later by George, who made some almost unintelligible remark about "he could stand a good deal, but that—— and, shuddering visibly, he too vanished.

I threw the remains of the cigar into the river, where it probably continued its nefarious career, doubtless doing a lot of harm. George, with a lofty disregard of my feelings, euphoniously christened them stinkers," and neither he nor El Hakim could ever be persuaded to smoke one.

I got hardened to them in time, but I only smoked them on special occasions or in default of anything better. I used to smoke them after George and I had turned in for the night. It did not matter whether George was asleep or not; after the first half-dozen puffs he would turn over in his blankets, and, giving vent to a resigned and massive sigh, get up, and, uttering no word the while, he would with great ostentation and an unnecessary amount of noise, open the tent-flaps at each end, thus letting a fierce draught through. He would then go back to bed again, and shiver violently with the cold, and cough pathetic little coughs, till in sheer self-defence I would discontinue smoking and close the tent, but I would have my revenge in the morning while we were dressing, as I would then relight the end left from over-night. George said the smell took away his appetite for breakfast, but that must have been mere vulgar prejudice, as I never noticed anything wrong with his appetite.

We were off again next morning, and in two hours reached the Thika-Thika, the next considerable river on our route. It was the inhabitants of the country adjacent to this river about whom we were warned in Nairobi; but, in consequence of our détour north-eastward to Doenyo

Sabuk, we struck the river much lower down than the presumably hostile districts.

It was a rather narrow but deep stream, full of water, with a very swift and powerful current. We could not find a crossing-place, so we tried to bridge the stream at the cataracts which we discovered lower down, at which place the channel narrowed to something like twenty yards. There was a large tree standing on the bank, and we cut it down in the hope that it would fall across the river. It was a long and tiresome task, and somehow the tree fell the wrong way; so we thought we would not built a bridge, after all. We then went higher up the river, and at one place found two dead logs, which we lashed together to form a raft. The raft completed, we called for a volunteer to take the line across. As Asmani ben Selim was a good swimmer, we ordered him to volunteer. He did so, and got the line across without accident. He then hauled the raft across with another line attached, by which we were enabled to haul it back again, and then, having satisfactorily demonstrated the practicability of our idea, we adjourned for lunch.

After the meal we went down to the river again, and amused ourselves all the afternoon by pulling the raft to and fro across the river with two loads on at a time. We had all the loads safely across by five o'clock in the afternoon, and then proceeded to get the men across by the same means. Some of them had not sense enough to sit still, and on three separate occasions they managed to upset the unstable craft in midstream, and were hauled across clinging to the overturned raft, feeling very miserable indeed, which feeling was in no way alleviated by the gibes of their more fortunate companions who had got across without accident.

It was dark by the time the last man had crossed, and the animals were still on the wrong side of the river. We accordingly camped on the bank, and sent a guard of three men back again to look after them during the night.

At daylight next morning we proceeded to get the animals across by the simple expedient of tying one end of the rope round their necks, when a team of a dozen men on the opposite bank of the river soon hauled them, kicking and struggling, across. I admit that they made the passage for the most part under water; but still, there was no other way, and the objections of the animals themselves, though very strenuous, did not count for much.

That business concluded, we struck camp and continued our march. We followed no road, and, being without a guide, we travelled by compass in a north-easterly direction. By so doing we hoped to strike the upper waters of the Tana River at Maranga. We saw great numbers of antelope on the road, and there were also numerous herds of zebra and brindled gnu (Connochactus taurinus). We were in want of meat, but the game was very shy, and while stalking a herd of zebra I had the ill luck to startle them somehow, and they went off at a gallop. I took a long shot -200 yards-at the leader of the herd, and, as luck would have it, brought him down.

We went on till 10 a.m., when we halted for breakfast, and did ourselves very well on grilled zebra liver. We made a "Telekesa" march (i.e. a march resumed after a short halt for refreshment), usually necessary in localities where water is scarce and water-holes long distances apart― so by soon after mid-day we were on the move again.

The country was now getting very nasty. We could see low ranges of steep hills ahead that promised to be

very inconvenient. At dusk we ascended the outlying spurs, finding it very hard work, and soon after we camped for the night. I shot a congoni during the afternoon, which kept us in fresh meat for a day or two. That the estimate we had formed of the natural difficulties to be encountered was a correct one, we had many opportunities of verifying during the next two days. It was a perfectly horrible piece of country. It seemed to be a collection of rocky hills thrown down just anyhow, without the slightest regard for order. Long coarse grass and rank vegetation did their very best to impede our progress. We were retarded every half mile or so by steep descents, down which we toiled slowly and painfully, only to find a roaring rushing torrent at the bottom, that needed the most careful negotiation. Our poor donkeys suffered very much by the constant loading and unloading of their burdens, rendered necessary in order to cross some particularly obnoxious ravine, while the men's patience was severely tried.

In the early morning it was still worse, as the dense undergrowth was then soaked through with the heavy dew, which descended on us in icy showers as we forced our way through, thus adding to our other miseries. There was no game to speak of. I shot one solitary congoni at our first camp in this uninhabited wilderness, and on the same day we inadvertently walked on to a sleeping rhinoceros, which livened things up a little.

El Hakim was riding at the head of the safari, and George, on the other mule, was close behind him. I was walking a few yards behind George. Suddenly I saw El Hakim stiffen in his seat and kick his feet free of the stirrup-irons; a fraction of a second later he was out of the saddle and behind a bush, while George emulated his

example with a promptitude that could only have been rendered possible by the most urgent necessity, George being, as a rule, extremely deliberate in his movements, as befits a heavy man. At the same instant, with a rush and a snort, a large black rhinoceros galloped blindly at us. I took up an unobtrusive position behind an adjacent tree, with as little delay as possible consistent with my dignity, and the rhinoceros rushed past and disappeared. It appeared annoyed at being disturbed.

On the afternoon of the third day after leaving the Thika-Thika we got into some very dense scrub, and fairly lost ourselves. The bush was absolutely impenetrable, except for the low tunnels made by wandering hippopotamus, which indicated the presence of water not far off. These tunnels gave the scrub the appearance of a gigantic rabbitwarren, in which we had to walk bent double in order to make any headway at all. It was exceedingly hot and dusty, and we plunged about in the bewildering maze of tunnels till we were tired out, while seemingly no nearer to the opposite side. Presently the tunnel in which we were burrowing at the moment abruptly dipped downwards, and a few yards further on we emerged unexpectedly on the edge of a broad and noble river, which flowed swiftly and serenely past our delighted eyes.

We had no doubt that this was the Tana which we had not expected to reach for another day at least; a surmise which proved to be correct. It is called here the Sagana, or more rarely the Kilaluma (i.e. firewater). It is a very beautiful river, with very high perpendicular banks clothed in the most lovely verdure. Tall water-palms (Raffia sp.?) reared their stately heads far above the surrounding luxuriant vegetation; while tropical trees of many species formed