A TRIP TO TAPE IT A. 
221 
eyes of our guides showed by their condition that some 
few hours ago they formed part of living individuals. 
Here I resolved, therefore, to conceal myself after 
dark, with my gun and plenty of ammunition, and my 
imagination pictured with delight scenes after the 
fashion of Gordon Gumming’s tales. The best mode 
of lying in ambush was much disputed. I at first was 
in favour of making a kind of “ skarm,” a low pit just 
deep enough to hold my body, with a fringe of thorny 
branches round it as a cover. But this, for various 
reasons, did not meet with the approval of my men. 
Firstly, we found, on digging just below the soil, that 
water filtered into the pit, which would render it dis¬ 
agreeable to stand or sit in ; and, secondly, it was my 
guide’s opinion that wounded or angry beasts might 
just walk in on top of me. Consequently w r e adopted 
the notion of the Wa-taita, which on the whole was best, 
namely, to construct a platform between the branches 
of the trees overhanging the “ run,” about ten feet 
above it. 
This was carried out toward the end of the after¬ 
noon, and in the evening, having comfortably dined 
and taken my coffee in camp, I took leave of my men, 
and was hoisted up on to the platform, together with 
an 8-bore elephant-gun, a bag of ammunition, a rug, 
matches, a bull’s-eye lantern, and a flask of cold 
coffee. Two Wa-taita mounted neighbouring trees, 
settled down in the forked branches, and we were 
left to commence our night vigil. My camp was only 
a quarter of a mile distant, and I was quite safe from 
any wild beasts except leopards or snakes, neither of 
which were likely to attack me. 
Surely, I thought to myself, there could be no 
pleasanter way of shooting big game than this. Instead 
