Our way led over a succession of low rolling ridges each higher than its predecessor.  Game herds fed in the shallow valleys between.  At about ten o’clock we came to the foot of the Mau Escarpment, and also to the unexpected sight of the wagon outspanned.  N’gombe Brown explained to us that the oxen had refused to proceed farther in face of a number of lions that came around to sniff at them.  Then the rain had come on, and he had been unwilling to attempt the Mau while the footing was slippery.  This sounded reasonable; in fact, it was still reasonable.  The grass was here fairly neck high, and we found a rain-filled water-hole.  Therefore we decided to make camp.  C. and I wandered out in search of game.  We tramped a great deal of bold, rugged country, both in canon bottoms and along the open ridges, but found only a rhinoceros, one bush-buck and a dozen hartebeeste.  African game, as a general rule, avoids a country where the grass grows very high.  We enjoyed, however, some bold and wonderful mountain scenery, and obtained glimpses through the flying murk of the vast plains and the base of Suswa.  On a precipitous canon cliff we found a hanging garden of cactus and of looped cactus-like vines that was a marvel to behold.  We ran across the hartebeeste on our way home.  Our men were already out of meat; the hartebeeste of yesterday had disappeared.  These porters are a good deal like the old-fashioned Michigan lumberjacks—­they take a good deal of feeding for the first few days.  When we came upon the little herd in the neck-high grass, I took a shot.  At the report the animal went down flat.  We wandered over slowly.  Memba Sasa whetted his knife and walked up.  Thereupon Mr. Hartebeeste jumped to his feet, flirted his tail gaily, and departed.  We followed him a mile or so, but he got stronger and gayer every moment, until at last he frisked out of the landscape quite strong and hearty.  In all my African experience I lost only six animals hit by bullets, as I took infinite pains and any amount of time to hunt down wounded beasts.  This animal was, I think, “creased” by too high a shot.  Certainly he was not much injured; but certainly he got a big shock to start with.

The little herd had gone on.  I got down and crawled on hands and knees in the thick grass.  It was slow work, and I had to travel by landmarks.  When I finally reckoned I had about reached the proper place, I stood up suddenly, my rifle at ready.  So dense was the cover and so still the air that I had actually crawled right into the middle of the band!  While we were cutting up the meat the sun broke through strongly.

Therefore the wagon started on up the Mau at six o’clock.  Twelve hours later we followed.  The fine drizzle had set in again.  We were very glad the wagon had taken advantage of the brief dry time.