Noah was our godfather, and he pitched and caulked a ship
’With stable-room for two of each and fodder for the trip,
Lest when the Flood made sea of earth the animals should die;
And two by two he stalled us till the wrath of God was by. 
But who in the name of the Pentateuch can the paleface people be
Who ha’ done on the plains of Africa more than he did at sea?

A million hoofs once drummed the dust (Kongoni led the way!) >From river-pool to desert-lick we thundered in array Until the dark-skin people came with tube and smoke and shot, Hunting and driving and killing, and leaving the meat to rot.  And we didn’t know who the hunters were, but we saw the herds grow thin That used to drum the dust-clouds up with thousand-footed din.

We were few when the paleface people came—­scattered and few and afraid.  Fewer were they, but they brought the law, and the dark-skin men obeyed.  The paleface people drew a line that none by dark or day Might cross with fell intent to hunt—­capture or drive or slay.  But who ran the paleface people be with red-meat appetites Who ruled anew what Noah knew—­that animals have rights?

And now in the Athi Game Reserve—­in a million-acre park A million creatures graze who went by twos into the Ark.  We sleep o’ nights without alarm (Kongoni, prick your ear!) And barring the leopard and lion to watch, and ticks, we’ve nought to fear, Zebra, giraffe and waterbuck, rhino and ostrich too—­ But who can the paleface people be who know what Noah knew?

The lions awoke us a little before dawn as the proprietor had promised.  They seemed to have had bad hunting, for their boastfulness was gone.  They came in twos and threes, snarling, only roaring intermittently—­in a hurry because the hated daylight would presently reverse conditions and put them at disadvantage.

I grew restless and got up.  The air being chilly, I put my clothes on and sat for a while by the window.  So it happened I caught sight of Hassan, very much afraid of lions, but obviously more afraid of being seen from the hotel windows.  He was sneaking along as close to the house as he could squeeze, his head just visible above the veranda rail.

For no better reason than that I was curious and unoccupied, I slipped out of the house and followed him.

Once clear of the hotel he seemed to imagine himself safe, for without another glance backward he ran up-street in the direction of the bazaar.  I followed him down the bazaar—­a short street of corrugated iron buildings—­and out the other end.  Being fat, he could not run fast, although his wind held out surprisingly.  If he saw me at all he must have mistaken me for a settler or one of the Nairobi officials, for he seemed perfectly sure of himself and took no pains whatever now to throw pursuers off the track.

It soon became evident that he was making for an imposing group of tents on the outskirts of the town.  As he drew nearer he approached more slowly.