THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS 



Africa, I sneaked up to the tree and took a per- 

 functory look. There stood another, providentially 

 absent-minded, zebra! 



We got that one. Everybody was now happy. 

 The boys raced over to the first kill, which soon took 

 its dismembered way toward camp. C. and I care- 

 fully organized our plan of campaign. We fixed in 

 our memories the exact location of each and every 

 bush; we determined compass direction from camp, 

 and any other bearings likely to prove useful in finding 

 so small a spot in the dark. Then we left a boy to 

 keep carrion birds off until sunset; and returned home. 



We were out In the morning before even the first 

 sign of dawn. Billy rode her little mule, C. and I went 

 afoot, Memba Sasa accompanied us because he could 

 see whole lions where even C.'s trained eye could not 

 make out an ear, and the syce went along to take 

 care of the mule. The heavens were ablaze with the 

 thronging stars of the tropics, so we found we could 

 make out the skyline of the distant butte over the 

 rise of the plains. The earth itself was a pool of 

 absolute blackness. We could not see where we 

 were placing our feet, and we were continually bring- 

 ing up suddenly to walk around an unexpected aloe 

 or thornbush. The night was quite still, but every 

 once in a while from the blackness came rustlings, 

 scamperings, low calls, and once or twice the startled 



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