BEYOND THE HILLS 241 



Athi and the other at Voi. We reached the Tsavo 

 River just before dark, to find it running in flood and 

 the flimsy bridge about a foot under water. To our 

 left stood the new raihoad bridge which was con- 

 structed to replace the one made famous by the man- 

 eating hons of Tsavo. The old span could no longer 

 stand the heavy railroad traffic, but instead of using 

 this historical structure, built at the cost of so many 

 human hves, for a highway bridge, the railroad admin- 

 istration had this world-famous monument torn down, 

 fearing road improvements would invite motor-truck 

 transport and lessen the railroad's revenue. 



We slept that night at McKinnon Road and had 

 breakfast next morning with a white man in charge 

 of a black crew working on the railway. He was 

 mighty glad to meet someone who could speak EngHsh, 

 and upon finding I was from Colorado, told me he had 

 spent a few years before the war riding the range in 

 Wyoming, and that he wanted to go back. 



When we penetrated into the coastal zone the heat 

 became sticky and oppressive, but this is the Africa 

 of song and story — the land of tropical scenes, of 

 color and romance. As we rolled down the green 

 liills toward the distant blue of the Indian Ocean, we 

 passed huge mango trees, waving palms, banana 

 plantations, ferns, and flowering shrubs of many kinds. 

 Wliat a contrast to the dusty and burnt countryside 

 of the interior were these lovely pictures of vafley and 

 hill, where rainbow hues were set like jewels amid 

 the many shades of green that covered the landscape I 



While on the native ferry, crossing to the island, 

 I became impatient to visit again my friends, the 

 Dohertys, and shortly afterwards we were gathered 



