BIG LANJORA. 
97 
direction, so, as we wanted meat, I thought it best to 
wait. It was a very pretty sight to see these graceful 
animals gliding smoothly over the ground with stately 
step, pausing here and there to pick the tit-bits off the 
tops of the highest bushes. No creatures are more 
graceful than giraffe in their slow paces, but directly 
they break into a gallop their action becomes most 
ungainly. This herd had fed to within about 150 
yards of me, when I heard a gun-shot, some distance 
to my right, which I suppose came from H-. As 
the giraffe seemed startled by the sound, I was afraid 
to wait any longer, and fired with my 450° express 
at the point of the shoulder of the nearest beast. 
I heard the thud of the bullet, hut it could not have 
broken the shoulder, as, though the wounded animal 
lagged behind the rest, I was unable to get up to him. 
Probably the best place to aim is high up at the point 
where the neck joins the body, for anywhere else, in 
my experience, they take a lot of shooting. 
As it was now getting late I sought our camp, 
which I found ready pitched at big Lanjora, half-a- 
mile off the main track, and practically safe from the 
Masai who only come here in the event of the water- 
supply of little Lanjora being dried up. A capital 
spring of pure water here rises from the rocks, and 
forms lower down a succession of large pools, where, 
judging from the numerous tracks leading up to 
them, many animals come down to drink. Our 
camp occupied a little hollow, shaded by big mimosas, 
and had a very snug appearance with its hedge of 
