Ill ON SAFARI 



39 



a hated rival secure a coveted tit-bit of still 

 quivering flesh is a sight to be remembered. In- 

 deed I have more than once seen a desperate 

 fight with knives take place over the possession of a 

 toothsome morsel. When he has secured a good 

 haul of meat, the native loves to make himself a 

 rude shelter, in which to gorge to his heart's content 

 and watch the sun dry up such strips of flesh as he 

 is unable to devour at the moment. 



