250 THE LAND OF THE LION 
of probably 500,000 square miles (no one has measured 
it yet, but such is the estimate of Mr. Gregory, one of the 
ablest and best informed of those who have written on it). 
These things being held in mind, I would say to all who 
come here, get all the information you can from officials, 
then get in touch with the best natives, and then go slow 
and take time. 
New men, new beasts, new birds and insects are round 
you everywhere. Go out to watch and study the wild 
life, not merely to kill it. 
Often the most interesting time in the day to me, was 
the quiet hour or more I tried to take before the sun set. I 
would choose a spot from which I could command a view 
and, staying quite still, would watch. In the evening 
I never shot unless I had to. Twice I saw at that time 
a cautious leopard stealing round in the grass, and each 
time I gave up my nature study to follow him, but in vain. 
Once I saw a great porcupine come out of his secret 
hiding place, almost at my feet. Mr. F. J. Jackson, 
perhaps the best naturalist in the country, tells me he 
has never succeeded in seeing one, and that I had rare 
luck. I had chosen a low rocky ridge, about two 
miles from camp, as my goal. The sun was setting 
gloriously over Lake Naivasha, and beneath me hundreds 
of Grant’s antelope, ““Tommy,” and zebra were feeding 
quietly. 
I heard a gentle sort of rattling noise in some rocks 
not ten yards below where I sat, and out of a big crack 
in them a black nose peeped. He never looked above 
him — animals seldom do—and when he had satisfied 
himself that the coast was clear, out he came. The way 
that porcupine unfolded his immense sheaf of quills was 
a wonder. First he shot them out a little, as though he 
were treating himself to a yawn, and then wider and wider 
the white and black quills were spread and flattened on 
