he multitudinous pictures that the word Africa
bids rise in my memory, four stand out more distinctly than the
others. Strangely enough, these are by no means all pictures of average
country-the sort of thing one would describe as typical. Perhaps, in a
way, they symbolize more the spirit of the country to me, for certainly
they represent but a small minority of its infinitely varied aspects.
But since we must make a start somewhere, and since for some reason
these four crowd most insistently in the recollection it might be well
to begin with them.

Our camp was pitched under a single large mimosa tree near the edge of
a deep and narrow ravine down which a stream flowed. A semicircle of low
mountains hemmed us in at the distance of several miles. The other side
of the semicircle was occupied by the upthrow of a low rise blocking
off an horizon at its nearest point but a few hundred yards away. Trees
marked the course of the stream; low scattered bushes alternated with
open plain. The grass grew high. We had to cut it out to make camp.

Nothing indicated that we were otherwise situated than in a very
pleasant, rather wide grass valley in the embrace of the mountains. Only
a walk of a few hundred yards atop the upthrow of the low rise revealed
the fact that it was in reality the lip of a bench, and that beyond
it the country fell away in sheer cliffs whose ultimate drop was some
fifteen hundred feet. One could sit atop and dangle his feet over
unguessed abysses.

For a week we had been hunting for greater kudu. Each day Memba Sasa and
I went in one direction, while Mavrouki and Kongoni took another line.
We looked carefully for signs, but found none fresher than the month
before. Plenty of other game made the country interesting; but we were
after a shy and valuable prize, so dared not shoot lesser things. At
last, at the end of the week, Mavrouki came in with a tale of eight
lions seen in the low scrub across the stream. The kudu business was
about finished, as far as this place went, so we decided to take a look
for the lions.

We ate by lantern and at the first light were ready to start. But at
that moment, across the slope of the rim a few hundred yards away,
appeared a small group of sing-sing. These are a beautiful big beast,
with widespread horns, proud and wonderful, like Landseer's stags, and
I wanted one of them very much. So I took the Springfield, and dropped
behind the line of some bushes. The stalk was o