leaves were popular wear, and seemed to us at once

pretty and fresh. To be sure some had rather withered away; but even wool will shrink. We saw some grass

At noon we stopped under a tree by a little stream for lunch. Before long a dozen women were lined up in

front of us staring at Billy with all their might. She nodded and smiled at them. Thereupon they sent one of

their number away. The messenger returned after a few moments carrying a bunch of the small eating

bananas which she laid at our feet. Billy fished some beads out of her saddle bags, and presented them.

Friendly relations having been thus fully established, two or three of the women scurried hastily away, to

return a few moments later each with her small child. To these infants they carefully and earnestly pointed

out Billy and her wonders, talking in a tongue unknown to us. The admonition undoubtedly ran something

"Now, my child, look well at this: for when you get to be a very old person you will be able to look back at

the day when with your own eyes you beheld a white woman. See all the strange things she wearsand

We offered these bungeyed and totally naked youngsters various bribes in the way of beads, the tinfoil from

chocolate, and even a small piece of the chocolate itself. Most of them howled and hid their faces against

their mothers. The mothers looked scandalized, and hypocritically astounded, and mortified.

They made remarks, still in an unknown language, but which much past experience enabled me to translate

"I don't know what has got into little Willie," was the drift of it. "I have never known him to act this way

before. Why, only yesterday I was saying to his father that it really seemed as though that child NEVER

Now at last came two marvellous and magnificent personages before whom the women and children drew

back to a respectful distance. These potentates squatted down and smiled at us engagingly. Evidently this was

a really important couple, so we called up Simba, who knew the language, and had a talk.

They were old men, straight, and very tall, with the hawkfaced, highheaded dignity of the true aristocrat.

Their robes were voluminous, of some shorthaired skins, beautifully embroidered. Around their arms were

armlets of polished buffalo horn. They wore most elaborate ear ornaments, and long cased marquise rings

extending well beyond the first joints of the fingers. Very fine old gentlemen. They were quite unarmed.

After appropriate greetings, we learned that these were the chief and his prime minister of a nearby village

hidden in the jungle. We exchanged polite phrases; then offered tobacco. This was accepted. From the jungle

came a youth carrying more bananas. We indicated our pleasure. The old men arose with great dignity and

We rode on. Our acquired retinue, which had waited at a respectful distance, went on too. I suppose they

must have desired the prestige of being attached to Our Persons. In the depths of the forest Billy succumbed

to the temptation to bargain, and made her first trade. Her prize was a long water gourd strapped with leather

and decorated with cowry shells. Our boys were completely scandalized at the price she paid for it, so I fear

About the middle of the afternoon we sat down to wait for the safari to catch up. It would never do to cheat

our boys out of their anticipated grand entrance to the Government post at Meru. We finally debouched from

the forest to the great clearing at the head of a most impressive procession, flags flying, oryx horns blowing,

boys chanting and beating the sides of their loads with the safari sticks. As there happened to be gathered, at

this time, several thousand of warriors for the purpose of a council, or shauri, with the District Commissioner

The Government post at Meru is situated in a clearing won from the forest on the first gentle slopes of

Kenia's ranges. The clearing is a very large one, and on it the grass grows green and short, like a lawn. It

resembles, as much as anything else, the rolling, beautiful downs of a firstclass country club, and the

illusion is enhanced by the Commissioner's house among some trees atop a hill. Wellkept roadways railed

with rustic fences lead from the house to the native quarters lying in the hollow and to the Government

offices atop another hill. Then also there are the quarters of the Nubian troops; round low houses with conical

These, and the presence everywhere of savages, rather take away from the first countryclub effect. A corral

seemed full of a seething mob of natives; we found later that this was the market, a place of exchange.

Groups wandered idly here and there across the greensward; and other groups sat in circles under the shade of

trees, each man's spear stuck in the ground behind him. At stated points were the Nubians, fine, tall, black,

soldierly men, with red fez, khaki shirt, and short breeches, bare knees and feet, spiral puttees, and a broad

red sash of webbing. One of these soldiers assigned us a place to camp. We directed our safari there, and then

The latter, Horne by name, greeted us with the utmost cordiality, and offered us cool drinks. Then we

Horne was a little chap, dressed in flannels and a big slouch hat, carrying only a light rawhide whip, with

very little of the dignity and "side" usually considered necessary in dealing with wild natives. The post at

Meru had been established only two years, among a people that had always been very difficult, and had only

recently ceased open hostilities. Nevertheless in that length of time Horne's personal influence had won them

over to positive friendliness. He had, moreover, done the entire construction work of the post itself; and this

we now saw to be even more elaborate than we had at first realized. Irrigating ditches ran in all directions

brimming with clear mountain water; the roads and paths were rounded, graded and gravelled; the houses

were substantial, well built and well kept; fences, except of course the rustic, were whitewashed; the native

quarters and "barracks" were well ranged and in perfect order. The place looked ten years old instead of only

We followed Horne to an enclosure, outside the gate of which were stacked a great number of spears. Inside

we found the owners of those spears squatted before the open side of a small, threewalled building

containing a table and a chair. Horne placed himself in the chair, lounged back, and hit the table smartly with

his rawhide whip. From the centre of the throng an old man got up and made quite a long speech. When he

had finished another did likewise. All was carried out with the greatest decorum. After four or five had thus

spoken, Horne, without altering his lounging attitude, spoke twenty or thirty words, rapped again on the table

That was amusing, but not astonishing. Most of us have at one time or another laid out a scratch hole or so

somewhere in the vacant lot. We returned to the house, Horne produced a sufficiency of clubs, and we sallied

forth. Then came the surprise of our life! We played eighteen holeseighteen, mind youover an excellently

laidout and keptup course! The fair greens were cropped short and smooth by a wellmanaged small herd

of sheep; the putting greens were rolled, and in perfect order; bunkers had been located at the correct

distances; there were water hazards in the proper spots. In short, it was a genuine, scientific, wellkept golf

course. Over it played Horne, solitary except on the rare occasions when he and his assistant happened to be

at the post at the same time. The nearest white man was six days' journey; the nearest small civilization 196

Our caddies were grinning youngsters a good deal like the Gold Dust Twins. They wore nothing but our golf

bags. Afield were other supernumerary caddies: one in case we sliced, one in case we pulled, and one in case

we drove straight ahead. Horne explained that unlimited caddies were easier to get than unlimited golf balls. I

F. joined forces with Horne against B. and me for a grand international match. I regret to state that America

We returned to find our camp crowded with savages. In a short time we had established trade relations and

were doing a brisk business. Two years before we should have had to barter exclusively; but now, thanks to

Horne's attempt to collect an annual hut tax, money was some good. We had, however, very good luck with

bright blankets and cotton cloth. Our beads did not happen here to be in fashion. Probably three months

earlier or later we might have done better with them. The feminine mind here differs in no basic essential

from that of civilization. Fashions change as rapidly, as often and as completely in the jungle as in Paris. The

trader who brings blue beads when blue beads have "gone out" might just as well have stayed at home. We

bought a number of the pretty "marquise" rings for four cents apiece (our money), some war clubs or rungas

for the same, several spears, armlets, stools and the like. Billy thought one of the short, soft skin cloaks

embroidered with steel beads might be nice to hang on the wall. We offered a youth two rupees for one. This

must have been a high price, for every man in hearing of the words snatched off his cloak and rushed forward

holding it out. As that reduced his costume to a few knickknacks, Billy retired from the busy mart until we

We dined with Horne. His official residence was most interesting. The main room was very high to beams

and a grassthatched roof, with a wellbrushed earth floor covered with mats. It contained comfortable

furniture, a small library, a good phonograph, tables, lamps and the like. When the mountain chill descended,

Horne lit a fire in a coaloil can with a perforated bottom. What little smoke was produced by the clean

burning wood lost itself far aloft. Leopard skins and other trophies hung on the wall. We dined in another

room at a wellappointed table. After dinner we sat up until the unheard of hour of ten o'clock discussing at

length many matters that interested us. Horne told us of his personal bodyguard consisting of one son from

each chief of his wide district. These youths were encouraged to make as good an appearance as possible, and

as a consequence turned out in the extreme of savage gorgeousness. Horne spoke of them carelessly as a

"matter of policy in keeping the different tribes well disposed," but I thought he was at heart a little proud of

them. Certainly, later and from other sources, we heard great tales of their endurance, devotion and

efficiency. Also we heard that Horne had cut in half his six months' leave (earned by three years' continuous

service in the jungle) to hurry back from England because he could not bear the thought of being absent from

We said goodnight to him and stepped from the lighted house into the vast tropical night. The little rays of

our lantern showed us the inequalities of the ground, and where to step across the bubbling, little irrigation

streams. But thousands of stars insisted on a simplification. The broad, rolling meadows of the clearing lay

half guessed in the dim light; and about its edge was the velvet band of the forest, dark and mysterious,

stretching away for leagues into the jungle. From it near at hand, far away, came the rhythmic beating of

We left Meru well observed by a very large audience, much to the delight of our safari boys, who love to

show off. We had acquired fourteen more small boys, or totos, ranging in age from eight to twelve years.

These had been fitted out by their masters to alleviate their original shenzi appearance of savagery. Some had

ragged blankets, which they had already learned to twist turban wise around their heads; others had ragged

old jerseys reaching to their knees, or the wrecks of fullgrown undershirts; one or two even sported baggy

breeches a dozen sizes too large. Each carried his little load, proudly, atop his head like a real porter, sufurias

or cooking pots, the small bags of potio, and the like. Inside a mile they had gravitated together and with the

small boy's relish for imitation and for playing a game, had completed a miniature safari organization of their

own. Thenceforth they marched in a compact little company, under orders of their "headman." They marched

very well, too, straight and proud and tireless. Of course we inspected their loads to see that they were not

required to carry too much for their strength; but, I am bound to say, we never discovered an attempt at

overloading. In fact, the toto brigade was treated very well indeed. M'ganga especially took great interest in

their education and welfare. One of my most vivid camp recollections is that of M'ganga, very benign and

didactic, seated on a chop box and holding forth to a semicircle of totos squatted on the ground before him.

On reaching camp totos had several clearly defined duties: they must pick out good places for their masters'

individual camps, they must procure cooking stones, they must collect kindling wood and start fires, they

must fill the sufurias with water and set them over to boil. In the meantime, their masters were attending to

the pitching of the bwana's camp. The rest of the time the toto played about quite happily, and did light odd

jobs, or watched most attentively while his master showed him small details of a safariboy's duty, or taught

him simple handicraft. Our boys seemed to take great pains with their totos and to try hard to teach them.

Also at Meru we had acquired two cocks and four hens of the ridiculously small native breed. These rode

atop the loads: their feet were tied to the cords and there they swayed and teetered and balanced all day long,

apparently quite happy and interested. At each new camp site they were released and went scratching and

clucking around among the tents. They lent our temporary quarters quite a settled air of domesticity. We

named the cocks Gaston and Alphonse and somehow it was rather fine, in the blackness before dawn, to hear

these little birds crowing stoutheartedly against the great African wilderness. Neither Gaston, Alphonse nor

any of their harem were killed and eaten by their owners; but seemed rather to fulfil the function of household

Along the jungle track we met swarms of people coming in to the post. One large native safari composed

exclusively of women were transporting loads of trade goods for the Indian trader. They carried their burdens

on their backs by means of a strap passing over the top of the head; our own "tump line" method. The labour

seemed in no way to have dashed their spirits, for they grinned at us, and joked merrily with our boys. Along

the way, every once in a while, we came upon people squatted down behind small stocks of sugarcane, yams,

bananas, and the like. With these our boys did a brisk trade. Little paths led mysteriously into the jungle.

Down them came more savages to greet us. Everybody was most friendly and cheerful, thanks to Horne's

personal influence. Two years before this same lot had been hostile. From every hidden village came the

headmen or chiefs. They all wanted to shake handsthe ordinary citizen never dreamed of aspiring to that

honourand they all spat carefully into their palms before they did so. This all had to be done in passing; for

ordinary village headmen it was beneath Our Dignity to draw rein. Once only we broke over this rule. That

was in the case of an old fellow with white hair who managed to get so tangled up in the shrubbery that he

could not get to us. He was so frantic with disappointment that we made an exception and waited.

About three miles out, we lost one of our newly acquired totos. Reason: an exasperated parent who had

followed from Meru for the purpose of reclaiming his runaway offspring. The latter was dragged off howling.

Evidently he, like some of his civilized cousins, had "run away to join the circus." As nearly as we could get

at it, the rest of the totos, as well as the nine additional we picked up before we quitted the jungle, had all

come with their parents' consent. In fact, we soon discovered that we could buy any amount of good sound

totos, not house broke however, for an average of half a rupee (161/2 cents) apiece.

The road was very much up and down hill over the numerous ridges that starfish out from Mt. Kenia. We

would climb down steep trails from 200 to 800 feet (measured by aneroid), cross an excellent mountain

stream of crystalline dashing water, and climb out again. The trails of course had no notion of easy grades. It

was very hard work, especially for men with loads; and it would have been impossible on account of the heat

were it not for the numerous streams. On the slopes and in the bottoms were patches of magnificent forest; on

the crests was the jungle, and occasionally an outlook over extended views. The birds and the strange tropical

bigleaved trees were a constant delightexotic and strange. Billy was in a heaven of joy, for her specialty in

Africa was plants, seeds and bulbs, for her California garden. She had syces, gunbearers and tent boys all

This idiosyncracy of Billy's puzzled our boys hugely. At first they tried telling her that everything was

poisonous; but when that did not work, they resigned themselves to their fate. In fact, some of the most

enterprising like Memba Sasa, Kitaru, and, later, Kongoni used of their own accord to hunt up and bring in

seeds and blossoms. They did not in the least understand what it was for; and it used to puzzle them hugely

until out of sheer pity for their uneasiness, I implied that the Memsahib collected "medicine." That was

rational, so the wrinkled brow of care was smoothed. From this botanical trait, Billy got her native name of

"Beebee Kooletta""The Lady Who Says: Go Get That." For in Africa every white man has a name by which

he is known among the native people. If you would get news of your friends, you must know their local

cognomenstheir own white man names will not do at all. For example, I was called either Bwana

Machumwani or Bwana N'goma. The former means merely Master Foureyes, referring to my glasses. The

precise meaning of the latter is a matter much disputed between myself and Billy. An N'goma is a native

dance, consisting of drum poundings, chantings, and hoppings around. Therefore I translate myself (most

appropriately) as the Master who Makes Merry. On the other hand, Billy, with true feminine indirectness,

insists that it means "The Master who Shouts and Howls." I leave it to any fairminded reader.

About the middle of the morning we met a Government runner, a proud youth, young, lithe, with many

ornaments and bangles; his red skin glistening; the long blade of his spear, bound around with a red strip to

signify his office, slanting across his shoulder; his buffalo hide shield slung from it over his back; the letter he

was bearing stuck in a cleft stick and carried proudly before him as a priest carries a cross to the heathenin

the pictures. He was swinging along at a brisk pace, but on seeing us drew up and gave us a smart military

At one point where the path went level and straight for some distance, we were riding in an absolute solitude.

Suddenly from the jungle on either side and about fifty yards ahead of us leaped a dozen women. They were

dressed in grass skirts, and carried long narrow wooden shields painted white and brown. These they clashed

together, shrieked shrilly, and charged down on us at full speed. When within a few yards of our horses noses

they came to a sudden halt, once more clashed their shields, shrieked, turned and scuttled away as fast as their

legs could carry them. At a hundred yards they repeated the performance; and charged back at us again. Thus

advancing and retreating, shrieking high, hitting the wooden shields with resounding crash, they preceded our

slow advance for a half mile or so. Then at some signal unperceived by us they vanished abruptly into the

jungle. Once more we rode forward in silence and in solitude. Why they did it I could not say.

Of this tissue were our days made. At noon our boys plucked us each two or three banana leaves which they

spread down for us to lie on. Then we dozed through the hot hours in great comfort, occasionally waking to

blue sky through green trees, or to peer idly into the tangled jungle. At two o'clock or a little later we would

arouse ourselves reluctantly and move on. The safari we had dimly heard passing us an hour before. In this

The end of the day's march found us in a little clearing where we could pitch camp. Generally this was atop a

ridge, so that the boys had some distance to carry water; but that disadvantage was outweighed by the cleared

space. Sometimes we found ourselves hemmed in by a wall of jungle. Again we enjoyed a broad outlook.

One such in especial took in the magnificent, splintered, snowcapped peak of Kenia on the right, a

tremendous gorge and rolling forested mountains straight ahead, and a great drop to a plain with other and

distant mountains to the left. It was as fine a panoramic view as one could imagine.

Our tents pitched, and ourselves washed and refreshed, we gave audience to the resident chief, who had

probably been waiting. With this potentate we conversed affably, after the usual expectoratorial ceremonies.

Billy, being a mere woman, did not always come in for this; but nevertheless she maintained what she called

her "quarantine gloves," and kept them very handy. We had standing orders with our boys for basins of hot

water to be waiting always behind our tents. After the usual polite exchanges we informed the chief of our

needsfirewood, perhaps, milk, a sheep or the like. These he furnished. When we left we made him a present

of a few beads, a knife, a blanket or such according to the value of his contribution.

To me these encounters were some of the most interesting of our many experiences, for each man differed

radically from every other in his conceptions of ceremony, in his ideas, and in his methods. Our coming was

a good deal of an event, always, and each chief, according to his temperament and training, tried to do things

up properly. And in that attempt certain basic traits of human nature showed in the very strongest relief. Thus

there are three points of view to take in running any spectacle: that of the star performer, the stage manager,

or the truly artistic. We encountered wellmarked specimens of each. I will tell you about them.

The star performer knew his stagecraft thoroughly; and in the exposition of his knowledge he showed

We were seated under a tree near the banks of a stream eating our lunch. Before us appeared two tall and

slender youths, wreathed in smiles, engaging, and most attentive to the small niceties of courtesy. We

returned their greeting from our recumbent positions, whereupon they made preparation to squat down beside

"Are you sultans?" we demanded sternly, "that you attempt to sit in Our Presence," and we lazily kicked the

Not at all abashed, but favourably impressed with our transcendent importanceas we intendedthey leaned

gracefully on their spears and entered into conversation. After a few trifles of airy persiflage they got down to

"This," said they, indicating the tiny flat, "is the most beautiful place to camp in all the mountains."

"And near is the village of our chief, who is a great warrior, and will bring you many presents; the greatest

"Now you're getting to it," we observed in English; "you want trade." Then in Swahili, "We shall march two

After a few polite phrases they went away. We finished lunch, remounted, and rode up the trail. At the edge

of the canyon we came to a wide clearing, at the farther side of which was evidently the village in question.

But the merry villagers, down to the last toro, were drawn up at the edge of the track in a double line through

which we rode. They were very wealthy savages, and wore it all. Bright neck, arm, and leg ornaments, yards

and yards of cowry shells in strings, blue beads of all sizes (blue beads were evidently "in"), odd scraps and

shapes of embroidered skins, clean shaves and a beautiful polish characterized this holiday gathering. We

made our royal progress between the serried ranks. About eight or ten seconds after we had passed the last

villagerjust the proper dramatic pause, you observethe bushes parted and a splendid, straight, springy

young man came into view and stepped smilingly across the space that separated us. And about eight or ten

seconds after his emergenceagain just the right dramatic pausethe bushes parted again to give entrance to

four of the quaintest little dolls of wives. These advanced all abreast, parted, and took up positions two either

side the smiling chief. This youth was evidently in the height of fashion, his hair braided in a tight queue

bound with skin, his ears dangling with ornaments, heavy necklaces around his neck, and armlets etc., ad lib.

His robe was of fine monkey skin embroidered with rosettes of beads, and his spear was very long, bright and

keen. He was tall and finely built carried himself with a free, lithe swing. As the quintette came to halt, the

We replied that they seemed like excellent beebees and politely inquired the price of wives thereabout, and

also the market for totos. He gave us to understand that such superior wives as these brought three cows and

twenty sheep apiece, but that you could get a pretty good toto for half a rupee.

"When we look upon our women," he concluded grandly, "we find them good; but when we look upon the

white women they are as nothing!" He completely obliterated the poor little beebees with a magnificent

gesture. They looked very humble and abashed. I was, however, a bit uncertain as to whether this was

intended as a genuine tribute to Billy, or was meant to console us for having only one to his four.

Now observe the stagecraft of all this: entrance of diplomats, preliminary conversation introducing the idea of

the greatness of N'Zahgi (for that was his name), chorus of villagers, and, as climax, dramatic entrance of the

Again we stopped about the middle of the afternoon in an opening on the rounded top of a hill. While waiting

for the safari to come up, Billy wandered away fifty or sixty yards to sit under a big tree. She did not stay

long. Immediately she was settled, a dozen women and young girls surrounded her. They were almost

uproariously goodnatured, but Billy was probably the first white woman they had ever seen, and they

intended to make the most of her. Every item of her clothes and equipment they examined minutely, handled

and discussed. When she told them with great dignity to go away, they laughed consumedly, fairly tumbling

into each other's arms with excess of joy. Billy tried to gather her effects for a masterly retreat, but found the

press of numbers too great. At last she had to signal for help. One of us wandered over with a kiboko with

which lightly he flicked the legs of such damsels as he could reach. They scattered like quail, laughing

Shortly after the Chief and his Prime Minister came in. He was a little old grayhaired gentleman, as spry as

a cricket, quite nervous, and very chatty. We indicated our wants to him, and he retired after enunciating

many words. The safari came in, made camp. We had tea and a bath. The darkness fell; and still no Chief, no

milk, no firewood, no promises fulfilled. There were plenty of natives around camp, but when we suggested

that they get out and rustle on our behalf, they merely laughed goodnaturedly. We seriously contemplated

Finally we gave it up, and sat down to our dinner. It was now quite dark. The askaris had built a little

Then, far in the distance of the jungle's depths, we heard a faint measured chanting as of many people coming

nearer. From another direction this was repeated. The two processions approached each other; their paths

converged; the double chanting became a chorus that grew moment by moment. We heard beneath the wild

weird minors the rhythmic stamping of feet, and the tapping of sticks. The procession debouched from the

jungle's edge into the circle of the firelight. Our old chief led, accompanied by a bodyguard in all the panoply

of war: ostrich feather circlets enclosing the head and face, shields of bright heraldry, long glittering spears.

These were followed by a dozen of the quaintest solemn dolls of beebees dressed in all the white cowry

shells, beads and brass the royal treasury afforded, very earnest, very much on inspection, every little head

uplifted, singing away just as hard as ever they could. Each carried a gourd of milk, a bunch of bananas, some

sugarcane, yams or the like. Straight to the fire marched the pageant. Then the warriors dividing right and

left, drew up facing each other in two lines, struck their spears upright in the ground, and stood at attention.

The quaint brown little women lined up to close the end of this hollow square, of which our group was,

roughly speaking, the fourth side. Then all came to attention. The song now rose to a wild and ecstatic minor

chanting. The beebees, still singing, one by one cast their burdens between the files and at our feet in the

middle of the hollow square. Then they continued their chant, singing away at the tops of their little lungs,

their eyes and teeth showing, their pretty bodies held rigidly upright. The warriors, very erect and military,

And the chief? Was he the centre of the show, the important leading man, to the contemplation of whom all

these glories led? Not at all! This particular chief did not have the soul of a leading man, but rather the soul of

a stage manager. Quite forgetful of himself and his part in the spectacle, his brow furrowed with anxiety, he

was flittering from one to another of the performers. He listened carefully to each singer in turn, holding his

hand behind his ear to catch the individual note, striking one on the shoulder in admonition, nodding approval

at another. He darted unexpectedly across to scrutinize a warrior, in the chance of catching a flicker of the

eyelid even. Nary a flicker! They did their stage manager credit, and stood like magnificent bronzes. He even

With a sudden crescendo the music stopped. Involuntarily we broke into handclapping. The old boy looked a

bit startled at this, but we explained to him, and he seemed very pleased. We then accepted formally the heap

of presents, by touching themand in turn passed over a blanket, a box of matches, and two needles, together

with beads for the beebees. Then F., on an inspiration, produced his flashlight. This made a tremendous

sensation. The women tittered and giggled and blinked as its beams were thrown directly into their eyes; the

chief's sons grinned and guffawed; the chief himself laughed like a pleased schoolboy, and seemed never to

weary of the sudden shutting on and off of the switch. But the trusty Spartan warriors, standing still in their

formation behind their planted spears, were not to be shaken. They glared straight in front of them, even

when we held the light within a few inches of their eyes, and not a muscle quivered!

"It is wonderful! wonderful!" the old man repeated. "Many Government men have come here, but none have

After the departure of our friends, we went rather grandly to bed. We always did after any one had called us

But our prize chief was an individual named M'booley.* Our camp here also was on a fine cleared hilltop

between two streams. After we had traded for a while with very friendly and prosperous people M'booley

came in. He was young, tall, straight, with a beautiful smooth lithe form, and his face was hawklike and

cleverly intelligent. He carried himself with the greatest dignity and simplicity, meeting us on an easy plane

of familiarity. I do not know how I can better describe his manner toward us than to compare it to the manner

the member of an exclusive golf club would use to one who is a stranger, but evidently a guest. He took our

quality for granted; and supposed we must do the same by him, neither acting as though he considered us

"great white men," nor yet standing aloof and too respectful. And as the distinguishing feature of all, he was

Pause for a moment to consider what a real advance in esthetic taste that one little fact stands for. All

M'booley's attendants were the giddiest and gaudiest savages we had yet seen, with more colobus fur,

sleighbells, polished metal, ostrich plumes, and red paint than would have fitted out any two other royal

courts of the jungle. The women too were wealthy and opulent without limit. It takes considerable perception

among our civilized people to realize that severe simplicity amid ultra magnificence makes the most effective

distinguishing of an individual. If you do not believe it, drop in at the next ball to which you are invited.

M'booley had fathomed this, and what was more he had the strength of mind to act on it. Any savage loves

finery for its own sake. His hair was cut short, and shaved away at the edges to leave what looked like an

ordinary closefitting skull cap. He wore one pair of plain armlets on his left upper arm and small simple

earrings. His robe was black. He had no trace of either oil or paint, nor did he even carry a spear.

He greeted us with goodhumoured ease, and inquired conversationally if we wanted anything. We suggested

wood and milk, whereupon still smiling, he uttered a few casual words in his own language to no one in

particular. There was no earthly doubt that he was chief. Three of the most gorgeous and haughty warriors

ran out of camp. Shortly long files of women came in bringing loads of firewood; and others carrying

bananas, yams, sugarcane and a sheep. Truly M'booley did things on a princely scale. We thanked him. He

accepted the thanks with a casual smile, waved his hand and went on to talk of something else. In due order

our M'ganga brought up one of our best trade blankets, to which we added a half dozen boxes of matches and

Now into camp filed a small procession: four women, four children, and two young men. These advanced to

where M'booley was standing smoking with great satisfaction one of B's tailormade cigarettes. M'booley

advanced ten feet to meet them, and brought them up to introduce them one by one in the most formal

fashion. These were of course his family, and we had to confess that they "saw" N'Zahgi's outfit of ornaments

and "raised" him beyond the ceiling. We gave them each in turn the handshake of ceremony, first with the

palms as we do it, and then each grasping the other's upright thumb. The "little chiefs" were proud,

aristocratic little fellows, holding themselves very straight and solemn. I think one would have known them

It was quite a social occasion. None of our guests was in the least ill at ease; in fact, the young ladies were

quite coy and flirtatious. We had a great many jokes. Each of the little ladies received a handful of prevailing

beads. M'booley smiled benignly at these delightful femininities. After a time he led us to the edge of the hill

and showed us his houses across the cation, perched on a flat about halfway up the wall. They were of the

usual grassthatched construction, but rather larger and neater than most. Examining them through the

glasses we saw that a little stream had been diverted to flow through the front yard. M'booley waved his hand

abroad and gave us to understand that he considered the outlook worth looking at. It was; but an appreciation

of that fact is foreign to the average native. Next morning, when we rode by very early, we found the little

flat most attractively cleared and arranged. M'booley was out to shake us by the hand in farewell, shivering in

the cold of dawn. The flirtatious and spoiled little beauties were not in evidence.

One day after two very deep canyons we emerged from the forest jungle into an up and down country of high

jungle bushbrush. >From the top of a ridge it looked a good deal like a northern cutover pine country

grown up very heavily to blackberry vines; although, of course, when we came nearer, the "blackberry vines"

proved to be ten or twenty feet high. This was a district of which Horne had warned us. The natives herein

were reported restless and semihostile; and in fact had never been friendly. They probably needed the

demonstration most native tribes seem to require before they are content to settle down and be happy. At any

rate safaris were not permitted in their district; and we ourselves were allowed to go through merely because

we were a large party, did not intend to linger, and had a good reputation with natives.

It is very curious how abruptly, in Central Africa, one passes from one condition to another, from one tribe or

race to the next. Sometimes, as in the present case, it is the traversing of a deep cation; at others the simple

crossing of a tiny brook is enough. Moreover the line of demarcation is clearly defined, as boundaries

Thus we smiled our goodbye to a friendly numerous people, descended a hill, and ascended another into a

deserted track. After a half mile we came unexpectedly on to two men carrying each a load of reeds. These

they abandoned and fled up the hillside through the jungle, in spite of our shouted assurances. A moment

later they reappeared at some distance above us, each with a spear he had snatched from somewhere; they

were unarmed when we first caught sight of them. Examined through the glasses they proved to be sullen

looking men, copper coloured, but broad across the cheekbones, broad in the forehead, more decidedly of the

Aside from these two men we travelled through an apparently deserted jungle. I suspect, however, that we

were probably well watched; for when we stopped for noon we heard the gunbearers beyond the screen of

leaves talking to some one. On learning from our boys that these were some of the shenzis, we told them to

bring the savages in for a shauri; but in this our men failed, nor could they themselves get nearer than fifty

yards or so to the wild people. So until evening our impression remained that of two distant men, and the

We made camp comparatively early in a wide open space surrounded by low forest. Almost immediately then

the savages commenced to drift in, very haughty and arrogant. They were fully armed. Besides the spear and

decorated shield, some of them carried the curious small grass spears. These are used to stab upward from

below, the wielder lying flat in the grass. Some of these men were fantastically painted with a groundwork

ochre, on which had been drawn intricate wavy designs on the legs, like stockings, and varied stripes across

the face. One particularly ingenious individual, stark naked, had outlined a roughly entire skeleton! He was a

gruesome object! They stalked here and there through the camp, looking at our men and their activities with a

You may be sure we had our arrangements, though they did not appear on the surface. The askaris, or native

soldiers, were posted here and there with their muskets; the gunbearers also kept our spare weapons by them.

The askaris could not hit a barn, but they could make a noise. The gunbearers were fair shots.

Of course the chief and his prime minister came in. They were evillooking savages. To them we paid not the

slightest attention, but went about our usual business as though they did not exist. At the end of an hour they

of their own initiative greeted us. We did not hear them. Half an hour later they disappeared, to return after an

interval, followed by a string of young men bearing firewood. Evidently our bearing had impressed them, as

we had intended. We then unbent far enough to recognize them, carried on a formal conversation for a few

moments, gave them adequate presents and dismissed them. Then we ordered the askaris to clear camp and to

keep it clear. No women had appeared. Even the gifts of firewood had been carried by men, a most unusual

As soon as dark fell the drums began roaring in the forest all about our clearing, and the chanting to rise. We

instructed our men to shoot first and inquire afterward, if a shenzi so much as showed himself in the clearing.

This was not as bad as it sounded; the shenzi stood in no immediate danger. Then we turned in to a sleep

rather light and broken by uncertainty. I do not think we were in any immediate danger of a considered

attack, for these people were not openly hostile; but there was always a chance that the savages might by their

drum pounding and dancing work themselves into a frenzy. Then we might have to do a little rapid shooting.

Not for one instant the whole night long did those misguided savages cease their howling and dancing. At

Next morning we took up our march through the deserted tracks once more. Not a sign of human life did we

encounter. About ten o'clock we climbed down a tremendous gash of a box canyon with precipitous cliffs.

From below we looked back to see, perched high against the skyline, the motionless figures of many savages

watching us from the crags. So we had had company after all, and we had not known it. This canyon proved

to be the boundary line. With the same abruptness we passed again into friendly country.

We left the jungle finally when we turned on a long angle away from Kenia. At first the open country of the

foothills was closely cultivated with fields of rape and maize. We saw some of the people breaking new soil

by means of long pointed sticks. The plowmen quite simply inserted the pointed end in the ground and pried.

It was very slow hard work. In other fields the grain stood high and good. From among the stalks, as from a

miniature jungle, the little naked totos stared out, and the goodnatured women smiled at us. The magnificent

peak of Kenia had now shaken itself free of the forests. On its snow the sunrises and sunsets kindled their

fires. The flames of grass fires, too, could plainly be made out, incredible distances away, and at daytime,

through the reek, were fascinating suggestions of distant rivers, plains, jungles, and hills. You see, we were

still practically on the wide slope of Kenia's base, though the peak was many days away, and so could look

The last half day of this we wandered literally in a rape field. The stalks were quite above our heads, and we

could see but a few yards in any direction. In addition the track had become a footpath not over two feet

wide. We could occasionally look back to catch glimpses of a pack or so bobbing along on a porter's head.

From our own path hundreds of other paths branched; we were continually taking the wrong fork and moving

back to set the safari right before it could do likewise. This we did by drawing a deep double line in the earth

across the wrong trail. Then we hustled on ahead to pioneer the way a little farther; our difficulties were

further complicated by the fact that we had sent our horses back to Nairobi for fear of the tsetse fly, so we

could not see out above the corn. All we knew was that we ought to go down hill.

At the ends of some of our false trails we came upon fascinating little settlements: groups of houses inside

brush enclosures, with low wooden gateways beneath which we had to stoop to enter. Within were groups of

beehive houses with small naked children and perhaps an old woman or old man seated crosslegged under a

After three o'clock we came finally out on the edge of a cliff fifty or sixty feet high, below which lay

uncultivated bottom lands like a great meadow and a little meandering stream. We descended the cliff, and

By this time we were fairly tired from long walking in the heat, and so were content to sit down under our

tentfly before our little table, and let Mahomet bring us sparklets and lime juice. Before us was the flat of a

meadow below the cliffs and the cliffs themselves. Just below the rise lay a single patch of standing rape not

over two acres in extent, the only sign of human life. It was as though this little bit had overflowed from the

countless millions on the plateau above. Beyond it arose a thin signal of smoke.

We sipped our lime juice and rested. Soon our attention was attracted by the peculiar actions of a big flock of

very white birds. They rose suddenly from one side of the tiny rape field, wheeled and swirled like leaves in

the wind, and dropped down suddenly on the other side the patch. After a few moments they repeated the

performance. The sun caught the dazzling white of their plumage. At first we speculated on what they might

be, then on what they were doing, to behave in so peculiar a manner. The lime juice and the armchair began

to get in their recuperative work. Somehow the distance across that flat did not seem quite as tremendous as

at first. Finally I picked up the shotgun and sauntered across to investigate. The cause of action I soon

determined. The owner of that rape field turned out to be an emaciated, grayhaired but spry old savage. He

was armed with a spear; and at the moment his chief business in life seemed to be chasing a large flock of

white birds off his grain. Since he had no assistance, and since the birds held his spear in justifiable contempt

as a fowling piece, he was getting much exercise and few results. The birds gave way before his direct

charge, flopped over to the other side, and continued their meal. They had already occasioned considerable

damage; the rape heads were bent and destroyed for a space of perhaps ten feet from the outer edge of the

field. As this grain probably constituted the old man's food supply for a season, I did not wonder at the

vehemence with which he shook his spear at his enemies, nor the apparent flavour of his language, though I

did marvel at his physical endurance. As for the birds, they had become cynical and impudent; they barely

I halted the old gentleman and hastened to explain that I was neither a pirate, a robber, nor an oppressor of the

poor. This as countercheck to his tendency to flee, leaving me in sole charge. He understood a little Swahili,

and talked a few words of something he intended for that language. By means of our mutual accomplishment

in that tongue, and through a more efficient sign language, I got him to understand the plan of campaign. It

was very simple. I squatted down inside the rape, while he went around the other side to scare them up.

The white birds uttered their peculiarly derisive cackle at the old man and flapped over to my side. Then they

were certainly an astonished lot of birds. I gave them both barrels and dropped a pair; got two more shots as

they swung over me and dropped another pair, and brought down a straggling single as a grand finale. The

flock, with shrill, derogatory remarks, flew in an airline straight away. They never deviated, as far as I could

follow them with the eye. Even after they had apparently disappeared, I could catch an occasional flash of

Now the old gentleman came whooping around with long, undignified bounds to fall on his face and seize my

foot in an excess of gratitude. He rose and capered about, he rushed out and gathered in the slain one by one

and laid them in a pile at my feet. Then he danced a jigstep around them and reviled them, and fell on his

face once more, repeating the word "Bwana! bwana! bwana!" over and over"Master! master! master!" We

returned to camp together, the old gentleman carrying the birds, and capering about like a small boy, pouring

forth a flood of his sort of Swahili, of which I could understand only a word here and there. Memba Sasa,

very dignified and scornful of such performances, met us halfway and took my gun. He seemed to be able to

understand the old fellow's brand of Swahili, and said it over again in a brand I could understand. From it I

gathered that I was called a marvellously great sultan, a protector of the poor, and other Arabian Nights titles.

The birds proved to be white egrets. Now at home I am strongly against the killing of these creatures, and

have so expressed myself on many occasions. But, looking from the beautiful white plumage of these

villainous mauraders, to the wrinkled countenance of the grateful weary old savage, I could not fan a spark of

regret. And from the straight line of their retreating flight I like to think that the rest of the flock never came

Next day we reentered the gamehaunted wilderness, nor did we see any more native villages until many

Our first sight of the Tana River was from the top of a bluff. It flowed below us a hundred feet, bending at a

sharp elbow against the cliff on which we stood. Out of the jungle it crept sluggishly and into the jungle it

crept again, brown, slow, viscid, suggestive of the fevers and the lurking beasts by which, indeed, it was

haunted. From our elevation we could follow its course by the jungle that grew along its banks. At first this

was intermittent, leaving thin or even open spaces at intervals, but lower down it extended away unbroken

Either side of the jungle were rolling hills. Those to the left made up to the tremendous slopes of Kenia.

Those to the right ended finally in a low broken range many miles away called the Ithanga Hills. The country

gave one the impression of being clothed with small trees; although here and there this growth gave space to

wide grassy plains. Later we discovered that the forest was more apparent than real. The small trees, even

where continuous, were sparse enough to permit free walking in all directions, and open enough to allow

clear sight for a hundred yards or so. Furthermore, the shallow wide valleys between the hills were almost

Thus the course of the Tana possessed advantages to such as we. By following in general the course of the

stream we were always certain of wood and water. The river itself was full of fishnot to speak of hundreds

of crocodiles and hippopotamuses. The thick river jungle gave cover to such animals as the bushbuck,

leopard, the beautiful colobus, some of the tiny antelope, waterbuck, buffalo and rhinoceros. Among the

thorn and acacia trees of the hillsides one was certain of impalla, eland, diksdiks, and giraffes. In the grass

bottoms were lions, rhinoceroses, a half dozen varieties of buck, and thousands and thousands of game birds

such as guinea fowl and grouse. On the plains fed zebra, hartebeeste, warthog, ostriches, and several species

of the smaller antelope. As a sportsman's paradise this region would be hard to beat.

We were now afoot. The dreaded tsetse fly abounded here, and we had sent our horses in via Fort Hall. F. had

accompanied them, and hoped to rejoin us in a few days or weeks with tougher and less valuable mules.

Pending his return we moved on leisurely, camping long at one spot, marching short days, searching the

It was great fun. Generally we hunted each in his own direction and according to his own ideas. The jungle

along the river, while not the most prolific in trophies, was by all odds the most interesting. It was very dense,

very hot, and very shady. Often a thorn thicket would fling itself from the hills right across to the water's

edge, absolutely and hopelessly impenetrable save by way of the rhinoceros tracks. Along these then we

would slip, bent double, very quietly and gingerly, keeping a sharp lookout for the rightful owners of the trail.

Again we would wander among lofty trees through the tops of which the sun flickered on festooned

serpentlike vines. Every once in a while we managed a glimpse of the sullen oily river through the dense leaf

screen on its banks. The water looked thick as syrup, of a deadly menacing green. Sometimes we saw a

loathsome crocodile lying with his nose just out of water, or heard the snorting blow of a hippopotamus

coming up for air. Then the thicket forced us inland again. We stepped very slowly, very alertly, our ears

cocked for the faintest sound, our eyes roving. Generally, of course, the creatures of the jungle saw us first.

We became aware of them by a crash or a rustling or a scamper. Then we stood stock listening with all our

ears for some sound distinguishing to the species. Thus I came to recognize the queer barking note of the

bushbuck, for example, and to realize how profane and vulgar that and the beautiful creature, the impalla, can

be when he forgets himself. As for the rhinoceros, he does not care how much noise he makes, nor how badly

Personally, I liked very well to circle out in the more open country until about three o'clock, then to enter the

river jungle and work my way slowly back toward camp. At that time of day the shadows were lengthening,

the birds and animals were beginning to stir about. In the cooling nether world of shadow we slipped silently

from thicket to thicket, from tree to tree; and the jungle people fled from us, or withdrew, or gazed curiously,

While thus returning one evening I saw my first colobus. He was swinging rapidly from one tree to another,

his long black and white fur shining against the sun. I wanted him very much, and promptly let drive at him

with the 405 Winchester. I always carried this heavier weapon in the dense jungle. Of course I missed him,

but the roar of the shot so surprised him that he came to a stand. Memba Sasa passed me the Springfield, and

I managed to get him in the head. At the shot another flashed into view, high up in the top of a tree. Again I

aimed and fired. The beast let go and fell like a plummet. "Good shot," said I to myself. Fifty feet down the

colobus seized a limb and went skipping away through the branches as lively as ever. In a moment he stopped

to look back, and by good luck I landed him through the body. When we retrieved him we found that the first

At the time I thought he must have been frightened into falling; but many subsequent experiences showed me

that this sheer letgoallholds drop is characteristic of the colobus and his mode of progression. He rarely,

as far as my observation goes, leaps out and across as do the ordinary monkeys, but prefers to progress by a

series of slanting ascents followed by breathtaking straight drops to lower levels. When closely pressed

from beneath, he will go as high as he can, and will then conceal himself in the thick leaves.

B. and I procured our desired number of colobus by taking advantage of this habitas soon as we had learned

it. Shooting the beasts with our rifles we soon found to be not only very difficult, but also destructive of the

skins. On the other hand, a man could not, save by sheer good fortune, rely on stalking near enough to use a

shotgun. Therefore we evolved a method productive of the maximum noise, row, barked shins, thorn wounds,

tumbles, bruisesand colobus! It was very simple. We took about twenty boys into the jungle with us, and as

soon as we caught sight of a colobus we chased him madly. That was all there was to it.

And yet this method, simple apparently to the point of imbecility, had considerable logic back of it after all;

for after a time somebody managed to get underneath that colobus when he was at the top of a tree. Then the

Consider then a tumbling riotous mob careering through the jungle as fast as the jungle would let it, slipping,

stumbling, falling flat, getting tangled hopelessly, disentangling with profane remarks, falling behind and

catching up again, everybody yelling and shrieking. Ahead of us we caught glimpses of the sleek bounding

black and white creature, running up the long slanting limbs, and dropping like a plummet into the lower

branches of the next tree. We white men never could keep up with the best of our men at this sort of work,

although in the open country I could hold them well enough. We could see them dashing through the thick

cover at a great rate of speed far ahead of us. After an interval came a great shout in chorus. By this we knew

that the quarry had been definitely brought to a stand. Arriving at the spot we craned our heads backward, and

proceeded to get a crick in the neck trying to make out invisible colobus in the very tops of the trees above us.

For gaudily marked beasts the colobus were extraordinarily difficult to see. This was in no sense owing to

any farfetched application of protective colouration; but to the remarkable skill the animals possessed in

concealing themselves behind apparently the scantiest and most inadequate cover. Fortunately for us our

boys' ability to see them was equally remarkable. Indeed, the most difficult part of their task was to point the

game out to us. We squinted, and changed position, and tried hard to follow directions eagerly proffered by a

dozen of the men. Finally one of us would, by the aid of six powerglasses, make out, or guess at a small tuft

of white or black hair showing beyond the concealment of a bunch of leaves. We would unlimber the shotgun

and send a charge of BB into that bunch. Then down would plump the game, to the huge and vociferous

delight of all the boys. Or, as occasionally happened, the shot was followed merely by a shower of leaves and

a chorus of expostulations indicating that we had mistaken the place, and had fired into empty air.

In this manner we gathered the twelve we required between us. At noon we sat under the bank, with the

tangled roots of trees above us, and the smooth oily river slipping by. You may be sure we always selected a

spot protected by very shoal water, for the crocodiles were numerous. I always shot these loathsome creatures

whenever I got a chance, whenever the sound of a shot would not alarm more valuable game. Generally they

were to be seen in midstream, just the tip of their snouts above water, and extraordinarily like anything but

crocodiles. Often it took several close scrutinies through the glass to determine the brutes. This required

rather nice shooting. More rarely we managed to see them on the banks, or only half submerged. In this

position, too, they were all but undistinguishable as living creatures. I think this is perhaps because of their

complete immobility. The creatures of the woods, standing quite still, are difficult enough to see; but I have a

notion that the eye, unknown to itself, catches the sum total of little flexings of the muscles, movements of

the skin, winkings, even the play of wind and light in the hair of the coat, all of which, while impossible of

analysis, together relieve the appearance of dead inertia. The vitality of a creature like the crocodile, however,

seems to have withdrawn into the inner recesses of its being. It lies like a log of wood, and for a log of wood

Nevertheless the crocodile has stored in it somewhere a fearful vitality. The swiftness of its movements when

seizing prey is most astonishing; a swirl of water, the sweep of a powerful tail, and the unfortunate victim has

disappeared. For this reason it is especially dangerous to approach the actual edge of any of the great rivers,

unless the water is so shallow that the crocodile could not possibly approach under cover, as is its cheerful

habit. We had considerable difficulty in impressing this elementary truth on our hillbred totos until one day,

hearing wild shrieks from the direction of the river, I rushed down to find the lot huddled together in the very

middle of a sand spit thatreached well out into the stream. Inquiry developed that while paddling in the

shallows they had been surprised by the sudden appearance of an ugly snout and well drenched by the sweep

of an eager tail. The stroke fortunately missed. We stilled the tumult, sat down quietly to wait, and at the end

Generally we killed the brutes where we found them and allowed them to drift away with the current.

Occasionally however we wanted a piece of hide, and then tried to retrieve them. One such occasion showed

very vividly the tenacity of life and the primitive nervous systems of these great saurians.

I discovered the beast, head out of water, in a reasonable sized pool below which were shallow rapids. My

Springfield bullet hit him fair, whereupon he stood square on his head and waved his tail in the air, rolled

over three or four times, thrashed the water, and disappeared. After waiting a while we moved on

downstream. Returning four hours later I sneaked up quietly. There the crocodile lay sunning himself on the

sand bank. I supposed he must be dead; but when I accidentally broke a twig, he immediately commenced to

slide off into the water. Thereupon I stopped him with a bullet in the spine. The first shot had smashed a hole

in his head, just behind the eye, about the size of an ordinary coffee cup. In spite of this wound, which would

have been instantly fatal to any warmblooded animal, the creature was so little affected that it actually

reacted to a slight noise made at some distance from where it lay. Of course the wound would probably have

The best spot to shoot at, indeed, is not the head but the spine immediately back of the head.

These brutes are exceedingly powerful. They are capable of taking down horses and cattle, with no particular

effort. This I know from my own observation. Mr. Fleischman, however, was privileged to see the wonderful

sight of the capture and destruction of a fullgrown rhinoceros by a crocodile. The photographs he took of

this most extraordinary affair leave no room for doubt. Crossing a stream was always a matter of concern to

us. The boys beat the surface of the water vigorously with their safari sticks. On occasion we have even let

A steep climb through thorn and brush would always extricate us from the river jungle when we became tired

of it. Then we found ourselves in a continuous but scattered growth of small trees. Between the trunks of

these we could see for a hundred yards or so before their numbers closed in the view. Here was the favourite

haunt of numerous beautiful impalla. We caught glimpses of them, flashing through the trees; or occasionally

standing, gazing in our direction, their slender necks stretched high, their ears pointed for us. These curious

ones were generally the does. The bucks were either more cautious or less inquisitive. A herd or so of eland

also liked this covered country; and there were always a few waterbuck and rhinoceroses about. Often too we

here encountered stragglers from the open plainszebra or hartebeeste, very alert and suspicious in

A great deal of the plains country had been burned over; and a considerable area was still afire. The low

bright flames licked their way slowly through the grass in a narrow irregular band extending sometimes for

miles. Behind it was blackened soil, and above it rolled dense clouds of smoke. Always accompanied it

thousands of birds wheeling and dashing frantically in and out of the murk, often fairly at the flames

themselves. The published writings of a certain worthy and sentimental person waste much sympathy over

these poor birds dashing frenziedly about above their destroyed nests. As a matter of fact they are taking

greedy advantage of a most excellent opportunity to get insects cheap. Thousands of the common redbilled

European storks patrolled the grass just in front of the advancing flames, or wheeled barely above the fire.

Grasshoppers were their main object, although apparently they never objected to any small mammals or

reptiles that came their way. Far overhead wheeled a few thousand more assorted soarers who either had no

The utter indifference of the animals to the advance of a big conflagration always impressed me. One

naturally pictures the beasts as fleeing wildly, nostrils distended, before the devouring element. On the

contrary I have seen kongoni grazing quite peacefully with flames on three sides of them. The fire seems to

travel rather slowly in the tough grass; although at times and for a short distance it will leap to a wild and

roaring life. Beasts will then lope rapidly away to right or left, but without excitement.

On these open plains we were more or less pestered with ticks of various sizes. These clung to the grass

blades; but with no invincible preference for that habitat; trousers did them just as well. Then they ascended

looking for openings. They ranged in size from little red ones as small as the period of a printed page to big

patterned fellows the size of a pea. The little ones were much the most abundant. At times I have had the

front of my breeches so covered with them that their numbers actually imparted a reddish tinge to the surface

of the cloth. This sounds like exaggeration, but it is a measured statement. The process of deticking (new

and valuable word) can then be done only by scraping with the back of a hunting knife.

Some people, of tender skin, are driven nearly frantic by these pests. Others, of whom I am thankful to say I

am one, get off comparatively easy. In a particularly bad tick country, one generally appoints one of the

youngsters as "tick toto." It is then his job in life to detick any person or domestic animal requiring his

services. His is a busy existence. But though at first the nuisance is excessive, one becomes accustomed to it

in a remarkably short space of time. The adaptability of the human being is nowhere better exemplified. After

a time one gets so that at night he can remove a marauding tick and cast it forth into the darkness without

even waking up. Fortunately ticks are local in distribution. Often one may travel weeks or months without

I was always interested and impressed to observe how indifferent the wild animals seem to be to these

insects. Zebra, rhinoceros and giraffe seem to be especially good hosts. The loathsome creatures fasten

themselves in clusters wherever they can grip their fangs. Thus in a tick country a zebra's ears, the lids and

corners of his eyes, his nostrils and lips, the soft skin between his legs and body, and between his hind legs,

and under his tail are always crusted with ticks as thick as they can cling. One would think the drain on

vitality would be enormous, but the animals are always plump and in condition. The same state of affairs

obtains with the other two beasts named. The hartebeeste also carries ticks but not nearly in the same

abundance; while such creatures as the waterbuck, impalla, gazelles and the smaller bucks seem either to be

absolutely free from the pests, or to have a very few. Whether this is because such animals take the trouble to

rid themselves, or because they are more immune from attack it would be difficult to say. I have found ticks

clinging to the hair of lions, but never fastened to the flesh. It is probable that they had been brushed off from

the grass in passing. Perhaps ticks do not like lions, waterbuck, Tommies, et al., or perhaps only big

Late one afternoon I shot a warthog in the tall grass. The beast was an unusually fine specimen, so I

instructed Fundi and the porters to take the head, and myself started for camp with Memba Sasa. I had gone

not over a hundred yards when I was recalled by wild and agonized appeals of "Bwana! bwana!" The

longlegged Fundi was repeatedly leaping straight up in the air to an astonishing height above the long grass,

curling his legs up under him at each jump, and yelling like a steamengine. Returning promptly, I found that

the warthog had come to life at the first prick of the knife. He was engaged in charging back and forth in an

earnest effort to tusk Fundi, and the latter was jumping high in an equally earnest effort to keep out of the

way. Fortunately he proved agile enough to do so until I planted another bullet in the aggressor.

These warthogs are most comical brutes from whatever angle one views them. They have a patriarchal,

selfsatisfied, suburban manner of complete importance. The old gentleman bosses his harem outrageously,

and each and every member of the tribe walks about with short steps and a stuffy parvenu smalltown

selfsufficiency. One is quite certain that it is only by accident that they have long tusks and live in Africa,

instead of rubberplants and selfmade business and a pugdog within commuters' distance of New York.

But at the slightest alarm this swollen and puffy importance breaks down completely. Away they scurry, their

tails held stiffly and straightly perpendicular, their short legs scrabbling the small stones in a frantic effort to

go faster than nature had intended them to go. Nor do they cease their flight at a reasonable distance, but keep

on going over hill and dale, until they fairly vanish in the blue. I used to like starting them off this way, just

for the sake of contrast, and also for the sake of the delicious but impossible vision of seeing their human

When a warthog is at home, he lives down a hole. Of course it has to be a particularly large hole. He turns

around and backs down it. No more peculiar sight can be imagined than the sardonically toothsome

countenance of a warthog fading slowly in the dimness of a deep burrow, a good deal like Alice's Cheshire

Cat. Firing a revolver, preferably with smoky black powder, just in front of the hole annoys the warthog

exceedingly. Out he comes full tilt, bent on damaging some one, and it takes quick shooting to prevent his

Once, many hundreds of miles south of the Tana, and many months later, we were riding quite peaceably

through the country, when we were startled by the sound of a deep and continuous roaring in a small brush

patch to our left. We advanced cautiously to a prospective lion, only to discover that the roaring proceeded

from the depths of a warthog burrow. The reverberation of our footsteps on the hollow ground had alarmed

On another occasion, when returning to camp from a solitary walk, I saw two warthogs before they saw me.

I made no attempt to conceal myself, but stood absolutely motionless. They fed slowly nearer and nearer until

at last they were not over twenty yards away. When finally they made me out, their indignation and

amazement and utter incredulity were very funny. In fact, they did not believe in me at all for some few

One afternoon F. and I, hunting along one of the wide grass bottom lands, caught sight of a herd of an

especially fine impalla. The animals were feeding about fifty yards the other side of a small solitary bush, and

the bush grew on the sloping bank of the slight depression that represented the dry stream bottom. We could

duck down into the depression, sneak along it, come up back of the little bush, and shoot from very close

So quietly did we move that when we rose up back of the little bush a lioness lying under it with her cub was

Indeed, I do not think she knew what we were, for instead of attacking, she leaped out the other side the bush,

uttering a startled snarl. At once she whirled to come at us, but the brief respite had allowed us to recover our

own scattered wits. As she turned I caught her broadside through the heart. Although this shot knocked her

down, F. immediately followed it with another for safety's sake. We found that actually we had just missed

The cub we caught a glimpse of. He was about the size of a setter dog. We tried hard to find him, but failed.

The lioness was an unusually large one, probably about as big as the female ever grows, measuring nine feet

Billy had her funny times housekeeping. The kitchen department never quite ceased marvelling at her.

Whenever she went to the cookcamp to deliver her orders she was surrounded by an attentive and respectful

audience. One day, after holding forth for some time in Swahili, she found that she had been standing

On another occasion she was trying to tell the cook, through Mahomet as interpreter, that she wanted a tough

old buffalo steak pounded, boardinghouse style. This evidently puzzled all hands. They turned to in an

earnest discussion of what it was all about, anyway. Billy understood Swahili well enough at that time to

gather that they could not understand the Memsahib's wanting the meat "kibokoed"FLOGGED. Was it a

"All right," said Mahomet patiently at last. "He say he do it. WHICH ONE IS IT?"

Part of our supplies comprised tins of dehydrated fruit. One evening Billy decided to have a grand

celebration, so she passed out a tin marked "rhubarb" and some cornstarch, together with suitable instructions

Billy pointed out, severely, that he already had fruit. He went away shaking his head. Evening and the

pudding came. It looked good, and we congratulated Billy on her culinary enterprise. Being hungry, we took

big mouthfuls. There followed splutterings and investigations. The rhubarb can proved to be an old one

When finally we parted with our faithful cook we bought him a really wonderful many bladed knife as a

present. On seeing it he slumped to the groundsix feet of lofty dignityand began to weep violently, rocking

"Oh, Memsahib!" he wailed, the tears coursing down his cheeks, "I wanted a watch!"

One morning about nine o'clock we were riding along at the edge of a grassgrown savannah, with a low hill

to our right and another about four hundred yards ahead. Suddenly two rhinoceroses came to their feet some

fifty yards to our left out in the high grass, and stood looking uncertainly in our direction.

In some concern for her sanity I glanced in her direction. She was staring, not to her left, but straight ahead. I

followed the direction of her gaze, to see three lions moving across the face of the hill.

Instantly we dropped off our horses. We wanted a shot at those lions very much indeed, but were hampered in

our efforts by the two rhinoceroses, now stamping, snorting, and moving slowly in our direction. The

language we muttered was racy, but we dropped to a kneeling position and opened fire on the disappearing

lions. It was most distinctly a case of divided attention, one eye on those menacing rhinos, and one trying to

attend to the always delicate operation of aligning sights and signalling from a rather distracted brain just

when to pull the trigger. Our faithful gunbearers crouched by us, the heavy guns ready.

One rhino seemed either peaceable or stupid. He showed no inclination either to attack or to depart, but was

willing to back whatever play his friend might decide on. The friend charged toward us until we began to

think he meant battle, stopped, thought a moment, and then, followed by his companion, trotted slowly across

our bows about eighty yards away, while we continued our long range practice at the lions over their backs.

In this we were not winning many cigars. F. had a 280calibre rifle shooting the Ross cartridge through the

much advertised grooveless oval bore. It was little accurate beyond a hundred yards. Memba Sasa had thrust

the 405 into my hand, knowing it for the "lion gun," and kept just out of reach with the longrange

Springfield. I had no time to argue the matter with him. The 405 has a trajectory like a rainbow at that

distance, and I was guessing at it, and not making very good guesses either. B. had his Springfield and made

closer practice, finally hitting a leg of one of the beasts. We saw him lift his paw and shake it, but he did not

move lamely afterward, so the damage was probably confined to a simple scrape. It was a good shot anyway.

We walked forward, regretting rhinos. Thirty yards ahead of me came a thunderous and roaring growl, and a

magnificent old lion reared his head from a low bush. He evidently intended mischief, for I could see his tail

switching. However, B. had killed only one lion and I wanted very much to give him the shot. Therefore, I

held the front sight on the middle of his chest, and uttered a fervent wish to myself that B. would hurry up. In

about ten seconds the muzzle of his rifle poked over my shoulder, so I resigned the job.

At B.'s shot the lion fell over, but was immediately up and trying to get at us. Then we saw that his hind

quarters were paralyzed. He was a most magnificent sight as he reared his fine old head, roaring at us full

mouthed so that the very air trembled. Billy had a good look at a lion in action. B. took up a commanding

position on an ant hill to one side with his rifle levelled. F. and I advanced slowly side by side. At twelve feet

from the wounded beast stopped, F. unlimbered the kodak, while I held the bead of the 405 between the lion's

eyes, ready to press trigger at the first forward movement, however slight. Thus we took several exposures in

the two cameras. Unfortunately one of the cameras fell in the river the next day. The other contained but one

exposure. While not so spectacular as some of those spoiled, it shows very well the erect mane, he wicked

narrowing of the eyes, the flattening of the ears of an angry lion. You must imagine, furthermore, the deep

We backed away, and B. put in the finishing shot. The first bullet, we then found, had penetrated the kidneys,

When we came to skin him we found an oldfashioned lead bullet between the bones of his right forepaw.

The entrance wound had so entirely healed over that hardly the trace of a scar remained. >From what I know

of the character of these beasts, I have no doubt that this ancient injury furnished the reason for his staying to

Following the course of the river, we one afternoon came around a bend on a huge herd of mixed game that

had been down to water. The river, a quite impassable barrier lay to our right, and an equally impassable

precipitous ravine barred their flight ahead. They were forced to cross our front, quite close, within the

hundred yards. We stopped to watch them go, a seemingly endless file of them, some very much frightened,

bounding spasmodically as though stung; others more philosophical, loping easily and unconcernedly; still

others to a feweven stopping for a moment to get a good view of us. The very young creatures, as always,

bounced along absolutely stifflegged, exactly like wooden animals suspended by an elastic, touching the

ground and rebounding high, without a bend of the knee nor an apparent effort of the muscles. Young

animals seem to have to learn how to bend their legs for the most efficient travel. The same is true of human

babies as well. In this herd were, we estimated, some four or five hundred beasts.

While hunting near the foothills I came across the body of a large eagle suspended by one leg from the crotch

of a limb. The bird's talon had missed its grip, probably on alighting, the tarsus had slipped through the crotch

beyond the joint, the eagle had fallen forward, and had never been able to flop itself back to an upright

The rhinoceros is, with the giraffe, the hippopotamus, the gerenuk, and the camel, one of Africa's

unbelievable animals. Nobody has bettered Kipling's description of him in the Justso Stories: "A horn on his

nose, piggy eyes, and few manners." He lives a selfcentred life, wrapped up in the porcine contentment that

broods within nor looks abroad over the land. When anything external to himself and his food and drink

penetrates to his intelligence he makes a flurried fool of himself, rushing madly and frantically here and there

in a hysterical effort either to destroy or get away from the cause of disturbance. He is the incarnation of a

Generally he lives by himself, sometimes with his spouse, more rarely still with a third that is probably a

grownup son or daughter. I personally have never seen more than three in company. Some observers have

reported larger bands, or rather collections, but, lacking other evidence, I should be inclined to suspect that

some circumstances of food or water rather than a sense of gregariousness had attracted a number of

The rhinoceros has three objects in life: to fill his stomach with food and water, to stand absolutely

motionless under a bush, and to imitate ant hills when he lies down in the tall grass. When disturbed at any of

these occupations he snorts. The snort sounds exactly as though the safety valve of a locomotive had

suddenly opened and as suddenly shut again after two seconds of escaping steam. Then he puts his head

down and rushes madly in some direction, generally upwind. As he weighs about two tons, and can, in spite

of his appearance, get over the ground nearly as fast as an ordinary horse, he is a truly imposing sight,

especially since the innocent bystander generally happens to be upwind, and hence in the general path of

progress. This is because the rhino's scent is his keenest sense, and through it he becomes aware, in the

majority of times, of man's presence. His sight is very poor indeed; he cannot see clearly even a moving

The novice, then, is subjected to what he calls a "vicious charge" on the part of the rhinoceros, merely

because his scent was borne to the beast from upwind, and the rhino naturally runs away upwind. He opens

fire, and has another thrilling adventure to relate. As a matter of fact, if he had approached from the other

side, and then aroused the animal with a clod of earth, the beast would probably have "charged" away in

identically the same direction. I am convinced from a fairly varied experience that this is the basis for most of

But whatever the beast's first mental attitude, the danger is quite real. In the beginning he rushes, upwind in

instinctive reaction against the strange scent. If he catches sight of the man at all, it must be after he has

approached to pretty close range, for only at close range are the rhino's eyes effective. Then he is quite likely

to finish what was at first a blind dash by a genuine charge. Whether this is from malice or from the panicky

feeling that he is now too close to attempt to get away, I never was able determine. It is probably in the

majority of cases the latter. This seems indicated by the fact that the rhino, if avoided in his first rush, will

generally charge right through and keep on going. Occasionally, however, he will whirl and come back to the

Nor must it be forgotten that with these animals, AS WITH ALL OTHERS, not enough account is taken of

individual variation. They, as well as man, and as well as other animals, have their cowards, their fighters,

their slothful and their enterprising. And, too, there seem to be truculent and peaceful districts. North of Mt.

Kenia, between that peak and the Northern Guaso Nyero River, we saw many rhinos, none of which showed

the slightest disposition to turn ugly. In fact, they were so peaceful that they scrabbled off as fast as they

could go every time they either scented, heard, or SAW us; and in their flight they held their noses up, not

down. In the wide angle between the Tana and Thika rivers, and comprising the Yatta Plains, and in the

thickets of the Tsavo, the rhinoceroses generally ran nose down in a position of attack and were much

inclined to let their angry passions master them at the sight of man. Thus we never had our safari scattered by

rhinoceroses in the former district, while in the latter the boys were up trees six times in the course of one

morning! Carl Akeley, with a moving picture machine, could not tease a charge out of a rhino in a dozen

tries, while Dugmore, in a different part of the country, was so chivied about that he finally left the district to

The fact of the matter is that the rhinoceros is neither animated by the implacable mandestroying passion

ascribed to him by the amateur hunter, nor is he so purposeless and haphazard in his rushes as some would

have us believe. On being disturbed his instinct is to get away. He generally tries to get away in the direction

of the disturbance, or upwind, as the case may be. If he catches sight of the cause of disturbance he is apt to

try to trample and gore it, whatever it is. As his sight is short, he will sometimes so inflict punishment on

unoffending bushes. In doing this he is probably not animated by a consuming destructive blind rage, but by a

naturally pugnacious desire to eliminate sources of annoyance. Missing a definite object, he thunders right

This first rush is not a charge in the sense that it is an attack on a definite object. It may not, and probably will

not, amount to a charge at all, for the beast will blunder through without ever defining more clearly the object

of his blind dash. That dash is likely, however, at any moment, to turn into a definite charge should the

rhinoceros happen to catch sight of his disturber. Whether the impelling motive would then be a mistaken

notion that on the part of the beast he was so close he had to fight, or just plain malice, would not matter. At

such times the intended victim is not interested in the rhino's mental processes.

Owing to his size, his powerful armament, and his incredible quickness the rhinoceros is a dangerous animal

at all times, to be treated with respect and due caution. This is proved by the number of white men, out of a

sparse population, that are annually tossed and killed by the brutes, and by the promptness with which the

natives take to treesthorn trees at that!when the cry of faru! is raised. As he comes rushing in your

direction, head down and long weapon pointed, tail rigidly erect, ears up, the earth trembling with his tread

If you keep cool, however, it is probable that the encounter will result only in a lot of mental perturbation for

the rhino and a bit of excitement for yourself. If there is any cover you should duck down behind it and move

rapidly but quietly to one side or another of the line of advance. If there is no cover, you should crouch low

and hold still. The chances are he will pass to one side or the other of you, and go snorting away into the

distance. Keep your eye on him very closely. If he swerves definitely in your direction, AND DROPS HIS

HEAD A LITTLE LOWER, it would be just as well to open fire. Provided the beast was still far enough

away to give me "searoom," I used to put a small bullet in the flesh of the outer part of the shoulder. The

wound thus inflicted was not at all serious, but the shock of the bullet usually turned the beast. This was

generally in the direction of the wounded shoulder, which would indicate that the brute turned toward the

apparent source of the attack, probably for the purpose of getting even. At any rate, the shot turned the rush to

one side, and the rhinoceros, as usual, went right on through. If, however, he seemed to mean business, or

was too close for comfort, the point to aim for was the neck just above the lowered horn.

In my own experience I came to establish a "dead line" about twenty yards from myself. That seemed to be as

near as I cared to let the brutes come. Up to that point I let them alone on the chance that they might swerve

or change their minds, as they often did. But inside of twenty yards, whether the rhinoceros meant to charge

me, or was merely running blindly by, did not particularly matter. Even in the latter case he might happen to

catch sight of me and change his mind. Thus, looking over my notebook records, I find that I was "charged"

forty odd timesthat is to say, the rhinoceros rushed in my general direction. Of this lot I can be sure of but

three, and possibly four, that certainly meant mischief. Six more came so directly at us, and continued so to

come, that in spite of ourselves we were compelled to kill them. The rest were successfully dodged.

As I have heard old hunters of many times my experience, affirm that only in a few instances have they

themselves been charged indubitably and with malice aforethought, it might be well to detail my reasons for

The first instance was that when B. killed his second trophy rhinoceros. The beast's companion refused to

leave the dead body for a long time, but finally withdrew. On our approaching, however, and after we had

been some moments occupied with the trophy, it returned and charged viciously. It was finally killed at

The second instance was of a rhinoceros that got up from the grass sixty yards away, and came headlong in

my direction. At the moment I was standing on the edge of a narrow eroded ravine, ten feet deep, with

perpendicular sides. The rhinoceros came on bravely to the edge of this ravineand stopped. Then he gave an

exhibition of unmitigated bad temper most amusing to contemplatefrom my safe position. He snorted, and

stamped, and pawed the earth, and tramped up and down at a great rate. I sat on the opposite bank and

laughed at him. This did not please him a bit, but after many short rushes to the edge of the ravine, he gave it

up and departed slowly, his tail very erect and rigid. >From the persistency with which he tried to get at me, I

The third instance was much more aggravating. In company with Memba Sasa and Fundi I left camp early

one morning to get a waterbuck. Four or five hundred yards out, however, we came on fresh buffalo signs,

not an hour old. To one who knew anything of buffaloes' habits this seemed like an excellent chance, for at

this time of the morning they should be feeding not far away preparatory to seeking cover for the day.

It led us over hills, through valleys, high grass, burned country, brush, thin scrub, and small woodland

alternately. Unfortunately we had happened on these buffalo just as they were about changing district, and

they were therefore travelling steadily. At times the trail was easy to follow and at other times we had to cast

about very diligently to find traces of the direction even such huge animals had taken. It was interesting work,

however, and we drew on steadily, keeping a sharp lookout ahead in case the buffalo had come to a halt in

some shady thicket out of the sun. As the latter ascended the heavens and the scorching heat increased, our

confidence in nearing our quarry ascended likewise, for we knew that buffaloes do not like great heat.

Nevertheless this band continued straight on its way. I think now they must have got scent of our camp, and

had therefore decided to move to one of the alternate and widely separated feeding grounds every herd keeps

in its habitat. Only at noon, and after six hours of steady trailing, covering perhaps a dozen miles, did we

>From the start we had been bothered with rhinoceroses. Five times did we encounter them, standing almost

squarely on the line of the spoor we were following. Then we had to make a wide quiet circle to leeward in

order to avoid disturbing them, and were forced to a very minute search in order to pick up the buffalo tracks

again on the other side. This was at once an anxiety and a delay, and we did not love those rhino.

Finally, at the very edge of the Yatta Plains we overtook the herd, resting for noon in a scattered thicket.

Leaving Fundi, I, with Memba Sasa, stalked down to them. We crawled and crept by inches flat to the

ground, which was so hot that it fairly burned the hand. The sun beat down on us fiercely, and the air was

close and heavy even among the scanty grass tufts in which we were trying to get cover. It was very hard

work indeed, but after a half hour of it we gained a thin bush not over thirty yards from a half dozen dark and

indeterminate bodies dozing in the very centre of a brush patch. Cautiously I wiped the sweat from my eyes

and raised my glasses. It was slow work and patient work, picking out and examining each individual beast

We backed out of there inch by inch, with intention of circling a short distance to the leeward, and then trying

the herd again lower down. But some awkward slight movement, probably on my part, caught the eye of one

of those blessed cows. She threw up her head; instantly the whole thicket seemed alive with beasts. We could

hear them crashing and stamping, breaking the brush, rushing headlong and stopping again; we could even

catch momentary glimpses of dark bodies. After a few minutes we saw the mass of the herd emerge from the

thicket five hundred yards away and flow up over the hill. There were probably a hundred and fifty of them,

and, looking through my glasses, I saw among them two fine old bulls. They were of course not much

alarmed, as only the one cow knew what it was all about anyway, and I suspected they would stop at the next

We had only one small canteen of water with us, but we divided that. It probably did us good, but the

quantity was not sufficient to touch our thirst. For the remainder of the day we suffered rather severely, as the

After a short interval we followed on after the buffaloes. Within a half mile beyond the crest of the hill over

which they had disappeared was another thicket. At the very edge of the thicket, asleep under an outlying

Luck seemed with us at last. The wind was right, and between us and the bull lay only four hundred yards of

kneehigh grass. All we had to do was to get down on our hands and knees, and, without further precautions,

When we were about halfway a rhinoceros suddenly arose from the grass between us and the buffalo, and

What had aroused him, at that distance and upwind, I do not know. It hardly seemed possible that he could

have heard us, for we were moving very quietly, and, as I say, we were downwind. However, there he was on

his feet, sniffing now this way, now that, in search for what had alarmed him. We sank out of sight and lay

For just twentyfive minutes by the watch that rhinoceros looked and looked deliberately in all directions

while we lay hidden waiting for him to get over it. Sometimes he would start off quite confidently for fifty or

sixty yards, so that we thought at last we were rid of him, but always he returned to the exact spot where we

had first seen him, there to stamp, and blow. The buffalo paid no attention to these manifestations. I suppose

everybody in jungleland is accustomed to rhinoceros bad temper over nothing. Twice he came in our

direction, but both times gave it up after advancing twentyfive yards or so. We lay flat on our faces, the

Now the significance of this incident is twofold: first, the fact that, instead of rushing off at the first

intimation of our presence, as would the average rhino, he went methodically to work to find us; second, that

he displayed such remarkable perseverance as to keep at it nearly a half hour. This was a spirit quite at

variance with that finding its expression in the blind rush or in the sudden passionate attack. From that point

of view it seems to me that the interest and significance of the incident can hardly be overstated.

Four or five times we thought ourselves freed of the nuisance, but always, just as we were about to move on,

back he came, as eager as ever to nose us out. Finally he gave it up, and, at a slow trot, started to go away

from there. And out of the three hundred and sixty degrees of the circle where he might have gone he selected

just our direction. Note that this was downwind for him, and that rhinoceroses usually escape upwind.

We laid very low, hoping that, as before, he would change his mind as to direction. But now he was no longer

looking, but travelling. Nearer and nearer he came. We could see plainly his little eyes, and hear the regular

swish, swish, swish of his thick legs brushing through the grass. The regularity of his trot never varied, but to

me lying there directly in his path, he seemed to be coming on altogether too fast for comfort. From our low

level he looked as big as a barn. Memba Sasa touched me lightly on the leg. I hated to shoot, but finally when

he loomed fairly over us I saw it must be now or never. If I allowed him to come closer, he must indubitably

catch the first movement of my gun and so charge right on us before I would have time to deliver even an

ineffective shot. Therefore, most reluctantly, I placed the ivory bead of the great Holland gun just to the point

of his shoulder and pulled the trigger. So close was he that as he toppled forward I instinctively, though

unnecessarily of course, shrank back as though he might fall on me. Fortunately I had picked my spot

properly, and no second shot was necessary. He fell just twentyseven feetnine yards from where we lay!

The buffalo vanished into the blue. We were left with a dead rhino, which we did not want, twelve miles from

camp, and no water. It was a hard hike back, but we made it finally, though nearly perished from thirst.

This beast, be it noted, did not charge us at all, but I consider him as one of the three undoubtedly animated

by hostile intentions. Of the others I can, at this moment, remember five that might or might not have been

actually and maliciously charging when they were killed or dodged. I am no mind reader for rhinoceros. Also

I am willing to believe in their entirely altruistic intentions. Only, if they want to get the practical results of

their said altruistic intentions they must really refrain from coming straight at me nearer than twenty yards. It

has been stated that if one stands perfectly still until the rhinoceros is just six feet away, and then jumps

sideways, the beast will pass him. I never happened to meet anybody who had acted on this theory. I suppose

that such exist: though I doubt if any persistent exponent of the art is likely to exist long. Personally I like my

own method, and stoutly maintain that within twenty yards it is up to the rhinoceros to begin to do the

At first the traveller is pleased and curious over rhinoceros. After he has seen and encountered eight or ten, he

begins to look upon them as an unmitigated nuisance. By the time he has done a week in thick rhinoinfested

They are bad enough in the open plains, where they can be seen and avoided, but in the tall grass or the scrub

they are a continuous anxiety. No cover seems small enough to reveal them. Often they will stand or lie

absolutely immobile until you are within a very short distance, and then will outrageously break out. They

are, in spite of their clumsy build, as quick and active as polo ponies, and are the only beasts I know of

capable of leaping into full speed ahead from a recumbent position. In thorn scrub they are the worst, for

there, no matter how alert the traveller may hold himself, he is likely to come around a bush smack on one.

And a dozen times a day the throatstopping, abrupt crash and smash to right or left brings him up all

standing, his heart racing, the blood pounding through his veins. It is jumpy work, and is very hard on the

temper. In the natural reaction from being startled into fits one snaps back to profanity. The cumulative

effects of the epithets hurled after a departing and inconsiderately hasty rhinoceros may have done something

toward ruining the temper of the species. It does not matter whether or not the individual beast proves

dangerous; he is inevitably most startling. I have come in at night with my eyes fairly aching from spying for

And, as a friend remarked, rhinos are such a mussy death. One poor chap, killed while we were away on our

first trip, could not be moved from the spot where he had been trampled. A few shovelfuls of earth over the

Fortunately, in the thick stuff especially, it is often possible to avoid the chance rhinoceros through the

warning given by the rhinoceros birds. These are birds about the size of a robin that accompany the beast

everywhere. They sit in a row along his back occupying themselves with ticks and a good place to roost.

Always they are peaceful and quiet until a human being approaches. Then they flutter a few feet into the air

uttering a peculiar rapid chattering. Writers with more sentiment than sense of proportion assure us that this

warns the rhinoceros of approaching danger! On the contrary, I always looked at it the other way. The

The safari boys stand quite justly in a holy awe of the rhino. The safari is strung out over a mile or two of

country, as a usual thing, and a downwind rhino is sure to pierce some part of the line in his rush. Then down

go the loads with a smash, and up the nearest trees swarm the boys. Usually their refuges are thorn trees,

armed, even on the main trunk, with long sharp spikes. There is no difficulty in going up, but the gingerly

coming down, after all the excitement has died, is a matter of deliberation and of voices uplifted in woe.

Cuninghame tells of an inadequate slender and springy, but solitary, sapling into which swarmed half his

safari on the advent of a rambunctious rhino. The tree swayed and bent and cracked alarmingly, threatening

to dump the whole lot on the ground. At each crack the boys yelled. This attracted the rhinoceros, which

immediately charged the tree full tilt. He hit square, the tree shivered and creaked, the boys wound their arms

and legs around the slender support and howled frantically. Again and again rhinoceros drew back to repeat

his butting of that tree. By the time Cuninghame reached the spot, the tree, with its despairing burden of black

In the Nairobi Club I met a gentleman with one arm gone at the shoulder. He told his story in a slightly bored

and drawling voice, picking his words very carefully, and evidently most occupied with neither understating

nor overstating the case. It seems he had been out, and had killed some sort of a buck. While his men were

occupied with this, he strolled on alone to see what he could find. He found a rhinoceros, that charged

"When I came to," he said, "it was just coming on dusk, and the lions were beginning to grunt. My arm was

completely crushed, and I was badly bruised and knocked about. As near as I could remember I was fully ten

miles from camp. A circle of carrion birds stood all about me not more than ten feet away, and a great many

others were flapping over me and fighting in the air. These last were so close that I could feel the wind from

their wings. It was rawther gruesome." He paused and thought a a moment, as though weighing his words.

The most calm and imperturbable rhinoceros I ever saw was one that made us a call on the Thika River. It

was just noon, and our boys were making camp after a morning's march. The usual racket was on, and the

usual varied movement of rather confused industry. Suddenly silence fell. We came out of the tent to see the

safari gazing spellbound in one direction. There was a rhinoceros wandering peaceably over the little knoll

back of camp, and headed exactly in our direction. While we watched, he strolled through the edge of camp,

descended the steep bank to the river's edge, drank, climbed the bank, strolled through camp again and

departed over the hill. To us he paid not the slightest attention. It seems impossible to believe that he neither

scented nor saw any evidences of human life in all that populated flat, especially when one considers how

often these beasts will SEEM to become aware of man's presence by telepathy.* Perhaps he was the one

*Opposing theories are those of "instinct," and of slight causes, such a grasshoppers leaping before the

The babies are astonishing and amusing creatures, with blunt noses on which the horns are just beginning to

form, and with even fewer manners than their parents. The mere fact of an 800pound baby does not cease to

be curious. They are truculent little creatures, and sometimes rather hard to avoid when they get on the

warpath. Generally, as far as my observation goes, the mother gives birth to but one at a time. There may be

Rhinoceroses are still very numeroustoo numerous. I have seen as many as fourteen in two hours, and

probably could have found as many more if I had been searching for them. There is no doubt, however, that

this species must be the first to disappear of the larger African animals. His great size combined with his

'orrid 'abits mark him for early destruction. No such dangerous lunatic can be allowed at large in a settled

country, nor in a country where men are travelling constantly. The species will probably be preserved in

appropriate restricted areas. It would be a great pity to have so perfect an example of the Prehistoric Pinhead

For one thing, and for one thing only, is the traveller indebted to the rhinoceros. The beast is lazy, large, and

has an excellent eye for easy ways through. For this reason, as regards the question of good roads, he

combines the excellent qualities of Public Sentiment, the Steam Roller, and the Expert Engineer. Through

thorn thickets impenetrable to anything less armoured than a Dreadnaught like himself he clears excellent

paths. Down and out of eroded ravines with perpendicular sides he makes excellent wide trails, tramped hard,

on easy grades, often with zigzags to ease the slant. In some of the high country where the torrential rains

wash hundreds of such gullies across the line of march it is hardly an exaggeration to say that travel would be

practically impossible without the rhino trails wherewith to cross. Sometimes the perpendicular banks will

extend for miles without offering any natural break down to the streambed. Since this is so I respectfully

(a) That a limited number of these beasts shall be licensed as Trail Rhinos; and that all the rest shall be killed

(d) That as a further precaution for public safety each Trail Rhino shall carry firmly attached to his tail a

suitable red warning flag. Thus the wellknown habit of the rhinoceros of elevating his tail rigidly when

about to charge, or when in the act of charging, will fly the flag as a warning to travellers.

(e) That an official shall be appointed to be known as the Inspector of Rhinos whose duty it shall be to

examine the hobbles, numbers and flags of all Trail Rhinos, and to keep the same in due working order and

And I do submit to all and sundry that the above resolutions have as much sense to them as have most of the

For a number of days we camped in a grove just above a dense jungle and not fifty paces from the bank of a

deep and wide river. We could at various points push through light low undergrowth, or stoop beneath clear

limbs, or emerge on tiny open banks and promontories to look out over the width of the stream. The river

here was some three or four hundred feet wide. It cascaded down through various large boulders and

sluiceways to fall bubbling and boiling into deep water; it then flowed still and sluggish for nearly a half mile

and finally divided into channels around a number of wooded islands of different sizes. In the long still

During our stay these hippos led a life of alarmed and angry care. When we first arrived they were distributed

picturesquely on banks or sandbars, or were lying in midstream. At once they disappeared under water. By

the end of four or five minutes they began to come to the surface. Each beast took one disgusted look,

snorted, and sank again. So hasty was his action that he did not even take time to get a full breath;

consequently up he had to come in not more than two minutes, this time. The third submersion lasted less

than a minute; and at the end of half hour of yelling we had the hippos alternating between the bottom of the

river and the surface of the water about as fast as they could make a round trip, blowing like porpoises. It was

a comical sight. And as some of the boys were always out watching the show, those hippos had no respite

during the daylight hours. From a short distance inland the explosive blowing as they came to the surface

We camped at this spot four days; and never, in that length of time, during the daytime, did those

hippopotamuses take any recreation and rest. To be sure after a little they calmed down sufficiently to remain

on the surface for a half minute or so, instead of gasping a mouthful of air and plunging below at once; but

below was where they considered they belonged most of the time. We got to recognize certain individuals.

They would stare at us fixedly for a while; and then would glump down out of sight like submarines.

When I saw them thus floating with only the very top of the head and snout out of water, I for the first time

appreciated why the Greeks had named them hippopotamusesthe river horses. With the heavy jowl hidden;

and the prominent nostrils, the long reversecurved nose, the wide eyes, and the little pointed ears alone

visible, they resembled more than a little that sort of conventionalized and noble charger seen on the frieze of

There were hippopotamuses of all sizes and of all colours. The little ones, not bigger than a grand piano, were

of flesh pink. Those halfgrown were mottled with pink and black in blotches. The adults were almost

invariably all dark, though a few of them retained still a small pink spot or soa sort of persistence in mature

years of the eternal boy, I suppose. All were very sleek and shiny with the wet; and they had a fashion of

suddenly and violently wiggling one or the other or both of their little ears in ridiculous contrast to the fixed

stare of their bung eyes. Generally they had nothing to say as to the situation, though occasionally some

The ground vegetation for a good quarter mile from the river bank was entirely destroyed, and the earth

beaten and packed hard by these animals. Landing trails had been made leading out from the water by easy

and regular grades. These trails were about two feet wide and worn a foot or so deep. They differed from the

rhino trails, from which they could be easily distinguished, in that they showed distinctly two parallel tracks

separated from each other by a slight ridge. In other words, the hippo waddles. These trails we found as far as

four and five miles inland. They were used, of course, only at night; and led invariably to lush and heavy

feed. While we were encamped there, the country on our side the river was not used by our particular herd of

hippos. One night, however, we were awakened by a tremendous rending crash of breaking bushes, followed

by an instant's silence and then the outbreak of a babel of voices. Then we heard a prolonged swishshsh,

exactly like the launching of a big boat. A hippo had blundered out the wrong side the river, and fairly into

In rivers such as the Tana these great beasts are most extraordinarily abundant. Directly in front of our camp,

for example, were three separate herds which contained respectively about sixty, forty, and twentyfive head.

Within two miles below camp were three other big pools each with its population; while a walk of a mile

above showed about as many more. This sort of thing obtained for practically the whole length of the

riverhundreds of miles. Furthermore, every little tributary stream, no matter how small, provided it can

muster a pool or so deep enough to submerge so large an animal, has its faithful band. I have known of a

hippo quite happily occupying a ditch pool ten feet wide and fifteen feet long. There was literally not room

enough for the beast to turn around; he had to go in at one end and out at the other! Each lake, too, is alive

Nobody disturbs hippos, save for trophies and an occasional supply of meat for the men or of cooking fat for

the kitchen. Therefore they wax fat and sassy, and will long continue to flourish in the land.

It takes time to kill a hippo, provided one is wanted. The mark is small, and generally it is impossible to tell

whether or not the bullet has reached the brain. Harmed or whole the beast sinks anyway. Some hours later

the distention of the stomach will float the body. Therefore the only decent way to do is to take the shot, and

then wait a half day to see whether or not you have missed. There are always plenty of volunteers in camp to

watch the pool, for the boys are extravagantly fond of hippo meat. Then it is necessary to manoeuvre a rope

on the carcass, often a matter of great difficulty, for the other hippos bellow and snort and try to live up to the

circus posters of the Bloodsweating Behemoth of Holy Writ, and the crocodiles like dark meat very much.

Usually one offers especial reward to volunteers, and shoots into the water to frighten the beasts. The

volunteer dashes rapidly across the shallows, makes a swift plunge, and clambers out on the floating body as

Then he makes fast the rope, and everybody tails on and tows the whole outfit ashore. On one occasion the

volunteer produced a fish line and actually caught a small fish from the floating carcass! This sounds like a

Funny Face was the smallest, furriest little monkey you ever saw. I never cared for monkeys before; but this

one was altogether engaging. He had thick soft fur almost like that on a Persian cat, and a tiny human black

face, and hands that emerged from a ruff; and he was about as big as oldfashioned dolls used to be before

they began to try to imitate real babies with them. That is to say, he was that big when we said farewell to

him. When we first knew him, had he stood in a half pint measure he could just have seen over the rim. We

caught him in a little thorn ravine all by himself, a fact that perhaps indicates that his mother had been killed,

or perhaps that he, like a good little Funny Face, was merely staying where he was told while she was away.

At any rate he fought savagely, according to his small powers. We took him ignominiously by the scruff of

the neck, haled him to camp, and dumped him down on Billy. Billy constructed him a beautiful belt by

sacrificing part of a kodak strap (mine), and tied him to a chop box filled with dry grass. Thenceforth this

Within a few hours his confidence in life was restored. He accepted small articles of food from our hands,

eyeing us intently, retired and examined them. As they all proved desirable, he rapidly came to the conclusion

that these new large strange monkeys, while not so beautiful and agile as his own people, were nevertheless a

good sort after all. Therefore he took us into his confidence. By next day he was quite tame, would submit to

being picked up without struggling, and had ceased trying to take an end off our various fingers. In fact when

the finger was presented, he would seize it in both small black hands; convey it to his mouth; give it several

mild and gentle lovechews; and then, clasping it with all four hands, would draw himself up like a little

athlete and seat himself upright on the outspread palm. Thence he would survey the world, wrinkling up his

This chastened and scholarly attitude of mind lasted for four or five days. Then Funny Face concluded that he

understood all about it, had settled satisfactorily to himself all the problems of the world and his relations to

it, and had arrived at a good working basis for life. Therefore these questions ceased to occupy him. He

dismissed them from his mind completely, and gave himself over to lighthearted frivolity.

His disposition was flighty but full of elusive charm. You deprecated his lack of serious purpose in life,

disapproved heartily of his irresponsibility, but you fell to his engaging qualities. He was a typical example of

the lovable goodfornaught. Nothing retained his attention for two consecutive minutes. If he seized a nut

and started for his chop box with it, the chances were he would drop it and forget all about it in the interest

excited by a crawling ant or the colour of a flower. His elfish face was always alight with the play of

emotions and of flashing changing interests. He was greatly given to starting off on very important errands,

In this he contrasted strangely with his friend Darwin. Darwin was another monkey of the same species,

caught about a week later. Darwin's face was sober and pondering, and his methods direct and effective. No

side excursions into the brilliant though evanescent fields of fancy diverted him from his ends. These were,

generally, to get the most and best food and the warmest corner for sleep. When he had acquired a nut, a

kernel of corn, or a piece of fruit, he sat him down and examined it thoroughly and conscientiously and then,

conscientiously and thoroughly, he devoured it. No extraneous interest could distract his attention; not for a

moment. That he had sounded the seriousness of life is proved by the fact that he had observed and

understood the flighty character of Funny Face. When Funny Face acquired a titbit, Darwin took up a

humpbacked position near at hand, his bright little eyes fixed on his friend's activities. Funny Face would

nibble relishingly at his prune for a moment or so; then an altogether astonishing butterfly would flitter by

just overhead. Funny Face, lost in ecstasy would gaze skyward after the departing marvel. This was Darwin's

opportunity. In two hops he was at Funny Face's side. With great deliberation, but most businesslike

directness, Darwin disengaged Funny Face's unresisting fingers from the prune, seized it, and retired. Funny

Face never knew it; his soul was far away after the blazoned wonder, and when it returned, it was not to

prunes at all. They were forgotten, and his wandering eye focussed back to a bright button in the grass. Thus

Darwin's attitude was always serious, and his expression grave. When he condescended to romp with Funny

Face one could see that it was not for the mere joy of sport, but for the purposes of relaxation. If offered a gift

he always examined it seriously before finally accepting it, turning it over and over in his hands, and

considering it with wrinkled brow. If you offered anything to Funny Face, no matter what, he dashed up,

seized it on the fly, departed at speed uttering grateful low chatterings; probably dropped and forgot it in the

"These people," said Darwin to himself, "on the whole, and as an average, seem to give me appropriate and

pleasing gifts. To be sure, it is always well to see that they don't try to bunco me with olive stones or such

worthless trash, but still I believe they are worth cultivating and standing in with."

""It strikes me," observed Funny Face to himself, "that my adorable Memsahib and my beloved bwana have

been very kind to me today, though I don't remember precisely how. But I certainly do love them!"

We cut good sized holes on each of the four sides of their chop box to afford them ventilation on the march.

The box was always carried on one of the safari boy's heads: and Funny Face and Darwin gazed forth with

great interest. It was very amusing to see the big negro striding jauntily along under his light burden; the large

brown winking eyes glued to two of the apertures. When we arrived in camp and threw the box cover open,

they hopped forth, shook themselves, examined their immediate surroundings and proceeded to take a little

exercise. When anything alarmed them, such as the shadow of a passing hawk, they skittered madly up the

nearest thing in sighttent pole, tree, or human form and scolded indignantly or chittered in a low tone

according to the degree of their terror. When Funny Face was very young, indeed, the grass near camp caught

fire. After the excitement was over we found him completely buried in the straw of his box, crouched, and

whimpering like a child. As he could hardly, at his tender age, have had any previous experience with fire,

The monkeys had only one genuine enemy. That was an innocent plush lion named Little Simba. It had been

given us in joke before we left California, we had tucked it into an odd corner of our trunk, had discovered it

there, carried it on safari out of sheer idleness, and lo! it had become an important member of the expedition.

Every morning Mahomet or Yusuf packed itor rather himcarefully away in the tin box. Promptly at the end

of the day's march Little Simba was haled forth and set in a place of honour in the centre of the table, and

reigned thereor sometimes in a little grass jungle constructed by his faithful servitorsuntil the march was

again resumed. His job in life was to look after our hunting luck. When he failed to get us what we wanted,

he was punished; when he procured us what we desired he was rewarded by having his tail sewed on afresh,

or by being presented with new black thread whiskers, or even a tiny blanket of Mericani against the cold.

This last was an especial favour for finally getting us the greater kudu. Naturally as we did all this in the spirit

of an idle joke our rewards and punishments were rather desultory. To our surprise, however, we soon found

that our boys took Little Simba quite seriously. He was a fetish, a little god, a power of good or bad luck. We

did not appreciate this point until one evening, after a rather disappointing day, Mahomet came to us bearing

"Bwana," said he respectfully, "is it enough that I shut Simba in the tin box, or do you wish to flog him?"

On one very disgraceful occasion, when everything went wrong, we plucked Little Simba from his high

throne and with him made a beautiful dropkick out into the tall grass. There, in a loud tone of voice, we

sternly bade him lie until the morrow. The camp was bungeyed. It is not given to every people to treat its

gods in such fashion: indeed, in very deed, great is the white man! To be fair, having published Little Simba's

disgrace, we should publish also Little Simba's triumph: to tell how, at the end of a certain very lucky three

months' safari he was perched atop a pole and carried into town triumphantly at the head of a howling,

singing procession of a hundred men. He returned to America, and now, having retired from active

professional life, is leading an honoured old age among the trophies he helped to procure.

Funny Face first met Little Simba when on an early investigating tour. With considerable difficulty he had

shinnied up the table leg, and had hoisted himself over the awkwardly projecting table edge. When almost

within reach of the fascinating affairs displayed atop, he looked straight up into the face of Little Simba!

Funny Face shrieked aloud, let go all holds and fell off flat on his back. Recovering immediately, he climbed

just as high as he could, and proceeded, during the next hour, to relieve his feelings by the most insulting

chatterings and grimaces. He never recovered from this initial experience. All that was necessary to evoke all

sorts of monkey talk was to produce Little Simba. Against his benign plush front then broke a storm of

remonstrance. He became the object of slow advances and sudden scurrying, shrieking retreats, that lasted

just as long as he stayed there, and never got any farther than a certain quite conservative point. Little Simba

The Cape Buffalo is one of the four dangerous kinds of African big game; of which the other three are the

lion, the rhinoceros, and the elephant. These latter are familiar to us in zoological gardens, although the

African and larger form of the rhinoceros and elephant are seldom or never seen in captivity. But buffaloes

are as yet unrepresented in our living collections. They are huge beasts, tremendous from any point of view,

whether considered in height, in mass, or in power. At the shoulder they stand from just under five feet to just

under six feet in height; they are short legged, heavy bodied bull necked, thick in every dimension. In colour

they are black as to hair, and slate gray as to skin; so that the individual impression depends on the thickness

of the coat. They wear their horns parted in the middle, sweeping smoothly away in the curves of two great

bosses either side the head. A good trophy will measure in spread from forty inches to four feet. Four men

will be required to carry in the head alone. As buffaloes when disturbed or suspicious have a habit of

thrusting their noses up and forward, that position will cling to one's memory as the most typical of the

A great many hunters rank the buffalo first among the dangerous beasts. This is not my own opinion, but he

is certainly dangerous enough. He possesses the size, power, and truculence of the rhinoceros, together with

all that animal's keenness of scent and hearing but with a sharpness of vision the rhinoceros has not. While

not as clever as either the lion or the elephant, he is tricky enough when angered to circle back for the

purpose of attacking his pursuers in the rear or flank, and to arrange rather ingenious ambushes for the same

purpose. He is rather more tenacious of life than the rhinoceros, and will carry away an extraordinary quantity

of big bullets. Add to these considerations the facts that buffaloes go in herds; and that, barring luck, chances

are about even they will have to be followed into the thickest cover, it can readily be seen that their pursuit is

The problem would be simplified were one able or willing to slip into the thicket or up to the grazing herd

and kill the nearest beast that offers. As a matter of fact an ordinary herd will contain only two or three bulls

worth shooting; and it is the hunter's delicate task to glide and crawl here and there, with due regard for sight,

scent and sound, until he has picked one of these from the scores of undesirables. Many times will he worm

his way by inches toward the great black bodies half defined in the screen of thick undergrowth only to find

that he has stalked cows or small bulls. Then inch by inch he must back out again, unable to see twenty yards

to either side, guiding himself by the probabilities of the faint chance breezes in the thicket. To right and left

he hears the quiet continued crop, crop, crop, sound of animals grazing. The sweat runs down his face in

streams, and blinds his eyes, but only occasionally and with the utmost caution can he raise his handor,

better, lower his headto clear his vision. When at last he has withdrawn from the danger zone, he wipes his

face, takes a drink from the canteen, and tries again. Sooner or later his presence comes to the notice of some

old cow. Behind the leafy screen where unsuspected she has been standing comes the most unexpected and

heartjumping crash! Instantly the jungle all about roars into life. The great bodies of the alarmed beasts hurl

themselves through the thicket, smash! bang! crash! smash! as though a tornado were uprooting the forest.

Then abruptly a complete silence! This lasts but ten seconds or so; then off rushes the wild stampede in

another direction; only again to come to a listening halt of breathless stillness. So the hunter, unable to see

anything, and feeling very small, huddles with his gunbearers in a compact group, listening to the wild

surging short rushes, now this way, now that, hoping that the stampede may not run over him. If by chance it

does, he has his two shots and the possibility of hugging a tree while the rush divides around him. The latter

is the most likely; a single buffalo is hard enough to stop with two shots, let alone a herd. And yet,

sometimes, the mere flash and noise will suffice to turn them, provided they are not actually trying to attack,

but only rushing indefinitely about. Probably a man can experience few more thrilling moments than he will

enjoy standing in one of the small leafy rooms of an African jungle while several hundred tons of buffalo

In the best of circumstances it is only rarely that having identified his big bull, the hunter can deliver a

knockdown blow. The beast is extraordinarily vital, and in addition it is exceedingly difficult to get a fair,

open shot. Then from the danger of being trampled down by the blind and senseless stampede of the herd he

passes to the more defined peril from an angered and cunning single animal. The majority of fatalities in

hunting buffaloes happen while following wounded beasts. A flank charge at close range may catch the most

experienced man; and even when clearly seen, it is difficult to stop. The buffalo's wide bosses are a helmet to

his brain, and the body shot is always chancy. The beast tosses his victim, or tramples him, or pushes him

He who would get his trophy, however, is not alwaysperhaps is not generallyforced into the thicket to get

it. When not much disturbed, buffaloes are in the habit of grazing out into the open just before dark; and of

returning to their thicket cover only well after sunrise. If the hunter can arrange to meet his herd at such a

time, he stands a very good chance of getting a clear shot. The job then requires merely ordinary caution and

manoeuvring; and the only danger, outside the everpresent one from the wounded beast, is that the herd may

The difficulty generally is to locate your beasts. They wander all night, and must be blundered upon in the

early morning before they have drifted back into the thickets. Sometimes, by sending skilled trackers in

several directions, they can be traced to where they have entered cover. A messenger then brings the white

man to the place, and every one tries to guess at what spot the buffaloes are likely to emerge for their evening

stroll. It is remarkably easy to make a wrong guess, and the remaining daylight is rarely sufficient to repair a

mistake. And also, in the case of a herd ranging a wide country with much tall grass and several drinking

holes, it is rather difficult, without very good luck, to locate them on any given night or morning. A few

These difficulties, while in no way formidable, are real enough in their small way; but they are immensely

increased when the herds have been often disturbed. Disturbance need not necessarily mean shooting. In

countries unvisited by white men often the pastoral natives will so annoy the buffalo by shoutings and other

means, whenever they appear near the tame cattle, that the huge beasts will come practically nocturnal. In

that case only the rankest luck will avail to get a man a chance in the open. The herds cling to cover until

after sundown and just at dusk; and they return again very soon after the first streaks of dawn. If the hunter

just happens to be at the exact spot, he may get a twilight shot when the glimmering ivory of his front sight is

As an illustration of the first condition might be instanced an afternoon on the Tana. The weather was very

hot. We had sent three lots of men out in different directions, each under the leadership of one of the

gunbearers, to scout, while we took it easy in the shade of our banda, or grass shelter, on the bank of the river.

About one o'clock a messenger came into camp reporting that the men under Mavrouki had traced a herd to

The way led through thin scrub up the long slope of a hill that broke on the other side into undulating grass

ridges that ended in a range of hills. These were about four or five miles distant, and thinly wooded on sides

and lower slopes with what resembled a small liveoak growth. Among these trees, our guide told us, the

The sun was very hot, and all the animals were still. We saw impalla in the scrub, and many giraffes and

bucks on the plains. After an hour and a half's walk we entered the parklike groves at the foot of the hills, and

our guide began to proceed more cautiously. He moved forward a few feet, peered about, retraced his steps.

Suddenly his face broke into a broad grin. Following his indication we looked up, and there in a tree almost

above us roosted one of our boys sound asleep! We whistled at him. Thereupon he awoke, tried to look very

alert, and pointed in the direction we should go. After an interval we picked up another sentinel, and another,

and another until, passed on thus from one to the next, we traced the movements of the herd. Finally we came

upon Mavrouki and Simba under a bush. From them, in whispers, we learned that the buffalo were karibu

sanavery near; that they had fed this far, and were now lying in the long grass just ahead. Leaving the men,

we now continued our forward movement on hands and knees, in single file. It was very hot work, for the sun

beat square down on us, and the tall grass kept off every breath of air. Every few moments we rested, lying

on our faces. Occasionally, when the grass shortened, or the slant of ground tended to expose us, we lay quite

flat and hitched forward an inch at a time by the strength of our toes. This was very severe work indeed, and

we were drenched in perspiration. In fact, as I had been feeling quite ill all day, it became rather doubtful

However after a while we managed to drop down into an eroded deep little ravine. Here the air was like that

of a furnace, but at least we could walk upright for a few rods. This we did, with the most extraordinary

precautions against even the breaking of a twig or the rolling of a pebble. Then we clambered to the top of the

bank, wormed our way forward another fifty feet to the shelter of a tiny bush, and stretched out to recuperate.

We lay there some time, sheltered from the sun. Then ahead of us suddenly rumbled a deep bellow. We were

Cautiously F., who was nearest the centre of the bush, raised himself alongside the stem to look. He could see

where the beasts were lying, not fifty yards away, but he could make out nothing but the fact of great black

bodies taking their ease in the grass under the shade of trees. So much he reported to us; then rose again to

Thus we waited the rest of the afternoon. The sun dipped at last toward the west, a faint irregular breeze

wandered down from the hills, certain birds awoke and uttered their clear calls, an unsuspected kongoni

stepped from the shade of a tree over the way and began to crop the grass, the shadows were lengthening

through the trees. Then ahead of us an uneasiness ran through the herd. We in the grass could hear the

mutterings and grumblings of many great animals. Suddenly F. snapped his fingers, stooped low and darted

Across a short open space we ran, bent double to the shelter of a big ant hill. Peering over the top of this we

found ourselves within sixty yards of a long compact column of the great black beasts, moving forward

orderly to the left, the points of the cow's horns, curved up and in, tossing slowly as the animals walked. On

It had been agreed that B. was to have the shot. Therefore he opened fire with his 405 Winchester, a weapon

altogether too light for this sort of work. At the shot the herd dashed forward to an open grass meadow a few

rods away, wheeled and faced back in a compact mass, their noses thrust up and out in their typical fashion,

Taking advantage both of the scattered cover, and the half light of the shadows we slipped forward as rapidly

and as unobtrusively as we could to the edge of the grass meadow. Here we came to a stand eighty yards

from the buffaloes. They stood compactly like a herd of cattle, staring, tossing their heads, moving slightly,

their wild eyes searching for us. I saw several good bulls, but always they moved where it was impossible to

shoot without danger of getting the wrong beast. Finally my chance came; I planted a pair of Holland bullets

The herd broke away to the right, sweeping past us at close range. My bull ran thirty yards with them, then

went down stone dead. When we examined him we found the hole made by B.'s Winchester bullet; so that

quite unintentionally and by accident I had fired at the same beast. This was lucky. The trophy, by hunter's

Therefore F. and I alone followed on after the herd. It was now coming on dusk. Within a hundred yards we

began to see scattered beasts. The formation of the herd had broken. Some had gone on in flight, while others

in small scattered groups would stop to stare back, and would then move slowly on for a few paces before

stopping again. Among these I made out a bull facing us about a hundred and twentyfive yards away, and

Now occurred an incident which I should hesitate to relate were it not that both F. and myself saw it. We have

since talked it over, compared our recollections, and found them to coincide in every particular.

As we moved cautiously in pursuit of the slowly retreating herd three cows broke back and came running

down past us. We ducked aside and hid, of course, but noticed that of the three two were very young, while

one was so old that she had become fairly emaciated, a very unusual thing with buffaloes. We then followed

the herd for twenty minutes, or until twilight, when we turned back. About halfway down the slope we again

met the three cows, returning. They passed us within twenty yards, but paid us no attention whatever. The old

cow was coming along very reluctantly, hanging back at every step, and every once in a while swinging her

head viciously at one or the other of her two companions. These escorted her on either side, and a little to the

rear. They were plainly urging her forward, and did not hesitate to dig her in the ribs with their horns

whenever she turned especially obstinate. In fact they acted exactly like a pair of cowboys HERDING a

recalcitrant animal back to its band and I have no doubt at all that when they first by us the old lady was

making a break for liberty in the wrong direction, AND THAT THE TWO YOUNGER COWS WERE

TRYING TO ROUND HER BACK! Whether they were her daughters or not is problematical; but it certainly

seemed that they were taking care of her and trying to prevent her running back where it was dangerous to go.

I never heard of a similar case. though Herbert Ward* mentions, without particulars that elephants AND

After passing these we returned to where B. and the men, who had now come up, had prepared the dead bull

for transportation. We started at once, travelling by the stars, shouting and singing to discourage the lions, but

Some months later, and many hundreds of miles farther south, Billy and I found ourselves alone with twenty

men, and two weeks to pass until C.our companion at the timeshould return from a long journey out with a

wounded man. By slow stages, and relaying back and forth, we landed in a valley so beautiful in every way

that we resolved to stay as long as possible. This could be but five days at most. At the end of that time we

The valley was in the shape of an ellipse, the sides of which were formed by great clifflike mountains, and

the other two by hills lower, but still of considerable boldness and size. The longest radius was perhaps six or

eight miles, and the shortest three or four. At one end a canyon dropped away to a lower level, and at the

other a pass in the hills gave over to the country of the Narassara River. The name of the valley was

>From the great mountains flowed many brooks of clear sparkling water, that ran beneath the most beautiful

of open jungles, to unite finally in one main stream that disappeared down the canyon. Between these brooks

were low broad rolling hills, sometimes grass covered, sometimes grown thinly with bushes. Where they

headed in the mountains, long stringers of forest trees ran up to blocklike groves, apparently pasted like

wafers against the base of the cliffs, but in reality occupying spacious slopes below them.

We decided to camp at the foot of a long grass slant within a hundred yards of the trees along one of the small

streams. Before us we had the sweep of brown grass rising to a clear cut skyline; and all about us the distant

great hills behind which the day dawned and fell. One afternoon a herd of giraffes stood silhouetted on this

skyline quite a half hour gazing curiously down on our camp. Hartebeeste and zebra swarmed in the grassy

openings; and impalla in the brush. We saw singsing and steinbuck, and other animals, and heard lions

nearly every night. But principally we elected to stay because a herd of buffaloes ranged the foothills and

dwelt in the groves of forest trees under the cliffs. We wanted a buffalo; and as Lengeetoto is practically

unknown to white men, we thought this a good chance to get one. In that I reckoned without the fact that at

certain seasons the Masai bring their cattle in, and at such times annoy the buffalo all they can.

We started out well enough. I sent Memba Sasa with two men to locate the herd. About three o'clock a

messenger came to camp after me. We plunged through our own jungle, crossed a low swell, traversed

another jungle, and got in touch with the other two men. They reported the buffalo had entered the thicket a

few hundred yards below us. Cautiously reconnoitering the ground it soon became evident that we would be

forced more definitely to locate the herd. To be sure, they had entered the stream jungle at a known point, but

there could be no telling how far they might continue in the thicket, nor on what side of it they would emerge

The going was very thick, naturally, and we could not see very far ahead. Our object was not now to try for a

bull, but merely to find where the herd was feeding, in order that we might wait for it to come out. However,

we were brought to a stand, in the middle of a jungle of green leaves, by the cropping sound of a beast

grazing just the other side of a bush. We could not see it, and we stood stock still in the hope of escaping

discovery ourselves. But an instant later a sudden crash of wood told us we had been seen. It was near work.

The gunbearers crouched close to me. I held the heavy double gun ready. If the beast had elected to charge I

would have had less than ten yards within which to stop it. Fortunately it did not do so. But instantly the herd

was afoot and off at full speed. A locomotive amuck in a kindling pile could have made no more appalling a

succession of rending crashes than did those heavy animals rushing here and there through the thick woody

growth. We could see nothing. Twice the rush started in our direction, but stopped as suddenly as it had

begun, to be succeeded by absolute stillness when everything, ourselves included, held its breath to listen.

Finally, the first panic over, the herd started definitely away downstream. We ran as fast as we could out of

the jungle to a commanding position on the hill. Thence we could determine the course of the herd. It

continued on downstream as far as we could follow the sounds in the convolutions of the hills. Realizing that

it would improbably recover enough from its alarmed condition to resume its regular habits that day, we

Next morning Memba Sasa and I were afield before daylight. We took no other men. In hunting I am a strong

disbeliever in the common habit of trailing along a small army. It is simple enough, in case the kill is made,

to send back for help. No matter how skilful your men are at stalking, the chances of alarming the game are

greatly increased by numbers; while the possibilities of misunderstanding the plan of campaign, and so

getting into the wrong place at the wrong time, are infinite. Alone, or with one gunbearer, a man can slip in

and out a herd of formidable animals with the least chances of danger. Merely going out after camp meat is of

We did not follow in the direction taken by the herd the night before, but struck off toward the opposite side

of the valley. For two hours we searched the wooded country at the base of the cliff mountains, working

slowly around the circle, examining every inlet, ravine and gully. Plenty of other sorts of game we saw,

including elephant tracks not a half hour old; but no buffalo. About eight o'clock, however, while looking

through my glasses, I caught sight of some tiny chunky black dots crawling along below the mountains

diagonally across the valley, and somewhat over three miles away. We started in that direction as fast as we

could walk. At the end of an hour we surmounted the last swell, and stood at the edge of a steep drop.

Immediately below us flowed a goodsized stream through a high jungle over the tops of which we looked to

a triangular gentle slope overgrown with scattered bushes and high grass. Beyond this again ran another

jungle, angling up hill from the first, to end in a forest of trees about thirty or forty acres in extent. This

jungle and these trees were backed up against the slope of the mountain. The buffaloes we had first seen

above the grove: they must now have sought cover among either the trees or the lower jungle, and it seemed

reasonable that the beasts would emerge on the grass and bush area late in the afternoon. Therefore Memba

Sasa and I selected good comfortable sheltered spots, leaned our backs against rocks, and resigned ourselves

to long patience. It was now about nine o'clock in the morning, and we could not expect our game to come

out before half past three at earliest. We could not, however, go away to come back later because of the

chance that the buffaloes might take it into their heads to go travelling. I had been fooled that way before. For

this reason, also, it was necessary, every five minutes or so, to examine carefully all our boundaries; lest the

The hours passed very slowly. We made lunch last as long as possible. I had in my pocket a small edition of

Hawthorne's "The House of the Seven Gables," which I read, pausing every few minutes to raise my glasses

for the periodical examination of the country. The mental focussing back from the pale gray half light of

Hawthorne's New England to the actuality of wild Africa was a most extraordinary experience.

Through the heat of the day the world lay absolutely silent. At about halfpast three, however, we heard

rumblings and low bellows from the trees a half mile away. I repocketed Hawthorne, and aroused myself to

The ensuing two hours passed more slowly than all the rest of the day, for we were constantly on the lookout.

The buffaloes delayed most singularly, seemingly reluctant to leave their deep cover. The sun dropped behind

the mountains, and their shadow commenced to climb the opposite range. I glanced at my watch. We had not

Fifteen minutes of this passed. It began to look as though our long and monotonous wait had been quite in

vain; when, right below us, and perhaps five hundred yards away, four great black bodies fed leisurely from

the bushes. Three of them we could see plainly. Two were bulls of fair size. The fourth, half concealed in the

In order to reach them we would have to slip down the face of the hill on which we sat, cross the stream

jungle at the bottom, climb out the other side, and make our stalk to within range. With a half hour more of

daylight this would have been comparatively easy, but in such circumstances it is difficult to move at the

same time rapidly and unseen. However, we decided to make the attempt. To that end we disencumbered

ourselves of all our extraslunch box, book, kodak, glasses, etc.and wormed our way as rapidly as possible

toward the bottom of the hill. We utilized the cover as much as we were able, but nevertheless breathed a sigh

of relief when we had dropped below the line of the jungle. We wasted very little time crossing the latter,

save for precautions against noise. Even in my haste, however, I had opportunity to notice its high and austere

character, with the arching overhead vines, and the clear freedom from undergrowth in its heart. Across this

cleared space we ran at full speed, crouching below the grasp of the vines, splashed across the brook and

dashed up the other bank. Only a faint glimmer of light lingered in the jungle. At the upper edge we paused,

collected ourselves, and pushed cautiously through the thick borderscreen of bush.

The twilight was just fading into dusk. Of course we had taken our bearings from the other hill; so now, after

reassuring ourselves of them, we began to wriggle our way at a great pace through the high grass. Our

calculations were quite accurate. We stalked successfully, and at last, drenched in sweat, found ourselves

lying flat within ten yards of a small bush behind which we could make out dimly the black mass of the

Although it was now practically dark, we had the game in our own hands. From our low position the animal,

once it fed forward from behind the single small bush, would be plainly outlined against the sky, and at ten

yards I should be able to place my heavy bullets properly, even in the dark. Therefore, quite easy in our

minds, we lay flat and rested. At the end of twenty seconds the animal began to step forward. I levelled my

double gun, ready to press trigger the moment the shoulder appeared in the clear. Then against the saffron sky

"Faru!" I whispered disgustedly to Memba Sasa. With infinite pains we backed out, then retreated to a safe

distance. It was of course now too late to hunt up the three genuine buffaloes of this illassorted group.

In fact our main necessity was to get through the river jungle before the afterglow had faded from the sky,

leaving us in pitch darkness. I sent Memba Sasa across to pick up the effects we had left on the opposite

I had plunged ahead thus, for two or three hundred yards, when I was brought up short by the violent snort of

a rhinoceros just off the starboard bow. He was very close, but I was unable to locate him in the dusk. A

cautious retreat and change of course cleared me from him, and I was about to start on again full speed when

once more I was halted by another rhinoceros, this time dead ahead. Attempting to back away from him, I

aroused another in my rear; and as though this were not enough a fourth opened up to the left.

It was absolutely impossible to see anything ten yards away unless it happened to be silhouetted against the

sky. I backed cautiously toward a little bush, with a vague idea of having something to dodge around. As the

old hunter said when, unarmed, he met the bear, "Anything, even a newspaper, would have come handy." To

my great joy I backed against a conical ant hill four or five feet high. This I ascended and began antirhino

demonstrations. I had no time to fool with rhinos, anyway. I wanted to get through that jungle before the

leopards left their family circles. I hurled clods of earth and opprobrious shouts and epithets in the four

directions of my four obstreperous friends, and I thought I counted four reluctant departures. Then, with

considerable doubt, I descended from my ant hill and hurried down the slope, stumbling over grass

hummocks, colliding with bushes, tangling with vines, but progressing in a gratifyingly rhinoless condition.

Five minutes cautious but rapid feeling my way brought me through the jungle. Shortly after I raised the

The next two days were repetitions, with slight variation, of this experience, minus the rhinos! Starting from

camp before daylight we were only in time to see the herdalways aggravatingly on the other side of the

cover, no matter which side we selected for our approach, slowly grazing into the dense jungle. And always

they emerged so late and so far away that our very best efforts failed to get us near them before dark. The

On the fourth day, which must be our last in Longeetoto, we found that the herd had shifted to fresh cover

three miles along the base of the mountains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but about halfpast three we

sallied forth dutifully and took position on a hill overlooking the new hiding place. This consisted of a wide

grove of forest trees varied by occasional open glades and many dense thickets. So eager were we to win

what had by now developed into a contest that I refused to shoot a lioness with a threequartersgrown cub

Time passed as usual until nearly sunset. Then through an opening into one of the small glades we caught

sight of the herd travelling slowly but steadily from right to left. The glimpse was only momentary, but it was

sufficient to indicate the direction from which we might expect them to emerge. Therefore we ran at top

speed down from our own hill, tore through the jungle at its foot, and hastily, but with more caution, mounted

the opposite slope through the scattered groves and high grass. We could hear occasionally indications of the

buffaloes' slow advance, and we wanted to gain a good ambuscade above them before they emerged. We

found it in the shape of a small conical hillock perched on the side hill itself, and covered with long grass. It

commanded open vistas through the scattered trees in all directions. And the thicket itself ended not fifty

yards away. No buffalo could possibly come out without our seeing him; and we had a good half hour of

We settled ourselves, unlimbered for action, and got our breath. The buffaloes came nearer and nearer. At

length, through a tiny opening a hundred yards away, we could catch momentary glimpses of their great black

bodies. I thrust forward the safety catch and waited. Finally a half dozen of the huge beasts were feeding not

six feet inside the circle of brush, and only thirtyodd yards from where we lay.

And they came no farther! I never passed a more heartbreaking half hour of suspense than that in which

little by little the daylight and our hopes faded, while those confounded buffaloes moved slowly out to the

very edge of the thicket, turned, and moved as slowly back again. At times they came actually into view. We

could see their sleek black bodies rolling lazily into sight and back again, like seals on the surface of water,

but never could we make out more than that. I could have had a dozen good shots, but I could not even guess

what I would be shooting at. And the daylight drained away and the minutes ticked by!

Finally, as I could see no end to this performance save that to which we had been so sickeningly accustomed

in the last four days, I motioned to Memba Sasa, and together we glided like shadows into the thicket.

There it was already dusk. We sneaked breathlessly through the small openings, desperately in a hurry,

almost painfully on the alert. In the dark shadow sixty yards ahead stood a half dozen monstrous bodies all

facing our way. They suspected the presence of something unusual, but in the darkness and the stillness they

could neither identify it nor locate it exactly. I dropped on one knee and snatched my prism glasses to my

eyes. The magnification enabled me to see partially into the shadows. Every one of the group carried the

An instant after I had made out this fact, they stampeded across our face. The whole band thundered and

Desperately we sprang after them, our guns atrail, our bodies stooped low to keep down in the shadow of the

earth. And suddenly, without the slightest warning we plumped around a bush square on top of the entire

herd. It had stopped and was staring back in our direction. I could see nothing but the wild toss of a hundred

pair of horns silhouetted against such of the irregular saffron afterglow as had not been blocked off by the

They stood in a long compact semicircular line thirty yards away, quite still, evidently staring intently into

the dusk to find out what had alarmed them. At any moment they were likely to make another rush; and if

they did so in the direction they were facing, they would most certainly run over us and trample us down.

Remembering the dusk I thought it likely that the unexpected vivid flash of the gun might turn them off

before they got started. Therefore I raised the big double Holland, aimed below the line of heads, and was just

about to pull trigger when my eye caught the silhouette of a pair of horns whose tips spread out instead of

turning in. This was a bull, and I immediately shifted the gun in his direction. At the heavy double report, the

herd broke wildly to right and left and thundered away. I confess I was quite relieved.

A low moaning bellow told us that our bull was down. The last few days' experience at being out late had

taught us wisdom so Memba Sasa had brought a lantern. By the light of this, we discovered our bull down,

We felt ourselves legitimately open to congratulations, for we had killed this bull from a practically nocturnal

herd, in the face of considerable danger and more than considerable difficulty. Therefore we shook hands and

By now it was pitch dark in the thicket, and just about so outside. We had to do a little planning. I took the

Holland gun, gave Memba Sasa the Winchester, and started him for camp after help. As he carried off the

For the past hour a fine drizzle had been falling; and the whole country was wet from previous rains. I hastily

dragged in all the dead wood I could find near, collected what ought to be good kindling, and started in to

light a fire. Now, although I am no Boy Scout, I have lit several fires in my time. But never when I was at the

same time in such a desperate need and hurry; and in possession of such poor materials. The harder I worked,

the worse things sputtered and smouldered. Probably the relief from the long tension of the buffalo hunt had

something to do with my general piffling inefficiency. If I had taken time to do a proper job once instead of a

halfway job a dozen times, as I should have done and usually would have done, I would have had a fire in no

time. I imagine I was somewhat scared. The lioness and her hulking cub had smelled the buffalo and were

prowling around. I could hear them purring and uttering their hollow grunts. However, at last the flame held.

I fed it sparingly, lit a pipe, placed the Holland gun next my hand, and resigned myself to waiting. For two

hours this was not so bad. I smoked, and rested up, and dried out before my little fire. Then my fuel began to

run low. I arose and tore down all the remaining dead limbs within the circle of my firelight. These were not

many, so I stepped out into the darkness for more. Immediately I was warned back by a deep growl!

The next hour was not one of such solid comfort. I began to get parsimonious about my supply of firewood,

trying to use it in such a manner as to keep up an adequate blaze, and at the same time to make it last until

Memba Sasa should return with the men. I did it, though I got down to charred ends before I was through.

The old lioness hung around within a hundred yards or so below, and the buffalo herd, returning, filed by

above, pausing to stamp and snort at the fire. Finally, about nine o'clock, I made out two lanterns bobbing up

The last incident to be selected from many experiences with buffaloes took place in quite an unvisited district

over the mountains from the Loieta Plains. For nearly two months we had ranged far in this lovely upland

country of groves and valleys and wide grass bottoms between hills, hunting for greater kudu. One day we all

set out from camp to sweep the base of a range of low mountains in search of a good specimen of Newman's

hartebeeste, or anything else especially desirable that might happen along. The gentle slope from the

mountains was of grass cut by numerous small ravines grown with low brush. This brush was so scanty as to

afford but indifferent cover for anything larger than one of the small grass antelopes. All the ravines led down

a mile or so to a deeper main watercourse paralleling the mountains. Some water stood in the pools here; and

the cover was a little more dense, but consisted at best of but a "stringer" no wider than a city street. Flanking

the stringer were scattered high bushes for a few yards; and then the open country. Altogether as unlikely a

We collected our Newmanii after rather a long hunt; and just at noon, when the heat of the day began to come

on, we wandered down to the water for lunch. Here we found a good clear pool and drank. The boys began to

make themselves comfortable by the water's edge; C. went to superintend the disposal of Billy's mule. Billy

had sat down beneath the shade of the most hospitable of the bushes a hundred feet or so away, and was

taking off her veil and gloves. I was carrying to her the lunch box. When I was about halfway from where the

boys were drinking at the stream's edge to where she sat, a buffalo bull thrust his head from the bushes just

the other side of her. His head was thrust up and forward, as he reached after some of the higher tender leaves

on the bushes. So close was he that I could see plainly the drops glistening on his moist black nose. As for

I had no weapon, and any moment might bring some word or some noise that would catch the animal's

attention. Fortunately, for the moment, every one, relaxed in the first reaction after the long morning, was

keeping silence. If the buffalo should look down, he could not fail to see Billy; and if he saw her, he would

As has been explained, snapping the fingers does not seem to reach the attention of wild animals. Therefore I

snapped mine as vigorously as I knew how. Billy heard, looked toward me, turned in the direction of my

gaze, and slowly sank prone against the ground. Some of the boys heard me also, and I could see the heads of

all of them popping up in interest from the banks of the stream. My cautious but very frantic signals to lie low

were understood: the heads dropped back. Mavrouki, a rifle in each hand, came worming his way toward me

through the grass with incredible quickness and agility. A moment later he thrust the 405 Winchester into my

This weapon, powerful and accurate as it is, the best of the lot for lions, was altogether too small for the

tremendous brute before me. However, the Holland was in camp; and I was very glad in the circumstances to

get this. The buffalo had browsed slowly forward into the clear, and was now taking the top off a small bush,

and facing half away from us. It seemed to me quite the largest buffalo I had ever seen, though I should have

been willing to have acknowledged at that moment that the circumstances had something to do with the

estimate. However, later we found that the impression was correct. He was verily a giant of his kind. His

height at the shoulder was five feet ten inches; and his build was even chunkier than the usual solid robust

pattern of buffaloes. For example, his neck, just back of the horns, was two feet eight inches thick! He

Once the rifle was in my hands I lost the feeling of utter helplessness, and began to plan the best way out of

the situation. As yet the beast was totally unconscious of our presence; but that could not continue long.

There were too many men about. A chance current of air from any one of a half dozen directions could not

fail to give him the scent. Then there would be lively doings. It was exceedingly desirable to deliver the first

careful blow of the engagement while he was unaware. On the other hand, his present attitudehalf away

from mewas not favourable; nor, in my exposed position dared I move to a better place. There seemed

nothing better than to wait; so wait we did. Mavrouki crouched close at my elbow, showing not the faintest

The buffalo browsed for a minute or so; then swung slowly broadside on. So massive and low were the

bosses of his horns that the brain shot was impossible. Therefore I aimed low in the shoulder. The shock of

the bullet actually knocked that great beast off his feet! My respect for the hitting power of the 405 went up

several notches. The only trouble was that he rebounded like a rubber ball. Without an instant's hesitation I

gave him another in the same place. This brought him to his knees for an instant; but he was immediately

afoot again. Billy had, with great good sense and courage, continued to lie absolutely flat within a few yards

of the beast, Mavrouki and I had kept low, and C. and the men were out of sight. The buffalo therefore had

seen none of his antagonists. He charged at a guess, and guessed wrong. As he went by I fired at his head,

and, as we found out afterward, broke his jaw. A moment later C.'s great elephant gun roared from

somewhere behind me as he fired by a glimpse through the brush at the charging animal. It was an excellent

When the buffalo broke through the screen of brush I dashed after him, for I thought our only chance of

avoiding danger lay in keeping close track of where that buffalo went. On the other side the bushes I found a

little grassy opening, and then a small but dense thicket into which the animal had plunged. To my left, C.

was running up, followed closely by Billy, who, with her usual good sense, had figured out the safest place to

The animal's movements could be plainly followed by the sound of his crashing. We heard him dash away

some distance, pause, circle a bit to the right, and then come rushing back in our direction. Stooping low we

peered into the darkness of the thicket. Suddenly we saw him, not a dozen yards away. He was still afoot, but

very slow. I dropped the magazine of five shots into him as fast as I could work the lever. We later found all

the bulletholes in a spot as big as the palm of your hand. These successive heavy blows delivered all in the

same place were too much for even his tremendous vitality; and slowly he sank on his side.

Most people have heard of Juja, the modern dwelling in the heart of an African wilderness, belonging to our

own countryman, Mr. W. N. McMillan. If most people are as I was before I saw the place, they have

We came to Juja at the end of a wide circle that had lasted three months, and was now bringing us back again

toward our starting point. For five days we had been camped on top a high bluff at the junction of two rivers.

When we moved we dropped down the bluff, crossed one river, and, after some searching, found our way up

the other bluff. There we were on a vast plain bounded by mountains thirty miles away. A large white and

unexpected sign told us we were on Juja Farm, and warned us that we should be careful of our fires in the

For an hour we plodded slowly along. Herds of zebra and hartebeeste drew aside before us, dark heavy

wildebeestethe gnustood in groups at a safe distance their heads low, looking exactly like our vanished

bison; ghostlike bands of Thompson's gazelles glided away with their smooth regular motion. On the vast and

treeless plains single small objects standing above the general uniformity took an exaggerated value; so that,

before it emerged from the swirling heat mirage, a solitary tree might easily be mistaken for a group of

buildings or a grove. Finally, however, we raised above the horizon a dark straight clump of trees. It danced

in the mirage, and blurred and changed form, but it persisted. A strange patch of white kept appearing and

disappearing again. This resolved itself into the side of a building. A spiderlegged water tower appeared

Gradually we drew up on these. A bit later we swung to the right around a close wire fence ten feet high,

passed through a gate, and rode down a long slanting avenue of young trees. Between the trees were century

plants and flowers, and a clipped border ran before them. The avenue ended before a low white bungalow,

with shady verandas all about it, and vines. A formal flower garden lay immediately about it, and a very tall

flag pole had been planted in front. A hundred feet away the garden dropped off steep to one of the deep river

Two whiterobed Somalis appeared on the veranda to inform us that McMillan was off on safari. Our own

boys approaching at this moment, we thereupon led them past the house, down another long avenue of trees

and flowers, out into an open space with many buildings at its edges, past extensive stables, and through

another gate to the open plains once more. Here we made camp. After lunch we went back to explore.

Juja is situated on the top of a high bluff overlooking a river. In all directions are tremendous grass plains.

Donya Sabukthe Mountain of Buffaloesis the only landmark nearer than the dim mountains beyond the

edge of the world, and that is a day's journey away. A rectangle of possibly forty acres has been enclosed on

three sides by animalproof wire fence. The fourth side is the edge of the bluff. Within this enclosure have

been planted many trees, now of good size; a pretty garden with abundance of flowers, ornamental shrubs, a

sundial, and lawns. In the river bottom land below the bluff is a very extensive vegetable and fruit garden,

with cornfields, and experimental plantings of rubber, and the like. For the use of the people of Juja here are

Juja House, as has been said, stands back a hundred feet from a bend in the bluffs that permits a view straight

up the river valley. It is surrounded by gardens and trees, and occupies all one end of the enclosed rectangle.

Farther down and perched on the edge of a bluff, are several pretty little bungalows for the accommodation of

the superintendent and his family, for the bachelors' mess, for the farm offices and dispensary, and for the

dairy room, the iceplant and the postoffice and telegraph station. Back of and inland from this row on the

edge of the cliff, and scattered widely in open space, are a large store stocked with everything on earth, the

Somali quarters of low whitewashed buildings, the cattle corrals, the stables, wild animal cages, granaries,

blacksmith and carpenter shops, wagon sheds and the like. Outside the enclosure, and a half mile away, are

the conical grass huts that make up the native village. Below the cliff is a concrete dam, an electric light

Such is a relief map of Juja proper. Four miles away, and on another river, is Long Juja, a strictly utilitarian

affair where grow ostriches, cattle, sheep, and various irrigated things in the bottom land. All the rest of the

farm, or estate, or whatever one would call it, is open plain, with here and there a river bottom, or a trifle of

brush cover. But never enough to constitute more than an isolated and lonesome patch.

Before leaving London we had received from McMillan earnest assurances that he kept open house, and that

we must take advantage of his hospitality should we happen his way. Therefore when one of his whiterobed

Somalis approached us to inquire respectfully as to what we wanted for dinner, we yielded weakly to the

temptation and told him. Then we marched us boldly to the house and took possession.

All around the house ran a veranda, shaded bamboo curtains and vines, furnished with the luxurious

teakwood chairs of the tropics of which you can so extend the arms as to form two comfortable and elevated

rests for your feet. Horns of various animals ornamented the walls. A megaphone and a huge terrestrial

telescope on a tripod stood in one corner. Through the latter one could examine at favourable times the herds

And insidemind you, we were fresh from three months in the wildernesswe found rugs, pictures, wall

paper, a pianola, many books, baths, beautiful white bedrooms with snowy mosquito curtains, electric lights,

running water, and above all an atmosphere of homelike comfort. We fell into easy chairs, and seized books

and magazines. The Somalis brought us trays with iced and fizzy drinks in thin glasses. When the time came

we crossed the veranda in the rear to enter a spacious separate diningroom. The table was white with

napery, glittering with silver and glass, bright with flowers. We ate leisurely of a wellserved course dinner,

ending with black coffee, shelled nuts, and candied fruit. Replete and satisfied we strolled back across the

We held still. From the velvet darkness came the hurried petulant barking of zebra; three hyenas howled.

Next day we left all this; and continued our march. About a month later, however, we encountered McMillan

himself in Nairobi. I was just out from a very hard trip to the coastBilly not with meand wanted nothing so

much as a few days' rest. McMillan's cordiality was not to be denied, however, so the very next day found us

tucking ourselves into a buckboard behind four white Abyssinian mules. McMillan, some Somalis and

Captain Duirs came along in another similar rig. Our driver was a Hottentot halfcaste from South Africa. He

had a flat face, a yellow skin, a quiet manner, and a competent hand. His name was Michael. At his feet

crouched a small Kikuyu savage, in blanket ear ornaments and all the fixings, armed with a long lashed whip

and raucous voice. At any given moment he was likely to hop out over the moving wheel, run forward, bat

the off leading mule, and hop back again, all with the most extraordinary agility. He likewise hurled what

sounded like very opprobrious epithets at such natives as did not get out the way quickly enough to suit him.

The expression of his face, which was that of a person steeped in woe, never changed.

We rattled out of Nairobi at a great pace, and swung into the Fort Hall Road. This famous thoroughfare, one

of the three or four made roads in all East Africa, is about sixty miles long. It is a strategic necessity but is

used by thousands of natives on their way to see the sights of the great metropolis. As during the season there

is no water for much of the distance, a great many pay for their curiosity with their lives. The road skirts the

base of the hills, winding in and out of shallow canyons and about the edges of rounded hills. To the right one

We met an almost unbroken succession of people. There were long pack trains of women, quite cheerful, bent

over under the weight of firewood or vegetables, many with babies tucked away in the folds of their

garments; mincing dandified warriors with poodledog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewelery brought to a

high polish a fatuous expression of selfsatisfaction on their faces, carrying each a section of sugarcane

which they now used as a staff but would later devour for lunch; bearers, under convoy of straight soldierly

redsashed Sudanese, transporting Government goods; wildeyed staring shenzis from the forest, with

matted hair and goatskin garments, looking ready to bolt aside at the slightest alarm; coveys of marvellous

and giggling damsels, their finegrained skin anointed and shining with red oil, strung with beads and shells,

very coquettish and sure of their feminine charm; naked small boys marching solemnly like their elders;

camel trains from faroff Abyssinia or Somaliland under convoy of whiteclad turbaned grave men of

beautiful features; donkey safaris in charge of dirty degenerate looking East Indians carrying trade goods to

some distant postall these and many more, going one way or the other, drew one side, at the sight of our

About two o'clock we suddenly turned off from the road, apparently quite at random, down the long grassy

interminable incline that dipped slowly down and slowly up again over great distance to form the Athi Plains.

Along the road, with its endless swarm of humanity, we had seen no game, but after a half mile it began to

appear. We encountered herds of zebra, kongoni, wildebeeste, and "Tommies" standing about or grazing,

sometimes almost within range from the moving buckboard. After a time we made out the trees and water

tower of Juja ahead; and by four o'clock had turned into the avenue of trees. Our approach had been seen. Tea

The next morning we inspected the stables, built of stone in a hollow square, like a fort, with box stalls

opening directly into the courtyard and screened carefully against the deadly flies. The horses, beautiful

creatures, were led forth each by his proud and anxious syce. We tried them all, and selected our mounts for

the time of our stay. The syces were small black men, lean and well formed, accustomed to running afoot

wherever their charges went, at walk, lope or gallop. Thus in a day they covered incredible distances over all

sorts of country; but were always at hand to seize the bridle reins when the master wished to dismount. Like

the rickshaw runners in Nairobi, they wore their hair clipped close around their bullet heads and seemed to

have developed into a small compact hard type of their own. They ate and slept with their horses.

Just outside the courtyard of the stables a little barred window had been cut through. Near this were

congregated a number of Kikuyu savages wrapped in their blankets, receiving each in turn a portion of

cracked corn from a dusty white man behind the bars. They were a solemn, unsmiling, strange type of savage,

and they performed all the manual work within the enclosure, squatting on their heels and pulling

methodically but slowly at the weeds, digging with their pangas, carrying loads: to and fro, or solemnly

pushing a lawn mower, blankets wrapped shamelessly about their necks. They were harried about by a

redfaced beefy English gardener with a marvellous vocabulary of several native languages and a short

hippohide whip. He talked himself absolutely purple in the face without, as far as my observation went,

penetrating an inch below the surface. The Kikuyus went right on doing what they were already doing in

exactly the same manner. Probably the purple Englishman was satisfied with that, but I am sure apoplexy of

Before the store building squatted another group of savages. Perhaps in time one of the lot expected to buy

something; or possibly they just sat. Nobody but a storekeeper would ever have time to find out. Such is the

native way. The storekeeper in this case was named John. Besides being storekeeper, he had charge of the

issuing of all the house supplies, and those for the white men's mess; he must do all the worrying about the

upper class natives; he must occasionally kill a buck for the meat supply; and he must be prepared to take out

any stray tenderfeet that happen along during McMillan's absence, and persuade them that they are mighty

hunters. His domain was a fascinating place, for it contained everything from pianola parts to patent

washstands. The next best equipped place of the kind I know of is the property room of a moving picture

We went to mail a letter, and found the postmaster to be a gentlevoiced, polite little Hindu, who greeted us

smilingly, and attempted to conceal a work of art. We insisted; whereupon he deprecatingly drew forth a copy

of a newspaper cartoon having to do with Colonel Roosevelt's visit. It was copied with mathematical

exactness, and highly coloured in a manner to throw into profound melancholy the chauffeur of a coloured

supplement press. We admired and praised; whereupon, still shyly, he produced more, and yet again more

copies of the same cartoon. When we left, he was reseating himself to the painstaking valueless labour with

which he filled his days. Three times a week such mail as Juja gets comes in via native runner. We saw the

latter, a splendid figure, almost naked, loping easily, his little bundle held before him.

Down past the office and dispensary we strolled, by the comfortable, airy, white man's clubhouse. The

headman of the native population passed us with a dignified salute; a fine upstanding deepchested man, with

a lofty air of fierce pride. He and his handful of soldiers alone of the natives, except the Somalis and syces,

dwelt within the compound in a group of huts near the gate. There when off duty they might be seen

polishing their arms, or chatting with their women. The latter were ladies of leisure, with wonderful chignons,

much jewelery, and patterned Mericani wrapped gracefully about their pretty figures.

By the time we had seen all these things it was noon. We ate lunch. The various members of the party

decided to do various things. I elected to go out with McMillan while he killed a wildebeeste, and I am very

You must imagine us driving out the gate in a buckboard behind four small but lively white Abyssinian

mules. In the front seat were Michael, the Hottentot driver, and McMillan's Somali gunbearer. In the rear seat

were McMillan and myself, while a small black syce perched precariously behind. Our rifles rested in a sling

before us. So we jogged out on the road to Long Juju, examining with a critical eye the herds of game to right

and left of us. The latter examined us, apparently, with an eye as critical. Finally, in a herd of zebra, we

The wildebeeste is the Jekyll and Hyde of the animal kingdom. His usual and familiar habit is that of a heavy,

sluggish animal, like our vanished bison. He stands solid and inert, his head down; he plods slowly forward

in single file, his horns swinging, each foot planted deliberately. In short, he is the personification of dignity,

solid respectability, gravity of demeanour. But then all of a sudden, at any small interruption, he becomes the

giddiest of created beings. Up goes his head and tail, he buck jumps, cavorts, gambols, kicks up his heels,

bounds stifflegged, and generally performs like an irresponsible infant. To see a whole herd at once of these

grave and reverend seigneurs suddenly blow up into such lightheaded capers goes far to destroy one's faith

Also the wildebeeste is not misnamed. He is a conservative, and he sees no particular reason for allowing his

curiosity to interfere with his preconceived beliefs. The latter are distrustful. Therefore he and his females

and his youngI should say smalldepart when one is yet far away. I say small, because I do not believe that

any wildebeeste is ever young. They do not resemble calves, but are exact replicas of the big ones, just as

When we caught sight of this lone wildebeeste among the zebra, I naturally expected that we would pull up

the buckboard, descend, and approach to within some sort of long range. Then we would open fire. Barring

luck, the wildebeeste would thereupon depart "wilder and beestier than ever," as John McCutcheon has it.

Not at all! Michael, the Hottentot, turned the buckboard off the road, headed toward the distant quarry, and

charged at full speed! Over stones we went that sent us feet into the air, down and out of shallow gullies that

seemed as though they would jerk the pole from the vehicle with a grand rattletybang, every one hanging on

for his life. I was entirely occupied with the state of my spinal column and the retention of my teeth, but

McMillan must have been keeping his eye on the game. One peculiarity of the wildebeeste is that he cannot

see behind him, and another is that he is curious. It would not require a very large bump of curiosity,

however, to cause any animal to wonder what all the row was about. There could be no doubt that this animal

would sooner or later stop for an instant to look for the purpose of seeing what was up in jungleland; and just

before doing so he would, for a few steps, slow down from a gallop to a trot. McMillan was watching for this

Instantly Michael threw his weight into the right rein and against the brake. We swerved so violently to the

right and stopped so suddenly that I nearly landed on the broad prairies. The manoeuvre fetched us up

broadside. The small black syceand heaven knows how HE had managed to hang ondarted to the heads of

the leading mules. At the same moment the wildebeeste turned, and stopped; but even before he had swung

his head, McMillan had fired. It was extraordinarily good, quick work, the way he picked up the long range

from the spurts of dust where the bullets hit. At the third or fourth shots he landed one. Immediately the beast

was off again at a tearing run pursued by a rapid fusillade from the remaining shots. Then with a violent jerk

This time, since the animal was wounded, he made for rougher country. And everywhere that wildebeeste

went we too were sure to go. We hit or shaved boulders that ought to have smashed a wheel, we tore through

thick brush regardless. Twice we charged unhesitatingly over apparent precipices. I do not know the name of

the manufacturer of the buckboard. If I did, I should certainly recommend it here. Twice more we swerved to

our broadside and cut loose the port batteries. Once more McMillan hit. Then, on the fourth "run," we gained

perceptibly. The beast was weakening. When he came to a stumbling halt we were not over a hundred yards

from him, and McMillan easily brought him down. We had chased him four or five miles, and McMillan had

fired nineteen shots, of which two had hit. The rifle practice throughout had been remarkably good, and a

treat to watch. Personally, besides the fun of attending the show, I got a mighty good afternoon's exercise.

We loaded the game aboard and jogged slowly back to the house, for the mules were pretty tired. We found a

neighbour, Mr. Heatley of Kamiti Ranch who had "dropped down" twelve miles to see us. On account of a

theft McMillan now had all the Somalis assembled for interrogation on the side verandas. The interrogation

did not amount to much, but while it was going on the Sudanese headman and his askaris were quietly

searching the boys' quarters. After a time they appeared. The suspected men had concealed nothing, but the

searchers brought with them three of McMillan's shirts which they had found among the effects of another,

Abadie hesitated. Then he evidently reflected that there is slight use in having a deity unless one makes use of

"Bwana," said he with an engaging air of belief and candour, "God must have put them there!"

That evening we planned a "general day" for the morrow. We took boys and buckboards and saddlehorses,

beaters, shotguns, rifles, and revolvers, and we sallied forth for a grand and joyous time. The day from a

sporting standpoint was entirely successful, the bag consisting of two waterbuck, a zebra, a big warthog, six

hares, and six grouse. Personally I was a little hazy and uncertain. By evening the fever had me, and though I

stayed at Juja for six days longer, it was as a patient to McMillan's unfailing kindness rather than as a

A short time later, at about middle of the rainy season, McMillan left for a little fishing off Catalina Island.

The latter is some fourteen thousand miles of travel from Juja. Before leaving on this flying trip, McMillan

"If," said he, "you want to go it alone, you can go out and use Juja as long as you please."

This offer, or, rather, a portion of it, you may be sure, we accepted promptly. McMillan wanted in addition to

leave us his servants; but to this we would not agree. Memba Sasa and Mahomet were, of course, members of

our permanent staff. In addition to them we picked up another house boy, named Leyeye. He was a Masai.

These proud and aristocratic savages rarely condescend to take service of any sort except as herders; but

when they do they prove to be unusually efficient and intelligent. We had also a Somali cook, and six

ordinary bearers to do general labour. This small safari we started off afoot for Juja. The whole lot cost us

Next day we ourselves drove out in the mule buckboard. The rains were on, and the road was very muddy.

After the vital tropical fashion the grass was springing tall in the natural meadows and on the plains and the

brieflived white lilies and an abundance of ground flowers washed the slopes with colour. Beneath the grass

covering, the entire surface of the ground was an inch or so deep in water. This was always most surprising,

for, apparently, the whole country should have been high and dry. Certainly its level was that of a plateau

rather than a bottom land; so that one seemed always to be travelling at an elevation. Nevertheless walking or

riding we were continually splashing, and the only dry going outside the occasional rare "islands" of the

slight undulations we found near the very edge of the bluffs above the rivers. There the drainage seemed

sufficient to carry off the excess. Elsewhere the hardpan or bedrock must have been exceptionally level and

Nothing nor nobody seemed to mind this much. The game splashed around merrily, cropping at the tall grass;

the natives slopped indifferently, and we ourselves soon became so accustomed to two or three inches of

water and wet feet that after the first two days we never gave those phenomena a thought.

The world above at this season of the year was magnificent. The African heavens are always widely spacious,

but now they seemed to have blown even vaster than usual. In the sweep of the vision four or five heavy

black rainstorms would be trailing their skirts across an infinitely remote prospect; between them white piled

scud clouds and cumuli sailed like ships; and from them reflected so brilliant a sunlight and behind all

showed so dazzling a blue sky that the general impression was of a fine day. The rainstorms' gray veils

slanted; tremendous patches of shadow lay becalmed on the plains; bright sunshine poured abundantly its

So brilliant with both direct and reflected light and the values of contrast were the heavens, that when one

happened to stand within one of the great shadows it became extraordinarily difficult to make out game on

the plains. The pupils contracted to the brilliancy overhead. Often too, near sunset, the atmosphere would

become suffused with a lurid saffron light that made everything unreal and ghastly. At such times the game

seemed puzzled by the unusual aspect of things. The zebra especially would bark and stamp and stand their

ground, and even come nearer out of sheer curiosity. I have thus been within fifty yards of them, right out in

the open. At such times it was as though the sky, instead of rounding over in the usual shape, had been thrust

up at the western horizon to the same incredible height as the zenith. In the space thus created were piled

great clouds through which slanted broad bands of yellow light on a diminished world.

It rained with great suddenness on our devoted heads, and with a curious effect of metamorphoslng the entire

universe. One moment all was clear and smiling, with the trifling exception of distant rain squalls that

amounted to nothing in the general scheme. Then the horizon turned black, and with incredible swiftness the

dark clouds materialized out of nothing, rolled high to the zenith like a wave, blotted out every last vestige of

brightness. A heavy oppressive still darkness breathed over the earth. Then through the silence came a

faraway soft drumming sound, barely to be heard. As we bent our ears to catch this it grew louder and louder,

approaching at breakneck speed like a troop of horses. It became a roar fairly terrifying in its mercilessly

And what a deluge! Facing it we found difficulty in breathing. In six seconds every stitch we wore was

soaked through, and only the notebook, tobacco, and matches bestowed craftily in the crown of the cork

helmet escaped. The visible world was dark and contracted. It seemed that nothing but rain could anywhere

exist; as though this storm must fill all space to the horizon and beyond. Then it swept on and we found

ourselves steaming in bright sunlight. The dry flat prairie (if this was the first shower for some time) had

suddenly become a lake from the surface of which projected bushes and clumps of grass. Every game trail

But most pleasant were the evenings at Juja, when, safe indoors, we sat and listened to the charge of the

storm's wild horsemen, and the thunder of its drumming on the tin roof. The onslaughts were as fierce and

abrupt as those of Cossacks, and swept by as suddenly. The roar died away in the distance, and we could then

Pleasant it was also to walk out from Juja in almost any direction. The compound, and the buildings and trees

within it, soon dwindled in the distances of the great flat plain. Herds of game were always in sight, grazing,

lying down, staring in our direction. The animals were incredibly numerous. Some days they were fairly

tame, and others exceedingly wild, without any rhyme or reason. This shyness or the reverse seemed not to be

individual to one herd; but to be practically universal. On a "wild day" everything was wild from the Lone

Tree to Long Juju. It would be manifestly absurd to guess at the reason. Possibly the cause might be

atmospheric or electrical; possibly days of nervousness might follow nights of unusual activity by the lions;

At Juja we got to know the kongonis even better than we had before. They are comical, quizzical beasts, with

longnosed humorous faces, a singularly awkward construction, a shambling gait; but with altruistic

dispositions and an ability to get over the ground at an extraordinary speed. Every move is a joke; their

expression is always one of grieved but humorous astonishment. They quirk their heads sidewise or down and

stare at an intruder with the most comical air of skeptical wonder. "Well, look who's here!" says the

"Pooh!" says the kongoni himself, after a good look, "pooh! pooh!" with the most insulting inflection.

He is very numerous and very alert. One or more of a grazing herd are always perched as sentinels atop ant

hills or similar small elevations. On the sIightest intimation of danger they give the alarm, whereupon the

herd makes off at once, gathering in all other miscellaneous game that may be in the vicinity. They will go

out of their way to do this, as every African hunter knows. It immensely complicates matters; for the

sportsman must not only stalk his quarry, but he must stalk each and every kongoni as well. Once, in another

part of the country, C. and I saw a kongoni leave a band of its own species far down to our right, gallop

toward us and across our front, pick up a herd of zebra we were trying to approach and make off with them to

safety. We cursed that kongoni, but we admired him, for he deliberately ran out of safety into danger for the

purpose of warning those zebra. So seriously do they take their job as policemen of the plains that it is very

common for a lazy single animal of another species to graze in a herd of kongonis simply for the sake of

The kongoni progresses by a series of long high bounds. While in midair he half tucks up his feet, which

gives him the appearance of an automatic toy. This gait looks deliberate, but is really quite fast, as the

mounted sportsman discovers when he enters upon a vain pursuit. If the horse is an especially good one, so

that the kongoni feels himself a trifle closely pressed, the latter stops bouncing and runs. Then he simply

These beasts are also given to chasing each other all over the landscape. When a gentleman kongoni

conceives a dislike for another gentleman kongoni, he makes no concealment of his emotions, but marches up

and prods him in the ribs. The ensuing battle is usually fought out very stubbornly with much feinting,

parrying, clashing of the lyreshaped horns; and a good deal of crafty circling for a favourable opening. As

far as I was ever able to see not much real damage is inflicted; though I could well imagine that only skilful

fence prevented unpleasant punctures in soft spots. After a time one or the other feels himself weakening. He

dashes strongly in, wheels while his antagonist is braced, and makes off. The enemy pursues. Then,

apparently, the chase is on for the rest of the day. The victor is not content merely to drive his rival out of the

country; he wants to catch him. On that object he is very intent; about as intent as the other fellow is of

getting away. I have seen two such beasts almost run over a dozen men who were making no effort to keep

out of sight. Long after honour is satisfied, indeed, as it seems to me, long after the dictates of common

decency would call a halt that persistent and singleminded pursuer bounds solemnly and conscientiously

These and the zebra and wildebeeste were at Juja the most conspicuous game animals. If they could not for

the moment be seen from the veranda of the house itself, a short walk to the gate was sufficient to reveal

many hundreds. Among them fed herds of the smaller Thompson's gazelle, or "Tommies." So small were

To me there was neverending fascination in walking out over those sloppy plains in search of adventure,

and in the pleasure of watching the beasts. Scarcely less fascination haunted a stroll down the river canyons

or along the tops of the bluffs above them. Here the country was broken into rocky escarpments in which

were caves; was clothed with low and scattered brush; or was wooded in the bottom lands. Naturally an

entirely different set of animals dwelt here; and in addition one was often treated to the romance of surprise.

Herds of impalla haunted these edges; graceful creatures, trim and pretty with wide horns and beautiful

glowing red coats. Sometimes they would venture out on the open plains, in a very compact band, ready to

break back for cover at the slightest alarm; but generally fed inside the fringe of bushes. Once from the bluff

above I saw a beautiful herd of over a hundred pacing decorously along the river bottom below me, single

file, the oldest buck at the head, and the miscellaneous small buck bringing up the rear after the does. I

shouted at them. Immediately the solemn procession broke. They began to leap, springing straight up into the

air as though from a released spring, or diving forward and upward in long graceful bounds like dolphins at

sea. These leaps were incredible. Several even jumped quite over the backs of others; and all without a

Along the fringe of the river, too, dwelt the lordly waterbuck, magnificent and proud as the stags of Landseer;

and the tiny steinbuck and duiker, no bigger than jackrabbits, but perfect little deer for all that. The

incredibly plebeian warthog rooted about; and down in the bottom lands were leopards. I knocked one off a

rock one day. In the river itself dwelt hippopotamuses and crocodiles. One of the latter dragged under a

yearling calf just below the house itself, and while we were there. Besides these were of course such affairs as

hyenas and jackals, and great numbers of small game: hares, ducks, three kinds of grouse, guinea fowl,

In the drier extents of dry grass atop the bluffs the dance birds were especially numerous; each with his dance

ring nicely trodden out, each leaping and falling rhythmically for hours at a time. Toward sunset great flights

of sand grouse swarmed across the yellowing sky from some distant feeding ground.

Near Juja I had one of the three experiences that especially impressed on my mind the abundance of African

big game. I had stalked and wounded a wildebeeste across the N'derogo River, and had followed him a mile

or so afoot, hoping to be able to put in a finishing shot. As sometimes happens the animal rather gained

strength as time went on; so I signalled for my horse, mounted, and started out to run him down. After a

quarter mile we began to pick up the game herds. Those directly in our course ran straight away; other herds

on either side, seeing them running, came across in a slant to join them. Inside of a half mile I was driving

before me literally thousands of head of game of several varieties. The dust rose in a choking cloud that fairly

obscured the landscape, and the drumming of the hooves was like the stampeding of cattle. It was a

On the plains of Juja, also, I had my one real African Adventure, when, as in the Sunday Supplements, I

Stared Death in the Facealso everlasting disgrace and much derision. We were just returning to the farm

after an afternoon's walk, and as we approached I began to look around for much needed meat. A herd of

zebra stood in sight; so leaving Memba Sasa I began to stalk them. My usual weapon for this sort of thing

was the Springfield, for which I carried extra cartridges in my belt. On this occasion, however, I traded with

Memba Sasa for the 405, simply for the purpose of trying it out. At a few paces over three hundred yards I

landed on the zebra, but did not knock him down. Then I set out to follow. It was a long job and took me far,

for again and again he joined other zebra, when, of course, I could not tell one from t'other. My only

expedient was to frighten the lot. There upon the uninjured ones would distance the one that was hurt. The

latter kept his eye on me. Whenever I managed to get within reasonable distance, I put up the rear sight of the

405, and let drive. I heard every shot hit, and after each hit was more than a little astonished to see the zebra

still on his feet, and still able to wobble on.* The fifth shot emptied the rifle. As I had no more cartridges for

this arm, I approached to within sixty yards, and stopped to wait either for him to fall, or for a very distant

Memba Sasa to come up with more cartridges. Then the zebra waked up. He put his ears back and came

straight in my direction. This rush I took for a blind death flurry, and so dodged off to one side, thinking that

he would of course go by me. Not at all! He swung around on the circle too, and made after me. I could see

that his ears were back, eyes blazing, and his teeth snapping with rage. It was a malicious charge, and, as

such, with due deliberation, I offer it to sportsman's annals. As I had no more cartridges I ran away as fast as I

could go. Although I made rather better time than ever I had attained to before, it was evident that the zebra

would catch me; and as the brute could paw, bite, and kick, I did not much care for the situation. Just as he

had nearly reached me, and as I was trying to figure on what kind of a fight I could put up with a clubbed rifle

barrel, he fell dead. To be killed by a lion is at least a dignified death; but to be mauled by a zebra!

I am sorry I did not try out this heavycalibred rifle oftener at long range. It was a marvellously effective

weapon at close quarters; but I have an ideabut only a tentative ideathat above three hundred yards its

velocity is so reduced by air resistance against the big blunt bullet as greatly to impair its hitting powers.

We generally got back from our walks or rides just before dark to find the house gleaming with lights, a hot

bath ready, and a tray of good wet drinks next the easy chairs. There, after changing our clothes, we sipped

and read the paperstwo months off the press, but fresh arrived for all thatuntil a whiterobed, dignified

figure appeared in the doorway to inform us that dinner was ready. Our ways were civilized and soft, then,

until the morrow when once again, perhaps, we went forth into the African wilderness.

Juja is a place of startling contrastsof naked savages clipping formal hedges, of windows opening from a

perfectly appointed brilliantly lighted diningroom to a night whence float the lost wails of hyenas or the

deep grumbling of lions, of cushioned luxurious chairs in reach of many books, but looking out on hills

where the game herds feed, of comfortable beds with fine linen and soft blankets where one lies listening to

the voices of an African night, or the weirder minor house noises whose origin and nature no man could

guess, of tennis courts and summer houses, of lawns and hammocks, of sundials and clipped hedges separated

only by a few strands of woven wire from fields identical with those in which roamed the cave men of the

Pleistocene. But to Billy was reserved the most ridiculous contrast of all. Her bedroom opened to a veranda a

few feet above a formal garden. This was a very formal garden, with a sundial, gravelled walks, bordered

flower beds, and clipped border hedges. One night she heard a noise outside. Slipping on a warm wrap and

seizing her trusty revolver she stole out on the veranda to investigate. She looked over the veranda rail. There

just below her, trampling the flower beds, tracking the gravel walks, endangering the sundial, stood a

We had neighbours six or seven miles away. At times they came down to spend the night and luxuriate in the

comforts of civilization. They were a Lady A., and her nephew, and a young Scotch acquaintance the nephew

had taken into partnership. They had built themselves circular houses of papyrus reeds with conical thatched

roofs and earth floors, had purchased ox teams and gathered a dozen or so Kikuyus, and were engaged in

breaking a farm in the wilderness. The life was rough and hard, and Lady A. and her nephew gently bred, but

they seemed to be having quite cheerfully the time of their lives. The game furnished them meat, as it did all

of us, and they hoped in time that their labours would make the land valuable and productive. Fascinating as

was the life, it was also one of many deprivations. At Juja were a number of old copies of Life, the pretty

girls in which so fascinated the young men that we broke the laws of propriety by presenting them, though

they did not belong to us. C., the nephew, was of the finest type of young Englishman, clean cut, enthusiastic,

good looking, with an air of engaging vitality and optimism. His partner, of his own age, was an insufferable

youth. Brought up in some small Scottish valley, his outlook had never widened. Because he wanted to buy

four oxen at a cheaper price, he tried desperately to abrogate quarantine regulations. If he had succeeded, he

would have made a few rupees, but would have introduced disease in his neighbours' herds. This

consideration did not affect him. He was much given to sneering at what he could not understand; and

therefore, a great deal met with his disapproval. His reading had evidently brought him down only to about

the middle sixties; and affairs at that date were to him still burning questions. Thus he would declaim

"I blush with shame," he would cry, "when I think of England's attitude in that matter."

We pointed out that the dispute had been amicably settled by the best minds of the time, had passed between

the covers of history, and had given way in immediate importance to several later topics.

"This vacillating policy," he swept on, "annoys me. For my part, I should like to see so firm a stand taken on

all questions that in any part of the world, whenever a man, and wherever a man, said 'I am an Englishman?

He was an incredible person. However, I was glad to see him; he and a few others of his kind have consoled

me for a number of Americans I have met abroad. Lady A., with the tolerant philosophy of her class, seemed

merely amused. I have often since wondered how this illassorted partnership turned out.

Two other neighbours of ours dropped in once or twicetwentysix miles on bicycles, on which they could

ride only a portion of the distance. They had some sort of a ranch up in the Ithanga Hills; and were two of the

nicest fellows one would want to meet, brimful of energy, game for anything, and had so good a time always

that the grumpiest fever could not prevent every one else having a good time too. Once they rode on their

bicycles forty miles to Nairobi, danced half the night at a Government House ball, rode back in the early

morning, and did an afternoon's plowing! They explained this feat by pointing out most convincingly that the

Occasionally a trim and dapper police official would drift in on horseback looking for native criminals; and

once a safari came by. Twelve miles away was the famous Kamiti Farm of Heatly, where Roosevelt killed his

buffalo; and once or twice Heatly himself, a fine chap, came to see us. Also just before I left with Duirs for a

lion hunt on Kapiti, Lady Girouard, wife of the Governor, and her nephew and niece rode out for a hunt. In

the African fashion, all these people brought their own personal servants. It makes entertaining easy. Nobody

knows where all these boys sleep; but they manage to tuck away somewhere, and always show up after a

We stayed at Juja a little over three weeks. Then most reluctantly said farewell and returned to Nairobi in

With our return from Juja to Nairobi for a breathing space, this volume comes to a logical conclusion. In it I

have tried to give a fairly comprehensive impressionit could hardly be a picture of so large a subjectof a

portion of East Equatorial Africa, its animals, and its people. Those who are sufficiently interested will have

an opportunity in a succeeding volume of wandering with us even farther afield. The low jungly coast region;

the fierce desert of the Serengetti; the swift sullen rhinoceroshaunted stretches of the Tsavo; Nairobi, the

strangest mixture of the twentieth centuries A.D. and B.C.; Mombasa with its wild, barbaric passionate ebb

and flow of life, of colour, of throbbing sound, the great lions of the Kapiti Plains, the Thirst of the Loieta,

the Masai spearmen, the long chase for the greater kudu; the wonderful, high unknown country beyond the

Narossara and other affairs will there be detailed. If the reader of this volume happens to want more, there he

Most people are very much interested in how hot it gets in such tropics as we traversed. Unfortunately it is

very difficult to tell them. Temperature tables have very little to do with the matter, for humidity varies

greatly. On the Serengetti at lower reaches of the Guaso Nyero I have seen it above 110 degrees. It was hot,

to be sure, but not exhaustingly so. On the other hand, at 90 or 95 degrees the low coast belt I have had the

sweat run from me literally in streams; so that a muddy spot formed wherever I stood still. In the highlands,

moreover, the nights were often extremely cold. I have recorded night temperatures as low as 40 at 7000 feet

Of more importance than the actual or sensible temperature of the air is the power of the sun's rays. At all

times of year this is practically constant; for the orb merely swings a few degrees north and south of the

equator, and the extreme difference in time between its risings or settings is not more than twenty minutes.

This power is also practically constant whatever the temperature of the air and is dangerous even on a cloudy

day, when the heat waves are effectually screened off, but when the actinic rays are as active as ever. For this

reason the protection of helmet and spine pad should never be omitted, no matter what the condition of the

weather, between nine o'clock and four. A very brief exposure is likely to prove fatal. It should be added that

Such being the case, mere temperature tables could have little interest to the general reader. I append a few

For the benefit of the sportsman and gun crank who want plain facts and no flapdoodle, the following

statistics are offered. To the lay reader this inclusion will be incomprehensible; but I know my gun crank as I

Army Springfield, model 1903 to take the 1906 cartridge, shooting the Spitzer sharp point bullet. Stocked to

suit me by Ludwig Wundhammer, and fitted with Sheard gold bead front sight and Lyman aperture receiver

sight. With this I did most my shooting, as the trajectory was remarkably good, and the killing power

remarkable. Tried out both the oldfashioned soft point bullets and the sharp Spitzer bullets, but find the

latter far the more effective. In fact the paralyzing shock given by the Spitzer is almost beyond belief. African

animals are notably tenacious of life; but the Springfield dropped nearly half the animals dead with one shot;

a most unusual record, as every sportsman will recognize. The bullets seemed on impact always to flatten

slightly at the base, the point remaining intactto spin widely on the axis, and to plunge off at an angle. This

action of course depended on the high velocity. The requisite velocity, however seemed to keep up within all

shooting ranges. A kongoni I killed at 638 paces (measured), and another at 566 paces both exhibited this

action of the bullet. I mention these ranges because I have seen the statement in print that the remaining

velocity beyond 350 yards would not be sufficient in this arm to prevent the bullet passing through cleanly. I

should also hasten to add that I do not habitually shoot at game at the above ranges; but did so in these two

instances for the precise purpose of testing the arm. Metal fouling did not bother me at all, though I had been

led to expect trouble from it. The weapon was always cleaned with water so boiling hot that the heat of the

barrel dried it. When occasionally flakes of metal fouling became visible a Marble brush always sufficed to

remove enough of it. It was my habit to smear the bullets with mobilubricant before placing them in the

magazine. This was not as much of a nuisance as it sounds. A small tin box about the size of a pill box lasted

me the whole trip; and only once did I completely empty the magazine at one time. On my return I tested the

rifle very thoroughly for accuracy. In spite of careful cleaning the barrel was in several places slightly

corroded. For this the climate was responsible. The few small pittings, however, did not seem in any way to

have affected the accuracy, as the rifle shot the following groups: 31/2 inches at 200 yards; 71/4 inches at

*It shot one fiveshot 12/3 inch group at 200 yds., and several others at all distances less than the figures

These groups were not made from a machine rest, however; as none was available. The complete record with

this arm for my whole stay in Africa was 307 hits out of 395 cartridges fired, representing 185 head of game

killed. Most of this shooting was for meat and represented also all sorts of "varmints" as well.

The 405 Winchester. This weapon was sighted like the Springfield, and was constantly in the field as my

second gun. For lions it could not be beaten; as it was very accurate, delivered a hard blow, and held five

cartridges. Beyond 125 to 150 yards one had to begin to guess at distance, so for ordinary shooting I preferred

the Springfield. In thick brush country, however, where one was likely to come suddenly on rhinoceroes, but

where one wanted to be ready always for desirable smaller game, the Winchester was just the thing. It was

short, handy, and reliable. One experience with a zebra 300350 yards has made me question whether at long

(hunting) ranges the remaining velocity of the big blunt nosed bullet is not seriously reduced; but as to that I

have not enough data for a final conclusion. I have no doubt, however, that at such ranges, and beyond, the

little Springfield has more shocking power. Of course at closer ranges the Winchester is by far the more

powerful. I killed one rhinoceros with the 405, one buffalo and one hippo; but should consider it too light for

an emergency gun against the larger dangerous animals, such as buffalo and rhinoceros. If one has time for

extreme accuracy, and can pick the shot, it is plenty big; but I refer now to close quarters in a hurry. I had no

trouble whatever with the mechanism of this arm; nor have I ever had trouble with any of the lever actions,

although I have used them for many years. As regards speed of fire the controversy between the lever and

bolt action advocates seems to me foolish in the extreme. Either action can be fired faster than it should be

fired in the presence of game. It is my belief that any man, no matter how practised or how cool, can

stampede himself beyond his best accuracy by pumping out his shots too rapidly. This is especially true in the

face of charging dangerous game. So firmly do I believe this that I generally take the rifle from my shoulder

between each shot. Even aimed rapid fire is of no great value as compared with better aimed slower fire. The

first bullet delivers to an animal's nervous system about all the shock it can absorb. If the beast is not thereby

knocked down and held down, subsequent shots can accomplish that desirable result only by reaching a vital

spot or by tearing tissue. As an example of this I might instance a waterbuck into which I saw my companion

empty five heavy 465 and double 500 bullets from cordite rifles before it fell! Thus if the game gets to its feet

after the first shock, it is true that the hunter will often empty into it six or seven more bullets without

apparent result, unless he aims carefully for a centrally vital point. It follows that therefore a second shot

aimed with enough care to land it in that point is worth a lot more than a half dozen delivered in three or four

seconds with only the accuracy necessary to group decently at very short range, even if all of them hit the

beast. I am perfectly aware that this view will probably be disputed; but it is the result of considerable

experience, close observation and real interest in the game. The whole record of the Winchester was 56 hits

The 465 Holland Holland double cordite rifle. This beautiful weapon, built and balanced like a fine

hammerless shotgun, was fitted with open sights. It was of course essentially a close range emergency gun,

but was capable of accurate work at a distance. I killed one buffalo dead with it, across a wide canyon, with

the 300yard leaf up on the back sight. Its game list however was limited to rhinoceroses, hippopotamuses,

buffaloes and crocodiles. The recoil in spite of its weight of twelve and one half pounds, was tremendous; but

unnoticeable when I was shooting at any of these brutes. Its total record was 31 cartridges fired with 29 hits

The conditions militating against marksmanship are often severe. Hard work in the tropics is not the most

steadying regime in the world, and outside a man's nerves, he is often bothered by queer lights, and the

effects of the mirage that swirls from the sunheated plain. The ranges, too, are rather long. I took the trouble

to pace out about every kill, and find that antelope in the plains averaged 245 yards; with a maximum of 638

yards, while antelope in covered country averaged 148 yards, with a maximum of 311.

It is always interesting to play the other fellow's game his way, and then, in light of experience, to see

The above proposition here refers to camping. We do considerable of it in our country, especially in our

North and West. After we have been at it for some time, we evolve a method of our own. The basis of that

method is to do without; to GO LIGHT. At first even the best of us will carry too much plunder, but ten years

of philosophy and rainstorms, trails and trials, will bring us to an irreducible minimum. A party of three will

get along with two pack horses, say; or, on a harder trip, each will carry the necessities on his own back. To

take just as little as is consistent with comfort is to play the game skilfully. Any article must pay in use for its

With this ideal deeply ingrained by the test of experience, the American camper is appalled by the caravan his

British cousins consider necessary for a trip into the African back country. His said cousin has, perhaps, very

kindly offered to have his outfit ready for him when he arrives. He does arrive to find from one hundred to

"Great Scot!" he cries, "I want to go camping; I don't want to invade anybody's territory. Why the army?"

"What effects?" he demands, bewildered. As far as he knows, he has two guns, some ammunition, and a

black tin box, bought in London, and halffilled with extra clothes, a few medicines, a thermometer, and

some little personal knickknacks. He has been wondering what else he is going to put in to keep things from

rattling about. Of course he expected besides these to take along a little plain grub, and some blankets, and a

"I know this seems foolish to you," he says, "but you must remember you are under the equator and you must

do things differently here. As long as you keep fit you are safe; but if you get run down a bit you'll go. You've

got to do yourself well, down here, rather better than you have to in any other climate. You need all the

This has a reasonable sound and the American does not yet know the game. Recovering from his first shock,

he begins to look things over. There is a double tent, folding camp chair, folding easy chair, folding table,

wash basin, bath tub, cot, mosquito curtains, clothes hangers; there are oil lanterns, oil carriers, two loads of

mysterious cooking utensils and cook camp stuff; there is an open fly, which his friend explains is his dining

tent; and there are from a dozen to twenty boxes standing in a row, each with its padlock. "I didn't go in for

luxury," apologizes the English friend. "Of course we can easily add anything you want but I remember you

He learns that they are chop boxes, containing food and supplies. At this he rises on his hind legs and paws

"Food!" he shrieks. "Why, man alive, I'm alone, and I am only going to be out three months! I can carry all

But the Englishman patiently explains. You cannot live on "bacon and beans" in this country, so to speak.

You must do yourself rather well, you know, to keep in condition. And you cannot pack food in bags, it must

be tinned. And then, of course, such things as your sparklet siphons and lime juice require careful

"Exactly, dear boy, an absolute necessity. After a touch of sun there's nothing picks you up better than a

The American reflects again that this is the other fellow's game, and that the other fellow has been playing it

for some time, and that he ought to know. But he cannot yet see why the one hundred and fifty men. Again

the Englishman explains. There is the Headman to run the show. Correct: we need him. Then there are four

askaris. What are they? Native soldiers. No, you won't be fighting anything; but they keep the men going, and

act as sort of subforemen in bossing the complicated work. Next is your cook, and your own valet and that

"Hold on!" cries our friend. "I have only two guns, and I'm going to carry one myself."

But this, he learns, is quite impossible. It is never done. It is absolutely necessary, in this climate, to avoid all

That makes how many? Ten already, and there seem to be three tent loads, one bed load, one chair and table

load, one lantern load, two miscellaneous loads, two cook loads, one personal box, and fifteen chop

boxestotal twentysix, plus the staff, as above, thirtysix. Why all the rest of the army?

Very simple: these thirtysix men have, according to regulation, seven tents, and certain personal effects, and

they must have "potio" or a ration of one and a half pounds per diem. These things must be carried by more

"I see," murmurs the American, crushed, "and these more men have more tents and more potio, which must

So our American concludes still once again that the other fellow knows his own game, and starts out. He

learns he has what is called a "modest safari"; and spares a fleeting wonder as to what a really elaborate safari

must be. The procession takes the field. He soon sees the value of the four askaristhe necessity of whom he

has secretly doubted. Without their vigorous seconding the headman would have a hard time indeed. Also,

when he observes the labour of tentmaking, packing, washing, and general service performed by his tent

boy, he abandons the notion that that individual could just as well take care of the horse as well, especially as

the horse has to have all his grass cut and brought to him. At evening our friend has a hot bath, a long cool

fizzly drink of lime juice and soda; he puts on the clean clothes laid out for him, assumes soft mosquito boots,

and sits down to dinner. This is served to him in courses, and on enamel ware. Each course has its

propersized plate and cutlery. He starts with soup, goes down through tinned whitebait or other fish, an

entree, a roast, perhaps a curry, a sweet, and small coffee. He is certainly being "done well," and he enjoys

There comes a time when he begins to wonder a little. It is all very pleasant, of course, and perhaps very

necessary; they all tell him it is. But, after all, it is a little galling to the average man to think that of him.

Your Englishman doesn't mind that; he enjoys being taken care of: but the sportsman of American training

likes to stand on his own feet as far as he is able and conditions permit. Besides, it is expensive. Besides that,

it is a confounded nuisance, especially when potio gives out and more must be sought, near or far. Then, if he

My experience was very much as above. Three of us went out for eleven weeks with what was considered a

very "modest" safari indeed. It comprised one hundred and eighteen men. My fifth and last trip, also with two

In essentials the Englishman is absolutely right. One cannot camp in Africa as one would at home. The

experimenter would be dead in a month. In his application of that principle, however, he seems to the

American point of view to overshoot. Let us examine his proposition in terms of the essentialsfood,

clothing, shelter. There is no doubt but that a man must keep in top condition as far as possible; and that, to

do so, he must have plenty of good food. He can never do as we do on very hard trips at home: take a little

tea, sugar, coffee, flour, salt, oatmeal. But on the other hand, he certainly does not need a fivecourse dinner

every night, nor a complete battery of cutlery, napery and table ware to eat it from. Flour, sugar, oatmeal, tea

and coffee, rice, beans, onions, curry, dried fruits, a little bacon, and some dehydrated vegetables will do him

very well indeedwith what he can shoot. These will pack in waterproof bags very comfortably. In addition

to feeding himself well, he finds he must not sleep next to the ground, he must have a hot bath every day, but

never a cold one, and he must shelter himself with a double tent against the sun.

Those are the absolute necessities of the climate. In other words, if he carries a double tent, a cot, a folding

bath; and gives a little attention to a properly balanced food supply, he has met the situation.

If, in addition, he takes canned goods, soda siphons, lime juice, easy chairs and all the rest of the

paraphernalia, he is merely using a basic principle as an excuse to include sheer luxuries. In further

extenuation of this he is apt to argue that porters are cheap, and that it costs but little more to carry these extra

comforts. Against this argument, of course, I have nothing to say. It is the inalienable right of every man to

carry all the luxuries he wants. My point is that the average American sportsman does not want them, and

only takes them because he is overpersuaded that these things are not luxuries, but necessities. For, mark you,

he could take the same things into the Sierras or the Northby paying; but he doesn't.

I repeat, it is the inalienable right of any man to travel as luxuriously as he pleases. But by the same token it

is not his right to pretend that luxuries are necessities. That is to put himself into the same category with the

man who always finds some other excuse for taking a drink than the simple one that he wants it.

The Englishman's point of view is that he objects to "pigging it," as he says. "Pigging it" means changing

your home habits in any way. If you have been accustomed to eating your sardines after a meal, and

somebody offers them to you first, that is "pigging it." In other words, as nearly as I can make out, "pigging

it" does not so much mean doing things in an inadequate fashion as DOING THEM DIFFERENTLY.

Therefore, the Englishman in the field likes to approximate as closely as may be his life in town, even if it

takes one hundred and fifty men to do it. Which reduces the "pigging it" argument to an attempt at

The American temperament, on the contrary, being more experimental and independent, prefers to build

anew upon its essentials. Where the Englishman covers the situation blanketwise with his old institutions,

the American prefers to construct new institutions on the necessities of the case. He objects strongly to being

taken care of too completely. He objects strongly to losing the keen enjoyment of overcoming difficulties and

enduring hardships. The Englishman by habit and training has no such objections. He likes to be taken care

of, financially, personally, and everlastingly. That is his ideal of life. If he can be taken care of better by

employing three hundred porters and packing eight tin trunks of personal effectsas I have seen it donehe

But the American does not like it. A good deal of the fun for him is in going light, in matching himself

against his environment. It is no fun to him to carry his complete little civilization along with him,

laboriously. If he must have cotton wool, let it be as little cotton wool as possible. He likes to be comfortable;

but he likes to be comfortable with the minimum of means. Striking just the proper balance somehow adds to

his interest in the game. And how he DOES object to that everrecurring thoughtthat he is such a helpless

Both means are perfectly legitimate, of course; and neither view is open to criticism. All either man is

justified in saying is that he, personally, wouldn't get much fun out of doing it the other way. As a matter of

fact, human nature generally goes beyond its justifications and is prone to criticise. The Englishman waxes a

trifle caustic on the subject of "pigging it"; and the American indulges in more than a bit of sarcasm on the

By some such roundabout mental process as the above the American comes to the conclusion that he need not

necessarily adopt the other fellow's method of playing this game. His own method needs modification, but it

will do. He ventures to leave out the tables and easy chair, takes a camp stool and eats off a chop box. To the

best of his belief his health does not suffer from this. He gets on with a camper's allowance of plate, cup and

cutlery, and so cuts out a load and a half of assorted kitchen utensils and table ware. He even does without a

tablecloth and napkins! He discards the lime juice and siphons, and purchases a canvas evaporation bag to

cool the water. He fires one gunbearer, and undertakes the formidable physical feat of carrying one of his

rifles himself. And, above all, he modifies that grub list. The purchase of waterproof bags gets rid of a lot of

tin: the staple groceries do quite as well as London fancy stuff. Golden syrup takes the place of all the

miscellaneous jams, marmalades and other sweets. The canned goods go by the board. He lays in a stock of

dried fruit. At the end, he is possessed of a grub list but little different from that of his Rocky Mountain trips.

Some few items he has cut down; and some he has substituted; but bulk and weight are the same. For his

And then suddenly he finds that thus he has made a reduction all along the line. Tent load, two men; grub and

kitchen, five men; personal, one man; bed, one man; miscellaneous, one or two. There is now no need for

headmen and askaris to handle this little lot. Twenty more to carry food for the menhe is off with a quarter

You who are sportsmen and are not going to Africa, as is the case with most, will perhaps read this, because

we are always interested in how the other fellow does it. To the few who are intending an exploration of the

dark continent this concentration of a year's experience may be valuable. Remember to sleep off the ground,

not to starve yourself, to protect yourself from the sun, to let negroes do all hard work but marching and

hunting. Do these things your own way, using your commonsense on how to get at it. You'll be all right.

That, I conceive, covers the case. The remainder of your equipment has to do with camp affairs, and merely

needs listing. The question here is not of the sort to get, but of what to take. The tents, cooking affairs, etc.,

are well adapted to the country. In selecting your tent, however, you will do very well to pick out one whose

These things, your food, your porters' outfits and what trade goods you may need are quite sufficient. You

will have all you want, and not too much. If you take care of yourself, you ought to keep in good health. Your

small outfit permits greater mobility than does that of the English cousin, infinitely less nuisance and

expense. Furthermore, you feel that once more you are "next to things," instead of "being led about Africa

Before going to Africa I read as many books as I could get hold of on the subject, some of them by

Americans. In every case the authors have given a chapter detailing the necessary outfit. Invariably they have

followed the Englishman's ideas almost absolutely. Nobody has ventured to modify those ideas in any

essential manner. Some have deprecatingly ventured to remark that it is as well to leave out the tinned

carfareif you do not like carfare; but that is as far as they care to go. The lists are those of the firms who

make a business of equipping caravans. The heads of such firms are generally old African travellers. They

furnish the equipment their customers demand; and as English sportsmen generally all demand the same

thing, the firms end by issuing a printed list of essentials for shooting parties in Africa, including carfare.

Travellers follow the lists blindly, and later copy them verbatim into their books. Not one has thought to

empty out the whole bag of tricks, to examine them in the light of reason, and to pick out what a man of

American habits, as contrasted to one of English habits, would like to have. This cannot be done a priori; it

requires the test of experience to determine how to meet, in our own way, the unusual demands of climate

And please note, when the heads of these equipment firms, these old African travellers, take the field for

themselves, they pay no attention whatever to their own printed lists of "essentials."

Now, premising that the English sportsman has, by many years' experience, worked out just what he likes to

take into the field; and assuring you solemnly that his ideas are not in the least the ideas of American

At present the American has either to take over in toto the English idea, which is not adapted to him, and

isTO HIMa nuisance, or to go it blind, without experience except that acquired in a temperate climate,

which is dangerous. I am not going to copy out the English list again, even for comparison. I have not the

space; and if curious enough, you can find it in any book on modern African travel. Of course I realize well

that few Americans go to Africa; but I also realize well that the sportsman is a crank, a wild and eager

enthusiast over items of equipment anywhere. Heand I am thinking emphatically of himwould avidly

devour the details of the proper outfit for the gentle art of hunting the totally extinct whiffenpoof.

Personal Equipment Clothes. On the top of your head you must have a sun helmet. Get it of cork, not of pith.

The latter has a habit of melting unobtrusively about your ears when it rains. A helmet in brush is the next

noisiest thing to a circus band, so it is always well to have, also, a double terai. This is not something to eat. It

is a wide felt hat, and then another wide felt hat on top of that. The verticalraysofthetropicalsun

(pronounced as one word to save time after you have heard and said it a thousand times) are supposed to get

tangled and lost somewhere between the two hats. It is not, however, a good contraption to go in all day when

As underwear you want the lightest Jaeger wool. Doesn't sound well for tropics, but it is an essential. You

will sweat enough anyway, even if you get down to a brass wire costume like the natives. It is when you stop

in the shade, or the breeze, or the dusk of evening, that the trouble comes. A chill means trouble, SURE. Two

extra suits are all you want. There is no earthly sense in bringing more. Your tent boy washes them out

Your shirt should be of the thinnest brown flannel. Leather the shoulders, and part way down the upper arm,

with chamois. This is to protect your precious garment against the thorns when you dive through them. On

the back you have buttons sewed wherewith to attach a spine pad. Before I went to Africa I searched eagerly

for information or illustration of a spine pad. I guessed what it must be for, and to an extent what it must be

like, but all writers maintained a conservative reticence as to the thing itself. Here is the first authorized

description. A spine pad is a quilted affair in consistency like the things you are supposed to lift hot flatirons

with. On the outside it is brown flannel, like the shirt; on the inside it is a gaudy orange colour. The latter is

not for aesthetic effect, but to intercept actinic rays. It is eight or ten inches wide, is shaped to button close up

under your collar, and extends halfway down your back. In addition it is well to wear a silk handkerchief

around the neck; as the spine and back of the head seem to be the most vulnerable to the sun.

For breeches, suit yourself as to material. It will have to be very tough, and of fast colour. The best cut is the

"semiriding," loose at the knees, which should be well faced with soft leather, both for crawling, and to save

the cloth in grass and low brush. One pair ought to last four months, roughly speaking. You will find a thin

pair of ordinary khaki trousers very comfortable as a change for wear about camp. In passing I would call

your attention to "shorts." Shorts are loose, bobbed off khaki breeches, like knee drawers. With them are

worn puttees or leather leggings, and low boots. The knees are bare. They are much affected by young

Englishmen. I observed them carefully at every opportunity, and my private opinion is that man has rarely

managed to invent as idiotically unfitted a contraption for the purpose in hand. In a country teeming with

poisonous insects, ticks, feverbearing mosquitoes; in a country where vegetation is unusually well armed

with thorns, spines and hooks, mostly poisonous; in a country where, oftener than in any other a man is called

upon to get down on his hands and knees and crawl a few assorted abrading miles, it would seem an obvious

necessity to protect one's bare skin as much as possible. The only reason given for these astonishing garments

is that they are cooler and freer to walk in. That I can believe. But they allow ticks and other insects to crawl

up, mosquitoes to bite, thorns to tear, and assorted troubles to enter. And I can vouch by experience that

ordinary breeches are not uncomfortably hot or tight. Indeed, one does not get especially hot in the legs

anyway. I noticed that none of the oldtime hunters like Cuninghame or Judd wore shorts. The real reason is

not that they are cool, but that they are picturesque. Common belief to the contrary, your average practical,

matteroffact Englishman loves to dress up. I knew one engaged in farmingpicturesque farmingin our

own West, who used to appear at afternoon tea in a clean suit of blue overalls! It is a harmless amusement.

Our own youths do it, also, substituting chaps for shorts, perhaps. I am not criticising the spirit in them; but

For leg gear I found that nothing could beat our American combination of highlaced boots and heavy knit

socks. Leather leggings are noisy, and the rolled puttees hot and binding. Have your boots ten or twelve

inches high, with a flap to buckle over the tie of the laces, with soles of the mercuryimpregnated leather

called "elk hide," and with small Hungarian hobs. Your tent boy will grease these every day with "dubbin," of

which you want a good supply. It is not my intention to offer free advertisements generally, but I wore one

pair of boots all the time I was in Africa, through wet, heat, and long, long walking. They were in good

condition when I gave them away finally, and had not started a stitch. They were made by that excellent

craftsman, A. A. Cutter, of Eau Claire, Wis., and he deserves and is entirely welcome to this puff. Needless to

Six pairs of woollen socks, knit by hand, if possiblewill be enough. For evening, when you come in, I know

nothing better than a pair of very high moosehide moccasins. They should, however, be provided with thin

soles against the stray thorn, and should reach well above the ankle by way of defence against the fever

mosquito. That festive insect carries on a surreptitious guerrilla warfare low down. The English "mosquito

boot" is simply an affair like a riding boot, made of suede leather, with thin soles. It is most comfortable. My

objection is that it is unsubstantial and goes to pieces in a very brief time even under ordinary evening wear

You will also want a coat. In American camping I have always maintained the coat is a useless garment.

There one does his own work to a large extent. When at work or travel the coat is in the way. When in camp

the sweater or buckskin shirt is handier, and more easily carried. In Africa, however, where the other fellow

does most of the work, a coat is often very handy. Do not make the mistake of getting an unlined

lightweight garment. When you want it at all, you want it warm and substantial. Stick on all the pockets

For wet weather there is nothing to equal a long and voluminous cape. Straps crossing the chest and around

the waist permit one to throw it off the shoulders to shoot. It covers the hands, the riflemost of the little

horses or mules one gets out there. One can sleep in or on it, and it is a most effective garment against heavy

winds. One suit of pajamas is enough, considering your tent boy's commendable mania for laundry work.

You will wear most of the above, and put what remains in your "officer's box." This is a thin steel, airtight

Sporting. Pick out your guns to suit yourself. You want a light one and a heavy one.

When I came to send out my ammunition, I was forced again to take the other fellow's experience. I was told

by everybody that I should bring plenty, that it was better to have too much than too little, etc. I rather

thought so myself, and accordingly shipped a trifle over 1,500 rounds of small bore cartridges. Unfortunately,

I never got into the field with any of my numerous advisers on this point, so cannot state their methods from

firsthand information. Inductive reasoning leads me to believe that they consider it unsportsmanlike to shoot

at a standing animal at all, or at one running nearer than 250 yards. Furthermore, it is etiquette to continue

firing until the last cloud of dust has died down on the distant horizon. Only thus can I conceive of getting rid

of that amount of ammunition. In eight months of steady shooting, for exampleshooting for trophies, as well

as to feed a safari of fluctuating numbers, counting jackals, marabout and such small trashI got away with

395 rounds of small bore ammunition and about 100 of large. This accounted for 225 kills. That should give

one an idea. Figure out how many animals you are likely to want for ANY purpose, multiply by three, and

To carry these cartridges I should adopt the English system of a stout leather belt on which you slip various

sized pockets and loops to suit the occasion. Each unit has loops for ten cartridges. You rarely want more

than that; and if you do, your gunbearer is supplied. In addition to the loops, you have leather pockets to carry

your watch; your money, your matches and tobacco, your compassanything you please. They are handy and

safe. The tropical climate is too "sticky" to get much comfort, or anything else, out of ordinary pockets.

In addition, you supply your gunbearer with a cartridge belt, a leather or canvas carrying bag, water bottle for

him and for yourself, a sheath knife and a whetstone. In the bag are your camera, tape line, the whetstone,

field cleaners and lunch. You personally carry your field glasses, sun glasses, a knife, compass, matches,

police whistle and notebook. The field glasses should not be more than six power; and if possible you should

get the sort with detachable prisms. The prisms are apt to cloud in a tropical climate, and the nondetachable

sort are almost impossible for a layman to clean. Hang these glasses around your neck by a strap only just

long enough to permit you to raise them to your eyes. The best notebook is the "looseleaf" sort. By means of

this you can keep always a fresh leaf on top; and at night can transfer your day's notes to safe keeping in your

tin box. The sun glasses should not be smoked or darkyou can do nothing with thembut of the new

amberol, the sort that excludes the ultraviolet rays, but otherwise makes the world brighter and gayer.

To clean your guns you must supply plenty of oil, and then some more. The East African gunbearer has a

quite proper and gratifying, but most astonishing horror for a suspicion of rust; and to use oil any faster he

Other Equipment. All this has taken much time to tell about, it has not done much toward filling up that tin

box. Dump in your toilet effects and a bath towel, two or three scalpels for taxidermy, a ball of string, some

safetypins, a small tool kit, sewing materials, a flask of brandy, kodak films packed in tin, a boxed

thermometer, an aneroid (if you are curious as to elevations), journal, tags for labelling trophies, a few yards

The latter divides into two classes: for your men and for yourself. The men will suffer from certain well

defined troubles: "tumbo," or overeating; diarrhaea, bronchial colds, fever and various small injuries. For

"tumbo" you want a liberal supply of Epsom's salts; for diarrhaea you need chlorodyne; any good expectorant

for the colds; quinine for the fever; permanganate and plenty of bandages for the injuries. With this lot you

can do wonders. For yourself you need, or may need, in addition, a more elaborate lot: Laxative, quinine,

phenacetin, bismuth and soda, bromide of ammonium, morphia, camphorice, and asperin. A clinical

thermometer for whites and one for blacks should be included. A tin of malted milk is not a bad thing to take

By this time your tin box is fairly well provided. You may turn to general supplies.