INTO THE GREAT RIFT 237 



I made another trip to Lake Baringo in a last attempt 

 to secure some motion pictures of crocodiles. On the 

 way I shot a young impalla for meat and later a Grant's 

 gazelle and some spur fowl. I found our fifty hippo- 

 potami still in the same spot, snorting and splasliing 

 and having a great time. It was one of my ambitions 

 to photograph them at close quarters, but this was 

 impossible here, for we could not find suitable material 

 from which to build a raft, and only on some such 

 contrivance could we hope to approach them. 



The crocodiles were swimming all about but none 

 had been obhging enough to get itself caught, so we 

 reset the hook with a wart hog as bait and then started 

 on a trek around one side of the lake to a distant 

 rocky point where the N'jemps informed me the rep- 

 tiles came out to sun themselves. After hours of 

 arduous work in an attempt to get through thick thorn 

 bush and over big boulders, I called a halt. Upon 

 learning from my guide that it would be easier to 

 reach the point by taking a wide circle, I decided to 

 make another effort later, so returned at once to our 

 crocodile blind. Finding that the crocodiles were 

 still avoiding the hook, I took my Remington and 

 commenced shooting at them just for spite. After 

 firing all the cartridges I had with me, I started toward 

 a marsh with a shotgun, hoping to obtain a few ducks 

 and geese. 



While trekking along, my boy called attention to 

 what looked like a distant cloud of black smoke hang- 

 ing over the far shore of Lake Baringo, where it curved 

 over the earth's rim toward Abyssinia. In reply to 

 my questions the N'jemps explained that it was a 

 great mass of bugs. From his descriptions of former 



