The Land of Footprints | Page 5

time sink
his ego and exhibit frankly his personality. The paradox in this is only
apparent. He must forget either to strut or to blush with diffidence.
Neither audience should be forgotten, and neither should be exclusively
addressed. Never should he lose sight of the wholesome fact that old
hunters are to read and to weigh; never should he for a moment slip
into the belief that he is justified in addressing the expert alone. His
attitude should be that many men know more and have done more than
he, but that for one reason or another these men are not ready to
transmit their knowledge and experience.
To set down the formulation of an ideal is one thing: to fulfil it is
another. In the following pages I cannot claim a fulfilment, but only an
attempt. The foregoing dissertation must be considered not as a
promise, but as an explanation. No one knows better than I how limited
my African experience is, both in time and extent, bounded as it is by
East Equatorial Africa and a year. Hundreds of men are better qualified
than myself to write just this book; but unfortunately they will not do it.
II. AFRICA
In looking back on the multitudinous pictures that the word Africa bids
rise in my memory, four stand out more distinctly than the others.
Strangely enough, these are by no means all pictures of average
country-the sort of thing one would describe as typical. Perhaps, in a
way, they symbolize more the spirit of the country to me, for certainly
they represent but a small minority of its infinitely varied aspects. But
since we must make a start somewhere, and since for some reason these
four crowd most insistently in the recollection it might be well to begin
with them.
Our camp was pitched under a single large mimosa tree near the edge
of a deep and narrow ravine down which a stream flowed. A semicircle
of low mountains hemmed us in at the distance of several miles. The
other side of the semicircle was occupied by the upthrow of a low rise
blocking off an horizon at its nearest point but a few hundred yards
away. Trees marked the course of the stream; low scattered bushes
alternated with open plain. The grass grew high. We had to cut it out to
make camp.

Nothing indicated that we were otherwise situated than in a very
pleasant, rather wide grass valley in the embrace of the mountains.
Only a walk of a few hundred yards atop the upthrow of the low rise
revealed the fact that it was in reality the lip of a bench, and that
beyond it the country fell away in sheer cliffs whose ultimate drop was
some fifteen hundred feet. One could sit atop and dangle his feet over
unguessed abysses.
For a week we had been hunting for greater kudu. Each day Memba
Sasa and I went in one direction, while Mavrouki and Kongoni took
another line. We looked carefully for signs, but found none fresher than
the month before. Plenty of other game made the country interesting;
but we were after a shy and valuable prize, so dared not shoot lesser
things. At last, at the end of the week, Mavrouki came in with a tale of
eight lions seen in the low scrub across the stream. The kudu business
was about finished, as far as this place went, so we decided to take a
look for the lions.
We ate by lantern and at the first light were ready to start. But at that
moment, across the slope of the rim a few hundred yards away,
appeared a small group of sing-sing. These are a beautiful big beast,
with widespread horns, proud and wonderful, like Landseer's stags, and
I wanted one of them very much. So I took the Springfield, and
dropped behind the line of some bushes. The stalk was of the ordinary
sort. One has to remain behind cover, to keep down wind, to make no
quick movements. Sometimes this takes considerable manoeuvring;
especially, as now, in the case of a small band fairly well scattered out
for feeding. Often after one has succeeded in placing them all safely
behind the scattered cover, a straggler will step out into view. Then the
hunter must stop short, must slowly, oh very, very slowly, sink down
out of sight; so slowly, in fact, that he must not seem to move, but
rather to melt imperceptibly away. Then he must take up his progress at
a lower plane of elevation. Perhaps he needs merely to stoop; or he may
crawl on hands and knees; or he may lie flat and hitch himself forward
by his toes, pushing his gun ahead. If one of the beasts