Greene, H. 1990 November 11 (continued) over breakfast discussed the likelihood that the reason we see so little here is that the past several results from very recent ($\geq$2-4 yrs) clearing and burning. We packed up, carted everything up the hill, and I turned the cars around to face out the 2-track. Just as we were loading the trucks, ~09/15h, two motorcycles w/4 Ugandans roared into our midst from the outside. Jan at first thought they were travelers and asked if they wanted to pass through, but I knew something was up because the lead cycle backed Steven, our chief Game Guard, up to a dirt bank before stopping. They were a thin man w/muscle and white shirt who said nothing and soon took a position on the hillside and watched from above; a thin man w/small t-shirt and bright brown skirt, the District Forest Officer; a shooter, heavier man in a blue windbreaker who was definitely authoritarian and sinister -- drug-like in demeanor; and an average sized man in an overcoat w/ an AK-47 assault rifle slung under his arm. A terse 20 minute confrontation ensued, in which the intruders chastised us for not contacting them for permission, which they said even birdwatchers must have. Bob tried to deflect the conversation w/ a bunch of questions about local forestry practices. Jan stood firm, accepted no blame but was polite and suggested they speak to her superiors in Kampala. Jens and I both felt this was Jan and our Game Guards' party, so kept back to one side of a pickup