IX. 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE. 



MANY months later, and after adventures 

 elsewhere described,* besides others not 

 relevant for the moment, F., an Englishman, 

 and I returned to Mombasa. We came from 

 some hundred odd miles in the interior where 

 we had been exploring the sources and the 

 course of the Tsavo River. Now our purpose was 

 to penetrate into the low, hot, wooded country 

 along the coast known as the Shimba Hills in 

 quest of a rare beast called the sable antelope. 



These hills could be approached in one of two 

 ways by crossing the harbour, and then march- 

 ing two days afoot; or by voyaging up to the 

 very end of one of the long arms of the sea that 

 extend many miles inland. The latter involved 

 dhows, dependence on uncertain winds, favour- 

 able tides, and a heap of good luck. It was less 



* "The Land of Footprints." 



