THE END OF THE TRAIL 281 



the cool of the evening. A fire, too, without soot or 

 much smoke, because the only wood in the forest was 

 hard and gave out a most comforting warmth and 

 color — yellow, often turning to driftwood blue. 

 Seated there in the evenings, it almost seemed as if 

 that civilization which we had tried to escape had 

 caught up with us again. 



I think the Brays had a good time during the two 

 weeks they were with us. Certainly they had a 

 glimpse of kaleidoscopic African life. They got 

 mixed up in a rhino charge; a large herd of ele- 

 phants raided our garden while they were guests; 

 and it was diiring their visit that the incident I 

 have already related occurred, when one of our 

 boys had a fit, jtunped into a big campfire, and 

 was btimed so badly that he had lockjaw and died. 

 Unfortimately Mr. Bray fell into a hole early in his 

 visit and sprained his ankle so badly that he had to 

 be sent to Nairobi for medical attendance. On the 

 day of his return my head man came to me and in- 

 formed me that one of my boys, a Boran herder, 

 seemingly in perfect health had walked off into the 

 forest in the middle of the afternoon when he should 

 have been at work. He was foimd the next morning 

 dead, with no marks of violence on his body. To 

 this day we haven't the slightest idea how he died. 



Two particularly distressing incidents happened 

 in our last year that really have no place in a tale of 



