248 AFRICA SPEAKS 



A broken front spring delayed us, tsetse flies bit 

 us, and some canned fish poisoned Jones. I recom- 

 mended CC pills, and Jones swallowed two, thus 

 starting a string of events which were to give him an 

 unusual and thriUing initiation into African safari life. 



Camp was made that night near a large outcropping 

 of rocks, and hardly had we stopped when our friend, 

 Simba, welcomed us with a mighty roar. While eating 

 our meal, Ted, Austin, and myself discussed some 

 lion adventures, incidentally mentioning how bold 

 they were at this particular spot and how one man 

 had spent the night in a tree because they insisted 

 on walking around his bed. At first Jones tried to 

 laugh about the matter, saying we were talking like 

 this to frighten him, but when the hons continued to 

 grunt and roar aU around the camp, and the pills 

 began to take effect, his attitude changed. It was the 

 first night of a full moon; it was the first night that 

 Jones had ever slept on a lion-and-hyena-infested 

 veldt. The prowlers circled close to camp all night 

 long, thus preventing Jones from going too far afield, 

 but next morning he told us of the shadows cast by 

 the moon, of night birds that uttered strange sounds, 

 and of his undying hate for canned fish and army 

 pills. 



A pair of these Hons awakened us with a final burst 

 of roaring within five hundred yards of our beds, so 

 we got up for an early breakfast, after w hich we drove 

 onward through a parklike country, enjoying to the 

 full the clear morning air. We had crossed the Border 

 River and with each mile the game increased in variety 

 and number. About midday we reached Kifimafeza, 

 where we stopped for a cup of tea with Major Wanvick, 



