NORTH-WESTERN RHODESIA 29 



added yet one more magnificent trophy to 

 the bag. This latter head I presented to the 

 Bulawayo Museum. 



As bearing on the important question of tsetse 

 fly and the alleged dependence of the fly on big 

 game, and particularly on the buffalo, it will 

 doubtless be of interest to mention that whilst 

 hunting this great herd of buffalo near Mwom- 

 boshi I saw only two tsetse flies in five days; 

 whereas twenty miles to the west of Mwomboshi 

 and at a lower altitude, where no traces of buffalo 

 were to be observed, I found tsetse painfully 

 plentiful. 



Every one in this world has his own particular 

 and peculiar tastes, his own fairest scenes, his 

 own most beautiful pictures. A merry supper 

 party at the Savoy may represent one man's 

 acme of bliss, to sit on some high-perched 

 pinnacle and watch the Atlantic breakers hurled 

 on to a rock-bound coast may be another's. 

 But there surely cannot be a more grand or 

 sublime thing in this world than the break of 

 day over some wild yet inexpressibly lovely spot 

 in the by-paths of Central Africa, where all is 

 true and natural, as Creation intended things to 

 be, as free from artificiality as was the Garden 

 of Eden. 



Picture to yourself such a scene. It is dawn. 

 Across the eastern sky shafts of yellow light are 

 brightening the sombre night shroud of the 

 heavens, and as each shaft gains in that soft 

 glow which heralds the morning, the twinkling 

 stars become less and less distinct, the trees take 

 on forms out of the disappearing dusk, the mounds 

 and ant-heaps loom up like small mountains, the 

 night-birds cease their callings, and the first 

 twitterings of the day commence. Cold and damp 



