< PREVIOUS  >NEXT |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 Diary of Ellen Rimbauer- Excerpt #2 19 April 1908--Kenya, Africa Africa. The dark continent. A man's place. Primitive and intriguing. The birthplace of mankind, they say. Eden, they say. Skin so black it's blue. Wild animals in numbers that stagger the imagination. Oh, to have a motion picture camera record this! John and I, and three other couples, two from Britain, one from Cleveland (ironically he and John share some business acquaintances there), are escorted into the bush by nearly thirty natives, an Australian guide named Charles Hammer and a Negro gun-bearer named Hipshoo--at least that's how we all pronounce it. About ten of the thirty are women, two of whom are assigned to me, one named Sukeena, the other Marishpa. They tend to me like court-appointed maids, at my side the moment I need them. Bright-eyed and filled with laughter, they have greatly elevated my spirits, which had been lagging these past several weeks. Christmas away from home was most trying, and though John endeavored to explain to me that I had a new home now, it only made matters worse. That home is, of course, the grand house, and what pieces of information we've obtained while away are encouraging indeed. The walls are up, the roof going on. It is said to have thirty windows on the front of the house alone. The glass is being ordered for them now. I have continued to collect, starting in the Pacific Islands with lovely wood carvings, some coral and one enormous fish that John had taxidermied. Its species escapes me, though indirectly he's told me a dozen times as he loves telling this fishing story at nearly every dinner table we enjoy. I believe John caught some two hundred fish during the course of our stay, and with only this one to remember it by, he stretches the story a little longer (the fish too!) each time he tells it. < PREVIOUS  >NEXT |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5