30 THE LAND OF THE LION 
hunting in our woods and mountains — mere encumbrances. 
I cannot enter here fully into this side of the question, 
and can only say if you cut these figures down much, 
you will surely be sorry for it. You had better be guided 
by the experience of those who have lived sefari life for 
years. Here in Africa you cannot take the happy chance 
that every one gladly accepts in northern climates. ‘Three 
men to a tent means a big heavy tent, it is true, but to travel 
with any other is to endanger your health. Your tent 
is your home for months. Often you must eat as well as 
sleep in it. And in all weather, even under equatorial 
torrents, it must be dry. You may have long days of sick- 
ness in it—then it must be cool. And so on. I only 
name the African tent as an illustration of the absolute 
need of ‘‘doing yourself well” in everything. If you 
cannot do this, go somewhere else than to British East 
Africa Protectorate. 
You can count on your men costing you from 15 ru- 
pees to 18 rupees a month each (15 rupees equals £1 or 
$5), the difference depending on the price you must pay 
for their potio. If you wish to travel more rapidly, you 
will take your sefari perhaps the first stage of the way 
by the railroad, and since you thus cover in one day what 
it would take you several days to do marching, you will 
find the expense comes to about the same. You will 
find that a month away from all base of supplies is about 
your practical limit. For remark — and if you remember 
this it will save you: many tedious efforts after calculation 
—each man carries sixty pounds of potio, and each eats 
forty-five pounds each month. A porter is, therefore, 
able to carry fifteen pounds only for you in addition to his 
food. A sefari of one hundred porters, not including, 
remember, gunboys, headman, tentboys, cook or syce 
—can carry for a month 1,500 pounds over and above 
their food and no more. Of course, this is all very con- 
