CHAPTER VIII 



ELEPHANT 



I HAVE been for days struggling through swamps, cor- 

 duroying little streams that seem easy to cross, till you 

 try to cross them. Then they swallow the mules and don- 

 keys, swallow them down; and donkeys must come along 

 somehow, for donkeys mean "potio." Two fine mountain 

 ranges looked down on our strivings from the east and the 

 west, while far away to the northward, where the early 

 morning air was clear, stood out the tender blue outline of 

 an unknown, or rather, unmapped mountain chain, rising 

 above the Turquell River that falls into far-away Lake 

 Rudolph. 



The exact whereabouts of my camping I may not, in 

 fairness to my guide,* disclose. His patient and persever- 

 ing study of the country, and of the ways and wander- 

 ings of the great elephant herds, should be as much his 

 perquisite as are my ivories when I have shot them. "The 

 way in" cannot long remain unknown; but I certainly shall 

 not "give it away/* and I am confident no sportsman will 

 expect me to. 



Mr. Hoey and I had worked quite conscientiously for 

 elephants since we had arranged our partnership; had 

 turned from no spoor that was at all promising, till all 

 reasonable chance of coming up with our game was gone. 

 So long as elephant are not thoroughly alarmed, or have 

 not had your wind, or smelt the sefari, it is well worth while 

 to follow on and keep following, even if the trail when you 



*On this my last sefari to the Nzoia country, I had secured the services of A. C. Hoey (Eldama 

 Ravine) as I wished to know the natives of the Cherangang range, and also to ride lion. I could not 

 possibly have found a better man. 



I8 5 



