XVII LIONS ON THE ATHI PLAINS 195 
In the morning I started off betimes, taking my 
‘303 rifle and being accompanied by Mahina with 
the 12-bore shot-gun, and by another Indian carry- 
ing the necessary food and water. Our Masai 
guide, whose name we found to be Lungow, seemed 
to be quite certain of his way, and led us across the 
rolling plains more or less in the direction in which 
the railway was to run, but some miles to the right 
of its centre-line. The march was full of interest, 
for on the way we passed within easy range of herds 
of wildebeeste, hartebeeste, gazelle, and zebra. | 
was out strictly on business, however, and did not 
attempt a shot, reserving that pleasure for the 
homeward trip. Late in the forenoon we arrived at 
Lungow’s pond—a circular dip about eighty yards 
in diameter, which without doubt had contained 
water very recently, but which, as I expected to 
find, was now quite dry. A considerable number of 
bones lay scattered round it, whether of ‘‘kills” or 
of animals which had died of thirst I could not say. 
Our guide appeared very much upset when he found 
the pond empty, and gave vent to many exclama- 
tions in his peculiar language, in which the letter 
“r” rolled like a kettledrum. 
Our search for water having thus proved a failure, 
I determined to try my luck with the game. The 
Masai and the Indian were sent back to camp, 
while Mahina and I made a big detour from the 
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