OUR SAFARI 



headquarters of the British Trading Company, in whose 

 hands we had placed the organizing of our safari. Our 

 tents were pitched close to the residence of Mr. M. Moses, 

 the popular manager of the B.T.C., and a large number of 

 our porters were camped close by. 



That day I changed from my ordinary clothes to 

 safari gear. Thick helmet, khaki flannel shirt, with 

 pockets, short knickerbockers, and puttees. Many people 

 make a great mistake in travelling in heavy boots ; 

 certainly one requires strong footwear, but to have 

 heavy boots is a fatal mistake. It is always as well to 

 have the soles spiked, for it is often necessary to rely 

 on fleetness of foot, and without spikes one cannot make 

 headway on the dry slippery grass. 



Passing through a certain town in British East Africa 

 on the down trip I saw one or two men — not children — 

 resplendent in an exaggerated rig-out that resembled 

 something between a Boy Scout and a Cow Puncher. 

 Knives, revolvers, and other cumbersome accoutrements 

 entered largely into the scheme. My friends informed 

 me that they were living close by — not far from hotels — 

 and had just arrived from the old country. I thought 

 thev had escaped from a Wild West show ! These white 

 men were all right to look at on the stage, but rather out 

 of place in British East Africa. 



That evening we had a most enjoyable time with Mr. 

 Moses. I met Bishop Hanlon, of the Roman Catholic 

 Mission, on Nysambya Hill. 



Next dav I had an opportunity of seeing their rubber 

 and coffee plantations, of which the Fathers are naturally 

 proud, and they are always pleased to show them to 

 visitors. I consider that the Roman Catholic Mission 

 is doing a real good work, and for good sound company, 

 Bishop Hanlon and the Fathers working with him are 

 hard to beat. Bishop Hanlon can speak from experience 

 of the early days in Uganda, and I was greatly interested 



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