A BUFFALO-HUNT BY THE KAMITI 129 



on our right, and below at our feet was a great pool of 

 swirling water. Thick foliaged trees, of strange shape 

 and festooned with creepers, climbed the sheer sides of the 

 ravine. A black-and-white eagle perched in a blasted 

 tree-top in front; and the bleached skull of a long-dead 

 rhinoceros glimmered white near the brink to one side. 



On another occasion we took our lunch at the foot of 

 Rewero Falls. These are not as high as the falls of the 

 Nairobi, but they are almost as beautiful. We clambered 

 down into the ravine a little distance below and made our 

 way toward them, beside the brawling, rock-choked torrent. 

 Great trees towered overhead, and among their tops the 

 monkeys chattered and screeched. The fall itself was 

 broken in two parts like a miniature Niagara, and the 

 spray curtain shifted to and fro as the wind blew. 



The lower part of the farm, between the Kamiti and 

 Rewero and on both sides of the Nairobi, consisted of 

 immense rolling plains, and on these the game swarmed in 

 almost incredible numbers. There were Grant's and 

 Thomson's gazelles, of which we shot one or two for the 

 table. There was a small herd of blue wildebeest, and 

 among them one unusually large bull with an unusually 

 fine head; Kermit finally killed him. There were plenty 

 of wart-hogs, which were to be found feeding right out in 

 the open, both in the morning and the evening. One day 

 Kermit got a really noteworthy sow with tusks much longer 

 than those of the average boar. He ran into her on horse- 

 back after a sharp chase of a mile or two, and shot her 

 from the saddle as he galloped nearly alongside, holding 

 his rifle as the old buffalo-runners used to hold theirs, 

 that is, not bringing it to his shoulder. I killed two or three 



