CAIRO TO KISUMU the cars. There are fifty-odd zebras feeding on the grass not one hundred feet away. Their black and white stripes shine in the sunlight. Their bodies are round, plump, and beautiful. They raise their heads as the train goes by and then continue their grazing. Farther on we see an¬ telopes, some as big as two-year-old calves and others the size of goats. The little ones have horns almost as long as their bodies. There is one variety which has a white patch on its rump. This antelope looks as though it had a baby’s bib tied to its stubby tail or had been splashed with a whitewash brush. Many of the antelopes are yellow or fawn coloured, and some of the smaller ones are beautifully striped.

“Among the most curious animals to be seen are the gnus, which are sometimes called wilde-beeste. As I write this there are some galloping along with the train. They are great beasts as big as a moose, with the horns of a cow and the mane and tail of a horse. Hunting them is good sport.

“But look, there are some ostriches! The flock con¬ tains a dozen or more birds, which stand like interrogation points away off there on the plain. They turn toward the cars as we approach, then spread their wings and skim away at great speed. Giraffes are frequently seen. They are more timid than the antelope, and by no means so brave as the zebras. ’ The Uganda Railway begins at the Indian Ocean and climbs over some of the roughest parts of the African con¬ tinent before it ends at Lake Victoria, one of the two greatest fresh-water lakes of the world. Leaving the seacoast, the rise is almost continuous until it reaches the high plains of Kenya Colony. Here at Nairobi, where 246