62 SAFARI 



had migrated from the forests with the big rains. 

 But it was always safe to trust Boculy. 



He did not speak but waved us on, leading the way 

 with his peculiar crablike shambling gait up more 

 dongas and through the brush. Every now and 

 then he would stop like a pointer dog, bend down, 

 pick up a piece of mud, examine it, and shake his 

 head in affirmative or negative. If the evidence 

 of the trail seemed to be satisfactory, he would 

 examine the earth for a few yards roundabout, then 

 pick up the trail again. 



What he saw we could not see. Sometimes, so he 

 afterwards explained it to me, the mud dropped from 

 a hoof would tell part of the tale, for rhino, elephants, 

 and buffalo choose different kinds of mud for their 

 baths. Sometimes he could tell that particles of 

 mud had come out of the crevices between the toes 

 of temho; again the bending of blades of grass, crushed 

 leaves, and so on, would betray not only the kind 

 of game but the direction it had taken and its 

 goal. 



Further, the condition of the bruised blades of 

 grass to him was eloquent. It takes only three hours 

 for trodden grass to spring up again ; he could tell the 

 time of passage by the angle. Finally, knowing 

 the locale and the beasts' habits and rate of speed, he 

 would predict the very spot where we would find the 

 herd. 



