THE LAST FRONTIER 



quail, and jack snipe, not to speak of a variety of 

 plover. 



In the drier extents of dry grass atop the bluffs 

 the dance birds were especially numerous; each with 

 his dance ring nicely trodden out, each leaping and 

 falling rhythmically for hours at a time. Toward 

 sunset great flights of sand grouse swarmed across 

 the yellowing sky from some distant feeding ground. 



Near Juja I had one of the three experiences that 

 especially impressed on my mind the abundance of 

 African big game. I had stalked and wounded a 

 wildebeeste across the N'derogo River, and had fol- 

 lowed him a mile or so afoot, hoping to be able to put 

 in a finishing shot. As sometimes happens the ani- 

 mal rather gained strength as time went on; so I 

 signalled for my horse, mounted, and started out to 

 run him down. After a quarter mile we began to 

 pick up the game herds. Those directly in our 

 course ran straight away; other herds on either side, 

 seeing them running, came across in a slant to join 

 them. Inside of a half mile I was driving before me 

 literally thousands of head of game of several va- 

 rieties. The dust rose in a choking cloud that fairly 

 obscured the landscape, and the drumming of the 

 hooves was like the stampeding of cattle. It was 

 & wonderful sight. 



On the plains of Juja, alo, I had my one real 



