262 THE LAND OF THE LION 



by Laikipia Boma for eighty miles, to its junction with 

 the main stream of that beautiful river. 



Two short marches from Gilgil bring you to the foot 

 of the Aberdare, a rocky wall fifteen miles long, on the 

 south end 2,000 feet high, on the north, 200. Down its 

 front tumble fifteen waterfalls, some taking the steep at 

 one bound, others falling sheer a hundred feet and then 

 in cascades often hidden by dense brushwood come flashing 

 out again into the sun, to fall tumbling to the plain. 



That grim rocky wall, scored with little mountain 

 torrents tossing themselves at one bound, or tumbling 

 all brokenly down its great steep, is one of the finest things 

 in East Africa. 



The level country beneath spreads out into swamp 

 land, and in its long wilderness of marsh plants, mud 

 banks and secluded lagoons, at the highest elevation in 

 the world, are found large herds of hippo. When his 

 haunt is near cultivated land the hippo is an unmitigated 

 nuisance. He will devour and trample down in one night 

 what has taken an unfortunate native months of labour. 

 His nocturnal habits make him difficult to destroy. On 

 the Athi and Tana rivers, where I shot them, they do 

 great harm. The river hippo's tusk is seldom worth 

 taking; he sinks when shot and so, unless you have the 

 luck to find him on a sand bank, the crocodiles get him. 



These Embellossett hippo, however, are very large 

 indeed, and carry fine tusks. They are so well off in 

 their marshes that they seldom come to shore, and a 

 collapsible boat would be necessary in order to do anything 

 with them. 



While we camped by the marsh we saw no signs of 

 the big beasts landing. I saw them on sunny evenings, 

 floating lazily along, the great bulk of the shoulder making 

 them look like upturned boats, or steadily swimming to 

 keep some aquatic appointment, only showing above the 



