Aidan Hartley

I sat with rapt anticipation, hanging on every line

In the 1930s, my father trekked Boran-type cattle down from what is now Ethiopia and Somalia

To see these beautiful creatures moving through the acacia woodland is a pleasure – and I reckon a shrewd move on my part

As a boy, my hunter’s remorse was as strong as my urge to kill but as I grew older, I enjoyed my share of bloodlust

In the Great Depression my father settled on the Aberdares slopes with a clear river that cut through forested gorges full of rhino, buffalo and elephant