272 AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 



The day after we were out on plains untenanted by hu- 

 man beings, and early in the afternoon struck water by 

 which to pitch our tents. There was not much game, and 

 it was shy; but I thought that I could kill enough to keep 

 the camp in meat so I sent back the two Scotchmen and 

 their Kikuyus, after having them build a thorn boma, or 

 fence, round the camp. One of the reasons why the Masai 

 had driven their herds and flocks off this plain was be- 

 cause a couple of lions had turned man-eaters, and had 

 killed a number of men and women. We saw no sign of 

 lions, and believed they had followed the Masai; but there 

 was no use in taking needless chances. 



The camp was beside a cold, rapid stream, one of the 

 head-waters of the Guaso Nyero. It was heavily fringed 

 with thorn timber. To the east the crags and snow- 

 fields of Kenia rose from the slow swell of the mountain's 

 base. It should have been the dry season, but there were 

 continual heavy rains, which often turned into torrential 

 downpours. In the overcast mornings as I rode away from 

 camp, it was as cool as if I were riding through the fall 

 weather at home; at noon, if the sun came out, straight 

 overhead, the heat was blazing; and we generally returned 

 to camp at nightfall, drenched with the cold rain. The 

 first heavy storm, the evening we pitched camp, much ex- 

 cited all my followers. Ali came rushing into the tent to 

 tell me that there was "a big snake up high." This cer- 

 tainly seemed worth investigating, and I followed him out- 

 side where everybody was looking at the "snake," which 

 proved to be a huge, funnel-shaped, whirling cloud, career- 

 ing across the darkened sky. It was a kind of waterspout 

 or cyclone; fortunately it passed to one side of camp. 



