OUT FOR A RHINO
Here the expedition settled down to the serious business of shooting
big game with a camera, while the days insensibly rolled into weeks.
For Chief Ungaba and his people were friendly and, as the park-like
country with its lofty hills, great stretches of thorn bush and
spreading forests comparatively free of underbrush, abounded in
game, Mr. Hampton decided to use the village of Ungaba as a base of
operations from which side expeditions could be sent out.
Under the tutelage of Niellsen, the boys had developed into
excellent motion picture photographers. And whether they lay
concealed for days in brush shelters, awaiting the opportunity to
film animals coming to a water hole to drink, or whether they
crawled for hours along game trails, dragging both rifle and big
camera with them, they returned not only with their enthusiasm
undampened but also with many feet of film which they felt certain
would prove on development to be amply worth all the effort
expended.
That these trips were not without incident goes without saying. Time
and again they had narrow escapes, as when Jack on one occasion
crawled around a rock with a view to film buffalo feeding in a
grassy depression at the base of the hillside, only to find a
particularly deadly snake, the mamba, coiled on the sunny side just
at the place where he would next have placed his hand. Drawing back
with lightning quickness, he drew his revolver and shot the snake.
The sound of the shot sent the buffalo tearing and lumbering away
and spoiled his chance of getting a picture of them, a chance which
he had spent a full hour in acquiring. But he saved his life.
Many weary hours, too, were spent in stalking animals, so that the
obtaining of each separate bit of film was an adventure in itself.
The common jungle grass retarded progress and its pollen getting
into their eyes set up an irritation which half-blinded them. They
were never without at least one member of the party suffering from
swollen eyes. Anticipating this, however, they had come provided
with eye wash for the alleviation of distress. It was the dry
season, and they wore only the lightest of clothing, consisting of
sleeveless shirt and knee length pants, “like Boy Scouts,” Bob
remarked. Consequently, they suffered much from the scratches of
various other varieties of grass with barbs, of the tall plumed
reeds with stiff leaves which cut like a knife and, especially, from
the “cow itch.” This latter name they gave a plant having seed pods
covered with fine hairs which pierced even through clothing and set
up an excruciating itching.
On the whole, however, the hardships were less than they had
expected to encounter, and a hot bath in a collapsible tub on the
return from a picture-taking expedition went far to make life
bearable. Moreover, they had the consolation of piling up thousands
of feet of film which they felt assured would be invaluable.
“I can just see the kids sitting in the motion picture house when
some of these scenes flash on the screen,” said Bob, one night,
after returning from a particularly trying expedition upon which
eland, giraffes, buffalo, hyenas and adjutant birds had been filmed.
“Only we need some more thrilling stuff.”
“I should think you’d have gotten enough thrills on that runaway
raft to last you the rest of your life,” said Niellsen, smoking his
pipe on the opposite side of the camp fire. “Just the same, what you
say about our films of animal life is true. I wonder,” he added,
turning toward Mr. Hampton seated on a camp chair at his shoulder,
“whether we couldn’t persuade Chief Ungaba to organize a rhinoceros
hunt. I have a hunch we’d get a thrill out of that.”
“Good idea,” approved Jack. “Let’s try it.” After some further
discussion, it was agreed that the next morning all should wait on
Chief Ungaba and prefer their request. Accordingly, they turned in
and slept soundly and at an early hour arose and entered the village
which lay not far away across an open meadow. Whenever camp was
pitched at an African village, the party was careful to locate some
distance away, both because the odors of these villages frequently
become offensive and to avoid possible friction arising between the
native populace and the hearers from alien tribes.
The village was up and astir, and as the boys passed along the main
street toward the central square where Chief Ungaba’s hut was
located they found their interest excited by sights which never
became stale. Cooking fires were going outside the mud-walled,
thatched-roofed huts, and over them the Kavirondo women with their
“tails” were busied preparing breakfast for their lords and masters
who still lolled on sleeping mats within or else yawned sleepily at
door openings, watching the whites. These so-called “tails” worn by
the women never failed to amuse, and many a hearty laugh had they
given the boys. Made of plaited grass and tied to a string about the
waist, they fall down behind, and denote the status of the wearer.
Little girls wear little ones, engaged girls slightly larger ones,
and married matrons the largest of all. As loin cloths comprise
practically the only clothing worn by men, women or children, the
tribesmen looked as if, said Bob, “they were all ready for a
plunge.” Some, however, considered themselves well dressed, indeed,
for their bodies were smeared with red and white clays, producing an
effect which they considered decorative in the extreme but which the
boys regarded as particularly ghastly.
Chief Ungaba sitting at the door of his hut was not an especially
kinglike object as he knuckled his eyes sleepily. He failed to note
their approach at first because of the fact that he was leaning
sideways as if to hear without being seen while listening to sounds
of high shrill voices raised in altercation within the hut.
“What’s going on, I wonder,” asked Bob of his companions.
Mr. Hampton laughed heartily. “The chief’s wives are hard at it,” he
said. “They are having their regular morning squabble. Poor man, he
has six first wives, and they lead him a dog’s life. He is chief
everywhere except in his own house.”
Scarcely had he finished speaking than a piercing shriek cut through
the clamor of angry voices, followed by another and another. Then a
sobbing young woman ran headlong from the hut, clutching her hair,
while behind her three older women crowded each other in the
doorway. They stared triumphantly until the younger woman
disappeared amidst the adjacent huts and then withdrew.
“The old ones kicked the best looking one out,” said Niellsen,
grinning a little bit. “Well, age has to protect itself. Now that
they’ve banded together to get rid of her, however, they’ll probably
fall to fighting amongst themselves.”
The noisy quarrelling subsided, however, as if by magic, and once
more peace reigned in Chief Ungaba’s household. The lord and master
who had cowered away from the door as if trying to squeeze into the
wall, when the fight was carried into the open, now, upon the
withdrawal of the women, stood up and stretched his arms wide in a
yawn. The boys couldn’t repress a laugh, but they smothered it with
their hands so as not to let the sound reach his ears.
Then, as Mr. Hampton approached, the chief for the first time became
cognizant of their presence, and a smile of welcome broke over his
broad, full-lipped, humorous face.
“A quarrelsome woman is worse than a hyena, and five are enough to
defend a town,” he said. “My white brother will understand.”
He spoke in the Kavirondo tongue, but Mr. Hampton and the boys had
been studying the simple language with the aid of their interpreter
Mabele, and during their lengthy stay they had acquired a rough
working knowledge of it which made the chief’s words understandable.
“Chief Ungaba speaks words of wisdom,” answered Mr. Hampton,
gravely, but with twinkling eye.
And the chief, observing the twinkle, laughed outright.
Thereupon, Mr. Hampton broached the subject of the proposed
rhinoceros hunt, to which the chief readily agreed. He was willing
enough to lend his warriors for the purpose of beating up the reeds
of a nearby marsh, as Mr. Hampton promised him in return the carcass
of the slain beast. The high-powered rifles of the Hampton party
would prove far more efficient weapons against the tough hide armor
of the monster than the bows or spears of the villagers. And the
obtaining of fresh meat was always a consideration. Indeed, there
would be a great feast in the village.
Negotiations concluded, the whites returned to camp with the
assurance that on the edge of the reedy marsh some two miles west of
the village in the middle of the afternoon they would find Chief
Ungaba’s men awaiting them for the hunt.