The Lions of Lake Edward 



him, and the two of them swaying there hke a couple of 

 vultures on a windshaken branch, put the little tree to such 

 a severe test that it gave way under the strain, precipitating 

 the two clinging braves, rifles and all, into the grass below. 

 After this they selected separate trees and arranged to fire 

 simultaneously. Whether it was the swaying tree tops, 

 or the long range, or the excitement, I do not know, but 

 their selected victim appeared to lumber off unharmed after 

 the fusillade, the herd settling down to feed again unconcernedly 

 a mile or so farther on. Thinking to give Fourget a hand 

 to bag his buffalo, I left my camera behind and took him 

 with me up to the herd which now stood in the open. How- 

 ever, as there were no trees handy he would not shoot, so 

 leaving him in disgust I returned to camp. 



Three more days having sped pleasantly away in this 

 camp, we considered it time to be moving on to the wild 

 shores of Lake Edward itself where we were to meet our 

 boat. Before going on to a description of this remote water 

 and its interesting fauna, I must say just one word in praise 

 of an unknown " feathered friend " that never missed paying 

 us a call each morning at early dawn. This little grey fellow 

 of the Reed Warbler type had to my mind the most alluring 

 and entrancing series of liquid whispering notes it is possible 

 to conceive. They were so beautiful and of such sweetness 

 that I shall never forget the little Lake Edward bird that, 

 for a few minutes each morning, favoured the camp with 

 his tiny song as if he knew we loved to hear it. I feel quite 

 sure he missed the slumbering camp the morning after our 

 departure, and went off to his breakfast with a sad heart. 



From this camp to the little bay that confronts the fishing 

 village of Siko Moyo proved to be a good six hours' trek, 



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