ON AN EAST AFRICAN RANCH fi:s 



wallis Harris and Gordon Gumming, in the palmy times 

 of the giant fauna of South Africa. On Pease's own farm 

 one day I passed through scores of herds of the beautiful 

 and wonderful wild creatures I have spoken of above; all 

 told there were several thousands of them. With the ex- 

 ception of the wildebeest, most of them were not shy, and I 

 could have taken scores of shots at a distance of a couple of 

 hundred yards or thereabout. Of course, I did not shoot 

 at anything unless we were out of meat or needed the skin 

 for the collection; and when we took the skin we almost 

 always took the meat too, for the porters, although they 

 had their rations of rice, depended for much of their well- 

 being on our success with the rifle. 



These rides through the wild, lonely country, with only 

 my silent black followers, had a peculiar charm. When 

 the sky was overcast it was cool and pleasant, for it is a high 

 country; as soon as the sun appeared the vertical tropic 

 rays made the air quiver above the scorched land. As we 

 passed down a hill-side we brushed through aromatic shrubs 

 and the hot pleasant fragrance enveloped us. When we came 

 to a nearly dry watercourse, there would be beds of rushes, 

 beautiful lilies and lush green plants with staring flowers; 

 and great deep-green fig-trees, or flat-topped mimosas. In 

 many of these trees there were sure to be native beehives; 

 these were sections of hollow logs hung from the branches; 

 they formed striking and characteristic features of the land- 

 scape. Wherever there was any moisture there were flow- 

 ers, brilliant of hue and many of them sweet of smell; and 

 birds of numerous kinds abounded. When we left the hills 

 and the wooded watercourses we might ride hour after 

 hour across the barren desolation of the flats, while herds 

 of zebra and hartebeest stared at us through the heat haze. 

 Then the zebra, with shrill, barking neighs, would file off 

 across the horizon, or the high-withered hartebeests, snort- 

 ing and bucking, would rush off in a confused mass, as 

 unreasoning panic succeeded foolish confidence. If I shot 

 anything, vultures of several kinds, and the tall, hideous 



