African Game Trails 
3 
A good oryx cow. 
and the “ safari ” ants. These 
safari ants are so called by 
the natives because they go 
on foraging expeditions in 
immense numbers. The big¬ 
headed warriors are able to 
inflict a really painful bite. 
In open spaces, as where 
crossing a path, the column 
makes a little sunken way 
through which it streams un¬ 
interruptedly. Whenever we 
came to such a safari ant col¬ 
umn, in its sunken way, cross¬ 
ing our path, the porter in 
question laid two twigs on 
the ground as a peace-offer¬ 
ing to the ants. He said that 
they were on safari, just as 
we were, and that it was 
wise to propitiate them. 
That evening we camped 
in a glade in the forest. At 
nightfall dozens of the big 
black-and-white hornbill, 
croaking harshly, flew over¬ 
head, their bills giving them 
a curiously top-heavy look. 
They roosted in the trees 
near by. 
Next day we came out on 
the plains, where there was 
no cultivation, and instead 
of the straggling thatch and wattle, un- 
fenced villages of the soil-tilling Kikuyus, 
we found ourselves again among the purely 
pastoral Masai, whose temporary villages 
are arranged in a ring or oval, the cattle 
being each night herded in the middle, 
and the mud-daubed, cow-dung-plastered 
houses so placed that their backs form a 
nearly continuous circular wall, the spaces 
between being choked with thorn bushes. I 
killed a steinbuck, missed a tommy, and at 
three hundred yards hit a Jackson’s harte- 
beeste too far back, and failed in an effort to 
ride it down. 
The day after we were out on plains 
untenanted by human beings, and early in 
the afternoon struck water by which to 
pitch our tents. There was not much 
game, and it was shy; but I thought that I 
could kill enough to keep the camp in meat, 
so I sent back the two Scotchmen and their 
Kikuyus, after having them build a thorn 
boma, or fence, round the camp. One of 
the reasons why the Masai had driven their 
herds and flocks off this plain was because 
a couple of lions had turned man-eaters, 
and had killed a number of men and wom¬ 
en. We saw no sign of lions, and believed 
they had followed the Masai; but there was 
no use in taking needless chances. 
The camp was beside a cold, rapid 
stream, one of the head waters of the Guaso 
Nyero. It was heavily fringed with thorn 
timber. To the east the crags and snow- 
fields of Kenia rose from the slow swell of 
the mountain’s base. It should have been 
the dry season, but there were continual 
heavy rains, which often turned into torren¬ 
tial downpours. In the overcast mornings 
as I rode away from camp, it was as cool as 
if I were riding through the fall weather at 
home; at noon, if the sun came out, straight 
overhead, the heat was blazing; and we 
generally returned to camp at nightfall, 
drenched with the cold rain. The first 
heavy storm, the evening we pitched camp, 
