188 THE LAND’ OF, TRE LION 
unaccountable things, and sportsmen who have been thus 
favoured by them, have often been known to say that ele- 
phant hunting is a simple matter. But ask the men who 
know. Read such a book as poor Newman’s, who was the 
greatest elephant hunter East Africa has ever seen, and all 
say the same thing. No sport is so arduous as elephant 
hunting, perhaps none is so dangerous, though I think there 
is little doubt that, for the relative numbers of elephant and 
lions killed, the latter take a larger roll of human life. 
The denser forest country of the Protectorate holds still 
a very large number of elephant, but from its very nature, 
it is of little use trying to shoot them within it. The breeze 
is too uncertain, a silent approach impossible, and a resolute 
following up of the wounded out of the question. Hoey 
has spent months trying to kill some of the very large bulls 
that bury themselves in the dense tangles of the Elgao woods 
to east of our plateau. He has secured just one, and that 
one came out into the open one August evening. 
There is another element of danger besides the elephants 
themselves that attends forest hunting in these regions. 
It is the game pit. Now game pits, even in the open veldt, 
are bad enough. They are so cunningly concealed that 
an observant man may fall into them and be quite seriously 
hurt — three of my men did so this trip. But when 
these deadly death traps are set in densest wood, con- 
cealed by creepers and heavy shade trees, armed too, let it 
be remembered, in many cases with sharp stakes set so as to 
impale any unfortunate that falls in, then commonest 
prudence will avoid following game where they are known 
to be used. 
Chatting by the camp fire two nights ago, we were 
discussing the likelihood of securing a good buffalo head 
in the lower ranges of the Cherangang to the east. The old 
chief of the Cherangang N’dorobo, who accompanies us 
on our trip, listened for a time, and then said: “Yes, there 
