BIRDS 19 



floated a snowy Caspian tern. Among the lilies and 

 in the open water beyond were a myriad coots and 

 grebes, ducks and cormorants, and further still were 

 great fleets of pelicans. Overhead were circling and 

 constantly crying a pair of sea-eagles, sometimes so 

 high up that it was difficult to make out the two shout- 

 ing specks against the sky, and sometimes so low 

 that one could clearly see the brilliant black and white 

 and chestnut of their plumage. It is said that there 

 are no fish in Naivasha, but so vast a swarm of fish- 

 eating birds would hardly come here if that were 

 true. On a shallow sunken mud-bank is a lonof line 

 of white, which shows a tinge of black and crimson 

 as the great flock of flamingoes rises and flaps 

 lazily away. Happily there are no crocodiles here, 

 but hippos abound, and one may often catch a glimpse 

 of nose and eyes as they He in the shallows basking 

 in the sun, or at night, when they feed, hear them 

 crashing through the reeds. 



It is only here and there that one can follow the 

 water's edge ; mostly the reeds are too thick and 

 the ground too swampy for any but a water-buck to 

 pass. Along the outside, where the grass meets the 

 reeds, are big flocks of Egyptian geese, which spend 

 the day in sleep, but make noise enough in the 

 evening and early morning. Here, too, are black 

 ibises, wary as curlews, and sacred ibises in small 

 parties of two and three, always busily searching for 

 food, exploring every inch of ground. Prettier and 

 more confiding are the great white heron and the 



