THE LOST SAFARI 



weight, and to press us down from above. We 

 filled our canteens many times at the swift-running 

 stream, and emptied them as often. By two o'clock 

 F. was getting a little wobbly from the sun. We 

 talked of stopping; when an unexpected thunder 

 shower rolled out from behind the mountains, and 

 speedily overcast the entire heavens. This shadow 

 relieved the stress. F., much revived, insisted that 

 we proceed. So we marched; and passed many more 

 hills. 



In the meantime it began to rain, after the whole- 

 hearted tropical fashion. In two minutes we were 

 drenched to the skin. I kept my matches and note- 

 book dry by placing them in the crown of my cork 

 helmet. After the intense heat this tepid downpour 

 seemed to us delicious. 



And then, quite unexpectedly, of course, we came 

 around a bend to make out through the sheets of 

 rain the steel girders of the famous Tsavo bridge.* 



We clambered up a steep slippery bank to the 

 right of way, along which we proceeded half a mile 

 to the station. ' 



This consisted of two or three native huts, a house 

 for the East Indian in charge, and the Station build- 

 ing itself. The latter was a small frame structure 



This is the point at which construction was stopped by man-eating lions. 

 See Patterson's "The Man-eaters of Tsavo." 



241 



