ON AN EAST AFRICAN RANCH 



39 



cattle country I knew so well. As my horse shuffled forward, 

 under the bright, hot sunlight, across the endless flats or 

 gently rolling slopes of brown and withered grass, I might 

 have been on the plains anywhere, from Texas to Montana; 

 the hills were like our Western buttes; the half-dry water- 



sir Alfred, Lady, and Miss Pease, on ranch steps with rhino and lion 



skulls and lion skins 

 From a photograph by Kerinit Roosevelt 



courses were fringed with trees, just as if they had been 

 the Sandy, or the Dry, or the Beaver, or the Cottonwood, 

 or any of the multitude of creeks that repeat these and 

 similar names, again and again, from the Panhandle to the 

 Saskatchewan. Moreover a Westerner, far better than an 

 Easterner, could see the possibilities of the country. There 

 should be storage reservoirs in the hills and along the rivers 



