One had a white, blue and red beaded headband from which dangled a small triangle in the center of his forehead.  Another’s elongated earlobes were fastened together under his chin. All were wrapped in red plaid capes covering a crimson toga-style cloth.The statuesque woman wore a navy blue cape over a beaded, tan water-buffalo hide skirt.

Poised, almost regal, she wore more elaborate halo-like beadwork on her neatly shaved head, while around her neck she wore circular hoops of probably sixteen strands of blue, orange, white, red and green beads.

What a fantastic photo they’d make. But I’ve heard how sensitive the Masai are about having their picture taken. They’ve even been known to toss seven-foot spears through cameras–and overland trucks.

We finally approached and asked if we could take their photos. They agreed, but demanded four hundred shillings from each of us, an outrageous sum. We’d never paid anything remotely close to that in the past.

Truth was, in the past five months, I’d only paid for photos twice and that was the equivalent of about fifteen cents.

Although we’d never used those rations she’d been “Saving for Zaire,” our Spartan diet continued. Now, supposedly we were preparing for the latest rumored catastrophe – Tanzania’s cholera epidemic. Our four-wheelers rolled in at 6:30, but there was only one Land Cruiser and a dilapidated Volvo – a file cabinet on wheels. The third and fourth cars were nowhere to be seen. Why wasn’t I surprised? Since wildlife waits for no man, we drew straws and Cheryl and I ended up in the gutless Swedish wonder, along with Pooky and Bongo, Bear and Clara.

From the moment we sat down on the bare metal floor inside the cab, (there were no seats), I sensed we were in trouble.

As we pulled out and headed for the road leading down the steep crater wall, my worst suspicions were soon confirmed. That truck had no brakes or shocks. The driver couldn’t shut off the engine, since its battery wasn’t recharging. The four-wheel drive was only two at best, and both tires were bald. Plus, I suspected the gears were nearly toothless.

However, John, our strapping seven-foot driver and guide, stripped what gears were left, as he shifted directly from third-gear to low, then coasted to a stop without bothering to use his nonexistent brakes. How will we ever get close enough to anything in this wreck?

It would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so dangerous. That heap of moving junk rattled and shook, bouncing us off the floor, as we inched our way down the narrow side of the crater. To make matters worse, there was a blinding morning fog. We couldn’t see thirty feet in front of us.

“We’ll crash into an elephant before we see it,” Cheryl screamed over the engine roar.

Through divine intervention, somehow, we made it to the bottom of the immense crater, fourteen miles across at its widest spot, and sprang clear of the foggy veil. It was positively magnificent below. It was much warmer than the ridge had been with just enough breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay. Verdant grass waved high across the floor until merging with tall hardwoods. Its lake stretched as far as the eye could see. And if there was a better day for game spotting, I just couldn’t imagine it.

As we jarred and jiggled across the narrow dirt path on the crater’s floor, we quickly spotted several lions laying alongside the road. John brought our rolling disaster gliding to a stop. There, just fifteen feet away, stretched three nonplussed females preening in the morning air. To our surprise, a young lion cub curiously poked his fuzzy head out of the safety of the camouflaging grass twenty feet behind them. Then another. And another. And one more – four in all.

We were speechless. Sure, we’d expected to see lions, but who’d have imagined we’d be that close, or find so many all at once, so soon. Those cubs were a special treat. Like the mountain gorillas, they showed no fear, totally indifferent to our presence. For awhile, we sat quietly studying them, then slowly advanced down the dirt trail.

Moving nearer the lake, there were zebras, ostrich, hartebeest and Grant’s gazelles in such abundance that we lost count. There were jackals and fox, scores of Cape buffalo, and those comical trotting wart hogs, tails waving in the breeze like oversized antennas.

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