112 
ON SAFARI 
A cup of black coffee in bed at the hour named, 
with breakfast twenty minutes later, enables this 
essential to be fulfilled. 
The whole joy and glory of the tropical day are 
confined to its earlier hours. That is the time when 
the world of the wilderness is amove, when its beauties 
and infinite variety of forms can be seen and appreci¬ 
ated to the best advantage. Later, when the whole 
landscape is drenched in a brazen sun-glare that bites 
like the breath of a furnace, but little, by comparison, 
will be seen, and exertion becomes well-nigh impossible. 
white-browed coucAL, or bush-cuckoo ( Centropus superciliosus). 
Crown of head and tail dark ; upper parts chestnut. 
From the darkness without, as one sips that early 
coffee, there resound the bubbling notes of bush-cuckoo 
and nightjar; the last wail of the laughing hyena, 
possibly the roar of a distant lion, precede the dawn. 
Following these, but ere yet a sign of light is apparent, 
a chorus of infinite doves awakes the day—“ Chuck-her- 
up, chuck-her-up,” in endless iteration. “ Chock-taw, 
chock-taw,” responds another species. Then the 
whistling call-notes of francolins and the harsher cackle 
of guinea-fowl resound from the bush on every side. 
Already one is out and away, brushing through dew¬ 
laden grass that soaks to the waist. What matter that, 
