A CAMP SCENE 



for it would be many months before I should again 

 see any town or even a village. I then descended 

 into the plains that lay to the west. In the midst of 

 the thick bush on the lower slopes were several large 

 yak trees, in one of which was a natural cavity 

 containing some fifty gallons of rain-water. For 

 two hours we made our way through the scrub until 

 at last, when the sun was sinking, we emerged into a 

 little open plain where my camp was pitched. My 

 own tent was in the centre, with the porters' little 

 white tents behind, while all round the camp the 

 headman had built a three-foot thorn hedge ; inside 

 were my eighteen camels with all the loads, saddles, 

 etc., piled near by, while an Askari kept guard over 

 the only entrance. It was typical of many a camp 

 scene I was to see daily throughout my journey, and 

 I was filled with joy at the thought that a start had 

 been made at last. As I rode into the boma the 

 piled rifles and the bandoliered men were a grim re- 

 minder to me of the condition of the country I was 

 going to traverse ; but they were really a precaution 

 and an emblem of authority more than anything else, 

 for in case of a serious attack four police and seven 

 armed but undisciplined syces would be of little 

 avail. 



Early the following morning, after a night marred 

 by the attentions of countless mosquitoes, I set out 

 towards the north, intending to see if I could obtain 

 a specimen of the Grant's gazelle which I knew to be 

 fairly plentiful in this district. I had hardly gone a 

 mile when I saw in the distance a cloud of dust, 

 which, as I soon made out, was caused by some of 

 these animals, which were running round in the 

 bush, presumably in play. I hastily took my rifle and 



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