actory for the group, and also the calf killed by his son, Kermit.
This left one young bull and two large bulls still to be secured, and to
that end we addressed our efforts during the succeeding weeks.

For nine days we hunted the Nzoia River region, but without seeing an
elephant. There were kongoni, zebra, topi, waterbuck, wart-hogs,
reedbuck, oribi, eland, and Uganda cob, but scour the country as we
would, we saw no sign of elephant except the broad trails in the grass
and the countless evidences that they had been in the region some time
before. The country was beautiful and wholesome. There was lots of game
for our table, from the most delicious grouse to the oribi, whose meat
is the tenderest I have ever eaten. There were ducks and geese and
Kavirondo crane; and sometimes eland, as fine in flavor as that of the
prize steer of the fat-stock show. Then there were reedbuck and cob,
both of which are very good to eat. So our tins of camp pie and kippered
herring and ox tongue remained unopened and we lived as we never had
before.

When the day's hunt was over the sun in a splendid effort painted such
sublime sunsets above Mount Elgon as I had never dreamed of. And the
music of hundreds of African birds along the river's edge greeted us
with the cool, delightful dawn. Purely from an aesthetic standpoint, our
days on the Nzoia were ones never to be forgotten, while from the
standpoint of the man who loves to see wild game and doesn't care much
about killing it, the bright, clear days on the Nzoia were memorable
ones. The Roosevelt party went its way back to civilization; the
Spaniards, De la Huerta and the Duke of Penaranda, came and made a
flying trip up the mountain for elephant, then returned and went their
way. The young Baron Rothschild came on to the plateau for a couple of
weeks and then disappeared. And still we lingered on, happy, healthy,
generally hungry, and intoxicated with the languorous murmur of Africa.

[Drawing: _With Sharp Stakes in Them_]

Then we marched for the mountain on our big elephant hunt. The details
of those twelve days of adventuring in districts, some of which were
probably never traversed before by white men, our experiences with the
natives, our climb up the side of the mountain and our camp in the
crater; our icy mornings, our ascent of the highest peak, and our
explorations of the ancient homes of the cave-dwellers--all are part of
a remarkable series of events that have nothing t