siderably to the north of the country traversed by the railway.
I have compared Kikuyu to English summer scenery; the Mau and Settima somewhat resemble Scotch moors. Frost and mist are frequent; the open spaces are covered with strong grass, diversified by shrubs resembling blackberries and large heath. There are many forests of fine trees, sometimes in the form of patches, sometimes as continuous tracts. Watercourses are numerous, but game is not abundant (or, at least, not conspicuous), and native inhabitants are almost entirely absent. This last fact is to be attributed, not to any secret unhealthiness in the district, but to the preference of African races for low, swampy districts, where they find in abundance the food which they require, and where they have become immune to the fevers which torment Europeans.
To the west of the Mau, the railway descends rapidly, by a remarkable system of viaducts, to the shores of Lake Victoria, a region which is fertile indeed, but better suited to cultivation by Africans or Indians than to be even the temporary residence of Europeans. To the north of the railway, however, the Mau is prolonged in the Nandi country and Uasin Gishu plateau, districts which rival Kikuyu in their beauty and fertility. The latter is in the locality which it was proposed to hand over to a colony of Oriental Jews, as part of the movement known as Zionism. This proposal however, appears to have fallen through, and it is to be hoped that the district will be opened to British colonization.
Brief as has been this sketch of the more accessible parts of the Protectorate, I hope that I have succeeded in making the reader feel that it is not a swamp or a desert, but a very beautiful, potential colony, possessing special importance from its unusual position, which in some ways makes it the door to a new world. The criticism most commonly passed on it by those who are acquainted with Natal, the Transvaal, and Rhodesia is that it is like South Africa, but better. I have not
