THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS 



his dainty legs tense, his sensitive ears pointed toward 

 the direction of disturbance. 



And now, along the face of the cliff, I began to 

 make out the flashing of much movement, half 

 glimpsed through the bushes. Soon a fine old-man 

 baboon, his tail arched after the dandified fashion of 

 the baboon aristocracy, stepped out, looked around, 

 and bounded forward. Other old men followed him, 

 and then the young men, and a miscellaneous lot of 

 half-grown youngsters. The ladies brought up the 

 rear, with the babies. These rode their mothers' 

 backs, clinging desperately while they leaped along, 

 for all the world like the pathetic monkey "jockeys" 

 one sees strapped to the backs of big dogs in circuses. 

 When they had approached to within fifty yards, I 

 remarked "hullo!" to them. Instantly they all 

 stopped. Those in front stood up on their hind 

 legs; those behind clambered to points of vantage 

 on rocks and the tops of small bushes. They all 

 took a good long look at me. Then they told me 

 what they thought about me personally, the fact of 

 my. being there, and the rude way I had startled 

 them. Their remarks were neither complimentary 

 nor refined. The old men, in especial, got quite 

 profane, and screamed excited billingsgate. Finally 

 they all stopped at once, dropped on all fours, and 

 loped away, their ridiculous long tails curved in a 



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