Big Game Shooting 



close to the herd, who, having been rather worried 

 during the last few days, were ready to take offence 

 at anything. They stopped and stared at the white 

 man, and the big mottled bull objecting to being 

 photographed began to stamp and snort, trying 

 to make himself angry. At last he could stand it 

 no longer ; down went his head and up went his 

 tail, and he thundered down on the unfortunate 

 camera. Needless to say I skipped over a fence 

 out of his way, and left him master of the 

 situation. 



I spent Christmas, 1904, in another part of 

 East Africa. I had gone up by train with my 

 Masai Company of the King's African Rifles, at a 

 moment's notice, to the Nandi country, to patrol 

 the Uganda Railway near Lake Victoria. The 

 Nandi are an offshoot of the Masai, the only 

 difference being that they speak another dialect. 

 They, too, are cattle fanciers, and on the slightest 

 sign of a row away go their beasts guarded 

 by picked warriors into the depths of the forests, 

 where they are hidden away in rocky gorges till 

 the trouble is past. One may wander over the 

 hills and along the paths at such times and never 

 see a living thing, but every now and then you 

 hear a shout echoing across the valley from the 

 hill opposite, perhaps a mile away a shout that 

 is caught up and repeated from one eminence to 

 the other, till the whole countryside reverberates 

 with sound. This is the Nandi method of tele- 



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