Round Lake Natron 



standing under one dozing and lazily flicking 

 off the flies with his ears and tail. As a matter 

 of fact, one gets accustomed, however tired and 

 worn one is, to keeping a sharp look-out in front, 

 if not to each side, of the line of march. 



"Hullo!" my friend exclaimed, " there are 

 our old pals, the impalah ! " Sure enough, there 

 was a very fine buck, bigger than I had seen 

 in the neighbourhood, and we had been there for 

 some three weeks. " I don't think it can be the 

 same herd," I said, "as they ought to be resting 

 over by that old Wandorrobo village now. It 

 must be another herd strayed down here, or else a 

 single buck. It looks to me like the latter, as 

 he's a bigger head than any herd-impalah I have 

 seen here. Can you see any more ?" 



I think it must be intuition that teaches one 

 habits of game, where to find them at odd times 

 of day after one has been living in a certain 

 district for any length of time. This latter factor 

 most distinctly holds good, as by dint of hard 

 work and sparing no pains to attain the end in 

 view, as well as by keeping one's eyes very wide 

 open in one's interviews with the hosts of local 

 trackers who come into camp at all times of the 

 day and night, one can collect endless informa- 

 tion. 



Whilst enjoying a comfortable smoke in the 

 evening after dinner, one's "savage" approaches 

 and says that a local pal of his wishes to talk. 



219 



