eautifully wooded, park-like
country, and on looking back out of the carriage windows we could every
now and again obtain lovely views of Mombasa and Kilindini, while
beyond these the Indian Ocean sparkled in the glorious sunshine as far
as the eye could see. The summit of the Rabai Hills having been
reached, we entered on the expanse of the Taru Desert, a wilderness
covered with poor scrub and stunted trees, and carpeted in the dry
season with a layer of fine red dust. This dust is of a most
penetrating character, and finds its way into everything in the
carriage as the train passes along. From here onward game is more or
less plentiful, but the animals are very difficult to see owing to the
thick undergrowth in which they hide themselves. We managed, however,
to catch sight of a few from the carriage windows, and also noticed
some of the natives, the Wa Nyika, or "children of the wilderness."
At Maungu, some eighty miles from the coast, we came to the end of this
"desert," but almost the only difference to be noticed in the character
of the country was that the colour of the dust had changed. As our
train sped onwards through the level uplands we saw a fine ostrich
striding along parallel with the line, as if having a race with us. Dr.
McCulloch at once seized his rifle and by a lucky shot brought down the
huge bird; the next and greater difficulty, however, was to secure the
prize. For a time the engine-driver took no notice of our signals and
shouts, but at last we succeeded in attracting his attention, and the
train was shunted back to where the ostrich had fallen. We found it to
be an exceptionally fine specimen, and had to exert all our strength to
drag it on board the train.
Soon after this we reached Voi, about a hundred miles from the coast,
and as this was the most important station on the line that we had yet
come to, we made a short halt in order to inspect some construction
work which was going on. On resuming our journey, we soon discovered
that a pleasant change had occurred in the character of the landscape.
From a place called N'dii, the railway runs for some miles through a
beautifully wooded country, which looked all the more inviting after
the deadly monotony of the wilderness through which we had just passed.
To the south of us could be seen the N'dii range of mountains, the
dwelling-place of the Wa Taita people, while on our right rose the
rigid brow of the N'dungu Escarpment, which stretches a
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