"October 20.--A Lion Was Roaring Throughout The Night Not Far
From The Tent On His Way Towards The River To Drink; At Every
Roar He Was Answered By The Deep Angry Cry Of The Baboons, Who
Challenged Him Immediately From Their Secure Positions On The
High Rocks And Trees.
I found the tracks of his large feet upon
the bank of the river, but there is no possibility of finding
these animals in the daytime, as they retire to the high grass
upon the table lands.
"The banks of the Atbara are now swarming with small birds that
throng the bushes (a species of willow), growing by the water's
edge; the weight of a large flock bends down the slender boughs
until they touch the water: this is their opportunity for
drinking, as their beaks for an instant kiss the stream. These
unfortunate little birds get no rest, the large fish and the
crocodiles grab at them when they attempt to drink, while the
falcons and hawks pursue them at all times and in every
direction. Nothing is fat, as nothing can obtain rest, the
innumerable birds and beasts of prey give no peace to the weaker
kinds; the fattest alderman of the city of London would become a
skeleton, if hunted for two hours daily by a hyaena.
"October 23.--This evening I took a walk, accompanied by my wife,
and Bacheet with a spare gun, to try for a shot at guinea-fowl.
We were strolling along the margin of the river, when we heard a
great shrieking of women on the opposite side, in the spot from
which the people of Sofi fetch their water.
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