'I'll go into training at once.

By all means let's go to Mt Kenia and the other place with an unpronounceable name, and look for a white race that does not exist.
It's all one to me.' 'When do you propose to start ?' asked Sir Henry.
'This day month,' I answered, 'by the British India steamboat; and don't you be so certain that things have no existence because you do not happen to have heard of them.

Remember King Solomon's mines!' Some fourteen weeks or so had passed since the date of this conversation, and this history goes on its way in very different surroundings.
After much deliberation and inquiry we came to the conclusion that our best starting-point for Mt Kenia would be from the neighbourhood of the mouth of the Tana River, and not from Mombassa, a place over 100 miles nearer Zanzibar.

This conclusion we arrived at from information given to us by a German trader whom we met upon the steamer at Aden.

I think that he was the dirtiest German I ever knew; but he was a good fellow, and gave us a great deal of valuable information.