thing over and over until he thinks you surely cannot

misunderstand. One chap especially whom we called the lawyer
bird, and who lived in the treetops, had four phrases to impart.

He said them very deliberately, with due pause between each; then
he repeated them rapidly; finally he said them all over again

with an exasperated bearing-down emphasis. The joke of it is I
cannot now remember just how they went! Another feathered

pedagogue was continuallywarning us to go slow; very good advice
near an African jungle. "Poley-poley! Poley-poley!" he warned

again and again; which is good Swahili for "slowly! slowly!" We
always minded him. There were many others, equally impressed with

their own wisdom, but the one I remember with most amusement was
a dilatory person who apparently never got around to his job

until near sunset. Evidently he had contracted to deliver just so
many warnings per diem; and invariably he got so busy chasing

insects, enjoying the sun, gossiping with a friend and generally
footling about that the late afternoon caught him unawares with

never a chirp accomplished. So he sat in a bush and said his say
over and over just as fast as he could without pause for breath

or recreation. It was really quite a feat. Just at dusk, after
two hours of gabbling, he would reach the end of his contracted

number. With final relieved chirp he ended.
It has been said that African birds are "songless." This is a

careless statement that can easily be read to mean that African
birds are silent. The writerevidently must have had in mind as a

criterion some of our own or the English great feathered
soloists. Certainly the African jungle seems to produce no

individual performers as sustained as our own bob-o-link, our
hermit thrush, or even our common robin. But the African birds

are vocal enough, for all that. Some of them have a richness and
depth of timbre perhaps unequalled elsewhere. Of such is the

chime-bird with his deep double note; or the bell-bird tolling
like a cathedral in the blackness of the forest; or the bottle

bird that apparently pours gurgling liquid gold from a silver
jug. As the jungle is exceedinglypopulous of these feathered

specialists, it follows that the early morning chorus is
wonderful. Africa may not possess the soloists, but its full

orchestrial effects are superb.
Naturally under the equator one expects and demands the "gorgeous

tropical plumage" of the books. He is not disappointed. The
sun-birds of fifty odd species, the brilliant blue starlings, the

various parrots, the variegated hornbills, the widower-birds, and
dozens of others whose names would mean nothing flash here and

there in the shadow and in the open. With them are hundreds of
quiet little bodies just as interesting to one who likes birds.

>From the trees and bushes hang pear-shaped nests plaited
beautifully of long grasses, hard and smooth as hand-made

baskets, the work of the various sorts of weaver-birds. In the
tops of the trees roosted tall marabout storks like dissipated,

hairless old club-men in well-groomed, correct evening dress.
And around camp gathered the swift brown kites. They were robbers

and villains, but we could not hate them. All day long they
sailed back and forth spying sharply. When they thought they saw

their chance, they stooped with edible" target="_blank" title="a.不能相信的；惊人的">incredibleswiftness to seize a
piece of meat. Sometimes they would snatch their prize almost

from the hands of its rightful owner, and would swoop
triumphantlyupward again pursued by polyglot maledictions and a

throwing stick. They were very skilful on their wings. I have
many times seen them, while flying, tear up and devour large

chunks of meat. It seems to my inexperience as an aviator rather
a nice feat to keep your balance while tearing with your beak at

meat held in your talons. Regardless of other landmarks, we
always knew when we were nearing camp, after one of our strolls,

by the gracefully wheeling figures of our kites.
IX. THE FIRST LION

One day we all set out to make our discoveries: F., B., and I with
our gunbearers, Memba Sasa, Mavrouki, and Simba, and ten porters

to bring in the trophies, which we wanted very much, and the
meat, which the men wanted still more. We rode our horses, and

the syces followed. This made quite a field force-nineteen men
all told. Nineteen white men would be exceedinglyunlikely to get

within a liberal half mile of anything; but the native has sneaky
ways.

At first we followed between the river and the low hills, but
when the latter drew back to leave open a broad flat, we followed

their line. At this point they rose to a clifflike headland a
hundred and fifty feet high, flat on top. We decided to

investigate that mesa, both for the possibilities of game, and
for the chance of a view abroad.

The footing was exceedingly noisy and treacherous, for it was
composed of flat, tinkling little stones. Dried-up, skimpy bushes

just higher than our heads made a thin but regular cover. There
seemed not to be a spear of anything edible, yet we caught the

flash of red as a herd of impalla melted away at our rather noisy
approach. Near the foot of the hill we dismounted, with orders to

all the men but the gunbearers to sit down and make themselves
comfortable. Should we need them we could easily either signal or

send word. Then we set ourselves toilsomely to clamber up that
volcanic hill.

It was not particularly easy going, especially as we were trying
to walk quietly. You see, we were about to surmount a skyline.

Surmounting a skyline is always most exciting anywhere, for what
lies beyond is at once revealed as a whole and contains the very

essence of the unknown; but most decidedly is this true in
Africa. That mesa looked flat, and almost anything might be

grazing or browsing there. So we proceeded gingerly, with due
regard to the rolling of the loose rocks or the tinkling of the

little pebbles.
But long before we had reached that alluring skyline we were

halted by the gentle snapping of Mavrouki's fingers. That,
strangely enough, is a sound to which wild animals seem to pay no

attention, and is therefore most useful as a signal. We looked
back. The three gunbearers were staring to the right of our

course. About a hundred yards away, on the steep side hill, and
partly concealed by the brush, stood two rhinoceroses.

They were side by side, apparently dozing. We squatted on our
heels for a consultation.

The obvious thing, as the wind was from them, was to sneak
quietly by, saying nuffin' to nobody. But although we wanted no

more rhino, we very much wanted rhino pictures. A discussion
developed no really good reason why we should not kodak these

especial rhinos-except that there were two of them. So we began
to worm our way quietly through the bushes in their direction.

F. and B. deployed on the flanks, their double-barrelled rifles
ready for instant action. I occupied the middle with that

dangerous weapon the 3A kodak. Memba Sasa followed at my elbow,
holding my big gun.

Now the trouble with modern photography is that it is altogether
too lavish in its depiction of distances. If you do not believe

it, take a picture of a horse at as short a range as twenty-five
yards. That equine will, in the development, have receded to a

respectable middle distance. Therefore it had been agreed that
the advance of the battle line was to cease only when those

rhinoceroses loomed up reasonably large in the finder. I kept
looking into the finder, you may be sure. Nearer and nearer we

crept. The great beasts were evidently basking in the sun. Their
little pig eyes alone gave any sign of life. Otherwise they

exhibited the complete immobility of something done in granite.
Probably no other beast impresses one with quite this quality. I

suppose it is because even the little motions peculiar to other
animals are with the rhinoceros entirely lacking. He is not in

the least of a nervousdisposition, so he does not stamp his feet
nor change his position. It is useless for him to wag his tail;