THE LAST FRONTIER 



the wart-hog exceedingly. Out he comes full tilt, 

 bent on damaging some one, and it takes quick 

 shooting to prevent his doing so. 



Once, many hundreds of miles south of the Tana, 

 and many months later, we were riding quite peace- 

 ably through the country, when we were startled 

 by the sound of a deep and continuous roaring in a 

 small brush patch to our left. We advanced cau- 

 tiously to a prospective lion, only to discover that 

 the roaring proceeded from the depths of a wart-hog 

 burrow. The reverberation of our footsteps on the 

 hollow ground had alarmed him. He was a very 

 nervous wart-hog. 



On another occasion, when returning to camp from, 

 a solitary walk, I saw two wart-hogs before they saw 

 me. I made no attempt to conceal myself, but stood 

 absolutely motionless. They fed slowly nearer and 

 nearer until at last they were not over twenty yards 

 away. When finally they made me out, their in- 

 dignation and amazement and utter incredulity were 

 very funny. In fact, they did not believe in me at 

 all for some few snorty moments. Finally they 

 departed, their absurd tails stiff upright. 



One afternoon F. and I, hunting along one of the 

 wide grass bottom lands, caught sight of a herd of 

 an especially fine impalla. The animals were feed- 



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