THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
at us, and continued so to come, that in spite of our-
selves 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 believing myself definitely and not
blindly attacked.
The first instance was that when B. killed his
second trophy rhinoceros. The beast’s companion
refused to leave the dead body fora 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 fifteen yards.
The second instance was of a rhinoceros that got
up from the grass sixty yards away, and came head-
long in my direction. At the moment I was stand-
ing on the edge of a narrow eroded ravine, ten feet
deep, with perpendicular sides. The rhinoceros
came on bravely to the edge of this ravine — and
stopped. Then he gave an exhibition of unmiti-
gated bad temper most amusing to contemplate —
from my safe position. He snorted, and stamped,
and pawed the earth, and ramped up and down ata
great rate. I sat on the opposite bank and laughed
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THE RHINOCEROS
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 cannot but think he intended something
of the sort from the first.
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 buf-
falo signs, not an hour old. ‘To one who knew any-
thing 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. Therefore we immediately took up the
trail.
It led us over hills, through valleys, high grass,
burned country, brush, thin scrub, and small wood-
land 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
395
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
thicket out of the sun. As the latter ascended the
heavens and the scorching heat increased, our con-
fidence in nearing our quarry ascended likewise, for
we knew that buffaloes do not like great heat. Never-
theless 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 catch them up.
From the start we had been bothered with rhinoc-
eroses. 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
306
THE RHINOCEROS
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 from the mass. Finally the job was done. I
let fa]! my glasses.
““Monumookee y’otey — all cows,” I whispered
to Memba Sasa.
We backed out of there inch by inch, with the
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 crash-
ing and stamping, breaking the brush, rushing head-
long 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
3°97
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
not much alarmed, as only the one cow knew what
it was all about anyway, and I suspected they would
stop at the next thicket.
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 sun was fierce.
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 bush, stood one of the big bulls!
Luck seemed with us at last. The wind was right,
and between us and the bull lay only four hundred
yards of knee-high grass. All we had to do was to
get down on our hands and knees, and, without
further precautions, crawl up within range and pot
him. That meant only a bit of hard, hot work.
When we were about halfway a rhinoceros sud-
denly arose from the grass between us and the
buffalo, and about one hundred yards away.
What had aroused him, at that distance and up-
wind, 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
308
THE RHINOCEROS
way, now that, in search for what had alarmed him.
We sank out of sight and lay low, fully expecting
that the brute would make off.
For just twenty-five 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 con-
fidently 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 jun-
gleland is accustomed to rhinoceros bad temper
over nothing. Twice he came in our direction, but
both times gave it up after advancing twenty-
five yards or so. We lay flat on our faces, the
vertical sun slowly roasting us, and cursed that
rhino.
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 per-
severance 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 pas-
sionate attack. From that point of view it seems
399
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
to me that the interest and significance of the in-
cident can hardly be overstated.
Four or five times we thought ourselves freed from
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 rhinoc-
eroses 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
310
THE RHINOCEROS
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 instinc-
tively, 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 twenty-seven feet — nine
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 altruis-
tic 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 side-
ways, the beast will pass him. I never happened to
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
meet anybody who had acted on this theory. |
suppose that such exist: though I doubt if any per-
sistent exponent of the art is likely to exist long.
Personally I like my own method, and stoutly main-
tain that, within twenty yards itis up to the rhinoc-
eros to begin to do the dodging.
312
XXII
THE RHINOCEROS — (continued)
T FIRST the traveller is pleased and curious
over rhinoceros. After he has seen and en-
countered eight or ten, he begins to look upon them
as an unmitigated nuisance. By the time he has
done a week in thick rhino-infested scrub he gets
fairly to hating them.
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 out-
rageously 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 throat-stopping, abrupt
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 rhinos during a
day’s journey through high grass.
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 remains was all the rhinoceros had
left possible.
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
374
THE RHINOCEROS
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 rhinoc-
eros of approaching danger. On the contrary, I
always looked at it the other way. The rhinoceros
birds thereby warned me of danger, and I was duly
thankful. |
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 sup-
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
port and howled frantically. Again and again the
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
birds, was clinging to the soil by its last remaining
roots.
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 viciously, and into which
he emptied his gun.
‘“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
moment, as though weighing his words. ‘“‘In fact,”
316
THE RHINOCEROS
he added with an air of final conviction, “it was
quite gruesome!”
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. Wecame
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 atten-
tion. 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 exception to the whole race, and was a good-
natured rhino.
The babies are astonishing and amusing creatures,
with blunt noses on which the horns are just begin-
*Opposing theories are those of “‘instinct,” and of slight causes, such as grass-
hoppers leaping before the hunter’s feet, not noticed by the man approaching.
317
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
ning to form, and with even fewer manners than their
parents. The mere fact of an 800-pound 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 occasional twin births,
but I happen never to have met so interesting a
family.
Rhinoceroses are still very numerous — too numer-
ous. Ihave 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, how-
ever, that this species must be the first to disappear
of the larger African animals. His great size com-
bined with his ’orrid ’abits mark him for early de-
struction. 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 wiped out
completely. Elsewhere he will diminish, and finally
disappear.
For one thing, and for one thing only, is the travel-
ler indebted to the rhinoceros. The beast is lazy,
large, and has an excellent eye for easy ways through.
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THE RHINOCEROS
For this reason, as regards the question of good roads,
he combines the excellent qualities of Public Senti-
ment, 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 coun-
try where the torrential rains wash hundreds of such
gullies across the line of march it is hardly an exag-
geration to say that travel would be practically
impossible without the rhino trails wherewith to
cross. Sometimes the perpendicular banks will ex-
tend for miles without offering any natural break
down to the stream-bed. Since this is so I respect-
fully submit to Government the following proposal:
(a) That a limited number of these beasts shall be
licensed as Trail Rhinos; and that all the rest shall
be killed from the settled and regularly travelled
districts.
(b) That these Trail Rhinos shall be suitably
hobbled by short steel chains,
(c) That each Trail Rhino shall carry painted con-
spicuously on his side his serial number,
(d) That as a further precaution for public safety
each Trail Rhino shall carry firmly attached to hig
33Q
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
tail a suitable red warning flag. Thus the well-
known 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 repair.
And I do submit to all and sundry that the above
resolutions have as much sense to them as have most
of the petitions submitted to Government by settlers
in a new country.
320
XXIII
THE HIPPO POOL
R 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 under-
growth, 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
stretch dweit about sixty hippopotamuses of all
sizes.
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
321
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 a half hour of yelling we had the hippos alter-
nating between the bottom of the river and the sur-
face of the water about as fast as they could make the
round trip, blowing like porpoises. It was a comi-
cal 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 sounded like the irregular exhaust of a steam-
engine. .
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, in-
stead of gasping a mouthful of air and plunging be-
low 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.
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THE HIPPO POOL
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
hippopotamuses — the riverhorses. With the heavy
jowl hidden; and the prominent nostrils, the long
reverse-curved 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 the Parthenon, or in the
prancy paintings of the Renaissance.
There were hippopotamuses of all sizes and of all
colours. The little ones, not bigger than a grand
piano, were of flesh pink. Those half-grown 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 so—a
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 exas-
perated old codger would utter a grumbling bellow
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.
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 out-
break of a babel of voices. Then we heard a pro-
longed sw-1-sh-sh-sh, exactly like the launching of a
big boat. A hippo had blundered out the wrong
side the river, and fairly into our camp.
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
twenty-five 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
324
THE HIPPO POOL
the whole length of the river— hundreds of miles.
Furthermore, every little tributary stream, no mat-
ter 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 with them: and both lakes and rivers are
many.
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 im-
possible to tell whether or not the bullet has reached
the brain. Harmed or whole the beast sinks any-
way. Some hours later the distention of the stom-
ach 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 manceuvre a
rope on the carcass, often a matter of great difficulty,
325
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
for the other hippos bellow and snort and generally
try to live up to the circus posters of the Blood-
sweating Behemoth of Holy Writ, and the crocodiles
like dark meat very much. Usually one offers es-
pecial 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 onto a raft.
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 good one; but I saw it with my own
two eyes.
It was at the hippo pool camp that we first be-
came acquainted with Funny Face.
Funny Face was the smallest, furriest little soft
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 old-fashioned
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
326
i aii a a i i i es
THE HIPPO POOL
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 became Funny Face’s cas-
tle, at home and on the march.
Within a few hours his confidence in life was re-
stored. He accepted small articles of food from our
hands, eying us intently, retired and examined
them. As they all proved desirable, he rapidly came
to the conclusion that these new large strange mon-
keys, 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 love-chews; and then, clasping it
with all four hands, would draw himself up like a
327
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
little athlete and seat himself upright on the out-
spread palm. Thence he would survey the world,
wrinkling up his tiny brow.
This chastened and scholarly attitude of mind
lasted for four or five days. Then Funny Face con-
cluded 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 light-
hearted 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 good-for-naught. Nothing
retained his attention for ‘two consecutive min-
utes. 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 crawl-
ing 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, which he
forgot before he arrived.
In this he contrasted strangely with his friend
328
THE HIPPO POOL
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 bril.
liant 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 ex-
amined 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 seri-
ousness of life is proved by the fact that he had ob-
served and understood the flighty character of Funny
Face. When Funny Face acquired a titbit, Darwin
took up a hump-backed 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
329
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 by strict attention to business did
Darwin prosper.
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 re-
laxation. 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 wrin-
kled 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 chatter-
ings; probably dropped and forgot it in the excite-
ment of something new before he had even looked
to see what it was.
“These people,” said Darwin to himself, ‘‘on the
whole, and as an average, seem to give me appropri-
ate 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.”
“Tt strikes me,” observed Funny Face to him-
self, “that my adorable Memsahib and my beloved
332
THE HIPPO POOL
bwana have been very kind to me to-day, 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 amus-
ing 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 ar-
rived 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 sight — tent 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
achild. Ashe could hardly, at his tender age, have
had any previous experience with fire, this instinctive
fear was to me very interesting.
The monkeys had only one genuine enemy. ‘That
331
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 Maho-
met or Yusuf packed it — or rather him — carefully
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 there — or sometimes in a little grass jungle
constructed by his faithful servitors— until 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 pro-
cured 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 des-
ultory. To our surprise, however, we soon found
that our boys took Little Simba quite serious-
ly. 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
332
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:
THE HIPPO POOL
day, Mahomet came to us bearing Little Simba in
his hand.
“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 every-
thing went wrong, we plucked Little Simba from his
high throne and with him made a beautiful drop-
kick out into the tall grass. There, in a loud tone of
voice, we sternly bade him lie until the morrow. The
camp was bung-eyed. It is not given to every
people to treat its gods in such fashion: indeed, in
very deed, greatisthe whiteman! To be fair, having
published Little Simba’s disgrace, we should pub-
lish 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 tri-
umphantly at the head of a howling, singing pro-
cession 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 dif-
ficulty he had shinned up the table leg, and had
hoisted himself over the awkwardly projecting table
edge. When almost within reach of the fascinating
333
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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. Re-
covering immediately, he climbed just as high as he
could, and proceeded, during the next hour, to re-
lieve 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 ad-
vances 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 did not mind. He was too
busy being a god.
334
XXIV
THE BUFFALO
HE 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, tre-
mendous 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
33
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
head alone. As buffaloes when disturbed or sus-
picious have a habit of thrusting their noses up and
forward, that position will cling to one’s memory as
the most typical of the species.
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
exciting. 7
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 hun-
336
THE BUFFALO
ter’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 undesir-
ables. 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 occa-
sionally and with the utmost caution can he raise his
hand — or, better, lower his head —to 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 pres-
ence comes to the notice of some old cow. Be-
hind the leafy screen where unsuspected she has
been standing comes the most unexpected and heart-
jumping 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
337
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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, pro-
vided 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 crash back and forth all around him.
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 major-
ity of fatalities in hunting buffaloes happen while
338
THE BUFFALO
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 against
a tree to crush him like a fly.
He who would get his trophy, however, is not
always — perhaps is not generally — forced 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 ar-
range 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 ma-
noeuvring; and the only danger, outside the ever-
present one from the wounded beast, is that the
herd may charge over him deliberately. Therefore
it is well to keep out of sight.
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
339
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 repaira 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 herds,
a very few, may have fixed habits, and so prove
easy hunting.
These difficulties, while in no way formidable, are
real enough in their small way; but they are im-
mensely 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 be-
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 twi-
light shot when the glimmering ivory of his front
sight is barely visible. Otherwise he must go into
the thicket.
349
THE BUFFALO
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 Mav-
rouki had traced a herd to its lying-down place.
We took our heavy guns and started.
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 resem-
bled a small live-oak growth. Among these trees,
our guide told us, the buffalo had first been sighted.
The sun was very hot, and all the animals were
still. We saw impalla in the scrub, and many gi-
raffes and bucks on theplains. After an hour anda
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 indi-
cation we looked up, and there in a tree almost above
us roosted one of our boys sound asleep! We
341
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 move-
ments of the herd. Finally we came upon Mav-
rouki and Simba under a bush. From them, in
whispers, we learned that the buffalo were karibu
sana — very near; that they had fed this far, and
were now lying in the long grass just ahead. Leav-
ing the men, we now continued our forward move-
ment 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. Oc-
casionally, 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 doubt-
ful whether I could stand the pace.
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 up-
right for a few rods. ‘This we did, with the most ex-
traordinary precautions against even the breaking
342
THE BUFFALO
of a twig or the rolling of a pebble. Then we clam-
bered to the top of the bank, wormed our way for-
ward 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 fairly
upon the herd!
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 keep watch.
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 forward. We scrambled to
our feet and followed.
Across a short open space we ran, bent double, to
343
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 ani-
mals walked. On the flank of the herd was a big
gray bull.
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, trying with all their senses to
locate the cause of the disturbance. _ :
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 com-
pactly like a herd of cattle, staring, tossing their
heads, moving slightly, their wild eyes searching for
us. Isaw 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 in the shoulder of
one of them.
344
THE BUFFALO
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 ex-
amined him we found the hole made by B.’s Win-
chester bullet; so that quite unintentionally and by
accident I had fired at the same beast. This was
lucky. The trophy, by hunter’s law, of course, be-
longed to B.
Therefore F. and I alone followed on after the
herd. It was now coming on dusk. Within a hun-
dred 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 twenty-five yards away, and managed
to stagger him, but could not bring him down.
Now occurred an incident which I should hesitate to
relate were it not that both F. and myselfsawit. 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 run-
ning 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
"345
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
fairly emaciated, a very unusual thing with buffaloes.
We then followed the herd for twenty minutes, or
until twilight, when we turned back. About half-
way 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 com-
panions. ‘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 ob-
stinate. In fact they acted exactly like a pair of cow-
boys herding a recalcitrant animal back to its band:
and I have no doubt at all that when they first dashed
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 cer-
tainly 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 buffaloes will assist each other
when wounded,
*4 Voice from the Congo.
346
THE BUFFALO
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 dis-
courage the lions, but did not reach camp until well —
into the night. |
347
XXV
THE BUFFALO — continued
OME 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 time — should 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
daysatmost. Atthe end of that time we must start
for our prearranged rendezvous with C.
_ The valley was in the shape of an ellipse, two sides
of which were formed by great clifflike mountains,
and the other two by hills lower, but still of con-
siderable boldness and size. The longest radius was
perhaps six or eight miles, and the shortest three or
four. Atone end acanon dropped away to a lower
level, and at the other a pass in the hills gave over
to the country of the Naréssara River. The name
of the valley was Lengeetoto.
From the great mountains flowed many brooks
348
Se
re
THE BUFFALO
of clear sparkling water, that ran beneath the most
beautiful of open jungles, to unite finally in one main
stream that disappeared down the canon. 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. Harte-
beeste and zebra swarmed in the grassy openings;
and impalla in the brush. We saw sing-sing 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 prac-
tically unknown to white men, we thought this a
good chance to getone. In that I reckoned without
the fact that at certain seasons the Masai bring
349
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 reconnoitring 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 ata 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 at sundown.
Therefore we commenced cautiously and slowly to
follow the trail.
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 ~
35°
Ee
THE BUFFALO
been seen. It was near work. The gunbearers
crouched close tome. 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 loco-
motive 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 suc-
ceeded by absolute stillness when everything, our-
selves 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 acommanding position on the hill. Thence
we could determine the course of the herd. It con-
tinued 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 returned to camp.
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 -
35%
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 misunder-
standing 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 course a different matter.
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, examin-
ing 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 good-sized stream through a high
jungle over the tops of which we looked to a tri-
352
THE BUFFALO
angular 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 after-
noon. ‘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 trav-
elling. 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
beasts might be slipping away through the cover.
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
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 extra-
ordinary experience.
Through the heat of the day the world lay ab-
solutely silent. At about half-past three, however,
we heard rumblings and low bellows from the trees
a half mile away. I repocketed Hawthorne, and
aroused myself to continuous alertness.
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 more than a half hour of
daylight left.
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 brush, was by far the
biggest of the lot.
In order to reach them we would have to slip
down the face of the hill on which we sat, cross the
354
THE BUFFALO
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 extras —
lunch box, book, kodak, glasses, etc. — and wormed
our way as rapidly as possible toward the bottom of
the hill. We utilized the coveras 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, how-
ever, I had opportunity to notice its high and au-
stere character, with the arching overhead vines, and
the clear freedom from undergrowth in its heart.
Across this cleared space we ran at full speed, crouch-
ing 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 border-screen 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
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
grass. Our calculations were quite accurate. We
stalked successfully, and at last, drenched in sweat,
found ourselves lying flat within ten yards of a smal!
bush behind which we could make out dimly the
black mass of the largest beast we had seen from
across the way.
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. There-
fore, 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 emerged
the ugly outline and two upstanding horns of a rhi-
noceros!
“‘Faru!”’ | 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 ill-
assorted 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
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THE BUFFALO
Sasa across to pick up the effects we had left on the
opposite ridge, while I myself struck directly across
the flat toward camp.
I had plunged ahead thus, for two or three hun-
dred 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. Attempt-
ing 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 anti-rhino demonstrations. I
had no time to fool with rhinos, anyway. I wanted
to get through that jungle before the leopards left
their family circles. SolI hurled clods of earth and
opprobrious shouts and epithets in the four directions
357
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 campfires; and so got home.
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 herd — always 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 margin was
always so narrow, however, that our hopes were kept
alive.
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 moun-
tains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but about
half-past 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
358
THE BUFFALO
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 three-quarters-grown cub that appeared within easy
shot from some reeds below us.
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 ad-
vance, 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 clear daylight before us. It really seemed
that luck had changed at last.
We settled ourselves, unlimbered for action, and got
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 thirty-odd yards from where we lay.
And they came no farther! I never passed a more
heart-breaking 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 ac-
customed 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 breath-
lessly through the small openings, desperately in a
360
THE BUFFALO
hurry, almost painfully on the alert. In the dark
shadow sixty yards ahead stood a half dozen mon-
strous bodies all facing our way. ‘They suspected
the presence of something unusual, but in the dark-
ness 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 mag-
~ nification enabled me to see partially into the shad-
ows. Every one of the group carried the sharply
inturned points to the horns: they were all cows!
An instant after I had made out this fact, they
stampeded across our face. ‘The whole band thun-
dered and crashed away.
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 twigs and branches of
the thicket. All below was indistinguishable black-
ness.
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
361
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 direc-
tion. At the heavy double report, the herd broke
wildly to right and left and thundered away. I con-
fess 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 dis-
covered our bull down, and all but dead. To make
sure, I put a Winchester bullet into his backbone.
We felt ourselves legitimately open to congratu-
lations, 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 made appropriate remarks to
each other, lacking anybody to make them for us,
362
THE BUFFALO
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 Win-
chester, and started him for camp after help. As
he carried off the lantern, it was now up to me to
make a fire and to make it quickly.
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 des-
perate 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 half-
way job a dozen times, as I should have done and
usually would have done, I would have had a fire
innotime. 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
363
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 atthe fire. Finally, about nine o’clock, I made
out two lanterns bobbing up to me through the trees.
The last incident to be selected from many ex-
periences with buffaloes took place in quite an un--
visited 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 harte-
364
THE BUFFALO
beeste, 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 any-
thing 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 place
for the shade-loving buffalo as could be imagined.
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 com-
fortable by the water’s edge; C. went to superintend
the disposal of Billy’s mule. Billy had sat down be-
neath 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
365
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 Billy, peacefully unwinding her
long veil, she seemed fairly under the beast.
I had no weapon, and any moment might bring
some word or some noise that would catch the ani-
mal’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 indubitably kill her.
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
hand.
366
THE BUFFALO
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 weighed
not far from three thousand pounds.
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 en-
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
gagement while he was unaware. On the other hand,
his present attitude — half away from me — was
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
indication of a desire to be anywhere but there.
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. Amomentlater C.’s great elephant gun roared
from somewhere behind me as he fired by a glimpse
368
THE BUFFALO
through the brush at the charging animal. It was
an excellent snapshot, and landed back of the ribs.
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 be immediately
back of the guns. We came together at the thicket’s
edge.
The animal’s movements could be plainly fol-
lowed 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. Hewasstill 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 bullet-holes
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.
369
XXVI
JUJA
OST 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 considerable curiosity and
no knowledge of what it is and how it looks.
We came to Juja atthe 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 long
grass.
For an hour we plodded slowly along. Herds of
zebra and hartebeeste drew aside before us, dark
379
JUJA
heavy wildebeeste — the gnu — stood in groups ata
safe distance their heads low, looking exactly like
our vanished bison; ghostlike bands of Thompson’s
gazelles glided away with their smooth regular mo-
tion. On the vast and treeless plains single small
objects standing above the general uniformity took
an exaggereated 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 hori-
zon a dark straight clump of trees. It danced in the
mirage, and blurred and changed form, but it per-
sisted. A strange patch of white kept appearing
and disappearing again. This resolved itself into
the side of a building. A spider-legged water tower
appeared above the trees.
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 bor-
der ran before them. The avenue ended before a
low white bungalow, with shady verandas all about
it, and vines. A formal flower garden lay immedi-
ately 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 cafions.
371
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
Two white-robed Somalis appeared on the ve-
randa to inform us that McMillan was off on safari.
Our own boys approaching at this moment, we there-
upon 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 over-
looking a river. In all directions are tremendous
grass plains. Donya Sabuk—the Mountain of
Buffaloes — is 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 pos-
sibly forty acres has been enclosed on three sides by
animal-proof 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 gar-
den 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 raised a great variety and
abundance of vegetables, fruits, and grains.
Juja House, as has been said, stands back a hun-
372
JUJA
dred 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 bunga-
lows 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
ice-plant and the post-office 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 plant, a pumping plant and a few
details of the sort.
Such is a relief map of Juja proper. Four miles
away, and on another river, is Long Juju, 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
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THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
enough to constitute more than an isolated and
lonesome patch.
Before leaving London we had received from Mc-
Millan 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 white-robed 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 by
bamboo curtains and vines, furnished with the luxu-
rious 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 ant-
mals 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 of game on the plains.
And inside — mind you, we were fresh from three
months in the wilderness — we 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 at-
mosphere of homelike comfort. We fell into easy
chairs, and seized books and magazines. The So-
374
JUJA
malis 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
dining-room. The table was white with napery,
glittering with silver and glass, bright with flowers.
We ate leisurely of a well-served course dinner, end-
ing with black coffee, shelled nuts, and candied
fruit. Replete and satisfied we strolled back across
the veranda to the main house. F. raised his hand.
“Hark!” he admonished us.
We held still. From the velvet darkness came
the hurried petulant barking of zebra; three hyenas
howled.
375
XXVII
A VISIT AT JUJA
EXT 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 coast — Billy
not with me — and 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 half-caste 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 fix-
ings, 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
376
A VISIT AT JUJA
sounded like very opprobrious epithets at such
natives as did not get out the way quickly enough to
suithim. ‘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 na-
tives 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 cafions
and about the edges of rounded hills. To the right
one can see far out across the Athi Plains.
We met an almost unbroken succession of people.
There were long pack trains of women, quite cheer-
ful, bent over under the weight of firewood or vege-
tables, many with babies tucked away in the folds
of their garments; mincing dandified warriors with
poodle-dog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewel-
lery brought to a high polish, a fatuous expression
of self-satisfaction 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 red-sashed Sudanese,
377
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
transporting Government goods; wild-eyed staring
shenzis from the forest, with matted hair and goat-
skin garments, looking ready to bolt aside at the
slightest alarm; coveys of marvellous and giggling
damsels, their fine-grained skin anointed and shin-
ing 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 far-off Abyssinia or Somaliland
under convoy of white-clad turbaned grave men of
beautiful features; donkey safaris in charge of dirty
degenerate looking East Indians carrying trade goods
to some distant post — all these and many more, go-
ing one way or the other, drew one side, at the sight
of our white faces, to let us pass. |
About two o’clock we suddenly turned off ppt
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 en-
countered 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 inta
378
A VISIT AT JUJA
the avenue of trees. Our approach had been seen.
Tea was ready, and a great and hospitable table of
bottles, ice, and siphons.
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, accus-
tomed 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 de-
veloped 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
379
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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, their
blankets wrapped shamelessly about their necks.
They were harried about by a red-faced beefy Eng-
lish gardener with a marvellous vocabulary of several
native languages and a short hippo-hide 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 do-
ing what they were already doing in exactly the same
manner. Probably the purple Englishman was sat-
isfied with that, but I am sure apoplexy of either the
heat or thundering variety has him by now.
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. No-
body 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 store-
keeper, 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 ciass na-
tives; 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 McMil-
380
A VISIT AT JUJA
lan’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 company...
We went to mail a letter, and found the postmaster
to be a gentle-voiced, 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 ad-
mired and praised; whereupon, still shyly, he pro-
duced 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 deep-
381
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS —
chested man, with a lofty air of fierce pride. He
and his handful of soldiers alone of the natives, ex-
cept the Somalis and syces, dwelt within the com-
pound 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 jewellery, and patterned Mericani wrapped
gracefully about their pretty figures.
By the time we had seen all these things it was
noon. Weatelunch. 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 glad I did. It was a most astonish-
ing performance. .
You must imagine us driving out the gate in a
buckboard behind four small but lively white Abys-
sinian mules. In the front seat were Michael, the
Hottentot driver, and McMillan’s Somali gun-
bearer. In the rear seat were McMillan and my-
self, 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 espied a lone wildebeeste.
382
A VISIT AT JUJA
The wildebeeste is the Jekyll and Hyde of the ani-
mal 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
stiff-legged, and generally performs like an irre-
sponsible infant. To see a whole herd at once of
these grave and reverend seigneurs suddenly blow
up into such light-headed capers goes far to destroy
one’s faith in the stability of institutions.
Also the wildebeeste is not misnamed. He is a
conservative, and he sees no particular reason for
allowing his curiosity to interfere with his precon-
ceived beliefs. The latter are distrustful. There-
fore he and his females and his young — I should say
small — depart 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 ex-
act replicas of the big ones, just as Niobe’s daughters
are in nothing childlike, but merely smaller women.
When we caught sight of this lone wildebeeste
383
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 rattlety-bang, every one hang-
ing 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 symptom.
““Now!”’ he yelled, when he saw it.
Instantly Michael threw his weight into the right
384
A VISIT AT JUJA
rein and against the brake. We swerved so vio-
lently to the right and stopped so suddenly that I
nearly landed on the broad prairies. The manceuvre
fetched us up broadside. The small black syce —
and heaven knows how he had managed to hang on
— darted 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 fusil-
lade from the remaining shots. Then with a violent
jerk and a wild yell we were off again.
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 prec-
ipices. I do not know the name of the manufac-
turer 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.
385
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 head-
man and his askaris were quietly searching the boys’
quarters. After a time they appeared. The sus-
pected men had concealed nothing: but the searchers
brought with them three of McMillan’s shirts which
they had found among the effects of another, and
entirely unsuspected, boy named Abadie.
“How is this, Abadie?” demanded McMillan
sternly.
Abadie hesitated. Then he evidently reflected
that there is slight use in having a deity unless one
makes use of him.
386
A VISIT AT JUJA
“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 saddle-
horses, beaters, shotguns, rifles, and revolvers, and
we sallied forth for a grand and joyous time. The
day from a sporting standpoint was entirely suc-
cessful, the bag consisting of two waterbuck, a zebra,
a big wart-hog, 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 un-
failing kindness rather than as a participant in the
life of the farm.
,
387
XXVIII
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
SHORT time later, at about the 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 made us a gorgeous
offer. |
“Tf,” 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 intelli-
gent. We had also a Somali cook, and six ordinary
bearers to do general labour. This small safari we
388
————S ee ee eee
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
started off afoot for Juja. The whole lot cost us
about what we would pay one Chinaman on the
Pacific Coast.
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 brief-lived white lilies and an
abundance of ground flowers washed the slopes with
colour. Beneath the grass covering, the entire sur-
face 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 excep-
tionally level and near the top of the ground.
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
389
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 bril-
liant 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; tremen-
dous patches of shadow lay becalmed on the plains;
bright sunshine poured abundantly its; warmth and
yellow light.
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 espe-
39°
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
cially 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 metamorphosing
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 continued crescendo. At last the deluge
of rain burst actually as a relief.
3gt
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
And whata deluge! Facing it we found difficulty
in breathing. In six seconds every stitch we wore
was soaked through, and only the notebook, to-
bacco, 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 had become the
water course of a swiftly running brook.
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 hear the steady musical dripping
of waters.
Pleasant it was also to walk out from Juja in al-
most any direction. "The compound, and the build-
ings and trees within it, soon dwindled in the dis-
tances of the great flat plain. Herds of game were
always in sight, grazing, lying down, staring in our
392
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
direction. The animals were incredibly numerous.
Some days they were fairly tame, and others ex-
ceedingly 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 nervous-
ness might follow nights of unusual activity by the
lions; one could invent a dozen possibilities. Per-
haps the kongonis decided it.
At Juja we got to know the kongonis even better
than we had before. They are comical, quizzical
beasts, with long-nosed humorous faces, a singu-
larly 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 expression.
““Pooh!”’ says the kongoni himself, after a good
look, “pooh! pooh!” with the most insulting in-
flection.
He is very numerous and very alert, One or more
393
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
of a grazing herd are always perched as sentinels
atop ant hills or similar small elevations. On the
slightest 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 com-
plicates 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 coun-
try, 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 protection. Wildebeeste are much given to
this.
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
394.
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
enters upon a vain pursuit. If the horse is an es-
pecially good one, so that the kongoni feels himself
a trifle closely pressed, the latter stops bouncing and
runs. Then he simply fades away into the distance.
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 en-
suing battle is usually fought out very stubbornly
with much feinting, parrying, clashing of the lyre-
shaped horns; and a good deal of crafty circling for a
favourable opening. As farasI 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 coun-
try; 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 satis-
fied, indeed, as it seems to me, long after the dic-
395
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
tates of common decency would call a halt that per-
sistent and single-minded pursuer bounds solemnly
and conscientiously along in the wake of his dis-
gusted rival.
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 suf-
ficient to reveal many hundreds. Among them fed
herds of the smaller Thompson’s gazelle, or ““Tom-
mies.”” So small were they that only their heads
could be seen above the tall grass as they ran.
To me there was never-ending fascination in walk-
ing out over those sloppy plains in search of adven-
ture, and in the pleasure of watching the beasts.
Scarcely less fascination haunted a stroll down the
river canons 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 bot-
tom lands. Naturally an entirely different set of
animals dwelt here; and in addition one was often
treated to the romance of surprise. Herds of im-
palla 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
396
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
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 hun-
dred pacing decorously along the river bottom be-
low 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 semblance
of effort.
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 jack-rabbits, but perfect little deer for
all that. The incredibly plebeian wart-hog 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, pigeons,
397
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
quail, and jack snipe, not to speak of a variety of
plover.
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 fol-
lowed him a mile or so afoot, hoping to be able to put
in a finishing shot. As sometimes happens the ani-
mal 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 va-
rieties. 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 wonderful sight.
On the plains of Juja, also, I had my one real
398
Ee
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
_ African Adventure, when, as in the Sunday Supple-
ments, I Stared Death in the Face — also everlast-
ing 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 Spring-
field, 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 afew paces over three hundred yards I
landed on the zebra, but did not knock him down.
Then I set out to follow. It was along 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. When-
ever 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
*I am sorry I did not try out this heavy-calibred rifle oftener at long range.
It was a marvellously effective weapon at close quarters; but I have an idea —
but only a tentative idea — that above three hundred yards its velocity is so
reduced by air resistance against the big blunt bullet as greatly to impair its
hitting powers,
399
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
the rifle. As I had no more cartridges for this arin,
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 byme. Not at
all! He swung around on the circle too, and made
after me. I could see that his ears were back, his
eyes blazing, and his teeth snapping with rage. It
was a malicious charge, and, as such, with due de-
liberation, I offer it to sportsman’s annals. AsI 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! |
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
400
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
our clothes, we sipped and read the papers — two
months off the press, but fresh arrived for all that —
until a white-robed, 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 contrasts — of naked
savages clipping formal hedges, of windows opening
from a perfectly appointed brilliantly lighted dining-
room to a night whence float the lost wails of hyenas
or the deep grumbling of lions, of cushioned luxu-
rious 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 formai
garden, with a sundial, gravelled walks, bordered
flower beds, and clipped border hedges. One night
40.r
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 ve-
randa rail. There just below her, trampling the
flower beds, tracking the gravel walks, endangering
the sundial, stood a hippopotamus!
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 partner-
ship. 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. Fascinat-
ing as was the life, it was also one of many depriva-
tions. 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,
402
|
A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
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 in-
troduced 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 de-
claim vehemently over the Alabama claims.
“IT blush with shame,” he would cry, “when I
think of England’s attitude in that matter.”
We pointed out that the dispute had been ami-
cably 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!’ everybody else would draw back!”
403
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS '
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 ill-assorted partnership
turned out.
Two other neighbours of ours dropped in once or
twice — twenty-six 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 Nai-
robi, 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 ground was
just right for plowing, but they did not want to
miss the ball!
Occasionally a trim and dapper police official
would drift in on horseback looking for native crim-
inals; and once a safari came by. ‘Twelve miles
away was the famous Kamiti Farm of Heatly,
where Roosevelt killed his buffalo; and once or
404
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A RESIDENCE AT JUJA
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 mysterious system of their own whenever
there is anything to be done.
We stayed at Jujaa little overthree weeks. Then
most reluctantly said farewell and returned to Nai-
robi in preparation for a long trip to the south.
405
XXIX
CHAPTER THE LAST
ITH 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 com-
prehensive impression — it could hardly be a pic-
ture of so large a subject —of 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 rhinoceros-haunted stretches of the Tsavo;
Nairobi, the strangest mixture of the twentieth cen-
turies A. D. and B. C.; Mombasa with its wild, bar-
baric 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 un-
known country beyond the Narossara and other af-
fairs will there be detailed. If the reader of this
volume happens to want more, there he will find it.
406
;
.
:
APPENDIX I
Most people are very much interested in how hot
it gets in such tropics as we traversed. Unfortu-
nately it is very difficult to tell them. Tempera-
ture tables have very little to do with the matter,
for humidity varies greatly. On the Serengetti and
lower reaches of the Guaso Nyero I have seen it well
above 110degrees. It was hot, to be sure, but not ex-
haustingly so. On the other hand, at 90 or 95 along
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 re-
corded night temperatures as low as 40 at 7,000
feet of elevation; and noon temperatures as low as
65.
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 con-
stant; 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 practi-
407
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
cally 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 some people stand these actinic rays
better than others.
Such being the case, mere temperature tables
could have little interest to the general reader. I
append a few statistics, selected from many, and il-
lustrative of the different conditions.
Locality. Eleva- 6 8 Apparent conditions
tion. a.m. noon. p.m.
ame tee ee rne eli 80 90 76 Very hot and sticky
Teidla River’ 05) 05's) (2900 65 94 84 Hot but not exhausting
Tana River aT Mg, oe? Ad DAS 68 98 79 Hot but not exhausting
Near Meru ahs | alr Weak CMR 62 80 70 Very pleasant
Serengetti Plains . . . 2200 78 106 86 Hot and humid
Nardéssara River . . . 5450 54 89 69 Pleasant
Naréssara Mts. . . . 7400 42 80 50 Chilly
NarGesara Mts. . . . 6450 .'40- 62 52 Cold
408
APPENDIX IIT
GAME ANIMALS COLLECTED
Lion
Serval cat
Cheetah
Black-backed jackal
Silver jackai
Striped hyena
Spotted hyena
Fennec fox
Honey badger
Aardewolf
Wart-hog
Waterbuck
Sing-sing
Onibi (3 varieties)
Eland
Giraffe
Roan antelope
Bushbuck
Total, fifty-four kinds
Bush pig
Baboon
Colobus
Hippopotamus
Rhinoceros
Crocodile
Python
Ward’s zebra
Grevy’s zebra
Notata gazelle
Roberts’ gazelle
Klipspringer
Dik-dik
Wildebeeste
Roosevelt’s wildebeeste
Steinbuck
Buffalo
Grant’s gazelle
Thompson’s gazelle
Gerenuk gazelle
Coke’s hartebeests
Jackson’s hartebeests
Neuman’s hartebeests
Chandler’s reedbuck
Bohur reedbuck
Beisa oryx
Fringe-eared oryx
Duiker
Harvey’s duiker
Greater kudu
Lesser kudu
Sable antelope
Impalla
GAME BIRDS COLLECTED
Marabout
Egret
Glossy ibis
Egyptian goose
White goose
English snipe
Mallard duck
Total, twenty-two kinds
Gadwall
European stork
Quail
Sand grouse
Francolin
Spur fowl
Greater bustard
Lesser bustard
Guinea fowl
Giant guinea fowl
Green pigeon
Blue pigeon
Dove (2 species)
APPENDIX III
For the benefit of the sportsman and gun crank
who want plain facts and no flapdoodle, the follow-
ing statistics are offered. To the lay reader this
inclusion will be incomprehensible; but I know my
gun crank —I am one myself!
ARMS
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 of
my shooting, as the trajectory was remarkably good,
and the killing power remarkable. Tried out both
the old-fashioned soft point bullets and the sharp
Spitzer bullets, but find the latter far the more ef-
fective. 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
410
APPENDIX
recognize. The bullets seemed on impact always to
flatten slightly at the base — the point remaining
intact — to 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 an-
other 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 boil-
ing 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
411
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 responsi-
ble. The few small pittings, however, did not seem in
any way to have affected the accuracy, as the rifle
shot the following groups: 33 inches at 200 yards;
7; inches at 300 yards; and 113 inches at 500 yards.*
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 ‘“‘var-
mints” 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
*It shot one five-shot 1§-inch group at 200 yds., and several others at all
distances less than the figures given, but I am convinced these must have been
largely accidental.
412
ee
APPENDIX
short, handy, and reliable. One experience with a
zebra 300-350 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. [ 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 danger-
ous game. So firmly do I believe this that I gener-
413
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
ally 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 there-
by knocked down and held down, subsequent shots
can accomplish that desirable result only by reach-
ing a vital spot or by tearing tissue. As an example
of this I might instance a waterbuck into which I
saw my companions 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 ali of them hit
the beast. I am perfectly aware that this view will
probably be disputed; but it is the result of con-
siderable experience, close observation and real in-
terest in the game. The whole record of the Win-
chester was 56 hits out of 7o cartridges fired; rep-
resenting 27 head of game.
The 465 Holland & Holland double cordite rifle.
414
APPENDIX
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 cafion,
with the 300-yard leaf up on the back sight. Its
game list however was limited to rhinoceroses, hippo-
potamuses, 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 representing 13
head of game.
The conditions militating against marksmanship
are often severe. Hard work in the tropics is not
the most steadying régime 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
sun-heated 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 maxi-
mum of 311.
415
APPENDIX IV
THE AMERICAN IN AFRICA
IN WHICH HE APPEARS AS DIFFERENT FROM
THE ENGLISHMAN
T IS always interesting to play the other fellow’s
game his way, and then, in light of experience,
to see wherein our way and his way modify eachother.
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 ourown. The
basis of that method is to do without; to go light.
At first even the best of us will carry too much plun-
der, but ten years of philosophy and rainstorms,
trails and trials, will bring us to an irreducible mini-
mum. 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 transportation.
With this ideal deeply ingrained by the test of
experience, the American camper is appalled by the
416
APPENDIX
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 one hundred and fifty men
gathered as his personal attendants.
“Great Scot!” he cries, “I want to go camping;
I don’t want to invade anybody’s territory. Why
the army?”
He discovers that these are porters, to carry his
effects.
““What effects?” he demands, bewildered. As
far as he knows, he has two guns, some ammuni-
tion, and a black tin box, bought in London, and
half-filled with extra clothes, a few medicines, a
thermometer, and some little personal knick-knacks.
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 frying pan and
kettle or so.
The English friend has known several Americans,
so he explains patiently.
“‘T 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
417
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 comfort you can get;
and you want to save yourself all you can.”
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 ina row, each with
its padlock. “I didn’t go infor luxury,” apologizes
the English friend. ‘‘Of course we can easily add
anything you want but I remember you wrote me
that you wanted to travel light.”
“What are those?” our American inquires, point-
ing to the locked boxes.
He learns that they are chop boxes, containing
food and supplies. At this he rises on his hind legs
and paws the air. |
“Food!” he shrieks. ‘‘Why, man alive, I’m
alone, and I am only going to be out three months!
I can carry all I’ll ever eat in three months in onz
of those boxes.”
. 418
APPENDIX
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 packing — and your champagne.
““Champagne,” breathes the American in awe-
stricken tones.
“Exactly, dear boy, an absolute necessity. After
a touch of sun there’s nothing picks you up better
than a mouthful of fizz. It’s used as a medicine,
not a drink, you understand.
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 bé fighting any-
thing; but they keep the men going, and act as sort
of sub-foremen in bossing the complicated work.
Next is your cook, and your own valet and that of
your horse. Also your two gunbearers.
“Hold on!” cries our friend. “I have only two
guns, and I’m going to carry one myself,”
419
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
But this, he learns, is quite impossible. It is
never done. It is absolutely necessary, in this cli-
mate, to avoid all work.
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 boxes — total twenty-six, plus the staff, as
above, thirty-six. Why all the rest of the army?
Very simple: these thirty-six men have, according
to regulation, seven tents, and certain personal ef-
fects, and they must have “‘potio” or a ration of one
and a half pounds perdiem. These things must be
carried by more men.
“T see,” murmurs the American, crushed, “‘and
these more men have more tents and more potio,
which must also be carried. It’s like the House
that Jack Built.”
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 elab-
orate safari must be. The procession takes the
field. He soon sees the value of the four askaris —
the necessity of whom he has secretly doubted.
Without their vigorous seconding the headman
would have a hard time indeed. Also, when he ob-
420
APPENDIX
serves the labour of tent-making, 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 mos-
quito boots, and sits down to dinner. This is
served to him in courses, and on enamel ware. Each
course has its proper-sized plate and cutlery. He
starts with soup, goes down through tinned white-
bait or other fish, an entrée, a roast, perhaps a
- curry, a sweet, and small coffee. He is certain-
ly being “done well,” and he enjoys the comfort
of it.
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 itis. But, after all,
it is a little galling to the average man to think that
it requires a hundred and fifty men to take care of
him. Your Englishman doesn’t mind that; he en-
joys being taken care of: but the sportsman of Amer-
ican training likes to stand on his own feet as far as
he is able and conditions permit. Besides, it is ex-
pensive. Besides that, it is a confounded nuisance,
especially when potio gives out and more must be
42a
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
sought, near or far. Then, if he is wise, he begins
to do a little figuring on his own account.
My experience was very much as above. Three
of us went out for eleven weeks with what was con-
sidered a very ‘“‘modest”’ safari indeed. It com-
prised one hundred and eighteen men. My fifth and
last trip, also with two companions, was for three
months. Our personnel consisted, all told, of forty
men.
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 basic
essentials — food, 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, cof-
fee, flour, salt, oatmeal. But on the other hand, he
certainly does not need a five-course dinner every
night, nor a complete battery of cutlery, napery and
table ware toeatitfrom. Flour, sugar, oatmeal, tea
and coffee, rice, beans, onions, curry, dried fruits,
a little bacon, and some dehydrated vegetables will
do him very well indeed — with what he can shoot,
422
APPENDIX
These will pack in waterproof bags very comfort-
ably. 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 prop-
erly balanced food supply, he has met the situation.
If, in addition, he takes canned goods, soda si-
phons, 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 inalien-
able 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
North — by 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
423
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
same token it is not his right to pretend that lux-
uries 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 dzf-
ferently. 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 condemnation by calling names.
The American temperament, on the contrary,
being more experimental and independent, prefers
to build anew upon its essentials. Where the Eng-
lishman covers the situation blanket-wise 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 com-
pletely. He objects strongly to losing the keen
enjoyment of overcoming difficulties and enduring
424
APPENDIX
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 effects — as I have seen
it done — he will so employ and take. That is
all right: he likes it.
But the American does not like it. A good deal
of the fun for him is in going light, in matching him-
self 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 ever-recurring
thought — that he is such a helpless mollusc that
it requires a small regiment to get him safely around
the country! ,
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,
425
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
The Englishman waxes a trifle caustic on the sub-
ject of “‘pigging it’; and the American indulges in
more than a bit of sarcasm on the subject of “‘being
led about Africa like a dog on a string.”
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 cut-
lery, and so cuts out a load and a half of assorted
kitchen utensils and table ware. He even does with-
out 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 phys-
ical 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 miscella-
neous 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
426
APPENDIX
list but little different from that of his Rocky Moun-
tain trips. Some few items he has cut down; and
some he has substituted; but bulk and weight are
the same. For his three months’ trip he has four or
five chop boxes all told.
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 men
—he is off with a quarter the number of his first
“modest safari.”
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 concen-
tration 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 common-
sense on how to get atit. 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
427
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
the sort to get, but of what to take. The tents,
cooking affairs, etc., are well adapted to the coun-
try. In selecting your tent, however, you will do
very well to pick out one whose veranda fly reaches
fairly to the ground, instead of stopping halfway.
1 tent and ground sheet
1 folding cot and cork mattress
1 pillow, 3 single blankets
1 combined folding bath and washstand (“X” brand)
I camp stool
3 folding candle lanterns
1 gallon turpentine
30 lbs. alum
I river rope
Sail needles and twine
3 pangas (native tools for chopping and digging)
Cook outfit (select these yourself, and cut out the extras)
2 axes (small)
Plenty laundry soap
Evaporation bag
2 pails
10 yards cotton cloth (“‘Mericani’’)
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 mo-
bility 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 like a dog on a string.”’
428
APPENDIX V
THE AMERICAN IN AFRICA
WHAT HE SHOULD TAKE
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. Invari-
ably they have followed the Englishman’s ideas al-
most 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 caviare — if you do not like
caviare; 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 caviare.
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
429
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 a4 prior1; it requires the test of ex-
perience to determine how to meet, in our own way
the unusual demands of climate and conditions.
And please note, when the heads of these equip-
ment 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 the
American sportsman, let us see if we cannot do some-
thing for ourselves.
At present the American has either to take over in
toto the English idea, which is not adapted to him,
and is — to him — a nuisance, or to go it blind, with-
out 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
430
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:
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APPENDIX
anywhere. He—and I am thinking emphatically
of him — would avidly devour the details of the
proper outfit for the gentle art of hunting the to-
tally extinct whiffenpoof.
Let us begin, first of all, with:
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 unob-
trusively 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 ver-
tical-rays-of-the-tropical-sun (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 the
sun is strong.
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,
431
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
Your tent boy washes them out whenever he can
lay hands on them—it is one of his harmless
manias.
Your shirt should be of the thinnest brown flan-
nel. Leather the shoulders, and part way down
che 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 de-
scription. A spine pad is a quilted affair in con-
sistency like the things you are supposéd to lift hot
flat-irons with. On the outside it is brown flannel,
like the shirt; on the inside it is a gaudy orange col-
our. ‘The latter is not for esthetic 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
haye to be very tough, and of fast colour. The best
432
— ee:
APPENDIX
cut is the “‘semi-riding,” 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 un-
fitted a contraption for the purpose in hand. Ina
country teeming with poisonous insects, ticks, fever-
bearing mosquitoes; in a country where vegetation
is unusually well armed with thorns, spines and
hooks, mostly poisonous; in a country where, of-
tener than in any other a man is called upon to get
down on his hands and knees and crawl a few as-
sorted abrading miles, it would seem an obvious
necessity to protect one’s bare skin as much as pos-
sible. 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
433
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
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 old-time hunters like Cuninghame
or Judd wore shorts. The real reason is not that
they are cool, but that they are picturesque. Com-
mon belief to the contrary, your average practical,
matter-of-fact Englishman loves to dress up. I
knew one engaged in farming — picturesque farm-
ing — in our own West, who used to appear at after-
noon 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 merely trying to
keep mistaken shorts off you.
For leg gear I found that nothing could beat our
American combination of high-laced 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 mercury-
impregnated 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
434
2”
APPENDIX
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 remark, I have received no espe-
cial favours from Mr. Cutter.
‘Six pairs of woollen socks — knit by hand, if pos-
sible — will 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 suéde leather,
with thin soles. It is most comfortable. My ob-
jection is that it is unsubstantial and goes to pieces
in a very brief time even under ordinary evening
wear about camp.
You will also want a coat. In American camping
I have always maintained the coat is a useless gar-
ment. There one does his own work to a large ex-
tent. When at work or travel the coat is in the
way. When in camp the sweater or buckskin shirt
435
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
is handier, and more easily carried. In Africa,
however, where the other fellow does most of the
work, a coat is oiten very handy. Do not make the
mistake of getting an unlined light-weight gar-
ment. When you want it at all, you want it warm
and substantial. Stick on all the pockets possible,
and have them button securely.
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 rifle
—most 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 boys commendable mania for laundry work.
Add handkerchiefs and you are fixed.
You will wear most of the above, and put what
remains in your “officer’s box.” This is a thin
steel, air-tight affair with a wooden bottom, and is
the ticket for African work.
Sporting. Pick out your guns to suit youre
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,
436
APPENDIX
etc. I rather thought so myself, and accordingly
shipped a trifle over 1,500 rounds of small bore car-
tridges. Unfortunately, I never got into the field
with any of my numerous advisers on this point, so
cannot state their methods from first-hand infor-
mation. 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 ammuni-
tion. In eight months of steady shooting, for ex-
ample — shooting for trophies, as well as to feed a
safari of fluctuating numbers, counting jackals,
marabout and such small trash —I 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 bring that many cartridges.
To carry these cartridges I should adopt the Eng-
lish 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
437
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
leather pockets to carry your watch, your money,
your matches and tobacco, your compass — any-
thing 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 note-
book. 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 non-detachable
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 “‘loose-
leaf” 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 dark — you
can do nothing with them — but of the new am-
berol, the sort that excludes the ultra-violet rays,
but otherwise makes the world brighter and gayer.
438
ee ee ee a
Oe ot,
APPENDIX
Spectacle frames of non-corrosive white metal, not
steel, are the proper sort.
To clean your guns you must supply plenty of
oil, and then some more. The East African gun-
bearer has a quite proper and gratifying, but most
astonishing horror for a suspicion of rust; and to
use oil any faster he would have to drink it.
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 safety-pins, 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 of gun cloth, and
the medicine kit.
The latter divides into two classes: for your men
and for yourself. The men will suffer from certain
well defined troubles: “‘tumbo,” or overeating; diar-
rhoea, bronchial colds, fever and various small injuries.
For “tumbo” you want a liberal supply of Epsom’s
salts; for diarrhoea you need chlorodyne; any good ex-
pectorant for the colds; quinine for the fever; per-
manganate 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 elabo-
439
THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS
rate lot: Laxative, quinine, phenacetin, bismuth
and soda, bromide of ammonium, morphia, camphor-
ice, 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 as an emer-
gency ration after fever.
By this time your tin box is fairly well provided.
You may turn to general supplies.
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