XX 



DIVERS ADVENTURES ALONG THE TANA 



LATE one afternoon I shot a wart-hog in the tall 

 J grass. The beast was an unusually fine speci- 

 men, so I instructed Fundi and the porters to take 

 the head, and myself started for camp with Memba 

 Sasa. I had gone not over a hundred yards when I 

 was recalled by wild and agonized appeals of: 

 "Bwana! bwanal" The long-legged Fundi was 

 repeatedly leaping straight up in the air to an 

 astonishing height above the long grass, curling his 

 legs up under him at each jump, and yelling like a 

 steam-engine. Returning promptly, I found that 

 the wart-hog had come to life at the first prick of the 

 knife. He was engaged in charging back and forth 

 in an earnest effort to tusk Fundi, and the latter was 

 jumping high In an equally earnest effort to keep out 

 of the way. Fortunately he proved agile enough to 

 do so until I planted another bullet in the aggressor. 

 These wart-hogs are most comical brutes from 

 whatever angle one views them. They have a 

 patriarchal, self-satisfied, suburban manner of com- 



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