WILD LIFE ACROSS THE WORLD 



Colonel downwards, was most kind to me — the 

 hospitality and courtesy of the American Army are 

 things which one can never forget — and I received 

 all the assistance possible. My kit having arrived, 

 together with my guide, I started out late one 

 afternoon. At first it was not very pleasant travelling. 

 Our route lay along the main road, which was 

 extremely dry, and we kept meeting coaches, with 

 the result that we were literally choked with dust. 

 The scenery was remarkably fine, with a rugged 

 grandeur all its own. We passed through the Golden 

 Gate, then climbed up to what seemed at first to be 

 the top of the mountain, though when we reached 

 our camping-ground there was still Electric Peak, 

 the snow-clad summit of which is twelve thousand 

 feet above sea-level, towering over us. 



One dark night, whilst groping our way back to 

 camp, my guide, Dick Randall, a former coach-driver, 

 who had spent altogether over thirty years of his life 

 in and around the Park and knew it well, besides being 

 himself a great hunter and the owner of a neighbouring 

 ranch, remarked casually that it would be as well to 

 strike a match or two when we got near our tents. 

 Naturally I inquired the reason, and was told, in the 

 most matter-of-fact manner, that whilst we were away 

 some of the local bears had very likely strolled down 

 to investigate our camp, and that if we stumbled on 

 them in the darkness we should be liable to get a 



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