CHAPTER XI 
FROM EL BOGOI TO LAKE RUDOLPH 
A trying march—A Swahili yarn—Shoot an uncommon^gazelle—The “high veldt” 
—A jackal claims relationship—A curious episode—Thomson’s gazelle and 
Jackson’s hartebeeste—My “lucky camp”—A new branch of obstetrics—A 
land flowing with honey—My ivory store—A welcome sight—Disturbing a 
siesta—A gardener’s opportunity—Death of a favourite—A photographer’s 
disguise—Our route to Lake Rudolph—A providential escape. 
On 9th October I climbed the range, accompanied by Baithai 
and two Ndorobo youths, and of course my usual little party 
of nine or ten men carrying my hunting equipment. We had 
a terribly trying march. Baithai took us straight up the 
almost precipitous mountain side, where there was no track of 
any sort. After struggling through dense thickets at the base, 
we found the lower part of the ascent covered with a thick low 
growth of brushwood, very disagreeable to get through, and 
above that the dry grass was as slippery as ice. This on such 
an excessively steep gradient made the long climb a most 
arduous and trying one in the broiling heat. When, at last, 
the pleasant cool shade of the forest was reached on the 
summit, the relief was unspeakable, after the fierce glare of the 
burning sun on the steep hillside to which we had been 
exposed all the morning while laboriously mounting step by 
step some 3000 feet. Once on the top, our hard work was 
over. We could walk with comfort among the stems of tall 
trees, there being but little undergrowth except in the valleys, 
and had a welcome rest by a little stream (the head of El 
