ir seats in front. Now everything was changed. At one
moment they would pass a group of giraffe, running in their ungainly
fashion to one side; hartebeests, impalla and other varieties of
antelope were everywhere, gazing in fearless fashion at the train. Herds
of zebra came into sight, while through the trees scampered monkeys in
endless variety.

"They know they're safe, all right," chuckled Charlie, as a herd of
beautiful little gazelles stopped a dozen yards away to stare in mild
wonder. "Funny how animals get to know where they're protected."

"It's the same in the Yellowstone," said von Hofe. "Within the limits
they are almost tame, but across the line--pouf! and they are gone."

The wonderful journey, like no other in the world, was ended at last,
however, and they puffed past Lake Nakuro to the village station. Here
their trip was ended, their baggage was rolled off, and they were taken
in charge by a young subaltern, Lieutenant Smithers, together with the
Boer merchant, Piet Andrus. The latter offered them the hospitality of
his trading store, which they gratefully accepted.

"Now to business," said the General that night after dinner.
"Lieutenant, what would be your advice as to porters? I'd like to get
off in the morning, if possible."

"The usual way," laughed Smithers, "is to take Swahilis, but you seem to
be an unusual party. Since you are going to take wagons from here, I
would suggest that you load everything into the wagons and trek north to
Jan Botha's ranch. There you can pick up a score or two of Masai. They
are an offshoot of the old Zulu stock--brave as lions, faithful enough,
and able to provide for themselves. This safari business is largely
bally rot, to my mind."

"Bully for you!" cried Charlie in delight, while the others laughed
heartily.

"According to law," said Smithers, "you'll have to provide tents for the
porters. But the Masai would laugh at such things, and this will save
you a good deal of carriage. How about horses?"

"They are in the compound," said Miers, the local agent of Andrus' firm.
"I have two good wagons and a dozen 'salted' oxen, specially selected.
This gives you six to a wagon, and even if you lose four of the beasts,
the other eight will do the work. Better to have too many than too few."

Von Hofe nodded, thoroughly satisfied. By 'salted,' the trader meant
that the animals had been through the sickness caused by the bite of the
tsetse fly, and were henceforth