"I Am Writing You From a Far-Off Country"

Dear Nigel-

The natives are restless tonight.  They pound their drums incessantly.  It grates on ones nerves so after a while.  I wonder what they hope to accomplish from their primitive attempts at music?  Perhaps they wish to sooth the wild beasts that lurk about the savannas.  Their numbers are breath taking.  Today the guides brought us to a watering hole off some bush trail.  We lay in wait for two hours and saw a parade of amazing creatures.  Zebra, gazelle, and even a loan rhino. Managed to bag three elephants when the herd came through.  Took the tusks and left the carcass.  Most magnificent pieces of ivory you have even seen.  Will look smashing on my study wall.  Thought of taking a foot as well.  You know how I admire Albert's elephant foot stool but decided against it at the last minute.  Already the local boys groan under the weight of our kills.  Have been most extraordinarily lucky in that regard.  This place is just overflowing with game.  Most magnificent.

These drums, however, are not.  Am on my third whiskey of the evening and still they pound away at my head.  I am not sure if it is the drink or a trick of sound but it almost sounds as if they are moving closer.  These savages have no real use.  They run about barely covered with their little pointed sticks making the most uncivilized clicking noises.  Their women know no modesty and dress in the most appalling fashion.  Our guides are no better.  They are a superstitious lot.  Imagine, they insisted we push on tonight instead of setting up camp here.  Most ridiculous brouhaha I've ever herd. Some nonsense about holy ground or some such.  But a few shiny coins put their mutterings to rest.  Although, now that I think about it, they were rather scarce at the fire tonight.  No double they are off sulking in the jungle.  They forever complain about the amount we pack into the jungle.  As if we could go a night without our whiskey and cigars!  What ha!

Finally, those damn drums have stopped.  It is so refreshing to hear silence.  Why, there isn't even the sound of birds or night insect to be heard now.  Odd actually.  They are usually chirping and buzzing all night.  Ah well.  Tomorrow we head for the grand prize, a lion pelt.  Am most hopeful to bag at least three.  Will do my best to find a cub for your front fireplace.  Would look most sporting there, eh?

Ah, I hear the sound of feet.  Those dratted guides must be back at last.  Quite a bit of yelling going on out their.  Suppose I will have to pop out and see what the hubbub is.  Will sign off for now.  Best to Maude and tells the boys at the club I shall be back within the month.

Sincerely yours,
Oscar