VICTORIA NYANZA 115 



We had heard plenty of lions that night; in fact one 

 of them came entirely too close for comfort. Neither 

 Bud nor myself can be classed as having nervous dis- 

 positions, but after hstening to the chorus of lions here- 

 abouts for several hours before going to sleep, who can 

 blame us for springing up like a couple of jacks-in-a- 

 box when, during the middle of the night, one of the 

 large sausages fell from the top of the tree and lit 

 ku-plunk near our cots? We both thought a Uon had 

 jumped right between us I 



When we drove away, the chief with his wives and 

 a few young boys were busily and happily engaged cut- 

 ting up the meat, which they would afterwards dry in 

 the sun. We got started on the wrong cow path, which, 

 brought us into strange country. Just as we were pre- 

 paring to turn around and retrace our wheel tracks 

 we came upon a big "n'goma" or native dance, at 

 which many warriors were prancing and chanting. 

 These men were dressed in skins, wore lion head- 

 dresses, and had wonderful big war shields. Some of 

 them spoke Swahih, and so we talked to them about 

 coming to my camp and spearing hons for picture pur- 

 poses. It was all agreed upon and arrangements made 

 to return for them at a specified time. 



After getting started in the right direction again, 

 we found the country gently sloped toward that im- 

 mense inland sea, Victoria Nyanza, which covers 

 roughly twenty-seven thousand square miles. Late 

 that evening we drove into the place called Musoma. 

 Our first call was at the pohce station where they 

 were mighty glad to see us — not in the line of duty, 

 but because it is very seldom indeed that a white man 

 drops into their station. We were invited to have 



