or hide anything that is eatable, these mongooses keep up a constant low squeaking noise. I have often watched them, and have had them come close up to me, sitting up on their hind legs, trying to make out what I was. It is one of the funniest sights to see them scampering along in a desperate hurry on being frightened, and diving one after the other into the chimney-like holes of an ant-heap, in which they nearly always live. There are scores of other interesting little animals, too numerous to mention, all of which add consider ably to the pleasures of a day’s shooting to anyone who is at all keen to observe the habits of little-known creatures. Bird life is particularly in evidence in the early morning, and everything that has a voice seems to make use of it to the utmost, though with the exception of the yellow-vented bul-bul and one or two other small birds, few can lay claim to anything but a call note, which in most instances is neither melodious nor agreeable to the ears of ordinary people, though to a lover of nature there is something very pleasant even about these. The first bird to make itself heard is the bush cuckoo (_Centropus monachus_), whose curious guttural rolling note may often be heard on a moonlight night, and nearly always for a few minutes about 4 A.M., after which it becomes quiet again till dawn. The next to wake up is the small kingfisher (_Halcyon chelicutensis_), whose pleasant though plaintive voice is also the last to be heard in the evening, before the nightjar starts his monotonous sewing-machine-like chatter. No sooner is it daylight than all the game-birds in the vicinity begin to call and answer each other. There is the grating cackle of the guinea-fowl (_Numida coronata_) which is by far the most plentiful of the four species, excepting _N. ptilorhyncha_, which, however, is not found in any great numbers south of Lake Baringo, where it is very plentiful. There is the harsh and defiant scream of the bush francolin (_F. Grantii_); the less harsh and more pleasing call of the plain francolin (_F. coquei_); the strident guttural voice of the florican (_Otis canicollis_); the curious indescribable call of the yellow-throated spur fowl (_Pternestes infuscatus_); and later on, between eight and nine o’clock, the shrill scream of the small sand-grouse (_Pterocles decoratus_) and the guttural chuckle of the larger kind (_P. gutteralis_) as they fly high overhead on their way to their favourite drinking-place. Most of the above-mentioned game-birds, besides being heard, will probably be seen during a morning’s tramp, together with innumerable small birds, which keep up a perpetual chatter. In fact, everything appears to be full of life and energy. Later on, in the middle of the day, everything is quiet and skulking in the shade; all nature seems dead or asleep, with the exception of the butterflies which flit about, and the myriads of other insects which keep up an incessant hum and ‘sissing’ noise.