238 
ON SAFARI 
Simba means “ Lion ”), as the following extract, in the 
breezy colonial journalism of the Globe Trotter (June 6, 
1906), will serve to show— 
“ The lions of East Africa appear to be watching 
the progress of civilisation with deep interest, and 
nothing has done more to arouse their curiosity than 
the trains on the Uganda railway. The railway from 
the Indian Ocean to Victoria Nyanza is 584 miles long, 
and between the terminal points are thirty-nine stations. 
The line is managed on the system of the Indian 
railways, and most of the men in the track, train and 
station service are East Indians. The Indian station- 
agent is known as a babu, and he leads a lonesome life. 
Simba, for example, where the lions have been making a 
special study of the railway station, has only a station 
building, a water-tank for the engines, and a siding, this 
being one of the places where trains pass each other on 
the single-track road. 
“ The trouble began at Simba eleven months ago— 
in July 1905—when the traffic-manager at Nairobi one 
morning received this astonishing telegram from the 
babu at Simba— 
“ ‘ A lion has been bothering me for three nights. 
He comes up on the station platform and goes to sleep. 
Then he walks up and clown, scratches on the wall and 
door, and tries to get into the office. Please send 
cartridges for a Snider rifle by the first train for my 
protection. I have blank cartridges, but they are of no 
use against lions.’ 
“ This profound observation has the ear-mark of sober 
truth. Whether the lion desired to buy a ticket or 
whether a fellow-feeling for the lonesome babu induced 
him to try to cultivate his acquaintance is not known, 
but it is quite certain that blank cartridges were not 
appropriate ammunition, and that bullets were in 
demand. 
“It is to be supposed that these were promptly sup- 
