ABSTRACT
In 1961, I traveled into the hot desert wastes of what was then the Northern Frontier District of Kenya Colony and Protectorate and saw a great salt lake called Rudolf. It lay in a wild and remote corner of Africa frequented only by pastoral nomads, small bands of El Molo fishermen, colonial administrators, and occasional visitors. There were no roads leading to the lake, and one had to reach it over trails worn deep into the volcanic slag and sand by generations of wildlife and cattle. A first glimpse of the jade green waters was scarce reward for the grueling trip entailed in reaching them. There were no 2creature comforts or any sense of ease near the lake, as one had to be continuously on alert for life-threatening dangers that lurked in the waters and on the land nearby. Enormous, aggressive crocodiles patrolled the shallows along the lake’s shores, and warring pastoralists and armed poachers roamed the rocky hills. Lions roared at night from the cover of dry riverbeds, scorpions and poisonous snakes frequented the rocky lake shore, and hyenas seemed to dance at midday in mirages on the horizon.
