LAST DAYS ON THE SERENGETTI 285 



stay. It rained hard throughout the night, and on 

 the following morning the gorge was full to the top 

 and over two hundred feet across. 



After a spoonful of beans apiece and a drink of 

 Benogie River water, we sat down to await the return 

 of Maniki, who shortly appeared with a note from 

 the major, saying that he was watching the river 

 farther up, near the mine, and as soon as it seemed 

 possible for us to cross, he would come down with 

 ropes, trucks, and plenty of boys. 



After a noonday feast of broiled young kongoni, 

 without salt, we set up a stick at the water's edge and 

 timed it with a clock to see how fast the river was 

 falling. One hour's interval showed it had receded 

 nineteen inches; so, in an optimistic mood, I figured 

 we might be able to cross about midnight. I was 

 wrong, for the sky darkened, rain clouds gathered, 

 lightning flashed, and thunder rolled; the resultant 

 flood CEoried away our crude watermark, while the 

 river attained new heights. 



Next morning Major Warwick arrived in his sea- 

 going flivver, inviting us to spend the week-end with 

 him. The water had again receded, being now about 

 fifteen feet deep, but it looked as if it might rain some 

 more and delay our crossing indefinitely, so we planned 

 a rope bridge to span the chasm to get ourselves and 

 the motion-picture material over. One of the major's 

 boys climbed out on an overhanging hmb and swung 

 a light rope to us. With this we pulled a heavy hawser 

 across, which was made fast to staunch trees standing 

 on opposite banks. A canvas shng was rigged up to 

 hang from a pulley and in this improvised breeches 

 buoy we passed load after load across the raging tor- 



