98 THE EAST AFRICAN RAILROAD 



ment, they were able to look down fully five thousand feet, to a shining 

 river that followed the valley's level, threading in its flow a lake and 

 many glittering pools. At this point begin those splendid forests of 

 coniferous trees which form the characteristic feature of this region. 

 Away westward may be seen the great blue mass of Mount Elgon 

 and in the nearer view a land of noble aspect. Before the eye stretch 

 rich rolling downs of luxuriant grass, bits of leafy woodland, forests 

 of acacia, and lower down, along the watercourses of the valley, vege- 

 tation of tropical type. The downs, which slope away northward for 

 fifty or sixty miles, are clad with a soft, silky grass, with hues varying 

 from a pale pink to mauve, gray or russet as the wind bends the flower- 

 ing stems. 



In passing over this plateau region the American visitors were 

 warned not to follow any seeming native path, as these were usuall}' 

 cunning devices to tempt wandering antelopes or other unsuspecting 

 animals to concealed game-traps. Such a trap would probably be an 

 oblong pitfall concealed by sticks and cut grass, through which the 

 unwary creatures might fall into a pit from which they could not 

 escape, perhaps to be impaled on a sharp-pointed stake planted in the 

 bottom of the pit. 



Animals of various species roam here in countless numbers, and 

 the few trapped in game pits by the nomad natives are too few in com- 

 parison to be considered. What will be the effect, however, if the 

 British sportsman is let loose among them, with his desire "to kill 

 something," we cannot consider without alarm; especially when we 

 consider the fate of the buffaloes of our western plains. These hunts- 

 men do not usually go abroad, as did Roosevelt and his companions, 

 to bring down only a pair of each species, for scientific purposes, but 

 rather to be able to boast how many creatures they had killed, with 

 no object but that of pure slaughter in a morning's outing. 



To a nature-lover like Theodore Roosevelt, with his joy in the 

 existence of animal life, the scene before him must have been one of 

 inspiring delight. Gazing from his point of vantage he could see 

 large herds of stately giraffes, standing or stalking about as one may 

 see cattle peacefully standing in an American grazing field. These 

 giraffes — the camelopards of our old animal story-books — are the 



