A RED-LETTER DAY 



ON E day, at the beginning of February, 

 on my way from Nairobi to join the 

 Anglo-German Boundary Commission, 

 during a march of five days, I had an 

 afternoon's shoot which is worth while recording. 

 Some twenty-five miles from the Soda Lake, 

 Magardie, which the East African Syndicate are 

 proceeding to develop, we had stopped for the 

 day at a large water-hole at the foot of one of 

 the mountains of that district, to camp for the 

 night. 



The country in this southerly part of the Rift 

 Valley greatly resembles North Somaliland in 

 several ways, in its bare and desolate character 

 in the hot weather, as well as in its vegetation 

 and animal life. The stony plains, sparsely 

 covered with burnt-up grass, trees, and low 

 umbrella thorn bushes, clumps of "hig" aloes 

 and cactus, and the bare, rocky mountains of a 

 volcanic nature, bring back old scenes in the 

 campaigns against the "Mad" Mullah very 

 vividly. The greater kudu is there, although 

 I did not come across any, and so is the Waller's 



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