Essay: Walking on The Wild Side

The part of the self that is Toad of Toad Hall took to the open road again.

The interior Toad rhapsodized, "Walking is the finest thing in the world, but wild walking like this is finer still."

Toad's muscles glowed with well-being. He sported a touraco feather in his slouch hat. He had walked for days out of Kitich, a remote, beautiful camp on the Nyeng River in Northern Kenya, and now was skirting the Mathews Range in sandy, thorny country. Vultures wheeled over a distant lion kill. Toad was walking through heaven.

This was the line of march: first bright...

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