l； and find that antelope in the plains averaged 245 yards； with a maximum of 638 yards； while antelope in covered country averaged 148 yards； with a maximum of 311。
APPENDIX IV。 THE AMERICAN IN AFRICA
IN WHICH HE APPEARS AS DIFFERENT FROM THE ENGLISHMAN
It is always interesting to play the other fellow's game his way； and then； in light of experience； to see wherein our way and his way modify each other。
The above proposition here refers to camping。 We do considerable of it in our country； especially in our North and West。 After we have been at it for some time； we evolve a method of our own。 The basis of that method is to do without； to GO LIGHT。 At first even the best of us will carry too much plunder； but ten years of philosophy and rainstorms； trails and trials； will bring us to an irreducible minimum。 A party of three will get along with two pack horses； say； or； on a harder trip； each will carry the necessities on his own back。 To take just as little as is consistent with comfort is to play the game skilfully。 Any article must pay in use for its transportation。
With this ideal deeply ingrained by the test of experience； the American camper is appalled by the caravan his British cousins consider necessary for a trip into the African back country。 His said cousin has； perhaps； very kindly offered to have his outfit ready for him when he arrives。 He does arrive to find from one hundred to one hundred and fifty men gathered as his personal attendants。
〃Great Scot！〃 he cries； 〃I want to go camping； I don't want to invade anybody's territory。 Why the army？〃
He discovers that these are porters； to carry his effects。
〃What effects？〃 he demands； bewildered。 As far as he knows； he has two guns； some ammunition； and a black tin box； bought in London； and half…filled with extra clothes； a few medicines； a thermometer； and some little personal knick…knacks。 He has been wondering what else he is going to put in to keep things from rattling about。 Of course he expected besides these to take along a little plain grub； and some blankets； and a frying pan and kettle or so。
The English friend has known several Americans； so he explains patiently。
〃I know this seems foolish to you；〃 he says； 〃but you must remember you are under the equator and you must do things differently here。 As long as you keep fit you are safe； but if you get run down a bit you'll go。 You've got to do yourself well； down here； rather better than you have to in any other climate。 You need all the comfort you can get； and you want to save yourself all you can。〃
This has a reasonable sound and the American does not yet know the game。 Recovering from his first shock； he begins to look things over。 There is a double tent； folding camp chair； folding easy chair； folding table； wash basin； bath tub； cot； mosquito curtains； clothes hangers； there are oil lanterns； oil carriers； two loads of mysterious cooking utensils and cook camp stuff； there is an open fly； which his friend explains is his dining tent； and there are from a dozen to twenty boxes standing in a row； each with its padlock。 〃I didn't go in for luxury；〃 apologizes the English friend。 〃Of course we can easily add anything you want but I remember you wrote me that you wanted to travel light。〃
〃What are those？〃 our American inquires； pointing to the locked boxes。
He learns that they are chop boxes； containing food and supplies。 At this he rises on his hind legs and paws the air。
〃Food！〃 he shrieks。 〃Why； man alive； I'm alone； and I am only going to be out three months！ I can carry all I'll ever eat in three months in one of those boxes。〃
But the Englishman patiently explains。 You cannot live on 〃bacon and beans〃 in this country； so to speak。 You must do yourself rather well； you know； to keep in condition。 And you cannot pack food in bags； it must be tinned。 And then； of course； such things as your sparklet siphons and lime juice require careful packing…and your champagne。
〃Champagne；〃 breathes the American in awestricken tones。
〃Exactly； dear boy； an absolute necessity。 After a touch of sun there's nothing picks you up better than a mouthful of fizz。 It's used as a medicine； not a drink； you understand。〃
The American reflects again that this is the other fellow's game； and that the other fellow has been playing it for some time； and that he ought to know。 But he cannot yet see why the one hundred and fifty men。 Again the Englishman explains。 There is the Headman to run the show。 Correct： we need him。 Then there are four askaris。 What are they？ Native soldiers。 No； you won't be fighting anything； but they keep the men going； and act as sort of sub…foremen in bossing the complicated work。 Next is your cook； and your own valet and that of your horse。 Also your two gunbearers。
〃Hold on！〃 cries our friend。 〃I have only two guns； and I'm going to carry one myself。〃
But this； he learns； is quite impossible。 It is never done。 It is absolutely necessary； in this climate； to avoid all work。
That makes how many？ Ten already； and there seem to be three tent loads； one bed load； one chair and table load； one lantern load； two miscellaneous loads； two cook loads； one personal box； and fifteen chop boxes…total twenty…six； plus the staff； as above； thirty…six。 Why all the rest of the army？
Very simple： these thirty…six men have； according to regulation； seven tents； and certain personal effects； and they must have 〃potio〃 or a ration of one and a half pounds per diem。 These things must be carried by more men。
〃I see；〃 murmurs the American； crushed； 〃and these more men have more tents and more potio； which must also be carried。 It's like the House that Jack Built。〃
So our American concludes still once again that the other fellow knows his own game； and starts out。 He learns he has what is called a 〃modest safari〃； and spares a fleeting wonder as to what a really elaborate safari must be。 The procession takes the field。 He soon sees the value of the four askaris…the necessity of whom he has secretly doubted。 Without their vigorous seconding the headman would have a hard time indeed。 Also； when he observes the labour of tent…making； packing； washing； and general service performed by his tent boy； he abandons the notion that that individual could just as well take care of the horse as well； especially as the horse has to have all his grass cut and brought to him。 At evening our friend has a hot bath； a long cool fizzly drink of lime juice and soda； he puts on the clean clothes laid out for him； assumes soft mosquito boots； and sits down to dinner。 This is served to him in courses； and on enamel ware。 Each course has its proper…sized plate and cutlery。 He starts with soup； goes down through tinned whitebait or other fish； an entree； a roast； perhaps a curry； a sweet； and small coffee。 He is certainly being 〃done well；〃 and he enjoys the comfort of it。
There comes a time when he begins to wonder a little。 It is all very pleasant； of course； and perhaps very necessary； they all tell him it is。 But； after all； it is a little galling to the average man to think that of him。 Your Englishman doesn't mind that； he enjoys being taken care of： but the sportsman of American training likes to stand on his own feet as far as he is able and conditions permit。 Besides； it is expensive。 Besides that； it is a confounded nuisance； especially when potio gives out and more must be sought； near or far。 Then； if he is wise； he begins to do a little figuring on his own account。
My experience was very much as above。 Three of us went out for eleven weeks with what was considered a very 〃modest〃 safari indeed。 It comprised one hundred and eighteen men。 My fifth and last trip； also with two companions； was for three months。 Our personnel consisted； all told； forty men。
In essentials the Englishman is absolutely right。 One cannot camp in Africa as one would at home。 The experimenter would be dead in a month。 In his application of that principle； however； he seems to the American point of view to overshoot。 Let us examine his proposition in terms of the essentials…food； clothing； shelter。 There is no doubt but that a man must keep in top condition as far as possible； and that； to do so； he must have plenty of good food。 He can never do as we do on very hard trips at home： take a little tea； sugar； coffee； flour； salt； oatmeal。 But on the other hand； he certainly does not need a five…course dinner every night； nor a complete battery of cutlery； napery and table ware to eat it from。 Flour； sugar； oatmeal； tea and coffee； rice； beans； onions； curry； dried fruits； a little bacon； and some dehydrated vegetables will do him very well indeed…with what he can shoot。 These will pack in waterproof bags very comfortably。 In addition to feeding himself well； he finds he must not sleep next to the ground； he must have a hot bath every day； but never a cold one； and he must shelter himself with a double tent against the sun。
Those are the absolute necessities of the climate。 In other words； if he carries a double tent； a cot； a folding bath； and gives a little attention to a properly balanced food supply； he has met the situation。
If； in addition； he takes canned goods； soda siphons； lime juice； easy chairs and all the rest of the paraphernalia； he is merely using a basic principle as an excuse to include sheer luxuries。 In further extenuation of this he is apt to argue that porters are cheap； and that it costs but little more to carry these extra comforts。 Against this argument； of course； I have nothing to say。 It is the inalienable right of every man to carry all the luxuries he wants。 My point is that the average American sportsman does not want them； and only takes them because he is overpersuaded that these things are not luxuries； but necessities。 For； mark you； he could take the same things into the Sierras or the North…by paying； but he doesn't。
I repeat； it is the inalienable right of any man to travel as luxuriously as he pleases。 But by the same token it is not his right to pretend that luxuries are necessities。 That is to put himself into the same category with the man who always finds some other excuse for taking a drink than the simple one that he wants it。
The Englishman's point