In the beginning was Mau Mau. Now the indomitable settlers of Kenya are faced with the more organized demand -- Uhuru --freedom for the African, a couple of Oxford educated Kikuya leaders to whom the UN listens and had better, and the ubiquitous threat of Congolese chaos repeating itself in the British colony. Remarkably little else has changed in Ruarkian East Africa since Something of Value. The same craggy faced bwanas accompany their horse-faced memsaabs to some bar in Nairobi to debate the issues of the day and say things like: ""My kids are fourth-generation Kenya. They are Africans just as much as if they were black as Mboya. They have a right to live in their country -- a country that their great-grandfather started and that their father helped pull out of a miserable mess."" Their views haven't changed one whit in ten years. In between the forensics of issue, however, there are events galore. The first white man in Kenya's history is hanged for killing a black, an African politico instigates a Mau Mau resurgence (Ruark outdoes himself with this. There are at least five variations on what it is that can happen to a head on being separated from its shoulders by a panga). There are lion hunts, romantic interludes, and a solution that would have the British resolve their problems by emulating the Portugese in Angola. Ruark writes through his usual gritted teeth, bites off the entire political spectrum of Africa, and spits out a rather limited novel that excites and enthralls in spite of itself. Sell it will.