220 AFRICA SPEAKS 



in size until shortly the heavens are full of beautiful 

 cumulus clouds. They have not drifted from over 

 the horizon but have created themselves right above 

 your head. Toward the end of day, when you stand 

 silently, almost reverently, to watch a magnificent 

 sunset, you suddenly reahze that the gorgeous clouds 

 have melted away as silently as they came. 



My poetic reveries were interrupted by a school of 

 snorting hippopotami who were thus telling us of their 

 displeasure at our coming here to disturb their peace 

 and quiet. Lake Baringo supports a large population 

 of these ponderous water horses, and for every hippo- 

 potamus there are a thousand crocodiles. They seem 

 to get along in perfect harmony while alive. Upon 

 the death of a hippopotamus, it is a different story; 

 then the crocodiles swarm around the carcass of their 

 departed neiglibor, fighting for his flesh. 



While watching the playful hippopotami splashing 

 and diving, I became aware that a crocodile was sleep- 

 ing in the shallow water about sixty yards away. All 

 I could see was the top of its head, but taking a care- 

 ful bead with my 7 mm. Mauser, managed to hit it. 

 The reptile's tail furiously lashed the muddy water, 

 stirring up an awful row and frightening all the birds 

 along the shore Hne. I took another shot, putting 

 the second bullet alongside the first, but as the croco- 

 dile continued to move lakewards, fired again. This 

 time the bullet glanced off its armored back and went 

 whizzing toward the escarpment. This did not 

 matter, for the crocodile was quite dead and had only 

 moved a few feet from the spot where the first shot 

 struck it. Two bullets had landed just above the 

 eyes, the best place to hit one of these carnivorous 



