86 RHINO AND GIRAFFES [ch. iv 



often lie up in patches of brush, they do not care for 

 thick timber. 



After shooting the wart-hog we marched on to our 

 camp at Bondoni. The gun-bearers were Mohammedans, 

 and the dead pig was of no service to them ; and at 

 their request I walked out while camp was being pitched 

 and shot them a buck ; this I had to do now and then, 

 but I always shot males, so as not to damage the 

 species. 



Next day we marched to the foot of Kilimakiu 



Mountain, near Captain Slatter's ostrich farm. Our 



route lay across bare plains, thickly covered with 



withered short grass. All around us as we marched 



were the game herds, zebras and hartebeests, gazelles 



of the two kinds, and now and then wildebeests. 



Hither and thither over the plain, crossing and recross- 



ing, ran the dusty game trails, each with its myriad 



hoof-marks — the round hoof-prints of the zebra, the 



heart-shaped marks that showed where the hartebeest 



herd had trod, and the delicate etching that betrayed 



where the smaller antelope liad passed. Occasionally 



we crossed the trails of the natives, worn deep in the 



hard soil by the countless thousands of bare or sandalled 



feet that had trodden them. Africa is a country of 



trails. Across the high veldt, in every direction, run 



the tangled trails of the multitudes of game that have 



lived thereon from time immemorial. The great beasts 



of the marsh and the forest made therein broad and 



muddy trails which often offer the only pathway by 



which a man can enter the sombre depths. In wet 



ground and dry alike are also found the trails of savage 



man. They lead from village to village and in places 



they stretch for hundreds of miles, where trading parties 



have worn them in the search for ivory, or in the old 



