alla, and giraffe, with the likelihood of seeing in addition some
wart-hogs and a distant rhinoceros, and the remote possibility of seeing
cheetah, lion, and hyena. Of the bird varieties the traveler will be
sure of seeing many ostriches, some giant bustards, and perhaps a sedate
secretary-bird or two.

[Photograph: Hassan and a Hartebeest]

[Photograph: The Author's Home in Africa]

[Photograph: Beautiful Upland Country]

These animals are the common varieties, and after a short time in the
country the stranger learns to tell them apart. He knows the zebra from
his previous observation in circuses; he also does not have to be told
what the giraffe is, but the other ones of the seven common varieties he
must learn, for most of them are utterly strange to an American eye.

[Drawing: _Gazelle, with Wildebeest in Background_]

He soon learns to pick out the wildebeest, or gnu, by its American
buffalo appearance; he comes to know the little Thompson's gazelle by
its big black stripe on its white sides and by its frisky tail that is
always flirting back and forth. The Grant's gazelle is a little harder
to pick out at first, and one is likely to get the Grant's and Tommy's
confused. But after a short time the difference is apparent, the Grant's
being much larger in stature and has much larger horns and is minus the
Thompsonian perpetual motion tail. It certainly is a stirring tail! The
impalla is about the same size as the Grant's gazelle, but has horns of
a lyrate shape.

The hartebeest is speedily identified, because he is unlike any other
antelope in appearance and exists in such large numbers in nearly every
part of East Africa. Indeed, if a returned traveler were asked what
animal is most typical of the country he would at once name the
hartebeest. He sees it so much and so often that after a time it seems
to be only a necessary fixture in the landscape. A horizon without a few
hartebeests on it would seem to be lacking in completeness.

Furthermore, the stranger soon learns that the hartebeest is commonly
called by its native name, kongoni, and by the time his shooting trip is
over the sight of the ubiquitous kongoni has become as much of his daily
experience as the sight of his tent or his breakfast table. To me the
kongoni appealed most strongly because of his droll appearance and
because of a many-sided character that stirs one's imagination.

He is big and awkward in appearance and action; his face is long