Big Game Shooting 



the dome of Kibo comes in view, with its 

 glaciers and the bare rock below, then a strip of 

 white rhododendrons in full blossom, like a ring 

 on the finger of a bride ; lower, the dark blue- 

 green of forest seen first high up in the distance, 

 and then clothing the mountain-side nearer to 

 one, a broad belt of forest trees and impenetrable 

 jungle ; lower still, nearer oneself, between the 

 forest and the observer, broad emerald - green 

 waving slopes of grass, down, down to the plain 

 beneath, dotted with herds of game in countless 

 numbers. This is a lovely land worth living in, 

 worth shooting in, worth coming back to ? Yes, 

 worth anything. Africa is always calling one 

 back. There is a something mysterious in the 

 country. Not a day passes but one sees or hears 

 or learns something new about the great Dark 

 Continent. Man has held his sway there for 

 years, but it is well-named Dark. How many 

 are the wiser as concerns its hidden mysteries ? 

 How many are there who really know anything 

 at all about the strange people who live there ? 

 There is an extraordinary fascination about it all. 

 The birds say " Come back ! " So do the flowers 

 and the trees when they rustle in the evening, 

 and the very breeze that blows one away from 

 Mombasa when homeward-bound sighs, " Come 

 back ! Come back ! " 



Laitokitok once reached, one's labours can be 

 begun. The Nyiri marshes can just be touched 



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