262 STALKS ABROAD 



relief on the bed. He left the next day, but funnily 

 enough, without hearing of the shooting party and the 

 lion-cub ! 



And now my dream is over, and the past two 

 years are numbered with those others which have 

 gone down into the mists of time. To me they have 

 brought many changes. It seems but last week 

 that I watched the docks fade behind me in a thin 

 drizzle of rain and set my face for the West. But it 

 is a day that has gone, that can never be recalled. 

 Still, I have my memories. 



The Northern lights flicker palely over some fir- 

 bound Canadian lake ; my ram visits me, a pale ghost 

 wandering with his band of ewes over the wide snow- 

 covered spaces of Yarlakan. Peerless Fujiyama rises 

 above the blue waters of Lake Hakone, and I move 

 again among the glories of my beloved Nikko. The 

 desolate sand dunes of Guardafui and the barren rocks 

 of Aden lie blistering in the heat, but in spirit I pass 

 them by and sit once more in the open doorway of my 

 tent. About the clearing twinkle the lights of the 

 camp fires and from the darkness beyond comes the 

 cheerful music of the cicadas. The ceaseless murmur 

 of the Tana is broken now and again by the heavy 

 splash of some mighty animal ; a horse stirs at his 

 picket. Men's voices, low pitched, come and go in a 

 fitful murmur. The clamorous clangour of the wild 

 geese winging their way above the rushes is startlingly 

 loud and clear. Occasionally a lion gives utterance to 



