4 THE LAND OF THE LION 
of the sun, not yet risen, on a far lower, and more common- 
place world. Great mountains are usually so surrounded 
by gradually rising country that they are robbed somewhat 
of their height. Kilimanjaro, however, rises sheer from a 
plain only two thousand feet above the sea —and over 
these levels it towers superbly. Like all African mountains 
it is broadly belted by forest. Above this it lifts itself in 
this one mighty cone, whose steep sides and flattened 
summit, no less than fourteen miles across, are covered 
with perpetual snow. 
Half an hour after sunrise the rising mists of the wood- 
lands have closely woven their swathing veils around it. 
The mountain has vanished, and you can scarcely persuade 
yourself, as you jolt over the dazzling plain, that the vision 
of an hour ago was more than a dream. 
I have often seen Kilimanjaro since then, but never 
as I saw it first, during that half hour before the sun- 
rising. In full daylight its height and bulk are imposing. 
though few, I think, would hold it remarkable for its beauty, 
But the mystery and magic of that crimsoning column, 
rising out of utter darkness against the morning sky, was 
alone worth a long journey — and | shall never forget it. 
Nairobi, the capital of the Protectorate, is more than 
three hundred miles from the sea, and stands at an altitude 
of nearly six thousand feet. ‘The site was mistakenly chosen 
without doubt, and the native town, as well as the shop 
and bazaar lie too low, and are not easy to drain. But 
Nairobi has one charm that should not be denied it. That 
is the fine broad well metalled main street that runs for more 
than a mile straight from the railroad depot to the Norfolk 
Hotel. 
I cannot fancy any other mile of roadway in semi- 
civilized Africa so interesting. Farmers, Boers, civil 
officers, and soldiers very smartly dressed, in well-fitting 
canvas or khaki, and last, but by no means least, the 
