An African Shooting Trip 



we were, in the dry season. Every move was 

 regulated by the wells ; and one realizes how 

 precious water really is when he sees men 

 almost fighting for its possession at a water 

 hole, or, as in one place, where natives built 

 fires to keep the elephants from coming down 

 at night and drinking up what little there was 

 At one of the wells we passed, where water 

 was very scarce, we found a few men and 

 camels belonging to an Englishman, who was 

 camped far away in a dry district. The 

 camels were hung about with water-harns or 

 carriers, and the small detachment had been 

 sent down to fill them and relieve the camp. 

 The natives owning the wells at first posi- 

 tively refused to part with any of the precious 

 fluid. My head man, Adan, here showed his 

 intimate knowledge of his countrymen. He 

 talked persuasively and joked with them, while 

 gently stroking the gray beard of the oldest 

 inhabitant, and in half an hour had won the 

 prized permission. Our metal casks, though 

 rather large and clumsy, kept the water sweet, 

 and were much more serviceable than the 

 ordinary wooden barrels, which, when empty 

 and well baked in the sun, are apt to shrink 

 and go to pieces. 



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