After the jungle of the coast line, the country becomes comparatively open and soon begins to look like parts of America where the woods have been cut away and the brush allowed to grow up in the fields. Here the land is carpeted with grass about a foot or so high. Thousands of square miles of such grass are going to waste. I saw no stock to speak of, and at that place but little wild game. Without knowing anything about the tsetse fly and other cattle pests, I should say that the pastures just back of the coast might feed many thousands of cattle and hogs. The soil seems rich. It is a fat clay, the colour of well-burnt brick, which turns everything red. The dust filled our car; it coated our faces, and crept through our clothes. When we attempted to wash, the water soon became a bright vermilion, and the towels upon which we dried were brick-red. My pillow, after I had travelled all night through such dust, had changed from white to terracotta, and there was a Venetian red spot where my head had lain. The wisest travellers cleansed eyes and nostrils several times a day with an antiseptic solution. It is a strange thing to go to sleep in the woods and then awake to find one’s self rolling over a high, treeless country with game by the thousand gambolling along the car tracks. We awoke on the Kapiti plains, which are about a mile above the sea and two hundred and sixty-eight miles from Mombasa. These plains are of a black sandy loam and covered with a thick grass. They look much as Iowa, Kansas, or Nebraska did when the railroads were first built through them and the buffaloes galloped along with the cars. The same conditions prevail here save that the game is of a half-dozen big kinds, and most of it is such as one can see only in our zoölogical gardens at home. According to law no shooting may be done for a mile on each side of the track, so that the road has become a great game preserve two miles in width and about six hundred miles long. The animals seem to know that they are safe when they are near the railroad, for most of them are as quiet as our domestic beasts when in the fields.