I40 EXCURSIONS FROM NJEMPS part ii 



we thought he was going to charge, and we lost him. In spite 

 of its having been unsuccessful, this lion hunt was the most 

 pleasant incident in the dreary stay at Njemps. I am not an 

 enthusiastic sportsman under the most comfortable of circum- 

 stances. As this shooting involved starting at three in the 

 morning, stumbling for nearly two hours in a swamp, and then 

 waiting wet and shivering till, with the first streak of daylight, 

 the zebras came down to drink, I thought it very poor fun. 

 Moreover, when the first bullet was not fatal, as was generally 

 the case, a furious obstacle race was necessary, across rough 

 country and through thorn scrub, till a second could be placed 

 with better effect. As most of this work came at a time when 

 I ought to have been snugly tucked up in bed, and fed on hourly 

 doses of arrowroot or rice gruel, such violent exercise was 

 especially objectionable. A friend once asked if I were not 

 sorry for the zebra, but on these occasions I was far too sorry for 

 myself to have any sympathy to spare for anything else. Once or 

 twice I sent out some of the porters, who could be trusted not 

 to sell their cartridges to the traders. But the Zanzibari had 

 even less of the spirit of Nimrod in them than I had ; they 

 wasted some precious ammunition, and probably spent the day 

 asleep under a bush. They thought that as I had led them out 

 into the desert, away from the fleshpots of Mombasa, it was my 

 duty to feed them. There was so much reason in this, that, 

 in spite of the discomfort and loss of time, I went on with the 

 hunting. 



The days thus dragged wearily on, and there was still 

 no news of Omari. The threatened war was confined to a 

 few attempts at sheep-raiding in Kamasia, by small parties of 

 the Njempsians. The active hill-tribes, however, were too 

 much for the starved natives of the valley, and succeeded in 

 massacring every party sent against them. My own efforts at 

 zoological collecting were almost as unsuccessful as those of 

 my friends ; for after my return to camp from shooting, I was 

 always too tired to attempt any work. I had a shed built 

 beside the river, and used to lie in it, watching for a crocodile 

 to show its head upon the surface, when I at once planted a 

 Martini bullet in it. After a few days, however, this amusement 

 was played out ; but we could cross the ford in the morning, 

 feeling more at our ease. 



