On account of the animals, El Hakim had directed that the camp should be pitched on a tongue of grass-land adjoining a large swamp. This swamp extended over an area of quite two square miles, probably more. The water, being impregnated with mineral salts, was so brackish that it was absolutely undrinkable. A hundred yards from our camping-place the Waso Nyiro foamed and tumbled past at the bottom of a deep gorge, which, in the course of countless centuries, it had cut through the solid rock (gneiss). The sides of the gorge were perfectly perpendicular. Two or three little streams, emanating from the swamp, drained over the summit, falling in clouds of spray upon the rocks a hundred feet below. There were several wild date palms (_Phœnix_ sp.)—the only specimens I saw in the whole of North Kenia—growing at the side of the cliff; they were bearing fruit, which, however, was quite green and very small. The Swahilis name this palm “m’tende,” and the fruit “tende.” We found the side of the gorge extremely precipitous, and had to go up-stream for quite a quarter of a mile for a suitable place to descend. The weather was glorious. It was so dry that the intense heat of the day passed almost unnoticed. The evenings I shall never forget; they were simply idyllic. As the sun set, a cool breeze sprang up; cool, yet not cold. After our frugal supper, we usually donned our pyjamas, lit cigars, and sat out in the open air, now carrying on a desultory conversation, and anon sitting silent, wrapt in contemplation of the manifold beauties of the tropical night. The atmosphere was so dry that no dew fell, and it was perfectly safe in that beautiful climate to sit out in the open air when only partially clothed. The clearness and purity of the deep blue-black of the heavens, studded with its myriads of brilliant stars, was such as I have seen only in Egypt and the Southern Seas. At such times the only sound which broke the stillness was the far-off musical roar of the Waso Nyiro, as, hurrying to its unknown destination, it tumbled over its rocky bed; or the murmur of subdued conversation from where the men sat round their fires, resting after the toil and labour of the day. As the evening advanced the animals lay down one by one, an example soon followed by the men. Presently, our cigars finished, we also would reluctantly retire, not at once to sleep, however, but instead, opening both ends of the tents to the fullest extent, to lie down and gaze out into the calm and silent majesty of the night, drinking in the beauty of the scene with its atmosphere of restfulness and peace, and requiring, for the moment, nothing further from the Author of all things.