66 ON SAFARI 



After proceeding some miles in a northerly direction, 

 I began to perceive a change in the character of the 

 country, forest and scrub giving place to " elephant- 

 grass." Grass ? Well, when stuff grows to a height of 

 ten or twelve feet in masses so solid and strong that one 

 cannot force a way through it, such plants should have 

 another name than that of the humble greenery of a 

 lawn. For a time I did not realise the full import of 

 the change, but imagined that these giant clumps 

 through which we were seeking a path were merely a 

 casual local phenomenon, and that we should presently 

 get past them. I soon was undeceived. This was 

 "elephant-grass"; it extended for untold leagues, 

 encircling the southern shores of Lake Baringo, and it 

 was rigrht in the midst of such a fastness that our friend 

 the elephant had selected his stronghold. This grass- 

 forest, full ten feet in height, with tassellecl flowering 

 tops towering above that, was absolutely impenetrable 

 to human-kind, save only by following the old tracks of 

 elephant or buffalo, and these in places were almost 

 obliterated. One's progress, moreover, was constantly 

 intercepted by broken-down thorn-trees. How they got 

 there 1 could not surmise, but one had to climb over or 

 squeeze under them, and not a yard could one see in 

 any direction, save only a narrow crevice of sky above, 

 with the broiling sun right overhead. Naturally the 

 naked, affile savages o-ot throusfh this awful stuff far 

 quicker than we could follow ; yet it was absolutely 

 necessary to keep in touch with them — or be lost. 



At length the elephant was reported to be within 

 sight, and by climbing a dead tree (infested by biting 

 ants) I indistinctly descried portions of a vast grey 

 bulk beneath some flat- topped thorns, distant 400 

 yards. Even that last short space gave trouble, 

 for in the depths of that grass-forest we suddenly 

 came on the river Tigerish, a deep, muddy stream, 

 with perpendicular banks like a canal. This, though 

 barely ten yards broad, we had to swim. In the over- 

 hanging bushes colonies of weaver-finches had nests, some 



