Audubon: The Last Safari

	The Last Safari Text by Earl Theisen In 1953, Ernest Hemingway and his wife, Mary, accompanied by the Look photographer Earl Theisen, traveled to Kenya in what turned out to be the waning years of the grand African safari. Soon after, a wave of independence swept the continent, which had largely been under European domination since the end of the last century. And as people worldwide became increasingly aware of their environment and the threats to it, the notion of killing animals for sport began to be looked at in a different light. Hemingway was born in 1899, and in honor of the centennial of his birth, Scribner's has published True at First Light, a fictionalized memoir edited by his son Patrick. It is in part an account of that 1953 safari, during which Earl Theisen took photographs and sent letters -- presented here in edited form -- back to his wife, detailing his days with the Hemingways. Saturday, August Last night after dark I arrived in camp and was assigned my tent and boy. My tent is one of eight, and there are 22 boys to take care of us. Hemingway is now "Pop," and I am "Ty" -- we like each other. He is exceedingly friendly and sensitive. We went on a bird hunt and got about 12, plus a dik-dik. It is a gazelle about the size and shape of a jackrabbit. Two of the birds were lesser bustards. Somewhat rare but good eating. Tuesday, September 1 Today our safari starts, and tea was brought at 6:30. Right after breakfast we all piled into the safari car to go for licenses at Muchako. They cost 1,200 shillings apiece ($172), and now we can shoot lions, elephants, buffalo, rhinos, etc., and I am licensed to shoot them with cameras providing there is a "white hunter" with a .375 cal. or larger behind me. This caliber is elephant size. Pop shot a rhino at 10 paces (30 feet). He charged Pop and me, but the force of the elephant gun turned him and he ran off. It was dark so we could not find him, but at daylight we were back and located him in the tall grass by the hyenas. Wednesday, September 2 Elephant tracks! They were all around outside my tent this morning. There must have been several, but I did not hear them. Thursday, September 3 Before breakfast Pop, Mary, and I went to the dead rhino after a possible lion but found only hyenas. Mary shot one, and it yelped like a dog. After breakfast, went after a wildebeest, and Mary shot a large one. Today we saw Waller's gerenuk, giraffe, elephant, Thomson's gazelle, Grant's gazelle, ostrich, lion, zebra, and that is all I can remember. At sundown we all were out after another bag of guinea fowl. The game ranger (like our game warden) rounded up the fowl in his Land Rover (English version of Jeep) and chased them past us. But everyone missed, so Pop and I and a gun bearer set off into the forest after them. Soon we were deep in, and in the distance singing and yelping could be heard. They were Morani (Masai honor warriors) who came to help us hunt. Each was decked out in a brown cloth a bit larger than a tea towel and that was all. The Morani are Masai natives who have drawn blood with a spear, preferably killing a lion. Saturday, September 5 The elephants and a lioness came back again last night, but this time I was awake. My tent is pitched near a 12-foot bank on a sand river, but two elephants were drinking and rolling in the mud. This was less than 50 feet from my tent. I sneaked out, saw them, and scooted back for my flash camera. This morning early, Pop, Mary, and I, with gun bearers and elephant guns, lesser guns, field glasses, etc., set off. We got a Grant's gazelle, a zebra, and two wildebeests. The wildebeests will be used for lion bait for the Masai Morani hunt. Our native boys will eat the zebra, and the bwanas and memsahib will eat the Grant's. Sunday, September 6 This morning we were off before daylight out to a place where we left a zebra for lion bait. Pop, Mary, Denis the game ranger, gun bearers, and I set out, sneaking up on the bait. We sneaked and sneaked quietly, hardly breathing, so as to surprise the lions at the bait. One of the gun bearers froze and pointed. There directly in front of us, leaning on a tree, was an elephant. He looked huge. We started backtracking, but to our chagrin, we found ourselves with elephants on all sides. With a great deal of caution, guns ready, we worked back to our Land Rover. I made a few pictures, but while we stood frozen, 52 elephants crossed the road, passing the jeep as near as 100 feet. There are 61 in the herd, and occasionally one would take a tree, breaking it off with a report. Wednesday, September 9 The wind blew during the night, and the movement of the canvas and its creaking kept me awake. The elephants came -- this time not to the water hole but out in front of the camp, where one broke off a tree with a big report. All tired and shaky, I was up and away with Pop, Mary, a white hunter, gun bearers carrying elephant guns -- and myself carrying two cameras -- to the place we baited for lions. Much to my surprise there was a big male at the bait, and Pop banged away a single shot. All of us could hear it plop as the bullet struck, but the lion took off. Now two others appeared and sat watching, waiting, challenging us to come forward. It was a nervous time, but Pop said, "Ty, go for help, and fast." He did not want to spare his gun bearers, so I took off in the Land Rover. I took everyone who could shoot back. . . . This was about 6:30 a.m. Carefully this outsize hunt party stalked in, with the bearers following the tracks. First thing I knew, a white hunter to the left started shooting, and there was the lion dead. Pop's shot had nearly done him in, but a lion has a lot of fight. Back in camp the natives came pouring in, offering congratulations to Pop. Killing a lion is a big event in Africa and on a safari. After breakfast we broke camp and set out with two trucks and a hunt car. Thursday, September 10 Our camp is on a huge plain dotted here and there with those mimosa trees with flat tops. We set out this morning and ended in a range of lava-strewn hills. Our game ranger and his Land Rover got us lost, but our Mocamba guides and bearers directed the party home. Curried eland, rice, fresh fruit, cheese, and coffee was the lunch. The meat is always game and wonderful. Pop ate a chunk of the lion. His was raw. Pop just cut off a chunk and ate it. I asked him to do it for me again for a picture and he said, "For Christ's sake," but did it. Mary then cut off her piece. She tries to be a good sport, but to me she carries it to the point of no return. Saturday, September 12 This morning long before daylight, the whole camp set out to the Papyrus swamp after buffalo. Pop had tried for one last night, but neither I nor Denis heard the plop of the striking bullet, but Pop, somewhat to grandstand and show ego, had the whole camp turn out. On the way, three lions just lay there and watched us. Everyone has their lion now except Mary. Monday, September 14 It is night again, and I am sitting on the canvas floor of my tent. A kerosene light on one of my steel safari boxes furnishes the light to write. Bambi, a baby gazelle less than one day old, is lying at the foot of my bunk asleep after the milk I fed him. The baby had been abandoned when Pop, Mary, and the game ranger shot a zebra that fell about five feet from him. He was still wet from birth when I picked him up. The highlight of our safari, but seldom seen, is a Masai lion hunt with spears. It is done by the Morani. They came late into camp yesterday saying a "pride of lions" had killed two donkeys at their manyatta. This noon they were back saying some of the lions had tried to drag a man off, and now they want white men's guns to go along on the spear hunt. We did, and what excitement! Pop and I tried to follow on foot but finally had to take the Land Rover. We set off at an angle, going fast, and three lions broke cover. Pop nailed one, and I made pictures, but the lioness continued on. We finally cornered her, and the game ranger finished her off. Then the Masai went wild. Hysterical, they threw themselves into the thornbushes and yelled, danced, and screamed, and just as wildly I made pictures. Then we set off after the male, but he outtraveled us. Back at camp, the Masai had a dance and jumping contest. Pop also danced with the natives. Tuesday, September 15 Today has been different. The camp aroused at the usual time but nothing seemed important to do. So we all got very, very busy doing little things and doing them slowly with all the time. Pop has a Mzee stick, one carried by the elders of the Masai, and he wanted it to have a silver head. I took a shilling and pounded it out; now he wants me to scratch on his trademark. He is so proud of the stick. Papa is sitting writing letters, which he does along with reading in his leisure time. Now he is discussing how much a writer must know to write. Only a little of his information and knowledge gets onto the paper. He compared a writer to an iceberg, which is nine-tenths below the surface. Wednesday, September 16 Kilimanjaro is out today for the first time, and I have shot Pop in color with his mountain as a backdrop. Pop calls it Zanuck's Hill. Bambi is growing and fine. He follows me around and mothers me when I am not fathering him. I still sleep him in my tent to thwart the hyenas. This afternoon a nearby manyatta . . . invited us over where they will "bleed" a cow and mix the blood with milk for food. This is the custom, and to get the blood, a small arrow is shot into the vein in the neck. It does no harm to the cow. Mary -- who tries everything, even eating some zebra raw -- wants to try this. Monday, September 21 This morning Mary and I had a date with a headman, or elder, to visit his manyatta for pictures. . . . We set off at 8:30 for what I thought was a half-hour drive. Two hours later, we had picked up along the way Masai men, women, babies, milk cans, gourds with milk and blood (which, by the way, one mother kept feeding her baby), stuff to make pomba (beer), and many millions of flies. At long last I saw the welcome sight of the manyatta. They seemed to be oval, smoothly shaped domes of earth behind thorn brush piled to make a wall. Into this we walked onto a carpet of cow dung that seemed like walking on thick sponge rubber. The homes were five or six feet high and the walls made of sunbaked cow dung that had been plastered onto a framework of sticks. They formed a huge circle with thorn fences in the center for corrals for the cattle at night. The livestock is brought in at night for protection against lions and other predators. After handshakes all around, including a special clasping of thumbs for honored old Masai (that's me), I started to shoot pictures. Mary got down on her knees and crawled into the dung-made house of the chief, and coming out I made photos. Then I made photos of two girls shaving each other's head. For this they use a Gillette blade without holder. All the women shave their heads once a week. Next I got pictures of one man and his two wives. One woman was repairing her home by plastering fresh cow shit on the cracks. She ran into the house when Mary and I approached. But she stuck her head back out and asked, "Shillingji?" meaning she would pose for a shilling. So for 15 cents she went on plastering. Wednesday, September 23 The camp now has moved to the Rift Valley. Very hot, and long stretches of views. It is spring here, and many trees are just beginning to bloom. The slight breeze brings a great pleasant odor from them. Pop just told me that he loves me and wants me to either leave right away or stay five more weeks. He got a little mad with me last night when I turned down an all-night vigil on a "bad" elephant that he and the game ranger were going to take. Friday, September 25 This camp under the huge fig trees in the Rift Valley is so peaceful nothing seems to happen. Pop, Denis, and I, gun bearers, and a local Sonja guide with only one eye set out ahead of daybreak to find buffalo. This is probably the smartest and most dangerous of African game. We did not see any, and when we retraced our steps, we found fresh droppings and tracks to show they seemed to bring up the rear of our party. One rhino cow did not know the party was there and ambled toward us; when my camera clicked she froze and debated a charge. Denis shot at her feet to discourage her. Pop said last night that he is free of all prejudices, but it is my opinion that to do the job he is doing he must have them, and the fact that some persons don't like him means a prejudice somewhere. He is likeable, but he enjoys making some persons self-conscious, and squirm, intentionally. Monday, September 28 Last night, Pop, Denis, and I went out for a night drive, and an impala jumped right into the Land Rover. It is open like a jeep, and I was afoot taking flash when this one tried to jump over the car lights and landed instead in Pop's lap. I think I have a picture of it. I also shot pictures of a giraffe that came lumbering through the trees at us. We all thought he intended to walk over us. Of course pictures. The most fascinating are the dik-dik. They are very gentle, and I have many close-ups. Also got a genet cat in a tree. It has a long tail with rings and hugged the tree trying to hide. Tonight we try this again, hoping for a chance at rhino or buffalo. Tuesday, September 29 This morning I had very fine luck with some rhino pictures. One of the boys pointed out a rhino trotting off. We stopped and set off afoot with Roy Home, a white hunter, leading. Soon we heard squealing and snorting. We came on our rhino, a cow, and she was mad at a male nearby. He was a big burly bull and had concealed himself so well it was only the sharp eyes of our native guide that froze me down. He was some 60 feet from me. The two of them had been building up a romance and sounded not unlike a pair of cats at night, except worse. We sat hoping the romance would continue, but he worried and knew something was wrong, so snorted and trotted off. She watched him go, entirely oblivious to us. I made some 75 pictures of the two of them. When she lay down to sleep we threw a rock, and she bounced up and then knew something was wrong. She seemed to try to tiptoe closer, because a rhino can't see. But she snorted and charged off instead. We were 60 feet or so away, with two elephant guns ready. Wednesday, September 30 This morning I got pictures of Pop with buffalo. We were so close once that pictures could not be made because of the click of my shutter. Roy and I had gone ahead inch by inch, and coming up against our cover was the "buff" bull in the cover. This was too close for comfort, so we circled and were going up the side, all the while watching wind direction, when suddenly a bird flushed alongside us, and all hell broke loose as the herd took off. But I already had made pictures at a safe distance with Pop in the foreground. Mr. H. can't crawl because of his bad knee, so stalking is difficult if not impossible. Besides he has no patience for the art. Thursday, October 1 This morning Pop . . . got a leopard. All safaris try for leopard but few get them. We had gone out at 5 a.m. to a place baited for lion . . . and the gun bearer spotted a leopard lying upside down who was resting his tummy after feasting on bait. He died trying to chew off his leg where he had been shot. The tendons were all tangled around his fangs in his dead mouth. Friday, October 2 Tomorrow is my last day in camp, and it will be a long day. This place has been like a dream, with something of import happening each day. Mom, or Mary, got her lesser kudu today, and it is a nice one. This trophy is very difficult, because it is difficult to both find and get close to them. Usually it is the last thing on a safari, and many never get one. Pop hasn't even on earlier ones. Saturday, October 3 This morning we all got up about 4. Pop and Mary are so anxious to get Mary a lion before I leave. And we almost got a big male in our lap. There was nothing at our bait even though we had put two zebras and a kongoni over the time here. So we set out and at a water hole picked up a huge track. Our boys followed with the trailing Pop for a picture. It was dusty and closed in, and first thing I knew, all hell broke loose. This turned him, roaring away. I got a picture, I hope.

The Last Safari

Text by Earl Theisen

In 1953, Ernest Hemingway and his wife, Mary, accompanied by the Look photographer Earl Theisen, traveled to Kenya in what turned out to be the waning years of the grand African safari. Soon after, a wave of independence swept the continent, which had largely been under European domination since the end of the last century. And as people worldwide became increasingly aware of their environment and the threats to it, the notion of killing animals for sport began to be looked at in a different light. Hemingway was born in 1899, and in honor of the centennial of his birth, Scribner's has published True at First Light, a fictionalized memoir edited by his son Patrick. It is in part an account of that 1953 safari, during which Earl Theisen took photographs and sent letters -- presented here in edited form -- back to his wife, detailing his days with the Hemingways.

Saturday, August
Last night after dark I arrived in camp and was assigned my tent and boy. My tent is one of eight, and there are 22 boys to take care of us.
Hemingway is now "Pop," and I am "Ty" -- we like each other. He is exceedingly friendly and sensitive.
We went on a bird hunt and got about 12, plus a dik-dik. It is a gazelle about the size and shape of a jackrabbit. Two of the birds were lesser bustards. Somewhat rare but good eating.

Tuesday, September 1
Today our safari starts, and tea was brought at 6:30. Right after breakfast we all piled into the safari car to go for licenses at Muchako. They cost 1,200 shillings apiece ($172), and now we can shoot lions, elephants, buffalo, rhinos, etc., and I am licensed to shoot them with cameras providing there is a "white hunter" with a .375 cal. or larger behind me. This caliber is elephant size. Pop shot a rhino at 10 paces (30 feet). He charged Pop and me, but the force of the elephant gun turned him and he ran off. It was dark so we could not find him, but at daylight we were back and located him in the tall grass by the hyenas.

Wednesday, September 2
Elephant tracks! They were all around outside my tent this morning. There must have been several, but I did not hear them.

Thursday, September 3
Before breakfast Pop, Mary, and I went to the dead rhino after a possible lion but found only hyenas. Mary shot one, and it yelped like a dog. After breakfast, went after a wildebeest, and Mary shot a large one. Today we saw Waller's gerenuk, giraffe, elephant, Thomson's gazelle, Grant's gazelle, ostrich, lion, zebra, and that is all I can remember. At sundown we all were out after another bag of guinea fowl. The game ranger (like our game warden) rounded up the fowl in his Land Rover (English version of Jeep) and chased them past us. But everyone missed, so Pop and I and a gun bearer set off into the forest after them. Soon we were deep in, and in the distance singing and yelping could be heard. They were Morani (Masai honor warriors) who came to help us hunt. Each was decked out in a brown cloth a bit larger than a tea towel and that was all. The Morani are Masai natives who have drawn blood with a spear, preferably killing a lion.

Saturday, September 5
The elephants and a lioness came back again last night, but this time I was awake. My tent is pitched near a 12-foot bank on a sand river, but two elephants were drinking and rolling in the mud. This was less than 50 feet from my tent. I sneaked out, saw them, and scooted back for my flash camera. This morning early, Pop, Mary, and I, with gun bearers and elephant guns, lesser guns, field glasses, etc., set off. We got a Grant's gazelle, a zebra, and two wildebeests. The wildebeests will be used for lion bait for the Masai Morani hunt. Our native boys will eat the zebra, and the bwanas and memsahib will eat the Grant's.

Sunday, September 6
This morning we were off before daylight out to a place where we left a zebra for lion bait. Pop, Mary, Denis the game ranger, gun bearers, and I set out, sneaking up on the bait. We sneaked and sneaked quietly, hardly breathing, so as to surprise the lions at the bait. One of the gun bearers froze and pointed. There directly in front of us, leaning on a tree, was an elephant. He looked huge. We started backtracking, but to our chagrin, we found ourselves with elephants on all sides. With a great deal of caution, guns ready, we worked back to our Land Rover. I made a few pictures, but while we stood frozen, 52 elephants crossed the road, passing the jeep as near as 100 feet. There are 61 in the herd, and occasionally one would take a tree, breaking it off with a report.

Wednesday, September 9
The wind blew during the night, and the movement of the canvas and its creaking kept me awake. The elephants came -- this time not to the water hole but out in front of the camp, where one broke off a tree with a big report. All tired and shaky, I was up and away with Pop, Mary, a white hunter, gun bearers carrying elephant guns -- and myself carrying two cameras -- to the place we baited for lions. Much to my surprise there was a big male at the bait, and Pop banged away a single shot. All of us could hear it plop as the bullet struck, but the lion took off. Now two others appeared and sat watching, waiting, challenging us to come forward. It was a nervous time, but Pop said, "Ty, go for help, and fast." He did not want to spare his gun bearers, so I took off in the Land Rover.
I took everyone who could shoot back. . . . This was about 6:30 a.m. Carefully this outsize hunt party stalked in, with the bearers following the tracks. First thing I knew, a white hunter to the left started shooting, and there was the lion dead. Pop's shot had nearly done him in, but a lion has a lot of fight. Back in camp the natives came pouring in, offering congratulations to Pop. Killing a lion is a big event in Africa and on a safari. After breakfast we broke camp and set out with two trucks and a hunt car.

Thursday, September 10
Our camp is on a huge plain dotted here and there with those mimosa trees with flat tops. We set out this morning and ended in a range of lava-strewn hills. Our game ranger and his Land Rover got us lost, but our Mocamba guides and bearers directed the party home.
Curried eland, rice, fresh fruit, cheese, and coffee was the lunch. The meat is always game and wonderful. Pop ate a chunk of the lion. His was raw. Pop just cut off a chunk and ate it. I asked him to do it for me again for a picture and he said, "For Christ's sake," but did it. Mary then cut off her piece. She tries to be a good sport, but to me she carries it to the point of no return.

Saturday, September 12
This morning long before daylight, the whole camp set out to the Papyrus swamp after buffalo. Pop had tried for one last night, but neither I nor Denis heard the plop of the striking bullet, but Pop, somewhat to grandstand and show ego, had the whole camp turn out. On the way, three lions just lay there and watched us. Everyone has their lion now except Mary.

Monday, September 14
It is night again, and I am sitting on the canvas floor of my tent. A kerosene light on one of my steel safari boxes furnishes the light to write. Bambi, a baby gazelle less than one day old, is lying at the foot of my bunk asleep after the milk I fed him. The baby had been abandoned when Pop, Mary, and the game ranger shot a zebra that fell about five feet from him. He was still wet from birth when I picked him up.
The highlight of our safari, but seldom seen, is a Masai lion hunt with spears. It is done by the Morani. They came late into camp yesterday saying a "pride of lions" had killed two donkeys at their manyatta. This noon they were back saying some of the lions had tried to drag a man off, and now they want white men's guns to go along on the spear hunt. We did, and what excitement! Pop and I tried to follow on foot but finally had to take the Land Rover. We set off at an angle, going fast, and three lions broke cover. Pop nailed one, and I made pictures, but the lioness continued on. We finally cornered her, and the game ranger finished her off. Then the Masai went wild. Hysterical, they threw themselves into the thornbushes and yelled, danced, and screamed, and just as wildly I made pictures. Then we set off after the male, but he outtraveled us. Back at camp, the Masai had a dance and jumping contest. Pop also danced with the natives.

Tuesday, September 15
Today has been different. The camp aroused at the usual time but nothing seemed important to do. So we all got very, very busy doing little things and doing them slowly with all the time. Pop has a Mzee stick, one carried by the elders of the Masai, and he wanted it to have a silver head. I took a shilling and pounded it out; now he wants me to scratch on his trademark. He is so proud of the stick.
Papa is sitting writing letters, which he does along with reading in his leisure time. Now he is discussing how much a writer must know to write. Only a little of his information and knowledge gets onto the paper. He compared a writer to an iceberg, which is nine-tenths below the surface.

Wednesday, September 16
Kilimanjaro is out today for the first time, and I have shot Pop in color with his mountain as a backdrop. Pop calls it Zanuck's Hill.
Bambi is growing and fine. He follows me around and mothers me when I am not fathering him. I still sleep him in my tent to thwart the hyenas. This afternoon a nearby manyatta . . . invited us over where they will "bleed" a cow and mix the blood with milk for food. This is the custom, and to get the blood, a small arrow is shot into the vein in the neck. It does no harm to the cow. Mary -- who tries everything, even eating some zebra raw -- wants to try this.

Monday, September 21
This morning Mary and I had a date with a headman, or elder, to visit his manyatta for pictures. . . . We set off at 8:30 for what I thought was a half-hour drive. Two hours later, we had picked up along the way Masai men, women, babies, milk cans, gourds with milk and blood (which, by the way, one mother kept feeding her baby), stuff to make pomba (beer), and many millions of flies.
At long last I saw the welcome sight of the manyatta. They seemed to be oval, smoothly shaped domes of earth behind thorn brush piled to make a wall. Into this we walked onto a carpet of cow dung that seemed like walking on thick sponge rubber.
The homes were five or six feet high and the walls made of sunbaked cow dung that had been plastered onto a framework of sticks. They formed a huge circle with thorn fences in the center for corrals for the cattle at night. The livestock is brought in at night for protection against lions and other predators.
After handshakes all around, including a special clasping of thumbs for honored old Masai (that's me), I started to shoot pictures. Mary got down on her knees and crawled into the dung-made house of the chief, and coming out I made photos. Then I made photos of two girls shaving each other's head. For this they use a Gillette blade without holder. All the women shave their heads once a week. Next I got pictures of one man and his two wives. One woman was repairing her home by plastering fresh cow shit on the cracks. She ran into the house when Mary and I approached. But she stuck her head back out and asked, "Shillingji?" meaning she would pose for a shilling. So for 15 cents she went on plastering.

Wednesday, September 23
The camp now has moved to the Rift Valley. Very hot, and long stretches of views. It is spring here, and many trees are just beginning to bloom. The slight breeze brings a great pleasant odor from them. Pop just told me that he loves me and wants me to either leave right away or stay five more weeks. He got a little mad with me last night when I turned down an all-night vigil on a "bad" elephant that he and the game ranger were going to take.

Friday, September 25
This camp under the huge fig trees in the Rift Valley is so peaceful nothing seems to happen. Pop, Denis, and I, gun bearers, and a local Sonja guide with only one eye set out ahead of daybreak to find buffalo. This is probably the smartest and most dangerous of African game. We did not see any, and when we retraced our steps, we found fresh droppings and tracks to show they seemed to bring up the rear of our party. One rhino cow did not know the party was there and ambled toward us; when my camera clicked she froze and debated a charge.
Denis shot at her feet to discourage her.
Pop said last night that he is free of all prejudices, but it is my opinion that to do the job he is doing he must have them, and the fact that some persons don't like him means a prejudice somewhere. He is likeable, but he enjoys making some persons self-conscious, and squirm, intentionally.

Monday, September 28
Last night, Pop, Denis, and I went out for a night drive, and an impala jumped right into the Land Rover. It is open like a jeep, and I was afoot taking flash when this one tried to jump over the car lights and landed instead in Pop's lap. I think I have a picture of it. I also shot pictures of a giraffe that came lumbering through the trees at us. We all thought he intended to walk over us. Of course pictures. The most fascinating are the dik-dik. They are very gentle, and I have many close-ups. Also got a genet cat in a tree. It has a long tail with rings and hugged the tree trying to hide. Tonight we try this again, hoping for a chance at rhino or buffalo.

Tuesday, September 29
This morning I had very fine luck with some rhino pictures. One of the boys pointed out a rhino trotting off. We stopped and set off afoot with Roy Home, a white hunter, leading. Soon we heard squealing and snorting. We came on our rhino, a cow, and she was mad at a male nearby. He was a big burly bull and had concealed himself so well it was only the sharp eyes of our native guide that froze me down. He was some 60 feet from me. The two of them had been building up a romance and sounded not unlike a pair of cats at night, except worse. We sat hoping the romance would continue, but he worried and knew something was wrong, so snorted and trotted off. She watched him go, entirely oblivious to us. I made some 75 pictures of the two of them. When she lay down to sleep we threw a rock, and she bounced up and then knew something was wrong. She seemed to try to tiptoe closer, because a rhino can't see. But she snorted and charged off instead. We were 60 feet or so away, with two elephant guns ready.

Wednesday, September 30
This morning I got pictures of Pop with buffalo. We were so close once that pictures could not be made because of the click of my shutter. Roy and I had gone ahead inch by inch, and coming up against our cover was the "buff" bull in the cover. This was too close for comfort, so we circled and were going up the side, all the while watching wind direction, when suddenly a bird flushed alongside us, and all hell broke loose as the herd took off. But I already had made pictures at a safe distance with Pop in the foreground. Mr. H. can't crawl because of his bad knee, so stalking is difficult if not impossible. Besides he has no patience for the art.

Thursday, October 1
This morning Pop . . . got a leopard. All safaris try for leopard but few get them. We had gone out at 5 a.m. to a place baited for lion . . . and the gun bearer spotted a leopard lying upside down who was resting his tummy after feasting on bait. He died trying to chew off his leg where he had been shot. The tendons were all tangled around his fangs in his dead mouth.

Friday, October 2
Tomorrow is my last day in camp, and it will be a long day. This place has been like a dream, with something of import happening each day. Mom, or Mary, got her lesser kudu today, and it is a nice one. This trophy is very difficult, because it is difficult to both find and get close to them. Usually it is the last thing on a safari, and many never get one. Pop hasn't even on earlier ones.

Saturday, October 3
This morning we all got up about 4. Pop and Mary are so anxious to get Mary a lion before I leave. And we almost got a big male in our lap. There was nothing at our bait even though we had put two zebras and a kongoni over the time here. So we set out and at a water hole picked up a huge track. Our boys followed with the trailing Pop for a picture. It was dusty and closed in, and first thing I knew, all hell broke loose. This turned him, roaring away. I got a picture, I hope.