IN East Africa, "shamba," shamba," Swahili for farm, is a word which has various shades of meaning. It may be the more or less finished article of some years' standing, where orderly rows of coffee, or sisal, or maize testify to the white man's success in grappling with nature, and incidentally fill his pockets with well-earned gains; it may be the cultivated patch in the native reserve, which, principally tilled by his women - folk, supplies its lord and master with the necessaries of life, and renders him averse to strenuous endeavour, now that the pax Britannica has foreclosed the internecine warfare which once upon a time he regarded as his, the male's, principal business; or it may be a surveyed area of land "in the blue," so 80 to to speak, which, VOL. COXI.-NO. MOCLXXIX.

having been recently acquired by some enterprising settler, is in process of developmenti.e., clearing of scrub, ploughing, and planting-a potential shamba in fact. It was on

such a one I lived for some nine months prior to the war. Not having such a possession myself, I gladly accepted the offer of a friend to go and live on his property, and start the work of development during his enforced absence.

This particular shamba, then, consisting of some 5000 acres, although not really far removed from civilisation as represented by more or less developed farms to the west and north, was at the time I am speaking of an outpost, in that to the east for many miles there was no human habitation, save perhaps that of some wandering Wandorobo,

a gipsy-like hunting tribe who move hither and thither in pursuit of game, the as yet unchallenged owners being lion, buffalo, rhinoceros and leopard, and other less important residents; while direct communication with the south was effectively barred by the two rivers Thika and Athi, which here run parallel for some ten miles. A range of hills running roughly north and south formed at that time, as far as settlement was concerned, the eastern boundary of this particular district, and on the southernmost end of these hills was my place of residence. From the shooting point of view this ground had been very little disturbed. Occasional shooting safaris would pass through it, but they would be hurrying on further afield to the country about the junction of the Tana and Thika rivers.

One hot morning in January -in the Equator January and February are the two hottest months of the year-I found myself riding at the base of the hills along a native path, one of the trade routes between the Wakikuyu and Wakamba tribes, making for a dark patch of woodland which marked the termination of the hill range. Zebra and congoni (Coke's hartebeest) paused in their grazing to survey me with obvious curiosity. The zebra, after a prolonged stare, moved slowly away, but the congonis' interest was more maintained. As I approached closer, they gave vent to their alarm signal -half-sneeze, half-cough, with

a strong note of disdainwhisked round on their quarters, and went off at their curious lurching gallop. Having retired some 300 yards, they again turned about and scrutinised me. Then, having apparently come to the decision that on that day at any rate I was not out for blood, they closed in and followed me at a respectful distance. About a mile from the house, the thatched roof of which could be seen on a ridge running out from the hillside, a cart track left the main path and the open plain and struck off avenue-like into the thicker bush at the base of the hills. Some fine makuyu (wild figtrees), mimosa thorn, smaller scrub, and a dense growth of grass some five feet high testified to a richer belt of soil, where for centuries the earth had been washed down the steep hillsides by the heavy rains. Following this track I eventually arrived at my destination.

The house itself a wattle and daub structure with thatched roof - was, to put it mildly, unpretentious, but wholly in keeping with the elemental nature of its surroundings, as were also two tame young ostriches who were strolling unconcernedly about the entrance. It was built, as I have said, on a sort of spur running out from the hillside, and commanded a magnificent view of the surrounding country. To the south in the immediate foreground one looked down to the river Thika, and over

and beyond that to a darker line of vegetation marking the river Athi, the two rivers, curiously enough, coming to a point within three miles of each other, and then flowing on side by side for some ten miles or more before finally parting, the Thika turning northwards to join the mighty Tana, and the Athi passing off to the south-east. Beyond the Athi loomed up the great solitary thickly - wooded hill Doingo Sapuk or Kilima Inbogo, the hill of the buffalo; to the east one looked over many miles of bush country, a famous resort of game of all descriptions, and a favourite hunting-ground of shooting safaris. To the west a hazy blue line marked the Aberdare mountains.

Behind the house the grassy hillside rose steeply; in front, on a plateau of the spur on which the house was situated, a small space had been cleared in the surrounding sea of long grass and scrub. Beyond this a dark thicket, chiefly composed of mimosa thorn, grew in a semicircle on the hill-slopes. To the left of this small oasis a donga, overgrown with a mass of bush and tangled grass, led down in the direction of the river. Close to the house a rhino path went off round the shoulder of the hills, which here ended abruptly, to the terra incognita at the back. Exploring the country later, I found that this path was one of the main arteries used by the game residing in the back blocks-i.e., lion, rhinoceros, and buffalo. Following the hill range along

its slopes, it was joined by subsidiary paths which passed across a densely-bushed valley to a further range of hills to the east. It was the route usually taken by those of my above mentioned neighbours who wished to pass from back to front of the range of hills. It was the shortest and most convenient approach to the river, and as there was no permanent water in this valley, there was during the dry season a considerable amount of coming and going. From the vicinity of the house a network of game paths led off in different directions on my side of the hills. One in a series of rough steps ascended the hill at the back of the house and led on to the summit of the range; another, as I have said, led down the donga to the river; a third followed along the base of the hills on their western side; and yet another passed down to the open flats between the hills and the river.

The place in its isolation and stillness seemed to be instinct with the very spirit of the wilds. That dark belt of wood almost threatening the house might well be the noontide resting-place of some crusty-tempered bull buffalo; indeed, later on I found old slots which, judging from their size, belonged to some solitary bull excommunicated from the herd. At any moment a rhino travelling on his lawful occasions might come round the shoulder of the hills, a surmise which turned out to be