ON THE RHINO’S PATH
That assurance was fulfilled, for when the Hampton party arrived on
the scene tall warriors armed with spears and with clappers for
producing a particularly atrocious racket already had spread in a
wide circle around the marsh.
Mabele who had preceded them came running up with the intelligence
that a huge rhinoceros, the largest seen in that district for a long
time, had been observed entering the marsh the preceding night.
Although a plains animal, yet it resembles its river-loving brother,
the hippopotamus, in its regard for cool damp spots. And this marsh
was a noted haunt of the rhinos.
Many acres in extent, the marsh stretched away ahead in an expanse
of tall reeds and low trees. And although the boys knew at least two
score beaters were converging toward the plain edging the marsh
where they had taken their station, yet they could not see them. Now
and then, however, the sound of a clapper could be heard. Nor was
there any sign of the rhino.
Three motion picture cameras had been brought along, so as to
photograph every phase of the hunt. And Niellsen, Jack and Frank
were to operate them. Bob, the best shot of the three boys, and Mr.
Hampton constituted the armed hunters of the party. They were not to
kill the monster until good pictures had been obtained first of the
rhino emerging from the swamp and of the beaters converging upon his
lair.
As the most expert of the operators, Niellsen had elected to go into
the marsh with his camera and follow up the beaters. And Mr. Hampton
accompanied him as his protector. This left the three boys alone in
the plain.
It was a morning of blazing sunshine and, early though the hour, the
day already had become uncomfortably warm. Frank suffered
especially, as he lugged his big camera to a vantage point some
distance from Jack so that they would be able to take in the scene
from various angles.
“If the rhino charges you, what will you do?” asked Bob, carrying
Frank’s film box.
“I’m going to run,” said Frank. “What d’you think?”
“Doesn’t a sense of duty to your employers fill your breast?”
demanded Bob, as if in surprise. “I should think you’d stick on the
burning deck and let the rhino charge right over you in order to get
a picture of him in action.”
“You’ve got another think coming,” replied Frank, coming to a halt
and adjusting the tripod. “Guess this is far enough away from Jack.”
“But just think,” persisted Bob, “of what a gorgeous picture it
would make. Imagine sitting in a theatre at home and suddenly seeing
a huge rhino come lumbering toward you, as if he were going to
charge right out of the screen and into the audience.”
“Talk to Jack,” said Frank coolly. “I can’t hear you. Whoo, it’s
hot. Wish the battle would begin.”
Close at hand in the marsh, as if his words had been a signal, a
tremendous uproar of cries broke out interspersed with the racheting
sound of the clappers in the hands of the native beaters.
“Better get ready,” advised Bob. “That sounds pretty close.”
Frank leaped to his feet, all eagerness, the lassitude of the moment
before forgotten, and took his place at the camera.
“See anything yet?” he called.
“No,” said Bob. “And I don’t hear any shots, either. So I suppose
Jack’s father isn’t potting away. But what an infernal din those
beaters are putting up.”
The noise died down, became more remote, and Frank relaxed his tense
attitude at the camera, while Bob once more laid down his rifle.
“Huh. Guess the rhino headed for another direction.”
“I suppose so,” said Frank. “Certainly the beaters are withdrawing.”
Once more they were alone on the sunny plain with its tall buffalo
grass, alone except for Jack whose head and chest only could be seen
above the tall grass some distance away. He waved a hand and they
replied similarly, but he was too far away to make himself heard
except by shouting and so did not call to them.
Perhaps five minutes had elapsed during which no immediate sounds
except the drone of huge flies and the tiny hum of insects broke the
somnolent stillness. The boys spoke now and then in low voices, but
in the main were silent. Bob’s keen glance played continually along
the edge of the marsh, but Frank had taken seat on the film box and
was sunk in revery.
Suddenly Bob’s hand gripped his shoulder, and Bob’s voice whispered
low:
“Sh. Here he comes.”
Frank sprang to his feet and gazed in the direction indicated by
Bob.
A huge brute with dark, dun-colored hide had parted the reeds of the
marsh not fifty yards away. He stood sideways at the edge of the
plain, formidable horned head lifted as if listening to the distant
sounds of the beaters.
“He eluded them in some way,” whispered Frank. “What a picture.”
Swinging the lens of the camera about until he brought the rhino
into focus, he began to turn the crank.
The rhino abandoned his listening attitude and, dropping his head,
began to move slowly forward on a line bringing him midway between
Jack and Frank. Although his legs were short and ponderous, so huge
was his body that it towered above the buffalo grass which parted
before him like water before a scow.
Over him fluttered a perfect cloud of small birds, like a swarm of
bees hiving on a bough. They made continual darts at the huge back,
picking off ticks and performing his toilet for him. The boys had
heard this phenomenon described, but had never witnessed it, the
only rhinos they had seen heretofore being those captives in Zoos.
Now and again as he moved slowly along, the huge beast would lift
his head. And at such times he gave the watching, spell-bound boys
the impression that he was sniffing the air as if in search of his
arch-enemy, man.
Realizing that should the rhino become aware of Jack’s presence and
charge him, his comrade would be without protection as he had the
sole rifle of the outfit, Bob crouching low began making his way to
a point in the rear of the rhino where he could afford protection to
Jack as well as Frank.
And well it was that he took this precaution. For a time the rhino
continued his slow advance on the line which would avoid both boys,
stopping occasionally to repeat his gesture of lifting his head as
if to sniff. Bob suddenly recalled that, although the day was calm,
still there was a bit of breeze blowing, and that it came from
Jack’s direction. Frank, therefore, was to leeward of the rhino and
fairly safe from detection, as the great beast is short-sighted. But
Jack was to windward and might be detected.
Remembering what he had heard of rhinos to the effect that they are
short-tempered and fearless, Bob hurried the more and presently
found himself in the broad trail beaten down by the rhino and not
far behind him. Ahead, not twenty yards away, he could see the
grotesque, broad quarters of the beast.
“The thinnest spot in the rhino’s armor is immediately behind the
foreleg, and that is his most vulnerable spot,” Mr. Hampton had said
on parting.
Bob remembered. He remembered, too, that the high-powered rifle he
carried was guaranteed to shoot a steel-jacketted bullet that would
penetrate even rhino hide. And the range was close enough. He
breathed more freely, now that he had come to such close quarters.
His momentary panic at thought of Jack’s danger began to disappear.
Anyhow, he said to himself, the rhino appeared likely to stalk clear
out of the picture, without ever spotting the presence of his
photographers to either side.
But Bob was mistaken. Suddenly the monster swerved to the right
without warning and charged with amazing swiftness directly toward
Jack who was not more than thirty yards away. His great head jerked
at every lurch.
Bob started running through the grass at a tangent which would place
him close to the beast before the latter could arrive at Jack’s
post. He cast a glance in Jack’s direction, expecting to see the
latter pick up his camera and decamp, but was amazed and alarmed to
see Jack busily grinding away.
“Great guns,” he muttered, “that rhino must be charging directly
into the camera. Why doesn’t Jack run?”
But Jack continued at his post, and the truth was, as Bob dashing
forward in alarm suspected, that in making the most of his wonderful
opportunity to obtain a film of the rhino charging head-on he had
forgotten for a moment the important consideration of looking out
for his own safety.