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54

yards to see if he had any life left, but he was dead as mutton. My bullet must have gone right through his heart. One can understand how a beast apparently shot dead manages to get the shooter sometimes before he succumbs.

This helped to soften down the Eland disappointment and I completed the last 8 miles into camp in 2 hours over terrible rough going, rather to the astonishment of my 2 gun bearers I think. After 2 [[jornms?]] of lime juice & water, I was able to articulate & spoke some winged words to the saice. Unfortunately it had to be in English, of which his knowledge is about the same as mine is of Swahili, but the general import was unmistakable [[strikethrough]]h[[/strikethrough]] some of it stuck - the more so as I heard bits being translated afterwards for his benefit by his thoughtful friends.

The heapara then informed me that one porter had returned to camp alone at 12 oclock. I asked why and if he was sick. There was apparently no reason & the heapara asked what he should do. I suggested the kiboko, not quite