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The Land of Footprints-Part28_Stewart Edward White(1873-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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finally in a low broken range many miles away called the Ithanga

Hills. The country gave one the impression of being clothed with



small trees; although here and there this growth gave space to

wide grassy plains. Later we discovered that the forest was more



apparent than real. The small trees, even where continuous, were

sparse enough to permit free walking in all directions, and open



enough to allow clear sight for a hundred yards or so.

Furthermore, the shallow wide valleys between the hills were



almost invariably treeless and grown to very high thick grass.

Thus the course of the Tana possessed advantages to such as we.



By following in general the course of the stream we were always

certain of wood and water. The river itself was full of fish-not



to speak of hundreds of crocodiles and hippopotamuses. The thick

river jungle gave cover to such animals as the bushbuck, leopard,



the beautiful colobus, some of the tiny antelope, waterbuck,

buffalo and rhinoceros. Among the thorn and acacia trees of the



hillsides one was certain of impalla, eland, diks-diks, and

giraffes. In the grass bottoms were lions, rhinoceroses, a half



dozen varieties of buck, and thousands and thousands of game

birds such as guinea fowl and grouse. On the plains fed zebra,



hartebeeste, wart-hog, ostriches, and several species of the

smaller antelope. As a sportsman's paradise this region would be



hard to beat.

We were now afoot. The dreaded tsetse fly abounded here, and we



had sent our horses in via Fort Hall. F. had accompanied them,

and hoped to rejoin us in a few days or weeks with tougher and



less valuable mules. Pending his return we moved on leisurely,

camping long at one spot, marching short days, searching the



country far and near for the special trophies of which we stood

in need.



It was great fun. Generally we hunted each in his own direction

and according to his own ideas. The jungle along the river, while



not the most prolific in trophies, was by all odds the most

interesting. It was very dense, very hot, and very shady. Often a



thorn thicket would fling itself from the hills right across to

the water's edge, absolutely and hopelessly impenetrable save by



way of the rhinoceros tracks. Along these then we would slip,

bent double, very quietly and gingerly, keeping a sharp lookout



for the rightful owners of the trail. Again we would wander among

lofty trees through the tops of which the sun flickered on



festooned serpentlike vines. Every once in a while we managed a

glimpse of the sullen oily river through the dense leaf screen on



its banks. The water looked thick as syrup, of a deadly menacing

green. Sometimes we saw a loathsomecrocodile lying with his nose



just out of water, or heard the snorting blow of a hippopotamus

coming up for air. Then the thicket forced us inland again. We



stepped very slowly, very alertly, our ears cocked for the

faintest sound, our eyes roving. Generally, of course, the



creatures of the jungle saw us first. We became aware of them by

a crash or a rustling or a scamper. Then we stood stock listening



with all our ears for some sound distinguishing to the species. Thus I

came to recognize the queer barking note of the bushbuck, for



example, and to realize how profane and vulgar that and the beautiful

creature, the impalla, can be when he forgets himself. As for the



rhinoceros, he does not care how much noise he makes, nor how

badly he scares you.



Personally, I liked very well to circle out in the more open

country until about three o'clock, then to enter the river jungle



and work my way slowly back toward camp. At that time of day the

shadows were lengthening, the birds and animals were beginning to



stir about. In the cooling nether world of shadow we slipped

silently from thicket to thicket, from tree to tree; and the



jungle people fled from us, or withdrew, or gazed curiously, or

cursed us as their dispositions varied.



While thus returning one evening I saw my first colobus. He was

swinging rapidly from one tree to another, his long black and



white fur shining against the sun. I wanted him very much, and

promptly let drive at him with the 405 Winchester. I always



carried this heavier weapon in the dense jungle. Of course I




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