224 THE LAND OF THE LION 



easier. But time was precious, potio short, and little or no 

 game in the country. So regretfully we had to turn back. 

 One could not but admire these tall young fellows, so much 

 alike in figure that they might all have been the sons of one 

 mother. They were as different as could be from our 

 sturdier Wanyamwazi porters, very slimly made in the hips, 

 with beautifully formed legs, good travellers, but poorly 

 built for field work or burden bearing. Their narrow shields 

 tipped with ostrich feathers were made of elephant or 

 giraffe hide and were very tough. Their long, well-balanced 

 and very narrow-headed spears were highly prized by them. 

 I had difficulty in securing two. They carried on the left 

 hand an iron hook, about two and a half inches across, 

 and fixed to the third finger by a ring. They used this 

 charming instrument, they told us, for gouging out their 

 enemies' eyes. They had neither bows nor swords and did 

 not know how to make poison. They are great game trap- 

 pers, using snares, not pits, and judging by the rarity of all 

 game in this region, they have trapped only too successfully. 

 They say they can trap the elephant, using rope nooses 

 which are fastened to a fallen tree as a clog. Our old 

 N'dorobo confirmed this extraordinary piece of information 

 by saying he had once found such an elephant's snare, all 

 torn to pieces by an elephant which had been noosed and 

 broken loose. I found a piece of an old kongoni snare 

 which, for patient construction and clever adaptability, 

 shows rare ingenuity. It must have been set in some such 

 way as this: A rawhide noose has evidently been laid over 

 some slight hollow on a kongoni run or under one of the 

 shade trees the animals frequent at midday. If the kongoni 

 stepped into the noose and sank his leg through it into the 

 dip beneath, he might easily kick out of the noose. So this 

 circlet of thorns has been very ingeniously made and is 

 placed beneath the slip-knot of the snare. This clings to the 

 animal's leg, and holds the slip-knot in place, the thorny 



