THE TANA RIVER 



vance of a big conflagration always impressed me. 

 One naturally pictures the beasts as fleeing wildly, 

 nostrils distended, before the devouring element. 

 On the contrary I have seen kongoni grazing quite 

 peacefully with flames on three sides of them. The 

 fire seems to travel rather slowly in the tough grass; 

 although at times and for a short distance it will 

 leap to a wild arid roaring life. Beasts will then lope 

 rapidly away to right or left, but without excitement. 



On these open plains we were more or less pestered 

 with ticks of various sizes. These clung to the grass 

 blades; but with no invincible preference for that 

 habitat: trousers did them just as well. Then they 

 ascended looking for openings. They ranged in 

 size from little red ones as small as the period of 

 a printed page to big patterned fellows the size of a 

 pea. The little ones were much the most abundant. 

 At times I have had the front of my breeches so 

 covered with them that their numbers actually 

 imparted a reddish tinge to the surface of the cloth. 

 This sounds like exaggeration; but it is a measured 

 statement. The process of de-ticking (new and 

 valuable word) can then be done only by scraping 

 with the back of a hunting knife. 



Some people, of tender skin, are driven nearly 

 frantic by these pests. Others, of whom I am thank- 

 ful to say I am one, get off comparatively easy. In 



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