THE LAST FRONTIER 



the plains. They were rolling, densely grown, cov- 

 ered with volcanic stones, swarming with game of 

 various sorts. The men marched well. They were 

 happy, for they had had a week of meat; and each 

 carried a light lunch of sun-dried biltong or jerky. 

 Some mistaken individuals had attempted to bring 

 along some "fresh" meat. We found it advisable 

 to pass to windward of these; but they themselves 

 did not seem to mind. 



It became very hot; for we were now descending 

 to the lower elevations. The marching through 

 long grass and over volcanic stones was not easy. 

 Shortly we came out on stumbly hills, mostly rock, 

 very dry, grown with cactus and discouraged desic- 

 cated thorn scrub. Here the sun reflected powerfully 

 and the bearers began to flag. 



Then suddenly, without warning, we pitched over 

 a little rise to the river. 



No more marvellous contrast could have been 

 devised. From the blasted barren scrub country 

 we plunged into the lush jungle. It was not a very 

 wide jungle, but it was sufficient. The trees were 

 large and variegated, reaching to a high and spacious 

 upper story above the ground tangle. From the 

 massive limbs hung vines, festooned and looped 

 like great serpents. Through this upper corridor 

 flitted birds of bright hue or striking variegation. 



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