The moment Hugh Lamprey, who died in February at the age of 67, set foot in Africa, that continent was to be his life. He had already travelled to Iceland, the Himalayas, and the Canary Islands on student expeditions, had served in Palestine and Egypt as a tank officer (tanks being 'great' for watching birds), but that first job as biologist with Tanganyika's game department settled the matter. From then on, save for returning to Oxford for a D Phil and to Devon to retire, Africa - especially East Africa - gave him home and happiness.

As an Oxford undergraduate he had seemed (to this contemporary) to be one more bright-eyed, diligent, and unexciting student, most notable for his quaint walk and deep voice. But Africa, though it did nothing for the walk or the voice, built Hugh Lamprey.

East Africa is rich with Lamprey anecdotes: such as the time he landed his Piper Club aeroplane on the Kilimanjaro 'saddle' between the peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi. For take-off at this altitude of 16,000 feet, a group of Mweka students were asked to hold the tail for as long as possible - and did so too effectively, causing the propeller to hit the ground. Lamprey bashed the damaged blades back into shape with rocks, altered the instructions to the ground-crew, and was soon flying back to base.

On another occasion, when landing near Lake Victoria, he heard popping but did not realise trigger-happy frontier guards were shooting his way. A truckful of militia quickly surrounded him, asked for identification, received it correctly, and were then told how best to shoot down aircraft.

This was most noticeable at the famous Arusha Conference of 1961. All manner of distinguished conservationists were at this northern Tanganyikan town, wringing their hands at the presumed fate of Africa's wildlife when the Africans of Africa gained their independence. (Somehow forgetting that the huge herds which so impressed the early European arrivals had been living in partnership with Africans for centuries.)

Hugh acted as tour leader when the Arusha delegates visited Manyara, Ngorongoro, and Serengeti for, as it were, a final look at the animal treasure house about to be dismembered. At one point, they stood around a dead rhino which had been speared by Maasai. The gloom was considerable but Hugh was enthused. He was eager for the future, knowing that the past - with Africans resentful that their big game had become big business for foreigners - had been none too perfect.

Putting his enthusiasm into action, he became the first principal of the College of African Wildlife Management at Mweka, Tanzania, [which WWF has supported since 1963]. In the next 30 years this institute was to train 2,500 game wardens from 25 nations.

In 1966, Hugh left to become director of the famous Serengeti Research Institute, where many world-famous behaviourists and ecologists worked.

They were a skilled and demanding group who needed careful handling. Tanzania's government has, alas, not been as wise as Hugh had originally expected, and the SRI has suffered accordingly, causing him disappointment rather than anger -as was his way.

For the second half of his working life Hugh was based in Nairobi.

He was WWF's first regional representative for Eastern Africa from 1985 to 1990. He also worked for IUCN-The World Conservation Union, UNESCO, and UNEP. For his commitment to the environment, he was awarded the Order of the Golden Ark in 1987 as well as the OBE in 1990.

Hugh officially retired in 1989, but at the slightest excuse would be back in his beloved continent without a moments hesitation