There were ducks and geese and Kavirondo crane; and sometimes eland, as fine in flavor as that of the prize steer of the fat-stock show.

Then there were reedbuck and cob, both of which are very good to eat.

So our tins of camp pie and kippered herring and ox tongue remained unopened and we lived as we never had before.
When the day's hunt was over the sun in a splendid effort painted such sublime sunsets above Mount Elgon as I had never dreamed of.

And the music of hundreds of African birds along the river's edge greeted us with the cool, delightful dawn.

Purely from an aesthetic standpoint, our days on the Nzoia were ones never to be forgotten, while from the standpoint of the man who loves to see wild game and doesn't care much about killing it, the bright, clear days on the Nzoia were memorable ones.