HUNTING GORILLAS IN CENTRAL AFRICA
In 1910 I was in British East Africa collecting specimens for the group
of elephants recently completed in the American Museum of Natural
History in New York. My plan at that time was to leave the region of
snow-capped Mt. Kenia when I had finished making my elephant studies,
and to go into German East Africa, as it was then, in an endeavour to
get specimens for a group of gorillas to be mounted for the Museum. I
had obtained the proper papers from the German authorities, and I had
funds for the purpose. Nevertheless, I had to abandon the plan at that
time because an elephant caught me unawares and mauled me sufficiently
to prevent my carrying out my project.
But the gorilla group remained as an interesting prospect ahead, and
I read eagerly any reports which came to my knowledge of hunters or
scientists who had seen or killed any of these animals. Most gorillas
reported since their original discovery had been reported from nearer
the west coast of Africa than the region which I had intended to
explore for them, but I had heard of one instance of a gorilla in
German East Africa. The story was of a German who had tried to catch a
grown gorilla in a net. He had succeeded in getting the net over the
animal and then the animal had succeeded in tearing his way out of the
net and killing the man. Whether this story was true or not I do not
know. Before I left Africa, in 1911, I heard that a man named Grauer
had gone into the country where I had intended going and that he had
come out through Nairobi with eight gorilla skins. Altogether there
came to me considerable corroboration of my belief that there were
gorillas in the Lake Kivu country of Central Africa, and my intention
to go there and collect the material for a group remained constant
although, through the period of the war, inactive.
It came to life in 1920. One night I was expounding the beauties of
Africa to my friend Mr. H. E. Bradley when he turned to Mrs. Bradley
and said, "Let's take him at his word and spend a year in Africa." Mrs.
Bradley asked what they should do with their five-year-old daughter.
Nothing pleased me more than to assure them that an expedition to
Central Africa was entirely safe and practicable for women and
children, and so an expedition was agreed upon. Years before, when she
was a child, I had promised the niece of a friend of mine, Miss Martha
Miller, to take her to Africa. I had never been allowed to forget the
promise. Now the time for fulfillment had come. So the party was formed
of these two ladies, Bradley, the five-year-old child, Miss Priscilla
Hall, and me. Miss Hall had agreed to look after the youngster while
the others hunted. Not long afterward it was definitely decided that
the expedition was to be a gorilla expedition. I received a letter
from an Englishman, Mr. C. D. Foster, who had shot a male and female
gorilla and caught a baby in the country I had in mind. That led us
to base our plans on gorillas alone, and it was a gorilla expedition,
although Miss Miller killed an elephant the first time she shot at
anything in Africa and both she and Mrs. Bradley killed lions.
To me the gorilla made a much more interesting quarry than lions,
elephants, or any of the other African game, for the gorilla is still
comparatively little known. Not many people have shot gorillas and
almost none have studied them in their native habitat. The gorilla is
one of the most remarkable and least known large animals in the world,
and when is added to that the fact that he is the nearest to man of any
other member of the animal kingdom, a gorilla expedition acquires a
tremendous fascination.
An Englishman named Battell--a captive of the Portuguese of Angola--in
1590 described an animal which in all probability was the gorilla.
Vague stories from other sources appeared in travellers' accounts, but
no real description of the gorilla came to Europe or America until
December, 1847, when Dr. Thomas S. Savage, a missionary, published a
paper in the Boston _Journal of Natural History_. Doctor Savage was
detained in April of that year at a mission on the Gaboon River in West
Africa and there made his discovery. He did not see a live gorilla
himself, but from skulls and information brought him by natives, made
a rather remarkable description of the animals, part of which is as
follows:
Its height is above five feet, it is disproportionately broad
across the shoulders, thickly covered with coarse black hair,
which is said to be similar in its arrangement to that of the
Engé-eco (the chimpanzee). With age it becomes gray, which fact
has given rise to the report that both animals are seen of
different colors....
Their gait is shuffling, the motion of the body, which is never
upright as in man, but bent forward, is somewhat rolling, or from
side to side. The arms being longer than those of the chimpanzee
it does not stoop as much in walking; like that animal it makes
progression by thrusting its arms forward, resting the hands on
the ground and then giving the body a half jumping, half swinging
motion between them. In this act it is said not to flex the
fingers as does the chimpanzee, resting on the knuckles, but to
extend them, thus making a fulcrum of the hand. When it assumes
the walking posture to which it is said to be much inclined, it
balances its huge body by flexing the arms upward. They live in
bands, but are not so numerous as the chimpanzees; the females
generally exceed the other sex in number. My informants all agree
in the assertion that but one adult male is seen in a band; that
when the young males grow up a contest takes place for mastery,
and the strongest, by killing and driving out the others,
establishes himself as the head of the community. The silly
stories about their carrying off women from the native towns, and
vanquishing the elephants, related by voyagers and widely copied
into books, are unhesitatingly denied. They have been averred of
the chimpanzee, but this is still more preposterous. They probably
had their origin in the marvelous accounts given by the natives,
of the Engé-ena, to credulous traders.
Their dwellings, if they may be so called, are similar to those
of the chimpanzee, consisting simply of a few sticks and leafy
branches supported by the crotches and limbs of trees; they afford
no shelter, and are occupied only at night.
They are exceedingly ferocious, and always offensive in their
habits, never running from man as does the chimpanzee. They are
objects of terror to the natives, and are never encountered by
them except on the defensive. The few that have been captured
were killed by elephant hunters and native traders as they came
suddenly upon them while passing through the forests.
It is said that when the male is first seen he gives a terrific
yell that resounds far and wide through the forest, something like
kh-ah! kh-ah! prolonged and shrill. His enormous jaws are widely
opened at each expiration, his under lip hangs over the chin, and
the hairy ridge and scalp is contracted upon the brow, presenting
an aspect of indescribable ferocity. The females and young at the
first cry quickly disappear; he then approaches the enemy in great
fury, pouring out his horrid cries in quick succession. The hunter
awaits his approach with his gun extended: if his aim is not sure
he permits the animal to grasp the barrel and as he carries it to
his mouth (which is his habit) he fires; should the gun fail to
go off, the barrel (that of an ordinary musket, which is thin) is
crushed between his teeth, and the encounter soon proves fatal to
the hunter.
The killing of an Engé-ena (gorilla) is considered an act of great
skill and courage, and brings the victor signal honor. A slave to
an Mpongwe man, from an interior tribe, killed the male and female
whose bones are the origin of this article. On one occasion he had
succeeded in killing an elephant, and returning home met a male
Engé-ena, and being a good marksman he soon brought him to the
ground. He had not proceeded far before the female was observed,
which he also killed. This act, unheard of before, was considered
almost superhuman. The man's freedom was immediately granted to
him, and his name proclaimed abroad as the prince of hunters.
Eight years afterward the first white man killed a gorilla. In 1855
Paul Du Chaillu, a French-American, went to West Africa after gorillas.
To our party, with the intention of not only shooting gorillas but of
studying them and taking moving pictures of them, the narrative of this
intrepid little hunter had particular fascination.
On the day that Du Chaillu saw the first gorilla ever seen by a white
man his black and savage attendants had assuaged a hunger that beset
the party by eating a snake. This was more than Du Chaillu could do.
His account[1] reads:
When the snake was eaten, and I, the only empty-stomached
individual of the company, had sufficiently reflected on the
disadvantages of being bred in a Christian country, we began
to look about the ruins of the village near which we sat. A
degenerate kind of sugar-cane was growing on the very spot where
the houses had formerly stood, and I made haste to pluck some of
this and chew it for the little sweetness it had. But, as we were
plucking, my men perceived what instantly threw us all into the
greatest excitement. Here and there the cane was beaten down, torn
up by the roots, and lying about in fragments which had evidently
been chewed.
I knew that these were fresh tracks of the gorilla, and joy filled
my heart. My men looked at each other in silence, and muttered
_Nguyla_, which is as much as to say in Mpongwe, _Ngina_, or, as
we say, gorilla.
We followed these traces, and presently came to the footprints of
the so-long-desired animal. It was the first time I had ever seen
these footprints, and my sensations were indescribable. Here was I
now, it seemed, on the point of meeting face to face that monster
of whose ferocity, strength, and cunning the natives had told me
so much; an animal scarce known to the civilized world, and which
no white man before had hunted. My heart beat till I feared its
loud pulsations would alarm the gorilla, and my feelings were
really excited to a painful degree.
By the tracks it was easy to know that there must have been
several gorillas in company. We prepared at once to follow them.
The women were terrified, poor things, and we left them a good
escort of two or three men to take care of them and reassure them.
Then the rest of us looked once more carefully at our guns--for
the gorilla gives you no time to reload, and woe to him whom
he attacks! We were armed to the teeth. My men were remarkably
silent, for they were going on an expedition of more than usual
risk; for the male gorilla is literally the king of the African
forest. He and the crested lion of Mount Atlas are the two
fiercest and strongest beasts of this continent. The lion of South
Africa cannot compare with either for strength or courage.
As we left the camp, the men and women left behind crowded
together, with fear written on their faces. Miengai, Makinda, and
Ngolai set out in one party, and myself and Yeava formed another,
for the hunt. We determined to keep near each other, that in
emergency we might be at hand to help each other. And for the
rest, silence and a sure aim were the only cautions to be given.
As we followed the tracks we could easily see that there were four
or five of them; though none appeared very large. We saw where
they had run along on all fours, the usual mode of progression
of these animals, and where from time to time they had seated
themselves to chew the canes they had borne off. The chase began
to be very exciting.
We had agreed to return to the women and their guards, and
consult upon final operations, when we should have discovered
their probable course; and this was now done. To make sure of not
alarming our prey, we moved the whole party forward a little way
to where some leafy huts, built by passing traders, served for
shelter and concealment. And having here bestowed the women--who
have a lively fear of the terrible gorilla, in consequence of
various stories current among the tribes, of women having been
carried off into the woods by the fierce animal--we prepared once
more to set out in chase, this time hopeful to catch a shot.
Looking once more to our guns, we started off. I confess that I
never was more excited in my life. For years I had heard of the
terrible roar of the gorilla, of its vast strength, its fierce
courage if, unhappily, only wounded by a shot. I knew that we were
about to pit ourselves against an animal which even the tiger of
these mountains fears and which, perhaps, has driven the lion out
of this territory; for the king of beasts, so numerous elsewhere
in Africa, is never met in the land of the gorilla. Thus it was
with no little emotion that I now turned again toward the prize at
which I had been hoping for years to get a shot.
We descended a hill, crossed a stream on a fallen log, and
presently approached some huge boulders of granite. Alongside of
this granite block lay an immense dead tree, and about this we saw
many evidences of the very recent presence of the gorillas.
Our approach was very cautious. We were divided into two parties.
Makinda led one and I the other. We were to surround the granite
block behind which Makinda supposed the gorillas to be hiding.
Guns cocked and in hand, we advanced through the dense wood, which
cast a gloom even in midday over the whole scene. I looked at my
men, and saw plainly that they were in even greater excitement
than myself.
Slowly we pressed on through the dense brush, fearing almost to
breathe for fear of alarming the beasts. Makinda was to go to
the right of the rock, while I took the left. Unfortunately, he
circled it at too great a distance. The watchful animal saw him.
Suddenly I was startled by a strange, discordant, half human,
devilish cry, and beheld four young gorillas running toward
the deep forests. We fired, but hit nothing. Then we rushed
on in pursuit; but they knew the woods better than we. Once I
caught a glimpse of one of the animals again, but an intervening
tree spoiled my mark, and I did not fire. We ran till we were
exhausted, but in vain. The alert beasts made good their escape.
When we could pursue no more, we returned slowly to our camp,
where the women were anxiously expecting us.
I protest I felt almost like a murderer when I saw the gorillas
this first time. As they ran--on their hind legs--they looked
fearfully like hairy men; their heads down, their bodies inclined
forward, their whole appearance like men running for their lives.
Take with this their awful cry, which, fierce and animal as it is,
has yet something human in its discordance, and you will cease to
wonder that the natives have the wildest superstitions about these
"wild men of the woods."
Both Savage and Du Chaillu and all succeeding authorities, including
the standard works on natural history, speak of the gorillas as among
the most powerful and ferocious animals on earth. And this reputation
is so firmly established in the popular mind that our plan of taking
ladies with no previous hunting experience of any kind into a gorilla
country in Central Africa was looked upon as madness. But to the
general theory of the ferocity of wild animals I have never been a
convert. And the more I have seen of wild animals in Africa the less
I have believed in their ferocity. Consequently, I explained my creed
concerning the gorillas in this fashion:
I believe that the gorilla is normally a perfectly amiable and
decent creature. I believe that if he attacks man it is because he
is being attacked or thinks that he is being attacked. I believe
that he will fight in self-defense and probably in defense of his
family; that he will keep away from a fight until he is frightened
or driven into it. I believe that, although the old male advances
when a hunter is approaching a family of gorillas, he will not
close in, if the man involved has the courage to stand firm. In
other words, his advance will turn out to be what is usually
called a bluff.
I believe, however, that the white man who will allow a gorilla to
get within ten feet of him without shooting is a plain darn fool,
for certainly the average man would have little show in the clutch
of a three or four hundred pound gorilla.
My faith in the general amiability and decency of the gorilla
is not based on experience or actual knowledge of any sort, but
on deductions from the observation of wild animals in general
and more particularly of monkeys. There are few animals that
deliberately go into fight with an unknown antagonist or with a
known antagonist, for that matter, without what seems to them a
good reason. In other words, they are not looking for trouble.
The lion will fight when the maintenance of his dignity demands
it. Most animals will fight only when driven to it through fear,
either for themselves or their young.
The first living gorilla that I ever observed was in the
Zoölogical Park in London many years ago. It was very young and
its chief aim in life seemed a desire to be loved. This has
seemed to be the chief characteristic of the few live gorillas
that I have seen in captivity. They appear to have an extremely
affectionate disposition and to be passionately fond of the
person most closely associated with them; and I think there is
no doubt that John Daniel, who died in the Ringling Brothers
Circus in Madison Square Garden in the spring of 1921, died of a
broken heart because he was separated from his mistress. I did
not have the pleasure of seeing John Daniel alive; but in death
he certainly had the appearance of anything but a savage beast.
The above notes are here set down for the purpose of recording
the frame of mind with which I am going into the Kivu country to
study, photograph, and collect gorillas.
Going as I am, equipped with motion-picture cameras with which
one can get motion pictures under most adverse conditions, I
am led to hope for something in the way of photographs of live
wild gorillas. I hope that I shall have the courage to allow an
apparently charging gorilla to come within reasonable distance
before shooting. I hesitate to say just what I consider a
reasonable distance at the present moment. I shall feel very
gratified if I can get a photograph at twenty feet. I should be
proud of my nerve if I were able to show a photograph of him at
ten feet, but I do not expect to do this unless I am at the moment
a victim of suicidal mania.
The rest of the party had the courage of my convictions and with these
tenets we set out, men, women, and child to hunt the "ferocious"
gorilla in the heart of Africa.
While getting provisions and equipment in London I had the good fortune
to be able to check up with accuracy the location of the gorilla
country. I had lunch with Sir Northrop Macmillan from Nairobi, Kenia
Colony, Sir Charles Ross, and Mr. Grogan, who twenty-four years before
had walked alone from the Cape to Cairo--the first man who ever made
that trip. Sir Charles Ross had directions from Mr. T. Alexander Barnes
for getting to the Kivu region where Barnes had the year before killed
a gorilla. Mr. Grogan supplemented these directions, for in this very
region on his famous walk he had found a gorilla skull. He knew the
region well, for he had been stationed in it during the war. With this
very valuable corroboration we set sail for Cape Town.
To the Kivu gorilla country from Cape Town is a varied and interesting
journey. It took us about six weeks of constant travelling. The
journey from Cape Town to Bukama, where we left the railroad, occupied
seventeen days including stops which are quite a feature of South
African travel. At one place we waited six days for a train. It is
worth notice that on this entire railroad journey we did not see a
single head of game--so rapidly has African wild life disappeared in
the south. From Bukama we travelled on a steel barge towed by a river
boat for a five-day run down the Lualaba which is really the upper
waters of the Congo. The boat ran along during the day and tied up at
night so that we missed nothing of the beauty and interest of that part
of the river's course. The bird life was in great profusion. Great
trees hung over the river and were reflected from its placid surface
with almost perfect outline and detail. There were a few crocodiles in
sight. We saw one hippopotamus and once on this trip we saw elephants
some distance from the bank.
[Illustration: A map showing Mr. Akeley's route to the gorilla country
north of Lake Kivu and its location in Africa]
At the end of this lazy steamer trip we came to Kabalo from which
occasionally a train sets out upon the journey to Albertville on Lake
Tanganyika. A boat on the lake took us from Albertville to Usumbura
from which a seven days' _safari_ brought us to the lower end of
Lake Kivu. To get from the bottom of Lake Kivu to the upper end, we
had to make arrangements for a special trip of the little government
boat. This we did with the Belgian Administrator at Usumbura. Here,
as elsewhere, my experience with the administrative officers in these
outposts of the Belgian Congo was one of courtesy and effectiveness.
Halfway up the lake we stopped at the White Friars' Mission on the
west bank and heard the story of a gorilla recently killed in the
vicinity. This gorilla had come down into a banana grove not far from
the Mission. The chief of the village which owned the grove told his
followers to go out and chase the beast away, but not to go armed, for
the beast, in the superstition of the neighbourhood, had some sacred
attributes. The chief's subjects accordingly went forth with sticks to
drive out the gorilla, but he refused to be driven and resented the
disturbance enough to catch one of his tormentors and kill him. After
this the chief thought the gorilla less sacred and ordered his subjects
to take their spears with them and kill the animal.
I was not entirely clear about the veracity of this tale nor whether
it confirmed my theory about the gorilla or the more usual "ferocious"
theory. If the natives were willing to go out to chase the gorilla
away armed only with sticks, its reputation for ferocity could not be
great. On the other hand, the confidence in the animal's harmlessness
seemed to have been misplaced. But one fact did stand out. We were
getting into the real gorilla country. That quickened the blood. The
next day we went to the head of the lake.
A Belgian administrator and his wife who were on the boat with us left
us at Kissenyi at the northern end of Lake Kivu. They had a three
weeks' _trek_ before them, over the mountains to their own home and the
district over which the administrator had supervision. They had told
us many stories of gorillas in their section of the country, of the
gorillas becoming so aggressive that they had entered several villages
and driven out the natives, and they had urged us to go with them, but
we stuck to our original plan.
Here at Kissenyi was another Belgian station and here we met Mrs. T.
Alexander Barnes, the wife of a man whose directions we had received
from Sir Charles Ross. Barnes himself was in the interior hunting
gorillas for the British Museum. We sent a note to him because we did
not want to interfere with his hunting, and in the meanwhile set to
work to get our porters and guides ready. We decided it would be best
for the women to stay at Kissenyi for the time being and for me to push
on for the gorilla country. There were two reasons for this decision.
Mrs. Bradley had a little touch of fever and it was not advisable
for her to leave, and secondly, while I did not believe much in the
danger to us from the gorillas, I was greatly afraid that with a large
hunting party there might be equally little danger to them. So it was
determined that I should try to insure the Museum some specimens and if
possible get the first moving pictures of live wild gorillas ever taken.
It was a three days' march from Kissenyi to the White Friars' Mission
at Lulenga in the interior. This Mission I found was the base from
which Barnes operated and also, I learned, it was the base the Prince
of Sweden had used. It lay near the foot of Mt. Mikeno in a country of
volcanic origin. The White Friars themselves carry on here the teaching
of the Catholic religion to which they add the practice of medicine
and teaching of manual training. Some of the friars have been there as
long as seventeen years. At the Mission I was supplied with a guide. I
went a little way into the woods and was shown signs that gorillas had
fed there within a day or two. I was nervous and anxious. The long trip
was done. I was actually in the gorilla country. I was an alternating
current of eagerness to go and fear that I should find nothing.
The latter mood prevailed the next morning, for although I was ready to
start for the bamboos by daylight my guides, who were supposed to be in
camp, were nowhere to be found. I had to send for them, but we did not
get started before eight.
We trailed up through the forest into the bamboos, seeing signs
of elephant and buffalo--some of the signs being made the night
before--and I had to pinch myself occasionally to bring about the
realization that I was not hunting elephants on a miniature Kenia.
There was the same vegetation, except that the trees were smaller.
There were elephant trails, but only a few and with small tracks. There
were no great forest trees like those of Kenia, no bamboos seventy-five
feet high with five-inch stems. There was just little stuff, but still
it was all reminiscent of Kenia. One thing, the slopes were just as
steep and just as slippery, and the mud in the level places just as
deep and sticky as Kenia's.
Through this forest there are native trails or game trails almost
everywhere. We had followed these trails for about two hours up the
side of Mikeno when we came to a spot where there was a little mud
hole in the path. I'll never forget it. In that mud hole were the
marks of four great knuckles where the gorilla had placed his hand on
the ground. There is no other track like this on earth--there is no
other hand in the world so large. Nearest to it is the hand of the
chimpanzee, and he does not place his hand on the ground in the same
way. As I looked at that track I lost the faith on which I had brought
my party to Africa. Instinctively I took my gun from the gun boy. I
knew then the feeling Du Chaillu described in his quaint phrase, "My
feelings were really excited to a painful degree."
I had more thrill from the sight of this first track than from anything
that happened later. I forgot all about Kenia as the guide took up the
trail. Half an hour later we came upon other tracks, tracks made by
the feet of the beast, enormous human-looking tracks showing the marks
of a heel which no other living thing in the world but the gorilla and
man has. I gave the boy back the Springfield and took the big .475
elephant gun. And although the next bit of going was hard and wearing,
I carried the gun myself and trusted it to no gun boy.
We followed the trail for two hours, and I think a full half hour was
spent on all fours in true storybook fashion.
It led us through a clearing where bamboo cutters had been at work,
and we failed to pick it up again even though I offered the guides
a king's ransom (in their eyes) if they would show me the old boy
before dark. They were lackadaisical about the whole affair. I had
to give it up, and as I started for camp I realized that I was very
tired. Then we spent an hour going straight up the steepest possible
slope and down again following sounds that turned out to be made by
a troop of monkeys. When we reached camp at three o'clock in the
inevitable downpour of this season, I was "all in." The rain stopped,
and I called a conference of the guides with the result that I came to
the conclusion that they were entirely useless. They did not want to
go on at all. I broke camp immediately and started a two-and-a-half
hour march to the Mission not knowing just what my next move would
be--probably to hunt up some "bushmen" as guides. I reached the Mission
before sundown, in the usual rain, and went to bed.
The next morning I came around to the southwest of Mikeno, about three
hours from the Mission, to the village of the Sultan of Burunga who
came out to meet me. I explained my mission, and he immediately brought
forward from the group of natives who accompanied him two splendid
fellows who he said would guide me. There was a gleam of real hope in
the situation. We would camp at Burunga for the night and start up
the mountain in the morning. As I turned to go toward the indicated
camping place, a husky, handsome native came up in breathless haste,
and presented a note of recommendation as gun-bearer signed by T. A.
Barnes. He was promptly engaged and everything seemed bright again.
I was ready to start soon after daylight. I had felt so keen for the
coming of the light and had hoped for so much from the new gun-bearer
and guides. They had a cozy nest some distance from camp; they had
seemed so enthusiastic the day before and had promised an early start.
I waited and waited till my patience was exhausted. I feared another
farce so finally sent for them. They came smiling, confident, and keen
to be off. They insisted that no porters could go--it would not be
possible to carry cameras or any of the scientific kit where they were
going. It was up to them. I had put myself in their hands. I wanted to
at least _see_ a gorilla. I still doubted that there could be such a
thing in this part of the world--even though I _had_ seen its tracks.
We started down into that deep chasm to the west which the camp
overhung, then up to the other side--up and up--crawling and
scrambling, the guides cutting a way through the dense growth of
greenery, beating down and cursing the nettles which were everywhere.
On and on up to the crest of the ridge and then up along the "hogback"
until we were five hundred feet above camp--then at a level along
the western slope. I earnestly hoped they would go no higher; it was
grilling work. We were overlooking another chasm with a still higher
ridge on the far side. We stopped occasionally to scan the opposite
side. It was deathly still--there was rarely the slightest breeze.
Someone heard a sound across the _nullah_--very slight--but the guides
were suspicious. We went on, stopping now and then to look and listen.
The youngest guide, a boy of fourteen, perhaps, pointed to a spot
where he had seen a movement of the vegetation. We watched closely
for five minutes, then a great black head slowly appeared above the
green--rather indistinct, but there could be no doubt as to what it was.
It was my first glimpse of a wild gorilla. It has left an everlasting
impression, for it was so totally different from anything I had
expected. In a solid wall of vivid green a great scraggly black head
rose slowly into view where it remained motionless for perhaps a half
minute, giving me time to view it with field glasses so that I was able
to make out the features. I was actually seeing a live wild gorilla.
At the end of a long journey I was face to face with the creature I
sought. I took the gun with slight intention of chancing a shot at
that distance unless there should be opportunity for very careful and
deliberate aim. The shaggy head was withdrawn--then a glimpse of the
great silvery back and we saw no more. We went into the beastly chasm
and up again to where he had been.
[Illustration: THE LONE MALE OF KARISIMBI
Shot by Mr. Bradley]
[Illustration: THE HEAD OF MR. AKELEY'S FIRST GORILLA]
The guides were too eager; I had constantly to hold them back while I
stopped to breathe. We took up his trail. He led us on to the crest
of _that_ ridge and then along the "hogback" till we were about one
thousand feet above camp. Then as the trail swung along the other slope
at the level we heard one short roar ahead of us. The thrill of it! I
had actually heard the roar of a bull gorilla! It seemed perhaps two
hundred yards ahead. I thought it indicated alarm and that he would
lead us a merry chase. We continued along the trail slowly, for it led
along a slope so steep that without the rank vegetation we could not
have stuck on.
We had gone not more than one hundred and fifty yards from the time we
heard the roar, with the gun-bearer just ahead and the second gun and
guides behind. The gun-bearer stopped, looking up into the dense tangle
above us. It was still as death--no sound of movement could I hear.
The gun was in his left hand; with his right he clung to the bank just
beside him. Behind there was a four-inch tree between me and a straight
drop of twenty feet, then a slide of fifty feet to the edge of a chasm
more than 200 feet deep. I leaned my back against this tree that I
might straighten up for a better look. The gun-bearer turned slowly and
passed me the .475. As I took it I heard that roar again--thirty feet
away, almost directly above. One plunge and down we would all go three
hundred feet to the bottom. Without the support of the sapling at my
back it would not be humanly possible to fire the big gun upward from
that trail. There was a deal of comfort in the feel of that old gun
even though theoretically I did not fear gorillas; it had stood by me
in more than one close place. After the roar there was silence for an
instant--not a branch stirred--then a crashing rush along at a level,
above and past me--another roar--back again to where he had been. I
had seen nothing but a swaying of the mass of vegetation right down to
our feet. He stopped where he had been at first. Silence. Through the
green against the sky I seemed to make out a denser mass--the outline
of his head. I aimed just below and his fourth roar was broken by the
roar of the .475. A terrific crashing plunge of three or four hundred
pounds of beast, he struck the trail eight feet from me. The gun was on
him. There was a soft nose in the left barrel ready for him, but it was
unnecessary. The slight ledge of trail did not stop him in the least.
He crashed on down over and over, almost straight downward toward the
edge of the chasm.
My heart sank for I realized that if he went to the bottom I would
stand little chance of being able to recover him and my first gorilla
would have been killed in vain. Overhanging the edge of the chasm there
was a lone tree, two feet in diameter, and the gorilla in his plunge
struck this tree, rolled up on its leaning trunk, and back again to
its base, where he came to rest with his head hanging over on one side
of the tree and his feet on the other. Had there been a single movement
in him he must have gone on. The solid from the right barrel had done
its work well--in just above the heart through the æorta, through the
spine, and out through the right shoulder blade. As he came crashing
down I somehow felt confident that all was well. I have never had a
more thrilling experience, but I've been much more frightened many
times. The gun-bearer was a trump. He was the worst scared black man
I ever saw. If I looked as frightened as he, I am thankful no movie
camera was on the job. You see, he was between me and the beast when he
struck the trail eight feet away.
I had left the cameras and tools in camp to be sent for if they were
needed. As the beast lay, a camera could not be used. I could do
nothing in sketches worth while, so I sent for nothing. I set to work
with my jack-knife and one of the boys had a native iron knife and with
these two tools we skinned and skeletonized the gorilla. As we turned
him over it kept all hands busy to avoid losing the balance of the
beast and ourselves. It took more than a half hour to get the skin and
skeleton back to where I had shot from--a human rope stunt. The boys
all worked beautifully. Then we had the long, hard _trek_ back to camp.
All hands in camp (forty odd) got a present--enough so that they
were all happy, although that did not take much. I was busy all the
following day with skin and skeleton, making such studies as were
possible. Everything was set for a real hunt on the next day, but I
could not hope for a more thrilling and dramatic episode than the
taking of my first gorilla.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Reprinted through the courtesy of Harper & Bros., publishers of Du
Chaillu's book, "Equatorial Africa."]