abundance of flowers, ornamental shrubs, a sundial, and lawns. In

the river bottom land below the bluff is a very extensive
vegetable and fruit garden, with cornfields, and experimental

plantings of rubber, and the like. For the use of the people of
Juja here are raised a great variety and abundance of vegetables,

fruits, and grains.
Juja House, as has been said, stands back a hundred feet from a

bend in the bluffs that permits a view straight up the river
valley. It is surrounded by gardens and trees, and occupies all

one end of the enclosed rectangle. Farther down and perched on
the edge of a bluff, are several pretty little bungalows for the

accommodation of the superintendent and his family, for the
bachelors' mess, for the farm offices and dispensary, and for the

dairy room, the ice-plant and the post-office and telegraph
station. Back of and inland from this row on the edge of the

cliff, and scattered widely in open space, are a large store
stocked with everything on earth, the Somali quarters of low

whitewashed buildings, the cattle corrals, the stables, wild
animal cages, granaries, blacksmith and carpenter shops, wagon

sheds and the like. Outside the enclosure, and a half mile away,
are the conical grass huts that make up the native village. Below

the cliff is a concrete dam, an electric light plant, a pumping
plant and a few details of the sort.

Such is a relief map of Juja proper. Four miles away, and on
another river, is Long Juja, a strictly utilitarian affair where

grow ostriches, cattle, sheep, and various irrigated things in
the bottom land. All the rest of the farm, or estate, or whatever

one would call it, is open plain, with here and there a river
bottom, or a trifle of brush cover. But never enough to constitute

more than an isolated and lonesome patch.
Before leaving London we had received from McMillan earnest

assurances that he kept open house, and that we must take
advantage of his hospitality should we happen his way. Therefore

when one of his white-robed Somalis approached us to inquire
respectfully as to what we wanted for dinner, we yielded weakly

to the temptation and told him. Then we marched us boldly to the
house and took possession.

All around the house ran a veranda, shaded bamboo curtains and
vines, furnished with the luxurious teakwood chairs of the

tropics of which you can so extend the arms as to form two
comfortable and elevated rests for your feet. Horns of various

animals ornamented the walls. A megaphone and a huge terrestrial
telescope on a tripod stood in one corner. Through the latter one

could examine at favourable times the herds of game on the
plains.

And inside-mind you, we were fresh from three months in the
wilderness-we found rugs, pictures, wall paper, a pianola, many

books, baths, beautiful white bedrooms with snowy mosquito
curtains, electric lights, running water, and above all an

atmosphere of homelike comfort. We fell into easy chairs, and
seized books and magazines. The Somalis brought us trays with

iced and fizzy drinks in thin glasses. When the time came we
crossed the veranda in the rear to enter a spacious separate

dining-room. The table was white with napery, glittering with
silver and glass, bright with flowers. We ate leisurely" target="_blank" title="a.从容地，慢慢地">leisurely of a

well-served course dinner, ending with black coffee, shelled
nuts, and candied fruit. Replete and satisfied we strolled back

across the veranda to the main house. F. raised his hand.
"Hark!" he admonished us.

We held still. From the velvet darkness came the hurried petulant
barking of zebra; three hyenas howled.

XXVII. A VISIT AT JUJA
Next day we left all this; and continued our march. About a month

later, however, we encountered McMillan himself in Nairobi. I was
just out from a very hard trip to the coast-Billy not with

me-and wanted nothing so much as a few days' rest. McMillan's
cordiality was not to be denied, however, so the very next day

found us tucking ourselves into a buckboard behind four white
Abyssinian mules. McMillan, some Somalis and Captain Duirs came

along in another similar rig. Our driver was a Hottentot
half-caste from South Africa. He had a flat face, a yellow skin,

a quiet manner, and a competent hand. His name was Michael. At
his feet crouched a small Kikuyu savage, in blanket ear ornaments

and all the fixings, armed with a long lashed whip and raucous
voice. At any given moment he was likely to hop out over the

moving wheel, run forward, bat the off leading mule, and hop back
again, all with the most extraordinary agility. He likewise

hurled what sounded like very opprobrious epithets at such
natives as did not get out the way quickly enough to suit him.

The expression of his face, which was that of a person steeped in
woe, never changed.

We rattled out of Nairobi at a great pace, and swung into the
Fort Hall Road. This famous thoroughfare, one of the three or

four made roads in all East Africa, is about sixty miles long. It
is a strategic necessity but is used by thousands of natives on

their way to see the sights of the great metropolis. As during
the season there is no water for much of the distance, a great

many pay for their curiosity with their lives. The road skirts
the base of the hills, winding in and out of shallow canyons and

about the edges of rounded hills. To the right one can see far
out across the Athi Plains.

We met an almost unbrokensuccession of people. There were long
pack trains of women, quite cheerful, bent over under the weight

of firewood or vegetables, many with babies tucked away in the
folds of their garments; mincing dandified warriors with

poodle-dog hair, skewers in their ears, their jewelery brought to
a high polish a fatuous expression of self-satisfaction on their

faces, carrying each a section of sugarcane which they now used
as a staff but would later devour for lunch; bearers, under

convoy of straight soldierly red-sashed Sudanese, transporting
Government goods; wild-eyed staring shenzis from the forest, with

matted hair and goatskin garments, looking ready to bolt aside at
the slightest alarm; coveys of marvellous and giggling damsels,

their fine-grained skin anointed and shining with red oil, strung
with beads and shells, very coquettish and sure of their feminine

charm; naked small boys marching solemnly" target="_blank" title="ad.严肃地，庄严地">solemnly like their elders;
camel trains from far-off Abyssinia or Somaliland under convoy of

white-clad turbaned grave men of beautiful features; donkey
safaris in charge of dirty degenerate looking East Indians

carrying trade goods to some distant post-all these and many
more, going one way or the other, drew one side, at the sight of

our white faces, to let us pass.
About two o'clock we suddenly turned off from the road,

apparently quite at random, down the long grassy interminable
incline that dipped slowly down and slowly up again over great

distance to form the Athi Plains. Along the road, with its
endless swarm of humanity, we had seen no game, but after a half

mile it began to appear. We encountered herds of zebra, kongoni,
wildebeeste, and "Tommies" standing about or grazing, sometimes

almost within range from the moving buckboard. After a time we
made out the trees and water tower of Juja ahead; and by four

o'clock had turned into the avenue of trees. Our approach had
been seen. Tea was ready, and a great and hospitable table of

bottles, ice, and siphons.
The next morning we inspected the stables, built of stone in a

hollow square, like a fort, with box stalls opening directly into
the courtyard and screened carefully against the deadly flies.

The horses, beautiful creatures, were led forth each by his proud
and anxious syce. We tried them all, and selected our mounts for

the time of our stay. The syces were small black men, lean and
well formed, accustomed to running afoot wherever their charges

went, at walk, lope or gallop. Thus in a day they covered
incredible distances over all sorts of country; but were always