Severn; so back into the woods I turn, to likewise trudge homewards.

Still the woodland peace broods over all, still the world is muffled, and everything seems to be holding its breath in mute amazement at this dazzling fairyland of white; but, once or twice, I seem to hear the trees whispering faintly; and as I reach the covert gate there is a stir, a sound as if a long-drawn sigh has escaped from the snowwrapped woods. Through the trees shudders the sigh, the boughs quiver as if awakening, and the jewelry of white with which they are decked drops earthwards in powdery showers. The sun vanishes behind a grey cloud and the breeze passes again through the trees-the woodland peace is gone, life has returned, a thaw is coming, and in a little while the tell-tale mantle of snow, which betrayed the doings of the creatures of the night, will be rushing in brown floodwater down ditch, dingle, and brook.

FRANCES PITT

NAIVASHA IN THE 'NINETIES

As one of four officers from India who travelled through British East Africa in 1891-1892, in connection with the preliminary survey for the Uganda Railway, a few impressions of those days may serve to contrast the conditions then existing with those of the present time. This expedition was, in reality, the first to introduce Indians to the interior of British East Africa, for it consisted of some four hundred Swahilis from Zanzibar and Mombasa and forty Indians taken by us from India. The majority of these Indians were Pathan khalassies, men trained to do chaining, etc., on survey work, who had gained their experience with us on the Kabul River and Zhob Valley Railway surveys between 1889 and 1891. They were now conducted far from their homes, about Peshawar, to distant Uganda, a country of which they had never even heard.

To reach the attractive region of Naivasha by the old caravan route from Mombasa, the traveller had to thread his way along some two hundred miles of riband-like track through thick bush country. There water was scarce, and obtained chiefly from certain ungurungas, or rock-pools, usually ten or twelve miles apart. What a relief it then was to feel that the barren and seemingly interminable bush had at last been left behind one! The pleasant district of Ukhambani which one now entered, with its crystal streams flowing through relatively fertile and well-cultivated valleys, enclosed by hills and bluffs of distinction, was enchanting in comparison. A few marches farther and one beheld, from the Company's little post at Machako's, open, rolling, grassy plains, stretching away to the horizon, north, east, and west. These are the noted Athi plains, a paradise for game, which intervene for some forty miles before the forest fringe of Kikuyu is reached. Another ten miles through undulating forest clearings, laboriously cultivated, land one at Fort Smith-so named after Captain Eric Smith of the Life Guards, who has lately built this formidable outpost of Empire in the heart of territory inhabited by truculent and treacherous Wa-Kikuyu ; and he welcomes us on our arrival.

Fort Smith has long since been abandoned in favour of Nairobi; but here we are some 350 miles from the coast and over 6,000 feet above sea-level, so the climate is invigorating all the year round. Leaving the hospitality of

Fort Smith, and this land flowing with the proverbial milk and honey, we wend our way over a wavy, wooded tract, but rising steadily during the next sixteen miles, to the summit of the Kikuyu escarpment. Thence, from an altitude of 7,200 feet, we descend by a steep rocky path into the Great Rift Valley, 1,400 feet below, and camp on the bank of the Kedong stream. Foodless wilds now lie ahead for twentyfive marches before the flesh-pots of Kavirondo are reached by the ordinary caravan route via the Uasin Gishu plateau ; but there is much compensation for this in the beautiful and varied scenery through which the track runs.

At dawn, after the descent into the Kedong, the caravan is roused by a distinctly musical chant from without the camp, which is enclosed by a stout abattis of thorn branches. It soon becomes evident that we are indebted for this harmony to a small band of El Moran, Masai warriors. It is our first meeting with the then dreaded Masai; and these young bloods have strolled over from an adjacent kraal in order to demand hongo, a tribute for permitting us to enter their country. Firmly, but quite politely, they are informed that if it is hongo they seek, they have come to the wrong camp for it. Nothing abashed, and with a considerable display of dignity, they retort that the El Moran are not in the habit of letting the sun dry the dew on their bodies for nothing; and promptly return whence they had set forth.

Continuing our journey in a northerly direction up the Kedong, we pass numerous Masai kraals during the next two days. Many of the tribe are temporarily settled hereabouts, with their families and flocks and herds, in order to take advantage of the now succulent pasturage in the Kedong. A short shauri is held with one of their old chiefs, who stresses, in the course of the palaver, that the Masai and white men are brothers. It would be appropriate, therefore, if the white men made the Masai a present, not as hongo, but merely as a token of good fellowship, because they are in Masai territory. We are touched, yet, on principle, decline to part with the goods without a quid pro quo. Hence it is intimated to the Masai that if they bring donkeys, milk, and hides for sale we will readily purchase them in exchange for iron wire and such other trade goods as they may desire. To this they agree, and their womenkind inundate our camp later on, barter bent.

When we reach the head of the Kedong Valley, forty miles from Fort Smith, we obtain our first glimpse of Lake Naivasha-from an altitude of 7,000 feet above sea-level.

This beautiful sheet of water is still seven miles distant and lying 700 feet below us. It is approached by a gently falling plain of short grass, interspersed with small trees and scrub as we draw near to its shores. On the early morning miasma lifting, the scene gradually unfolded during the march is one of exquisite charm, the surface of the calm water glimmering before one as the sun steadily ascends the heavens. Camp is pitched about half a mile from the eastern margin of the lake, and approximately midway between its northern and southern extremities. A number of Masai kraals in the vicinity are still occupied, so, for better security, a strong boma is constructed round the camp, the brushwood and trees growing near-by being cut down for the purpose.

Since those days I have seen many entrancing lakes in the East; and though as artistic gems some of the small lakes in the highlands of Japan are not easily surpassed, yet they lack the wild environment and interesting animal life then so much in evidence around Naivasha. Early loves are said to linger longest in the memory, so I may be prejudiced in regarding Naivasha as one of the most picturesque sheets of water upon which I have gazed. Nevertheless, carrying my mind back more than thirty years, I can still recall the sensation of pleasure pervading me when first we beheld the shimmering waters of Naivasha that keen April morning; and as one became better acquainted with its beauty one's appreciation increased rather than diminished.

We subsequently made the complete circuit of this irregular, pear-shaped stretch of water, which is about twelve miles long and nine wide; but before narrating our experiences there, let me attempt a first impression from our boma on its eastern shore, which served as our headquarters for the next fortnight.

We are in a volcanic region, and, looking south, we discern the tops of two extinct volcanoes of considerable size. One, Longonot, whose bare circular summit rises to an altitude of about 8,700 feet above sea-level, is distant only ten miles from camp. To reach Naivasha we had passed close beside its barren eastern slopes; and, when we first clambered down into the Kedong Valley, the other volcano, Suswa, sprung up as a solitary mass out of the broad, prairielike valley some fifteen miles away to the west. The mountains and hills confronting our camp to the west and south-west seem to raise their heads aloft from the very verge of Naivasha's waters. In the former direction occa

sional puffs of steam may be seen to issue from the Buré heights, outlying features of the mighty Mau escarpment which bounds the Rift Valley for hundreds of miles along its western border, and here reaches an elevation of more than 10,000 feet above sea-level. Three conical peaks to the south-west are conspicuous objects of the lower landscape, and these, too, appear to rise from the lap of the lake and to define its southern limit. Here, on the east, and looking north along the shore, a gentle, grassy slope extends down to the water's edge; whilst farther back is the stately continuation of the Kikuyu range, fading away in the far north to the pencilled outlines of the forbidding Lykipia escarpment.

It is a fine setting for this mirror-like reservoir reposing at an altitude of about 6,300 feet amid these once turbulent mountains; and the view westwards at dawn across the lake, with its background of hills and the mist still hanging in the air of an April morn, is as soft a panorama as any artist could desire. Near-by is a long narrow island, partially wooded with scrub, which has thrust itself above the surface of the lake close to the shore, and runs some distance out in crescent form as though portion of the sharp rim of an ancient crater. A smaller adjacent islet is also visible. Soundings taken from our Berthon boat show that the water at one side of these isles deepens suddenly, as if a bottomless pit lay concealed between their rocky summits.

Otherwise the lake is shallow hereabouts, and ducks innumerable are peacefully swimming to and fro, rippling its glassy surface in their active search for food. So tame at first are these water-fowl-for seldom has a gun been levelled at them-that they pay little heed to the strings of porters wending their way between the camp and the lake to fill their kibuyus (calabashes) with water, as their supply for the day. Here and there, too, a solitary crane may be seen preening himself whilst standing in the shallows; and now and again a flock of geese suddenly emerges from the mist and alights on the lake with a loud swish," causing a rare commotion for some moments.

Big game was likewise very plentiful then; and I recall how, the first morning after our arrival, I set out early for the margin of the lake from camp with nothing in my hand but a stick. When returning, a herd of several hundred zebra thundered up to within a few score yards of me. They stopped short abruptly, and gazed at me for fully two minutes as I stood stock-still. Then, uttering