my prowess in shikar: probably, indeed, this was the
reason why he stuck so close to me throughout the hunt.

We breakfasted by candle light and managed to get several miles on our
way towards the source of the Athi before dawn. As soon as it was
thoroughly daylight, we extended in line, Dr. Brock, as the guest,
being placed in the most likely position for a shot, while Roshan Khan
followed close behind me with the day's provisions. In this order we
trudged steadily forward for a couple of miles without coming across
anything, though we advanced through many patches of rushes and long
grass likely to conceal our expected quarry. It was most interesting
and exciting work all the same, as we never knew but that a lion might
the next moment jump up at our very feet. We had just beaten through a
most hopeful-looking covert without success and had come out on to a
beautiful open grassy glade which stretched away for some distance
ahead of us, when I noticed a big herd of wildebeeste browsing quietly
some distance to our right. I knew that Brock also wanted a
wildebeeste, so I whistled softly to him, and pointed out the
weird-looking, bison-like antelopes. He came across at once and started
off towards the herd, while I sat down to watch the proceedings. He
made a beautiful stalk, which was rendered really very difficult by the
open nature of the country, but still the wildebeeste quickly noticed
his approach and kept steadily moving on, until at last they
disappeared over one of the gentle rises which are such a feature of
the Athi Plains.

I still sat and waited, expecting every moment to hear the sound of
Brock's rifle. Some time elapsed without a shot, however, and I was
just about to follow him up and find out how things were going, when
Roshan Khan suddenly exclaimed excitedly:--"Dekko, Sahib, shenzi ata
hain!" ("Look, Sahib, the savages are coming!"). I was not in the least
alarmed at this somewhat startling announcement, as the Indians called
all the natives of the interior of Africa shenzi, or savages; and on
looking round I saw five tall, slim Masai approaching in Indian file,
each carrying a six-foot spear in his right hand. On coming nearer, the
leader of the party eagerly asked in Swahili, "What does the Bwana
Makubwa ("Great Master") desire?"

"Simba" ("Lions"), said I.

"Come," he replied, "I will show you many."

This filled me with interest at once. "How far away are they?" I asked.

"M'bali kidogo" ("