I50 THE REDISCOVERED COUNTRY 



although it was a certainty that the Mara was some- 

 where ahead, no one could guess how far it was even 

 likely to be. We angled on in our probable direction, 

 struggling over hills tangled high with grass, chopping 

 our way foot by foot through the too-frequent wide 

 jungles. In these jungles the forest was not only fine 

 and high, but it was also tangled, dense, and broad. 

 Very hard work for me, as I was still a bit ill, and the 

 sun was very strong. At about three o'clock we left 

 Sanguiki to tell Dolo to camp the donkeys, and to come 

 on next morning; we feared the hard work would kill 

 our few remaining beasts. At five o 'clock we had not 

 reached the river, though we knew it could not be far 

 ahead. Cuninghame and I separated and began to 

 look for water wherever we saw palms. At last found 

 some beautiful clear pools filtered through gravel to a 

 delicious coolness. It was alkaline but not undrinkable. 

 When the safari came singing and shouting in, we 

 camped. The more tired out your African is the 

 louder he sings. 



No sooner was camp made than we were treated to 

 a smasher of a tropical thunderstorm. One of the 

 Wakoma stood out stark naked in the rain, his arms 

 upraised. To every clap of thunder he shouted back 

 an answer in a loud tone of voice. When the storm 

 had died he still remained, and would promptly catch 

 up and answer each and every diminishing peal. He 

 was a fine sight, as he was revealed by the flashes — 



