Countless similar events succeed one another, and ever the everyday monotony of the simple camp life has its delights.
MY FELLOW TRAVELLER PRINCE LÖWENSTEIN, WHOSE TENT WAS ONCE ENTIRELY DESTROYED BY ANTS IN A SINGLE NIGHT.
THE ANT-HILLS ARE SO STRONGLY BUILT AND SO HARD THAT THEY OFFER AN EXTRAORDINARILY STRONG RESISTANCE TO ALL EFFORTS TO DESTROY THEM BY PICK AND SHOVEL.
Day by day my menagerie increases. To-day it is a young lion I add to it, to-morrow a hyena, a jackal, a monkey, a marabou, geese, and other velt-dwellers, all of which I instal as members of my little community and try to become friends with. My efforts have sometimes been amply rewarded. Once during the early morning hours we discovered a large troop of baboons. It was cool: the cold, damp morning mist grew into a drizzling rain; the animals huddled up closely together for the sake of warmth. Later they came down to seek their food. Cautiously we posted ourselves as if we had not noticed the monkeys. But remembering their long sight, I organised a battue, which succeeded admirably and secured me several young ones. At first the comical creatures obstinately withstood all efforts to tame them. Soon, however, they got to recognise their attendant, and became attached to him. Unlike other species of monkeys, baboons are full of character. Like some dogs, they are devoted to their masters but antagonistic to other people. They show their dislike for strangers very clearly. I was always much touched, when I came back from a long tramp on the velt, to be met with outbursts of joy by my chained-up baboons. They recognised their master in the far distance, reared themselves on their hind legs, and gave demonstrations of joy in every possible way as they saw him approaching.
“POSCHO! POSCHO!” MY CARAVAN-LEADER HANDING OUT PROVISIONS.
BEARER’S WIFE GETTING READY THE EVENING MEAL.