A FORCED MARCH. 5 i 
but a little white chemise, a roll of cloth round his waist, 
and a turban on his head, with my spare helmet perched 
on the top. He carried my gun, rifle, cartridge-bag, 
field-glasses, and other odds and ends, and I must 
admit he proved a capital walker, and by a comical 
wriggling action managed to escape getting scratched 
by the thorns. 
At about 6 a.m. the features of the bush changed 
slightly, and the soil became of a more vivid red colour. 
I noticed a new kind of thorn with very dark green 
leaves resembling those of the laburnum. We here 
came upon a number of animal tracks, and 13 - 
luckily shot another small gazelle, otherwise we should 
have had nothing to eat for breakfast. At 7.45 we 
arrived at the next watering-place, but only to find 
enough muddy fluid to fill a bucket or two; so after a 
rest of one and a half hours, we pushed on to Maungu, 
about thirteen miles farther. This was by far the worst 
part of the whole journey, as it was getting intensely 
hot, and the path was steep and difficult to find in its 
windings in the dense bush. At last Maungu was 
reached, after a march of about fifty-three miles in thirty 
hours, the last thirty-eight miles being accomplished 
in twelve hours, including the halt for breakfast. 
On arriving at the camping-ground, it was necessary 
to send our guide to the top of the hill for water, a 
matter of half-an-hour’s steep climb. The first men 
with loads came in about 2 p.m., and, wonderful to 
relate, nearly eighty arrived in the course of the day ; 
the remainder, unable to find the track owing to dark- 
