Tarlton, small, with short cropped red hair--a sort of Scotchman in appearance--is also a remarkable type.

He has a quiet voice, never raised in tone, and talks like the university man that he is.

He is a famous lion hunter and has killed numbers of lions and elephants, but now he says he is through with dangerous game.
"I've had enough of it," he says.
The colonel, Tarlton, Heller, and Kermit were the only members of the expedition present, Mearns and Loring having been engaged in a separate mission up in the Kenia country for several weeks, while Cuninghame had gone to Uganda to make preparations for the future operations of the party in that country.
Mrs.Akeley washed up in the colonel's tent, while Stephenson and I used Kermit's tent, and as we washed and scrubbed away the memories of the elephant carcasses the colonel stood in the door and talked to us.
We told him that each of us had taken a drink of Scotch whisky the evening before in honor of the elephants--the first drinks we had taken for weeks.
"I'd do the same," said the colonel, "but I don't like Scotch whisky.

As a matter of fact, I have taken only three drinks of brandy since I've been in Africa, twice when I was exhausted and once when I was feeling a little feverish.

Before I left Washington there were lots of people saying that I was a drunkard, and that I could never do any work until I had emptied a bottle or two of liquor." We told him that we had heard these rumors frequently during the closing months of his administration, and he laughed.
"I never drank whisky," he said; "not from principle, but because I don't like it.