SEFARI LIFE 141 
man much good —and yet, many live it. They are like 
the poor old “‘chaw bacon” who sat hour after hour, day 
after day, by his cottage fire. ‘‘What do you do sitting 
there for so long, saying nothing?” ‘‘Well, sometimes I 
sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits.” A man is 
easier to live with, for having kept company for an hour or 
two with some of those, who, being dead, yet lead us and 
teach us. 
There are certain things one is accustomed to, at home, 
which are better left off, here. Cold baths, are unfortu- 
nately among the number. I suppose a very young and strong 
man could enjoy his cold tub with impunity for a time, but 
certain it is, that no one, no matter how hardy, who has 
been long on the veldt, can take one. Just now we are 
nursing my friend’s hunter, who came down three days 
ago with a violent chill. We had to cross our mules over 
a river, running in flood. ‘There had been heavy snow falls, 
in Kenia, and the snow water loses most of its chill, soon 
as it leaves the woodland border of the mountain. Still, 
for African water it was cold. The mules had to swim, and 
in getting them over, he was, perhaps, for ten minutes, waist 
deep. A hundred and five degrees of temperature is a heavy 
price to pay for a cold bath —yet he is young and hardy. 
One friend of mine I persuaded to give up the luxury of his 
cold douche, till, after an unusually long and hot march, 
having had time to thoroughly cool off, he could no longer 
resist the clear brown water, by which our tents were 
pitched. He came down that night with a heat rash, 
that made next day’s march an experience he is never 
likely to forget. Cold water is enticing, but avoid it, and 
take a very hot bath in your canvas bath tub, with a 
good rub-down, instead. 
Be al. __ careful to look for signs of crocodiles, even 
on small rivers, and warn your sefari to be careful; the 
