finest examples known to us of the northern variety of this strange creature, a species which extends from east to west far over the northern part of Central Africa, with the exception of Somaliland, where These animals are striking a species of peculiar color is found.

objects when they are beheld, as is often the case, standing on the tops of some of the numerous ant-hills of this country and keenly surveying the region surrounding. Poised thus like a sentinel on a mound, a giraffe stands rigidly erect, scarcely moving his head; so that, with his short body and long, tapering neck, he looks not unlike an unbranched tree trunk which has been struck by lightning or scorched by a forest fire.

The giraffes are by no means alone in this well peopled country, which looks like a vast zoological garden with its tenants uncaged. Here at times may be seen herds of huge elephants, tramping massively along, though as a rule the elephant prefers the forest to the open plain. The same may be said of the rhinoceros, which is apt to haunt the thick bush, though it is not uncommon to meet it on the plain.

These are the big game, visible afar off. Nearer at hand many smaller animals are to be seen. These include herds of zebras, striped black and white, mingled with hartebeests with their coats of redgold hue. The elk-like eland, a forest-loving creature, may occasionally be seen; and many other antelopes, including the wildebeest, otherwise known as the gnoo or horned horse; the reedbuck, quietly browsing or bounding at great speed; the dainty sable antelope or damiliscus; the noble waterbuck, with wide-branching antlers decorating the males, and herds of graceful gazelles.

Other creatures of less attractive mould are the dirt-colored, uncouth wart-hog, the slinking and snapping jackal, the repulsive hyena, and perhaps at intervals the maned lion and spotted leopard lurking in search of prey on the skirts of the browsing herds. In fact, the spectacle visible from this elevated point of view is one of most remarkable character, Africa standing alone in its great variety of strange and attractive animal forms.

Nairobi, the capital of British East Africa, and a place frequently visited by Roosevelt during his African trip, lies at the foot of wooded

hills on the railway, three hundred and twenty-seven miles from Mombasa. The town is built on low swampy ground, in a rather unhealthy situation, without a very good water supply. It was planted in this situation because the location was convenient for shops and supply depots used in the construction of the railway. The government buildings, however, with the hospitals and barracks, are placed a mile farther west on higher ground. About 15,000 people, less than 1,000 of them being whites, occupy the tin houses which constitute the town, but the stores are equipped to supply the needs of a very large neighborhood, and Nairobi is therefore headquarters for this portion of the world. A brigade of the King's African Rifles and the Central Offices of the Uganda Railway are also stationed here, and the incidentals of civilization which the English always carry with them make a strange contrast with the surrounding wilderness of the country. To see, for instance, a large company of men sitting down to dinner in evening dress would seem to us scarcely in harmony in a spot where ten years before lions and other wild beasts were undisturbed.

To add to the incongruity of this landscape under the Equator, one hundred miles away rises the snow-clad peak of Mt. Kenya, visible on a clear day from the higher ground above Nairobi. The flanks of the mountain can be reached by a fairly good road in an automobile. It passes through a fertile country, undulating and marked by numerous water courses, shaded with flourishing trees. A number of colonists have taken up large estates of many thousand acres, raising ostriches, sheep and cattle, or coffee and other staple crops. It was at Nairobi that the Roosevelt expedition picked up a great part of its hunting outfit, and on the estates of the colonists much of its early hunting was done.

Lion hunting is good here. The traveler's host insists on providing him with a lion, and to do this they first beat him up out of the reed beds and try to bring him to bay. Ordinarily this dreaded beast does not seek a quarrel unless it is forced on him. So the hunters in this neighborhood ride on ponies, and when they have aroused the monarch they pursue him as fast as they can, never losing sight of him for a moment, trying to head him off and enrage him by

their harassing. Naturally, he resents this treatment and begins to growl and roar, perhaps making short charges at his pursuers to scare them off. At last, when he sees that the huntsmen intend to attack him, he turns at bay, and then there is no fear that he will try to escape. He will fight to the death, and when a lion frantic with the agony of a bullet wound is at bay death is the only thing that will stop his frenzied charges; broken jaws or legs, and body full of bullets rarely daunt the courage of this ferocious beast. Either he must be killed before he reaches his pursuer, or the man will die for it, crushed by the powerful paw, poisoned with claws and feet, or crunched in the lion's mouth.

Yet lion hunters tell us that, unless one encamps in the vicinity of a genuine man-eater, there is little to fear. Much as we have been accustomed to speak in terms of respect of this "noble" lord of the wilds, African hunters frequently describe him in accents of contempt. He is never "spoiling for a fight"-at least with man-and unless goaded to anger and cut off from retreat, takes care to avoid battle with this new and perilous foe. There are those who tell us that if an unarmed man comes by chance into close vicinity with a half dozen or so of lions, all he need do is to speak to them sternly and they will slink away like scolded curs, the more rapidly if he throws a few stones at them to hurry up their pace. This course of treatment is highly recommended by some Afrikanders under such circumstances, but it is doubtful if many of us would care to try the experiment. The results of early education cannot but instil in us a certain wholesome respect for this powerful and dangerous brute. How Colonel Roosevelt would have acted if he had met a half dozen of these tawny prowlers when unarmed, we are not prepared to say, as he never met even one of them without his trusty rifle in hand.

Following the East African Railway to the west of Nairobi the traveler soon finds himself in the midst of more magnificent scenery than that seen on the journey from Mombasa. The train ascends the high plateau for sixty miles by a series of wooded slopes to a height of over 6,000 feet. Then the ground falls away apparently more than 2,000 feet, almost like a precipice. Farther than the eye can see

the Kikuyu Escarpment stretches away as straight as a ruler to right and left. The train zig-zags downward along its western face, opening vistas of a wonderful panorama. Far below, the level surface of the plain is broken by volcanic hills and extinct craters, and in the far distance the opposite wall appears dimly like the other side of a gigantic trough.

Lake Naivasha lies on the route, about ten miles square, with the rim of a submerged crater making a crescent-shaped island in its centre. The water is brackish and thronged with wild fowl and hippopotami. Long before reaching Naivasha we leave behind us the highland region and descend the steep Kikuyu Escarpment, the lofty and precipitous eastern wall of the Rift Valley. Crossing this wonderfully fertile valley, we reach the opposite wall, the Mau Escarpment, the lofty western ridge, up which the train creeps with as much difficulty as it had met with in descending the opposite wall. Throughout this whole region the railway is engaged in a constant battle with the luxuriant forces of vegetable nature in the tropics. Over the line hang great trees. The cuttings are invaded by multitudinous creepers, which trail downwards, covering the embankments, and seeking incessantly to bury the roadway. Every neglected clearing is quickly taken captive by these swiftgrowing plants. Only for the ceaseless care with which the line is cleared and weeded it would soon be overrun. If abandoned for a year it would be difficult to discover where it ran.

The valley level left, we now crawl slowly up the Mau Escarpment, getting steadily higher and finding changes in the aspect of the country as we advance. The forest through which we have long rolled onward, begins to give way to rolling hills covered with grass. And the odd feature of this is that there is no border of scattered trees or straggling brush. The woodland ends abruptly and the fields of grass run up to its very edge. The top of the Mau Escarpment reached, at an elevation of about 8,300 feet, the highest level of the railway is attained. Thence it descends gradually to its terminus on the shores of the great lake, the waters of which may be seen from the top of a hill which looms upward about five hundred feet above the line of the road.

As we go onward down a steady slope, and mile by mile the train descends, we throw off the overcoat worn in the cool air of the higher level, and by the time the train reaches the lake shore we find ourselves in a warm and damp tropical climate, though we are still at an elevation of 4,000 feet above sea level. The goal so long before us, Kisuma, or Port Florence, is reached, the railway ends, and before us, like an inland sea, stretches the liquid level of the greatest African lake, the noble Victoria Nyanza.