24 THE LAND OF THE LION 



them at Nairobi rather than at Mombassa, and so save 

 the i railroad fare per man. That is about all he knows. 

 He chooses his agent at Nairobi and seeks advice, says 

 how long he intends to be out and what he wants to get; 

 whether he will ride or walk; live simply, and content 

 himself with a Swahili cook at 30 rupees a month, or 

 luxuriate in a Goanese, and pay him 60 rupees; whether 

 he is determined to go far afield and stay away from the 

 railroad for several months at a time, or make shorter 

 trips moving his sefari by rail from place to place. 



These matters settled, his agents undertake to do the 

 rest, and promise in so many days to have everything ready 

 for a start. There are competent agents at Nairobi and 

 other places, and unless there is a great crush of departing 

 sefaris, they keep their word, and supply good or fairly 

 good men. And so, before he knows it, our traveller has 

 embarked on one of the most interesting undertakings 

 any sane man can engage in, viz., travelling in a country 

 he knows little about, with men about whom he knows 

 nothing whatever men on whom he is absolutely depen- 

 dent, as no traveller is dependent on any one in civilized 

 lands. 



I have sketched without exaggeration the growth 

 and starting of nine sefaris out of ten, and nearly all of 

 them go out and come back without serious friction or 

 disaster. Things are not stolen, lives are not often lost, 

 and this fact alone is an unimpeachable testimony to the 

 faithfulness, endurance, and worth of the despised East 

 African native. 



A man may, and often does, hurry off in this way. 

 He knew nothing when he started of his fellow travellers, 

 and except a name here and there, he knows as much and 

 no more, when the hurry and scurry of collecting indiffer- 

 ent "heads" of as many different varieties of game is over. 

 But I protest this sort of thing is, first, not hunting; second, 



