English idea, which is not adapted to him, and is-TO HIM-a

nuisance, or to go it blind, without experience except that
acquired in a temperateclimate, which is dangerous. I am not

going to copy out the English list again, even for comparison. I
have not the space; and if curious enough, you can find it in any

book on modern African travel. Of course I realize well that few
Americans go to Africa; but I also realize well that the

sportsman is a crank, a wild and eager enthusiast over items of
equipmentanywhere. He-and I am thinking emphatically of

him-would avidly devour the details of the proper outfit for the
gentle art of hunting the totallyextinct whiffenpoof.

Let us begin, first of all, with:
Personal Equipment Clothes. On the top of your head you must have

a sun helmet. Get it of cork, not of pith. The latter has a habit
of melting unobtrusively about your ears when it rains. A helmet

in brush is the next noisiest thing to a circus band, so it is
always well to have, also, a double terai. This is not something

to eat. It is a wide felt hat, and then another wide felt hat on
top of that. The vertical-rays-of-the-tropical-sun (pronounced

as one word to save time after you have heard and said it a
thousand times) are supposed to get tangled and lost somewhere

between the two hats. It is not, however, a good contraption to
go in all day when the sun is strong.

As underwear you want the lightest Jaeger wool. Doesn't sound
well for tropics, but it is an essential. You will sweat enough

anyway, even if you get down to a brass wire costume like the
natives. It is when you stop in the shade, or the breeze, or the

dusk of evening, that the trouble comes. A chill means trouble,
SURE. Two extra suits are all you want. There is no earthly sense

in bringing more. Your tent boy washes them out whenever he can
lay hands on them-it is one of his harmless manias.

Your shirt should be of the thinnest brown flannel. Leather the
shoulders, and part way down the upper arm, with chamois. This is

to protect your precious garment against the thorns when you dive
through them. On the back you have buttons sewed wherewith to

attach a spine pad. Before I went to Africa I searched eagerly
for information or illustration of a spine pad. I guessed what it

must be for, and to an extent what it must be like, but all
writers maintained a conservative reticence as to the thing

itself. Here is the first authorized description. A spine pad is
a quilted affair in consistency like the things you are supposed

to lift hot flat-irons with. On the outside it is brown flannel,
like the shirt; on the inside it is a gaudy orange colour. The

latter is not for aesthetic effect, but to intercept actinic
rays. It is eight or ten inches wide, is shaped to button close

up under your collar, and extends halfway down your back. In
addition it is well to wear a silk handkerchief around the neck;

as the spine and back of the head seem to be the most vulnerable
to the sun.

For breeches, suit yourself as to material. It will have to be
very tough, and of fast colour. The best cut is the

"semi-riding," loose at the knees, which should be well faced
with soft leather, both for crawling, and to save the cloth in

grass and low brush. One pair ought to last four months, roughly
speaking. You will find a thin pair of ordinary khaki trousers

very comfortable as a change for wear about camp. In passing I
would call your attention to "shorts." Shorts are loose, bobbed

off khaki breeches, like knee drawers. With them are worn puttees
or leather leggings, and low boots. The knees are bare. They are

much affected by young Englishmen. I observed them carefully at
every opportunity, and my private opinion is that man has rarely

managed to invent as idiotically unfitted a contraption for the
purpose in hand. In a country teeming with poisonousinsects,

ticks, fever-bearing mosquitoes; in a country where vegetation is
unusually well armed with thorns, spines and hooks, mostly

poisonous; in a country where, oftener than in any other a man is
called upon to get down on his hands and knees and crawl a few

assorted abrading miles, it would seem an obvious necessity to
protect one's bare skin as much as possible. The only reason

given for these astonishinggarments is that they are cooler and
freer to walk in. That I can believe. But they allow ticks and

other insects to crawl up, mosquitoes to bite, thorns to tear,
and assorted troubles to enter. And I can vouch by experience

that ordinary breeches are not uncomfortably hot or tight.
Indeed, one does not get especially hot in the legs anyway. I

noticed that none of the old-time hunters like Cuninghame or Judd
wore shorts. The real reason is not that they are cool, but that

they are picturesque. Common belief to the contrary, your average
practical, matter-of-fact Englishman loves to dress up. I knew

one engaged in farming-picturesque farming-in our own West, who
used to appear at afternoon tea in a clean suit of blue overalls!

It is a harmlessamusement. Our own youths do it, also,
substituting chaps for shorts, perhaps. I am not criticising the

spirit in them; but merely trying to keep mistaken shorts off
you.

For leg gear I found that nothing could beat our American
combination of high-laced boots and heavy knit socks. Leather

leggings are noisy, and the rolled puttees hot and binding. Have
your boots ten or twelve inches high, with a flap to buckle over

the tie of the laces, with soles of the mercury-impregnated
leather called "elk hide," and with small Hungarian hobs. Your

tent boy will grease these every day with "dubbin," of which you
want a good supply. It is not my intention to offer free

advertisements generally, but I wore one pair of boots all the
time I was in Africa, through wet, heat, and long, long walking.

They were in good condition when I gave them away finally, and
had not started a stitch. They were made by that excellent

craftsman, A. A. Cutter, of Eau Claire, Wis., and he deserves and
is entirely welcome to this puff. Needless to remark, I have

received no especial favours from Mr. Cutter.
Six pairs of woollen socks, knit by hand, if possible-will be

enough. For evening, when you come in, I know nothing better than
a pair of very high moosehide moccasins. They should, however, be

provided with thin soles against the stray thorn, and should
reach well above the ankle by way of defence against the fever

mosquito. That festiveinsect carries on a surreptitious
guerrilla warfare low down. The English "mosquito boot" is simply

an affair like a riding boot, made of suede leather, with thin
soles. It is most comfortable. My objection is that it is

unsubstantial and goes to pieces in a very brief time even under
ordinary evening wear about camp.

You will also want a coat. In American camping I have always
maintained the coat is a uselessgarment. There one does his own

work to a large extent. When at work or travel the coat is in the
way. When in camp the sweater or buckskin shirt is handier, and

more easily carried. In Africa, however, where the other fellow
does most of the work, a coat is often very handy. Do not make

the mistake of getting an unlined light-weight garment. When you
want it at all, you want it warm and substantial. Stick on all

the pockets possible, and have them button securely.
For wet weather there is nothing to equal a long and voluminous

cape. Straps crossing the chest and around the waist permit one
to throw it off the shoulders to shoot. It covers the hands, the

rifle-most of the little horses or mules one gets out there.
One can sleep in or on it, and it is a most effectivegarment

against heavy winds. One suit of pajamas is enough, considering
your tent boy's commendable mania for laundry work. Add

handkerchiefs and you are fixed.
You will wear most of the above, and put what remains in your

"officer's box." This is a thin steel, air-tight affair with a
wooden bottom, and is the ticket for African work.

Sporting. Pick out your guns to suit yourself. You want a light
one and a heavy one.

When I came to send out my ammunition, I was forced again to take
the other fellow's experience. I was told by everybody that I