-^ Evening on the Marshes 



like fairy lanterns emitting their bright, clear radiance 

 over the otherwise jet-black marshland. Deep stillness 

 alternates with the varied sounds from all the innumer- 

 able throats. 



It is time to return to camp. One of the striped 

 hyaenas, that seem but now to come to life, is howling 

 somewhere near. Two jackals answer back. On our 

 road, straight in front of us, almost at our feet, starts 

 up some wild creature, only to disappear in terrified 

 flight among the reeds. From the panting sounds given 

 forth we are able to recognise a reedbuck {Cervicapra). 

 Through the marsh — water welling up round our feet — our 

 path leads out of the night and the wilderness to the 

 security of our camp, with its numerous fires flashing out 

 like beacons to show us the way home. 



119 



