Once within the zareba, once you have pushed your way between the giraffes and got their noses out of your jacket-pockets, you have really only to be wary of the ostrich.

He, mincing delicately around you with his little wicked red eye blinking like a camera shutter, may try with an ill-assumed air of indifference to slip up unnoticed close behind you.
If he succeeds he will land you one.

And one is enough.
Into this zareba Harry Luttrell led Martin Hillyard on the next morning.
Luttrell had an hour free, and the zareba was the one spectacle in Senga.

He kicked the honey-badger's tub in his little reed-house and brought out that angry animal to the length of his strong chain and to within an inch of his own calves.
"Charming little beast, isn't he?
See the buffalo in the middle?
The little elephant came in a week ago from just south of the Khor Galagu.
You had something private to say to me?
Now's your time.

Mind the ostrich, that's all.