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The Land of Footprints-Part38_Stewart Edward White(1873-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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When the buffalo broke through the screen of brush I dashed after

him, for I thought our only chance of avoiding danger lay in



keeping close track of where that buffalo went. On the other side

the bushes I found a little grassyopening, and then a small but



dense thicket into which the animal had plunged. To my left, C.

was running up, followed closely by Billy, who, with her usual



good sense, had figured out the safest place to be immediately

back of the guns. We came together at the thicket's edge.



The animal's movements could be plainly followed by the sound of

his crashing. We heard him dash away some distance, pause, circle



a bit to the right, and then come rushing back in our direction.

Stooping low we peered into the darkness of the thicket. Suddenly



we saw him, not a dozen yards away. He was still afoot, but very

slow. I dropped the magazine of five shots into him as fast as I



could work the lever. We later found all the bullet-holes in a

spot as big as the palm of your hand. These successive heavy



blows delivered all in the same place were too much for even his

tremendousvitality; and slowly he sank on his side.



XXVI. JUJA

Most people have heard of Juja, the modern dwelling in the heart



of an African wilderness, belonging to our own countryman,

Mr. W. N. McMillan. If most people are as I was before I saw the place,



they have considerablecuriosity and no knowledge of what it is

and how it looks.



We came to Juja at the end of a wide circle that had lasted three

months, and was now bringing us back again toward our starting



point. For five days we had been camped on top a high bluff at

the junction of two rivers. When we moved we dropped down the



bluff, crossed one river, and, after some searching, found our

way up the other bluff. There we were on a vast plain bounded by



mountains thirty miles away. A large white and unexpected sign

told us we were on Juja Farm, and warned us that we should be



careful of our fires in the long grass.

For an hour we plodded slowly along. Herds of zebra and



hartebeeste drew aside before us, dark heavy wildebeeste-the

gnu-stood in groups at a safe distance their heads low, looking



exactly like our vanished bison; ghostlike bands of Thompson's

gazelles glided away with their smooth regular motion. On the



vast and treeless plains single small objects standing above the

general uniformity took an exaggerated value; so that, before it



emerged from the swirling heat mirage, a solitary tree might

easily be mistaken for a group of buildings or a grove. Finally,



however, we raised above the horizon a dark straight clump of

trees. It danced in the mirage, and blurred and changed form, but



it persisted. A strange patch of white kept appearing and

disappearing again. This resolved itself into the side of a



building. A spider-legged water tower appeared above the trees.

Gradually we drew up on these. A bit later we swung to the right



around a close wire fence ten feet high, passed through a gate,

and rode down a long slanting avenue of young trees. Between the



trees were century plants and flowers, and a clipped border ran

before them. The avenue ended before a low white bungalow, with



shady verandas all about it, and vines. A formal flower garden

lay immediately about it, and a very tall flag pole had been



planted in front. A hundred feet away the garden dropped off

steep to one of the deep river canyons.



Two white-robed Somalis appeared on the veranda to inform us that

McMillan was off on safari. Our own boys approaching at this



moment, we thereupon led them past the house, down another long

avenue of trees and flowers, out into an open space with many



buildings at its edges, past extensive stables, and through

another gate to the open plains once more. Here we made camp.



After lunch we went back to explore.

Juja is situated on the top of a high bluff overlooking a river.



In all directions are tremendous grass plains. Donya Sabuk-the

Mountain of Buffaloes-is the only landmark nearer than the dim



mountains beyond the edge of the world, and that is a day's

journey away. A rectangle of possibly forty acres has been



enclosed on three sides by animal-proof wire fence. The fourth

side is the edge of the bluff. Within this enclosure have been



planted many trees, now of good size; a pretty garden with




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