A BUFFALO-HUNT BY THE KAMITI 143 
us. They gazed at us for quite a time, and then walked 
slowly in our direction for at least a couple of hundred yards. 
For a moment I was even doubtful whether they did not in¬ 
tend to come toward us and charge. But it was only cu¬ 
riosity on their part, and after having gazed their fill, they 
sauntered back to the swamp and disappeared. There 
was no chance to get at them, and moreover darkness was 
rapidly falling. 
Next morning we broke camp. The porters, strapping 
grown-up children that they were, felt as much pleasure 
and excitement over breaking camp after a few days’ rest 
as over reaching camp after a fifteen-mile march. On this 
occasion, after they had made up their loads, they danced 
in a ring for half an hour, two tin cans being beaten as 
tomtoms. Then off they strode in a long line with their 
burdens, following one another in Indian file, each greet¬ 
ing me with a smile and a deep ‘‘Yambo, Bwana!” as 
he passed. I had grown attached to them, and of course 
especially to my tent boys, gun-bearers, and saises, who quite 
touched me by their evident pleasure in coming to see me 
and greet me if I happened to be away from them for two 
or three days. 
Kermit and I rode off with Heatley to pass the night at 
his house. This was at the other end of his farm, in a 
totally different kind of country, a country of wooded hills, 
with glades and dells and long green grass in the valleys. 
It did not in the least resemble what one would naturally 
expect in equatorial Africa. On the contrary it reminded 
me of the beautiful rolling wooded country of middle Wis¬ 
consin. But of course everything was really different. There 
were monkeys and leopards in the forests, and we saw 
