196 
ON SAFARI 
poor show of fighting, and were promptly reduced to 
submission. 
So far this enterprise had not resulted in a single 
shot being fired. There yet remained the one great 
resource on which we still relied, to wit, the full moon. 
On returning to Kishobo, we arranged this last desperate 
effort—whole-night attacks on the buffalo by moonlight. 
We each separately took 
light tents, with a couple 
of “boys” and a minimum 
of necessaries, and each en¬ 
camped alone in gloomy 
forest-corners that com¬ 
manded conveniently adja¬ 
cent “ opens.” 
While pitching my lonely 
forest-camp that afternoon, 
I noticed close by a curious, 
sombre-liued small bird with 
tufted bushy head and long 
black tail edged with white, 
that was quite unknown to 
A TINY WOODPECKER. 
Olive-green above, grey below, 
occiput bright crimson. 
me. Some tiny woodpeckers shared my grove, and a 
pair of barbets formed a study in bright hues—gold and 
crimson, set off by jetty black. Less welcome neigh¬ 
bours were huge millipedes, black and chestnut, with 
vicious-looking jaws. But there was no time to consider 
minor evils. 
Confidence was not lacking, and hopes ran high ; 
but, alas for this venture, heavy rains now’ set in, and 
each night purple-black clouds overcast the moon. Our 
trusted auxiliary failed. Both had similar experience. 
Within an hour of sundown that first evening we ran 
right into the buffalo close by—not fifty yards away, in 
the open. But nothing even then was visible, and the 
beasts stampeded, snorting, in the dark. My own diary 
that night records : “ Lighter rains later, but still inky 
dark. Could see nothing, so returned to camp at ten, 
and had a pint of Giesler(!). At 2 a.m., thick, overcast 
