254 THE LAND OF THE LION 
harm done. We gave it up at last as a useless expenditure 
of ammunition. We fixed thorn bomas round it, tried 
every possible device to force the visitor to pull at the 
meat from the front, but in vain. 
These hyenas certainly knew that they must not come 
at the meat they wanted, and which they always carried 
away, no matter how securely it was tied on, from the 
front. It really looked as though they had placed a paw 
on the trigger and then proceeded to dine leisurely. 
I never saw so large a python as one H. secured on the 
Nzoia. He almost walked on it as he was tramping the 
border of a large swamp. It lay fast asleep and died 
immediately at a shot in the head. The skin was mag- 
nificently coloured shining with a purple iridescence, which 
left it soon after death. Three men could not haul the 
body, which measured unskinned 24 feet 6 inches, out of 
the soft yielding ground. And more had to come from 
camp before it could be handled. 
Python on Victoria are not uncommon, but are not 
often so large as this one. 
Snake stories are proverbial, and here is one actually 
true, yet so unbelievable that it could have happened 
nowhere but in Africa: 
Captain , commanding one of the smart steamers 
that ply round the great lake, was bringing to Kasumo 
(the rail-head of the Uganda road) a little band of pas- 
sengers from up country —civil officers, hunters and 
military men — some six or seven, I believe, in all. They 
had on the long way down to the coast been celebrating 
too constantly their temporary return to the homeland 
—their six months’ leave in three years’ service. It 
was late afternoon, and since there is no hotel at Kasumo 
and the train for Mombassa did not start till next morning, 
all the party remained on the steamer and were having 
five o’clock tea — shall I call it? —on deck. Captain 
