April 7th, 1925


Our gentlemen have had their first taste of the hunt. I hear them talk at night of the "Big 5" so I expect they will want to continue this wretched safari for a time. We came upon a group of water buffalo, who were less than enamored by our presence.

I stepped back with the porters and guides, and watched in abject terror as the bull charged at Louis. It took shots from all three gentlemen to bring it down, but it slid to a stop right in front of Louis, and until that moment, I hadn't actually believed it would stop.  I will admit to briefly being grateful I wouldn't have to tell Mother of his demise, due to her own recent demise, which I felt dreadfully guilty for.

These creatures are massive. We posed for a picture with the dead buffalo, and it was enormous. I will send a copy later if I am able. If the buffalo had still been standing when it hit Louis, I have no doubt I would be burying a second Vanderbilt heir. It is a prospect I don't like to think on.

The walking has become easier, but I am still tired. Violet has made friends with our guide, Sam, although I haven't bothered. Moza at least keeps me company, even when I lag behind. I find his tail swishing ahead of me in the brush to be quite comforting. He has stamina far greater than I would have expected with all his napping.

Yours truly,


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