"Haraka, how about one last East African safari together? I don’t know how long the local politicos will continue to welcome me here in Kenya, and you have pretty well decided to head for pastures anew farther south,” Bob Ruark suggested to me shortly before Kenya’s independence back in 1962. “It will be a sort of Kwaheri safari (farewell safari),” he added.

“Sounds good to me. And incidentally, the game department has decided to open up a large area of the Northern Game Reserve to safari hunting up in the Northern Frontier District (NFD). It’s an immense tract of bush, and there’s been no legal hunting there since the turn of the century,” I said. “There’s reputed to be some big tuskers roaming that country. It will be safari hunting with a difference, however, as no vehicles are allowed in the hunting area, so it will be a ‘horse-and-camel safari’. Maybe we should give it a try—could be a lot of fun! Have you ever ridden a horse?”

“Let’s do it, just the two of us, no damn photographers or women, and let’s make the whole purpose of the safari a big elephant—a hundred-pounder or 
better,” Bob replied enthusiastically. “And that bit about riding a horse … . I’m as at home in the saddle as I would be on a bar stool at the Twenty-One Club.”

“Safaris going into the ‘horse-and-camel’ area will be allowed to use vehicles to get to a designated base camp, but from then on all hunting will be done on foot, or from horseback. If we move camp to another site, all our camping equipment will be carried by camels,” I explained to Bob. “I think it’s a splendid idea, and something that neither of us has experienced before.”

I lost no time in booking the vast area east of the Mathews Mountain range for a month. The camels and horses, together with their handlers, were available for hire from the local native council. We’d begin hunting on the first day the area opened to safari hunting, making us the first safari party ever to hunt in that area. Bob and I both became more and more enthusiastic at the thought of hunting through that vast wilderness on horseback, with our camel caravan following behind.

The plan was for me to set up a base camp, which I could get to by vehicle, a few days before Bob’s arrival to ensure the horses and camels had been brought in and were in good shape. Bob would fly in to a small bush airstrip near the base camp, where I would meet him—we’d be ready to start hunting the next day.

When I arrived in our hunting area, I found that 10 days previously, heavy, unseasonal rains had swept through the country. Many roads and tracks had been washed away, pools of water were everywhere and the bush was so green and thick I could barely see through it. Elephant sign, however, was everywhere. It was mostly from breeding herds, but I figured with so many jumbos in the vicinity there must surely be some bulls, too. At least, I fervently hoped so, because unless we struck it lucky early, I realized that with the present conditions it could be a hard hunt, indeed.

The crew set up the base camp with everything in good order. Our horses and camels, together with their handlers, had arrived at the campsite and looked to be in fine shape—although the horses were clearly not thoroughbreds. I now awaited Bob’s arrival while gleaning all the information I could about any elephant with big tusks from the local Samburu people. The Samburu are a nomadic tribe, similar to the Masai, who roam throughout this piece of country tending their livestock.

Bob flew in on schedule, and we spent the rest of the day settling in, checking equipment and firing the rifles to make sure all was well. Finally, we made a short scurry into the bush on horseback to try out our mounts and procure some camp meat for a rather large retinue of staff....

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