THE HUNTER'S LIFE 



kind of waistcoat or that kind of tie. The morn- 

 ing coat and silk hat I wore on my last brief 

 visit to England, I flung into the sea in sheer 

 exuberance of spirits, when I left Marseilles, 

 glad to be quit of such costly insanity even a 

 bowler hat is a ludicrous menace to my sense of 

 natural comfort. Alas ! though the pori (forest) is 



LARGE BULL ELEPHANT STANDING IN THE DRY BED OF MBANANGANDU 

 RIVER, AFTERWARDS SHOT BY AUTHOR. 



a place where life is action, it gives a man a great 

 deal of time to think : it focusses his view ; it 

 peels from his mind the trivial veneer of civiliza- 

 tion and leaves him to brood upon the elemental 

 things which lie at the heart ot life. There is 

 also something wistful, tender and infinitely beau- 

 tiful that forms an undercurrent to the magnificent 



