LAST DAYS ON THE SERENGETTI 283 



get my Remington. He seemed to sense my inten- 

 tions, for when I came out with the rifle he was loping 

 away as fast as he could go. 



Later, as I sat picking at my typewriter, I was 

 serenaded by a circle of animals around the lonely 

 camp. About midnight some of the hyenas came 

 uncomfortably close, so with my rifle and a gasoline 

 lantern, I went out to chase them away, but it was 

 not safe to move far from camp, so I accomplished 

 nothing. My two boys were almost frightened stiff 

 and asked permission to move their shelter alongside 

 of mine. After this had been done, the lantern was 

 hung up between the two doorways beneath the canvas 

 awning, and I went to bed with tliis uneartlily chorus 

 of animals and the monotonous drizzKng of the rain 

 as a bedtime lullaby. 



I was awakened about three o'clock in the morning 

 by the purr of a motor. Rising up on my cot, I watched 

 the rain falling in the glare of the headlights as Mike 

 pulled into camp, dripping wet and covered with mud. 

 He had been driving through the storm for hours, with 

 plenty of trouble from the truck to make it doubly 

 interesting. Shortly after his arrival at the Gurmeti, 

 he thought it wise to return for me at once, so started 

 right back, for which I was duly thankful. 



Eefore daybreak we were busy packing the truck 

 in preparation for our attempt to join the others. 

 Several hours were lost on account of a gasoUne leak 

 which had to be stopped, but just before noon we were 

 ready for the road. We said farewell to Camp Simba 

 by setting fire to the dining banda; thus avenging 

 purselves upon the colony of wliite ants which had 

 been dropping sawdust into our food for weeks. 



