scientist or the traveler or the hunter, but of the soldier responsible
for the lives and the movements and supplies of large masses of men. It
is one thing to follow the track of the elephant or to stalk the lion or
antelope or to collect butterflies or other gorgeous things; it is quite
a different and, from the point of view of learning geography, certainly
a far more enlightening, task to lead a large army over those virgin
solitudes, where your problem involves the careful study not only of
topographical features, but of all the numerous natural conditions which
affect your progress. To provide for the needs of a small _safari_ may
be a light or delightful task; but the difficulties and requirements of
a large force, moving forward against an alert, ubiquitous foe, compel
you to probe into everything: the nature of the country, with its
mountains and rivers, forests and deserts, for scores of miles around;
its animal and human diseases; its capacity for supplies and transport;
its climate and soil and rainfall. And one of your first discoveries is
that the books of the travelers are mostly wrong. What to them was
perhaps a paradise of plant or animal life is to you, moving with your
vast impedimenta, a veritable purgatory. You soon come to agree with
Scripture that all men are liars, and from this rule you do not even
except the missionaries who write with their heads in the clouds; nor do
you except the writers of intelligence books compiled in Whitehall from
the hunting tales of the travelers or the fairy-tales of the
missionaries, and marked "very secret." But these secrets are like most
secrets of the African continent, very disconcerting to the simple,
trustful soul.

[Sidenote: The silence of the forest is broken by the tramp of armed
men.]

[Sidenote: Horses virtually unknown.]