cality on a raiding expedition and had succeeded in finding water. I
asked if the place was far away, and got the reply in Swahili "M'bali
kidogo" ("A little distance"). Now, I had had experience of M'bali
kidogo before; it is like the Irishman's "mile and a bit." So I decided
to start very early next morning on a search for this pond--for such my
informant described it to be. In the meantime the poor fellow, who
appeared starving--there was a sore famine among the natives of the
district at the time--was given food and drink, and made a ravenous
meal. In the evening I had a long talk with him in broken Swahili round
the camp fire, and obtained some insight into many of the strange and
barbarous customs of the Masai, to which interesting tribe he belonged.

In the morning I started off betimes, taking my .303 rifle and being
accompanied by Mahina with the 12-bore shot-gun, and by another Indian
carrying the necessary food and water. Our Masai guide, whose name we
found to be Lungow, seemed to be quite certain of his way, and led us
across the rolling plains more or less in the direction in which the
railway was to run, but some miles to the right of its centre-line. The
march was full of interest, for on the way we passed within easy range
of herds of wildebeeste, hartebeeste, gazelle, and zebra. I was out
strictly on business, however, and did not attempt a shot, reserving
that pleasure for the homeward trip. Late in the forenoon we arrived at
Lungow's pond--a circular dip about eighty yards in diameter, which
without doubt had contained water very recently, but which, as I
expected to find, was now quite dry. A considerable number of bones lay
scattered round it, whether of "kills" or of animals which had died of
thirst I could not say. Our guide appeared very much upset when he
found the pond empty, and gave vent to many exclamations in his
peculiar language, in which the letter "r" rolled like a kettledrum.

Our search for water having thus proved a failure, I determined to try
my luck with the game. The Masai and the Indian were sent back to camp,
while Mahina and I made a big detour from the dried-up water-hole. Game
abounded in all directions, but the animals were much more shy than
they had been in the morning, and it was in vain that I stalked--if it
can be called "stalking," when as a matter of fact one has to move in
the open--splendid specimens of Thomson's and Grant's gazelle. I might
have attempted a shot