OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 



birds, fathomless shadows and inquisitive monkeys. 

 Occasionally we emerged to the edge of a long oval 

 meadow, set in depressions among hills, like our 

 Sierra meadows. Indeed so like were these openings 

 to those in our own wooded mountains that we 

 always experienced a distinct shock of surprise as the 

 familiar woods parted to disclose a dark solemn 

 savage with flashing spear. 



We stopped at various stations, and descended 

 and walked about in the gathering shadows of the 

 forest. It was getting cool. Many little things 

 attracted our attention, to remain in our memories 

 as isolated pictures. Thus I remember one grave 

 savage squatted by the track playing on a sort of 

 mandolin-shaped instrument. It had two strings, 

 and he twanged these alternately, without the 

 slightest effort to change their pitch by stopping with 

 his fingers. He bent his head sidewise, and listened 

 with the meticulous attention of a connoisseur. 

 We stopped at that place for fully ten minutes, but 

 not for a second did he leave off twanging his two 

 strings, nor did he even momentarily relax his at- 

 tention. 



It was now near sundown. We had been climbing 

 steadily. The train shrieked twice, and unexpect- 

 edly slid out to the edge of the Likipia Escarpment. 

 We looked down once more into the great Rift Valley. 



257 



