Big Game Shooting 



the narrow, well-worn footpath which does duty as 

 a road in the East African wilds ; but no adven- 

 ture worth recording befell us, except that I shot 

 my first water-buck. 



Ere long we arrived at the Thika Thika River, 

 which at the point of crossing runs deep down be- 

 tween steep banks in a broad ravine. A wooden, 

 double-lock bridge had been begun, but had been 

 left unfinished, and as the wire hawsers used for 

 hauling the big baulks into position still stretched 

 from side to side, we used these instead. One 

 by one we sat in a rough wooden seat and were 

 pulled across with a rope, the contrivance being 

 hauled back again and again, till all the men and 

 baggage were landed in safety on the right side 

 of the river. No accident happened, luckily, as 

 there was a longish drop to the water, which, more- 

 over, swarmed with voracious crocodiles of the 

 finest type. However, we provided them with 

 no food that day ! 



Another thirty-five miles saw us at Fort Hall, 

 a large stone fort with a ditch outside, perched on 

 the top of a hill commanding a splendid view 

 of mountain, river, and cultivated plains. The 

 natives in that part — Wakikuyu — are well known 

 as tillers of the soil ; in fact, almost all the labour 

 in East Africa worth talking about is drawn from 

 this huge tribe. After partaking of the hospitality 

 of the genial Sub-Commissioner and his kindly 

 wife, affairs of state were discussed and the 



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