XXXVIII 

 THE LOWER BENCHES 



THE Narossara is really only about creek size, 

 but as it flows the year around it merits the 

 title of river. It rises in the junction of a long 

 spur with the main ranges, cuts straight across a 

 wide inward bend of the mountains, joins them again, 

 plunges down a deep and tremendous canon to 

 the level of a second bench below great cliffs, mean- 

 ders peacefully in flowery meadows and delightful 

 glades for some miles, and then once more, and, 

 most unexpectedly, drops eighteen hundred feet by 

 waterfall and precipitous cascade to join the Southern 

 Guaso Nyero. The country around this junction 

 is some of the roughest I saw in Africa. 



We camped at the spot where the river ran at 

 about its maximum distance from the mountains. 

 Our tents were pitched beneath the shade of tall and 

 refreshing trees. 



A number of Masai women visited us, laughing 

 and joking with Billy in their quizzically humorous 

 fashion. About as we were sitting down at table 



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