THE ENCHANTED FOREST. 363 



Sunday-morning landscape of groves and green 

 grass and a feeling of church bells. 



Only down the valley, diminished by dis- 

 tance, all afternoon Masai warriors, in twos and 

 threes, trooped by, mincing along so that their 

 own ostrich feathers would bob up and down, 

 their spears held aslant. 



We began to realize that we were indeed in a 

 new country when our noon thermometer regis- 

 tered only 66, and when at sunrise the following 

 morning it stood at 44. To us, after eight 

 months under the equator, this was bitter 

 weather ! 



