372 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. 



Once a wild crash and a snort told of a rhinoceros, 

 invisible, but very close. We huddled together, 

 our rifles ready, uncertain whether or not the 

 animal would burst from the leafy screen at our 

 very faces. The Masai stood side by side, the 

 long spear poised, the bow bent, fine, tense figures 

 in bronze. 



Near sundown we found ourselves by a swift 

 little stream in the bottom of a deep ravine. 

 Here we left the men to make camp, and our- 

 selves climbed a big mountain on the other side. 

 It gave us a look abroad over a wilderness of 

 hills, forested heavily, and a glimpse of the land- 

 fall far away where no white man had ever been. 

 This was as far south as we were destined to get, 

 though at the time we did not know it. Our 

 plan was to push on two days more. Near the 

 top of the ridge we found the unmistakable 

 tracks of the bongo. This is interesting to zool- 

 ogists in that it extends the southward range of 

 this rare and shy beast. 



Just at dark we regained our camp. It was 

 built California fashion for the first and last 

 time in Africa : blankets spread on canvas under 

 the open sky and a gipsy fire at our feet, over 

 which I myself cooked our very simple meal. As 

 we were smoking our pipes in sleepy content, 



