LAST DAYS ON THE SERENGETTI 275 



Another bright morning found Mike and me again 

 chasing giraffe over pig holes and through the trees; 

 he driving at top speed to get the camera into position, 

 and I striving with might and main to hold on to the 

 careening truck, at the same time keeping the camera 

 together so that when we did get ready to photograph 

 there would be something left to take pictures >vith. 



These animated towers are capable of running 

 nearly forty miles an hour, but they cannot keep this 

 up for a great length of time; in fact, it is injurious 

 for them to be chased in this manner for more than a 

 short distance. For that reason, after securing two 

 or three scenes of a herd, we would leave them and go 

 to look for another. I have often marveled that we 

 came through all of our giraffe filming without a serious 

 accident, but we did, and when the last scene had been 

 photographed, Mike and I shook hands and thanked 

 our lucky stars that we were still ahve and that this 

 dangerous bit of work was finished. 



While searching for picture possibihties, we strayed 

 into a strange country, finding a valley where thousands 

 of antelope were holding a convention. It must be 

 almost inconceivable to one who has not visited Africa, 

 that so much wild life still exists in the modern world. 

 To the hunter at home, such numbers seem impossible; 

 to us, these vast herds had become commonplace, part 

 of the landscape. It is Hkely that during such days 

 as this we encountered more game than the average 

 man sees in liis entire fife time. 



While skirting a donga which winds through this 

 previously unexplored region, I espied a spotted head 

 and shoulders suddenly appear out of the tall grass. 

 I was suffering with a sphtting headache caused by a 



