A BUFFALO^HUNT BY THE KAMITI 129 
on our right, and below at our feet was a great pool of 
swirling water. Thick foliaged trees, of strange shape 
and festooned with creepers, climbed the sheer sides of the 
ravine. A black-and-white eagle perched in a blasted 
tree-top in front; and the bleached skull of a long-dead 
rhinoceros glimmered white near the brink to one side. 
On another occasion we took our lunch at the foot of 
Rewero Falls. These are not as high as the falls of the 
Nairobi, but they are almost as beautiful. We clambered 
down into the ravine a little distance below and made our 
way toward them, beside the brawling, rock-choked torrent. 
Great trees towered overhead, and among their tops the 
monkeys chattered and screeched. The fall itself was 
broken in two parts like a miniature Niagara, and the 
spray curtain shifted to and fro as the wind blew. 
The lower part of the farm, between the Kamiti and 
Rewero and on both sides of the Nairobi, consisted of 
immense rolling plains, and on these the game swarmed in 
almost incredible numbers. There were Grant’s and 
Thomson’s gazelles, of which we shot one or two for the 
table. There was a small herd of blue wildebeest, and 
among them one unusually large bull with an unusually 
fine head; Kermit finally killed him. There were plenty 
of wart-hogs, which were to be found feeding right out in 
the open, both in the morning and the evening. One day 
Kermit got a really noteworthy sow with tusks much longer 
than those of the average boar. He ran into her on horse¬ 
back after a sharp chase of a mile or two, and shot her 
from the saddle as he galloped nearly alongside, holding 
his rifle as the old buffalo-runners used to hold theirs, 
that is, not bringing it to his shoulder. I killed two or three 
