BIG GAME SHOOTING, 1887
Start from Berbera—The first koodoo—First herd of elephants
seen; elephant bagged with a single shot—Fresh start
with another caravan—Waller’s gazelle bagged—Mandeira;
delightful headquarters—The Issutugan river—Herd of elephants
found—Elephant hunt at Jalélo, and death of a large bull—Our
night camp—Camp at Sobát—Elephants heard trumpeting at
night—Interesting scene; a herd of sixty elephants—Two
elephants bagged—Camp at Hembeweina; lions round camp—A
herd of elephants in the Jalélo reeds—Long and unsuccessful
hunt—Tusks stolen by a caravan—Lions roaring round the
Hembeweina camp at night—Visit of Shiré Shirmáki and thirty
horsemen—Interesting scene—A row in camp—News of a solitary
bull at Eil-Danan—Exciting hunt; horsemen manœuvring a vicious
elephant, and death of the bull—Return to Berbera.
In January 1887, after having previously made six exploring expeditions
to the interior of Somáliland, I started upon my first sporting trip
after big game, my caravan consisting of eight Somális with four camels.
Marching thirty-five miles inland from Berbera, we pitched our first
shooting camp at Hulkabóba, and the following day we ascended the Golis
Range by the Sheikh Pass, halting in Mirso, a ledge two miles wide,
situated two thousand feet above our last camp, and about half-way up
the mountain, where there is excellent pasturage. We here formed our
bivouac beside a spring of clear water, and in the sandy torrent beds
which formed its approaches we found many lion and koodoo tracks. Before
leaving the coast I had sent two Somális on horseback to the cedar
forests which clothe the flat top of Gólis to search for fresh elephant
tracks. On this evening they arrived to report having found no recent
sign, so I decided to go to Sheikh, twelve miles to the east, and thence
to try Wagar Mountain.
At about 3 P.M. we loaded up and started on our march. The path led over
rocky country along the side of Gólis, through thick belts of jungle and
across sandy torrent beds, which in many places showed the fresh tracks
of lion and antelope, but not of elephants. It was very hot and the sharp
stones were fearfully trying to the camels, nevertheless we had to push
on in order to reach water while daylight lasted; we failed, and night
overtaking us, we were compelled to camp on the hillside without it.
Next morning our march took us through a maze of ravines, about the
worst ground I have ever traversed with baggage animals; then descending
abruptly to Lower Sheikh, we found a plot of green turf bordering a
stream and surrounded on all sides by steep mountains. The Sheikh
Pass takes its name from the tomb of a sheikh built in the form of
a sugar-loaf plastered with a white substance, which forms a very
conspicuous landmark at the top of the pass. While forming camp at Lower
Sheikh we were passed by a large caravan, which was fording the stream on
its way with hides, gum, feathers, and other commodities, from the Ogádén
country to Berbera, and soon afterwards my trackers arrived with the
welcome news that they had struck the path of a herd of elephants,—a bull
and four cows,—two marches to the south of the sheikh’s grave. They had
followed and marked down the elephants to a jungle where they were likely
to stay, at the back of Wagar, and they further reported the bull to be a
fine tusker. I engaged three horsemen from among the Habr Gerhajis, whose
pastures were at Lower Sheikh, to take up the tracks, and on sighting the
herd to send one of their number back to guide us to the spot; meanwhile
I waited at Lower Sheikh, looking about for koodoo. Soon afterwards my
people led in a shepherd boy, who had seen a bull and cow koodoo retire
up one of the steep gorges of the Sheikh valley to take their noon rest
under a large tree. A hot walk along the banks of the Sheikh river, at
this time a mere brook, brought us to the karia where the boy had first
seen the koodoos. On the left bank of the river a gorge ran up into the
mountains, and opposite to its mouth stood the karia, a circle of half a
dozen poor-looking huts.
I waited here while my Midgán hunter and the boy went to the foot of the
hills; soon they reported that the position of the game was unchanged.
The koodoos were still under the large tree at the head of the gorge some
four or five hundred feet above us. The only way to get at them was to
go up another gorge parallel to the one which contained the tree, and to
leeward of it. On nearing the tree, after a tedious climb, I happened to
crack a stick, and immediately there followed a crash and stampede below
us. All noise soon ceased, but I caught sight of something moving down
the gorge in front. Stooping cautiously, I looked through a thorn-bush,
placing the muzzle of my express within the network of twigs; after a
second or two I could make out one large brown spiral horn and a bit of
striped skin lying somewhere over the shoulder, so taking a quick aim
a little below this, I touched the trigger and a beautiful bull koodoo
rolled twenty feet down into the torrent bed in the centre of the gorge,
and was stopped by a large mass of rock. The cow galloped madly away,
loosening a shower of stones with her hoofs, and soon there came from
below the sound of two shots from a Snider as she raced past my camelman,
Núr Osman, who had been posted at the mouth of the gorge; but crossing
the Sheikh stream, she took to the hills on the opposite side of the
valley and escaped. Leaving orders at the karia for a camel to follow us
with the koodoo meat we started home.
The return walk in the evening down the valley was as wild and
picturesque as one could wish. Núr Osman and the Midgán led the way,
carrying the head and skin of my first koodoo, at which I could not help
looking admiringly from time to time, for it was a great prize. Our path
led close to the stream, over dark slippery rocks, with here and there
a plot of rich turf running down to the water’s edge. At our backs the
sun was setting behind the crest of Golis, and in front rose gigantic
precipices, the hills having been quarried out by the river into a deep
canon. As it grew dusk my reflections were disturbed by a wart-hog boar,
which had come down to drink in the cool stream after a hot day, but I
had no reason for firing at him, his tusks being poor.
The next day one of the three horsemen came back to tell me that he had
marked down the herd of elephants, and that it was being watched by his
companions. He carried in his hand pieces of half-chewed aloes with the
saliva still damp upon them, which the elephants had torn up a few hours
ago. Leaving most of the baggage behind in the camp at Lower Sheikh, and
posting Núr Osman and another of the men in charge, I mounted the Sheikh
Pass the next morning at sunrise, accompanied by two camels and five men.
At the top of the pass I shot a spotted hyæna, to the delight of the
mullahs living at the village of Guldu Hamed close by, as it had stolen
several of their sheep.
Half an hour before sunset two horsemen came racing over the plain from
the Wagar direction, and poising their spears circled round us at full
speed. They pulled up shouting “_Mót!_” (Hail!) and reported the latest
tidings about the herd. I learned the melancholy news that it had got
away in the night. My men, however, tried to comfort me by saying,
“_Insh’ Allah Bukera_” (Please God, to-morrow). We camped at an empty
zeríba in a strip of bush near Soksodi, where there was firewood and
water, intending to search for the elephants next day. We lit a roaring
fire and threw ourselves down on the sand to sleep. At dawn, while
my men were preparing coffee, I took a stroll round camp, and saw by
several broad footprints in the sand that a large lion had been prowling
round our bivouac all night Later on my men pointed out old tracks of
elephants, broken branches, and aloe clumps, indicating the course of
a herd which must have passed two or three days before. I sent all the
men into the covert to look for fresh tracks, but at noon they returned
unsuccessful.
[Illustration]
At two in the afternoon some shepherds came to water a flock of sheep
on their way to the Berbera market, and they said that they had passed
a herd of elephants only an hour ago in a valley to the south. On my
asking for a guide they refused, hoping to get me to pay heavily for
their information, so I shouldered my double four-bore rifle and started
with the two Midgán trackers on the back trail of the sheep, hoping to
find the elephants without a guide. The path led past two small sandstone
hills, and we then entered a sloping valley, down the centre of which ran
a sand-river bordered by dense jungle. Heavy masses of _armo_ creeper
draped the branches of the trees, and as we advanced fragments of
creeper, which had evidently been torn down by the elephants, lay across
our path.
We soon came to the fresh tracks of a herd which must have passed early
in the day, and the Midgáns began to follow the footprints with great
interest. The signs became every moment more distinct; at one spot
the elephants had taken a long halt, rolling in the sand; and after
half an hour’s tracking we found evidences that we were quite close to
them. Sitting down with one of the Midgáns, I sent the other up a small
hill to look around; he soon returned, whispering “_Maródi, Maródi!_”
(elephants). Having joined us, he shaded his eyes to have another look,
and then stretching out his hand, he pointed to two reddish brown spots
among the lower branches of a clump of high trees on the farther side
of a glade. As we looked six large elephants and four calves walked
solemnly by twos or in single file out into the open. Even in this moment
of excitement, for I had never seen a wild elephant before, I noticed
the huge ears of the African species, the high fore-quarters and quick,
active pace, and a beautiful sight it was! Swinging their heads from
side to side, they crossed the glade and entered a clump of trees. Here
they stopped and began feeding about, the swaying and snapping of the
branches, and the peculiar low rumbling which they give out when feeding,
indicating where they stood, though we could not see them.
The Midgáns, who were new to the work of attacking elephants on foot,
did not quite like the prospect of going with me into the middle of the
herd, so taking the four-bore, and telling them to watch from a low
hill, I began creeping into the jungle alone. In thick forests the chief
difficulty of elephant hunting consists in picking out the one with the
best tusks, and then getting close up to it without being winded or seen
by the others.
I threw up some sand to try the direction of the wind, and then advanced
very silently for a hundred yards into the thickest jungle. I heard the
rustle of some creepers in front of me, and then peeping through the
underwood I saw three elephants fanning themselves with their ears under
a very large camel-thorn-tree, whose branches rose to a flat fan shape
high above their heads. It was from this thorn-tree that one of them
had just been pulling down the creepers. From my left came the rumbling
sound made by a fourth elephant, but I could see nothing there. I had
on entering the jungle unconsciously walked into the very centre of the
herd, and there was now no time to be lost in making my choice, because
one of them might at any moment get down wind of me and sound the alarm.
The elephants I had seen were standing about forty yards away, one being
a little apart from the other two, close to a tree, and I could see that
a pair of tusks protruded from its lips. I advanced to within fifteen
yards of the foremost one, which looked quietly at me for some moments,
its trunk feeling the wind, as if wondering whether I might or might not
be the stump of a tree. Raising my rifle I fired at the centre of the
temple, half-way between the eye and the ear. The smoke obscured my view,
but I the next instant could hear the jungle stirring all round me as
the elephants made off. Then every living thing seemed to have left the
place. As the smoke cleared away it disclosed, fifteen yards off, the
body of the elephant sitting motionless with its knees tucked under its
chest, a single hole in the temple showing where the bullet had entered.
This turned out to be the largest cow in the herd, and I afterwards
found, by a thorough examination of the tracks in the neighbourhood, that
there was not a single bull.
Satisfied with my success so far as it went, I did not follow the herd,
and in answer to my whistle the Midgáns came up, astonished to see that a
single bullet had done the business. The camels were brought up, and we
formed our bivouac by the dead elephant, and at dusk the tusks lay beside
the camp-fire. Next day we marched to Sheikh, and found the camp safe,
and in the evening began our march back to Berbera.
Two months later I set out again, beginning by a dhow voyage of one
hundred and fifty miles across the Gulf of Aden. I hired four camels and
two camelmen at five rupees a day, or about £10 for a whole month.[14] I
also engaged a caravan leader, three servants, two Somáli trackers, and
a Midgán, not a large party to go into an unknown country with. To guard
against the possible attack by robbers at a time when the English even
at the coast were very little known, I lent my three servants a Snider
carbine each. The remainder of the men had their spears and shields, and
the Midgán, Adan, carried his bow and arrows. My “butler,” Núr Osman, had
been a camelman in the Nile expedition for the relief of Gordon, and had
become a very fair shot.
By the light of a full moon we started across the Berbera Maritime Plain,
going south-west; and at 1 A.M. we reached a small tree called “Nasíya”
(the resting-place), sixteen miles from the coast. Early in the night we
passed several karias of trading caravans which were halted round Berbera
for the trading season, each circle of mat huts pouring out a crowd of
Midgán dogs to give us a surly salute. At the last karia I fired at a
spotted hyæna, but missed him. At Nasíya we threw ourselves down on the
sand, and unloading the camels took a short sleep to refresh ourselves
for the work yet before us, and at 4 A.M. we pushed on again towards
the first water, Deregódleh, which is twenty-two miles from Berbera.
As we advanced the bare-looking Maritime Plain began to break up into
stony watercourses and thorny bush. We passed, to our right, a detached
flat-topped hill of trap formation called Sýene, part of the first low
Maritime Range.
Near Sýene I saw two buck Sœmmering’s gazelles, looking large and white
by the light of the rising sun, which was at my back. The wind was
blowing from the front, and I made a careful stalk, but on raising my
head from the last watercourse the _aoul_ had removed themselves three
hundred yards distant, and were stopping to gaze. They had seen my camels
coming along. Then with whisking tails they trotted away, and I never saw
them again. Very nearly related to this gazelle is the Cape springbuck.
Sœmmering’s gazelle carries a pair of graceful, lyre-shaped black horns,
about fourteen inches in length and well ringed. When still scarcely
clear of Sýene, catching a glimpse of dark red in a watercourse two
hundred yards to my left, I walked towards it, put up a Waller’s gazelle,
and bagged him with my Martini-Henry rifle.
At 10 A.M. we reached Deregódleh, a watercourse which has cut its way
deep into the limestone rock of the interior plain and hollowed it out
into caves, in which sheep, when waiting at the wells, take shelter from
the sun. There is some very low cover on each bank, in which hares and
the little _Sakáro_ antelopes are to be found.
We left Deregódleh and marched to Mandeira, a delightful headquarters.
It is a valley about three miles wide, under Gán Libah mountain, a bluff
of the great Gólis Range. The mountains overlooking this valley rise to
about six thousand feet above sea-level. The high country beyond them
is called Ogo, the interior and Maritime Plains below them are called
Guban. The Ogo climate is much cooler than that of Guban, and the grass
and jungle more luxuriant. At Mandeira, all along the foot of Gólis, is
more or less dense forest of the large _gudá_ thorn-tree, with a thick
undergrowth of aloes and thorny bushes. Here are found leopards, lesser
koodoo, Walleri, and wart-hog. The pugs of an occasional lion may be
seen, and in the gorges of the mountain is to be found the large koodoo,
with his splendid spiral horns, and the _Alakud_ or klipspringer. In the
stony interior plains between Gólis and the Maritime Range are found
oryx, wild ass, the ubiquitous Walleri, the lowland gazelles, and a few
shy ostriches. Spotted hyænas are common, striped hyænas rare.
We camped near the water at Mandeira at midday, and found the valley
occupied by a section of the Habr Gerhajis tribe, who were friendly.
While here I shot a buck lesser koodoo and missed a splendid bull koodoo,
which crossed a ledge of rock two hundred feet above us. The buck lesser
koodoo is, I think, the most beautiful wild animal in Somáliland; his
coat is fairly long, of a French gray colour in old males, and nicely
marked with white bands across the body. The horns are spiral, and about
twenty-five inches long, and he has a bushy tail tipped with white. When
disturbed he goes away in great bounds, flying the bushes and clumps of
aloes, and presenting a most difficult shot.
[Illustration: “FLYING THE BUSHES.”]
Hearing that there were elephants near Little Harar (Hargeisa), we
went on to Gulánleh, about twenty miles short of that place and
ninety south-west of Berbera. At Gulánleh the country became open and
undulating, the Gólis Range having ceased, and Guban rising gradually
to the level of Ogo. Hargeisa is situated in the district between Ogo
and Guban, which is called Ogo-Gudan.[15] The country immediately north
of Hargeisa is called the Damel Plain, a vast plateau of rolling ground
covered with gravel or red earth, and low thorny scrub, and traversed by
tributaries of the Issutugan river-bed. The Issutugan is a sand-river at
places from one to five hundred yards wide, which, rising near Hargeisa,
cuts through the Maritime Range and sends its freshets over the Maritime
Plain to reach the sea near Bulhár or Géri. The tributaries are generally
dry and sandy, with patches of dense reeds, and are bordered by belts of
high tree jungle about a mile wide. These reeds, generally ten feet high,
were at that time infested by lions, which did not appear in the daytime,
but left plenty of tracks in the sand, showing where they had prowled up
and down the river-beds at night. In May, June, and December elephants
used to come down these rivers to feed on the creepers and aloes of the
forest belts along their banks, often leaving the shelter of the trees to
stand in the patches of reeds.
I had determined to make Gulánleh my headquarters for elephant-hunting,
and to send my two Somáli trackers, who were mounted, together with a
Habr Gerhajis horseman who had joined us at Mandeira, into all the large
elephant jungles within twenty miles. Meanwhile I remained at Gulánleh,
going out shooting every day. Here I was lucky enough to bag two very
fine bull oryx and two cows, all four having long, straight horns. A few
buck Walleri and plateau gazelles followed, and on the second day of my
stay we put up nine ostriches, there being two cocks and seven hens.
I fired at them with the Martini-Henry at three hundred yards as they
sailed away, but only knocked up the dust around them. Three times we
fell in with ostriches, but always found their vision too good for us.
They look like gigantic fowls as they go streaming away over the plains.
At Gulánleh we also saw a herd of wild asses, which halted fifty yards
away to gaze at us. We, however, held our fire, not considering them fair
game. They were splendid animals, very well marked with stripes on the
legs.
On 13th May my patience was rewarded by the arrival of the three
horsemen, with the news that they had found a large herd of elephants
at Jalélo, about twelve miles away to the west; so we packed a few
blankets, axes, tinned provisions, and other necessaries on a camel,
and filling my pockets with dates, I set out at 8 A.M. for the Jalélo
covert, accompanied by two mounted trackers, the Midgán, and two other
men, leaving the Gulánleh camp in the charge of Núr Osman. The forest
at Jalélo consists chiefly of the heavy _gudá_ timber bordering the
Hembeweina river, which lower down is called Issutugan. There are
extensive tracts of reeds in the river-bed, and these are so dense it is
hard work forcing a path through them, and once inside, it is impossible
to see anything except at a distance of a few feet. After a hot march
we struck the Hembeweina river at Jalélo, and, sending the mounted
trackers and all the other men to hunt up the elephants, I sat under a
wild date-palm, and lunched off sardines, dates, and the contents of my
water-bottle.
The midday sun had been fearfully hot, and I was just dozing off to sleep
under the grateful shade of the date-palm, when my head tracker, Hussein
Debeli, came bounding up in a wonderful state of excitement, brandishing
his big stabbing spear and dancing round me in circles. I knew at once
that his news was good, and, after a pause to take breath, he said he
had suddenly seen a very large bull elephant in the bed of the river
only half a mile below my palm-tree. Packing everything quickly on the
camel, and leaving orders for it to be brought on slowly after us, I
took Hussein Debeli as guide, and shouldering my four-bore rifle, which
weighed over twenty pounds, I started off to look up the elephant. As we
rounded a spur he came into full view, walking quickly down the centre of
the river-bed below us, turning his head from side to side as he swung
along, his great ears sticking out at right angles like studding-sails.
He looked rather disturbed in his mind, and as a breeze was blowing from
us down the river towards him, he had no doubt winded us, or one of the
men who had been sent to look for him.
Going as fast as we could, we ran along the high bank to intercept him,
and if possible to get below and to leeward of him before beginning the
attack, but as we got nearly abreast he saw us and broke into a shambling
trot. Seeing that he was escaping us I opened fire with the four-bore,
though the range was at least seventy yards. At the shots he spun round
and turned up stream again at a great rate. Bathed in perspiration from
the hot sun, and desperately thirsty, I followed as fast as I could, and
at last, in the distance up the river, appeared the two horsemen, with
red tassels flying and spears flashing in the sun, galloping down at full
speed to head the elephant. This had the effect of forcing him to plunge
into the broad bed of reeds, where he pulled up, comparatively secure
from attack. It so happened, however, that he had chosen a spot where
the steep river bank overlooked the reeds, so that on going to the edge
and peeping over, I could see his head and the ridge of his back just
rising above them. The range was far, over sixty yards, but firing from
where we were was preferable to the impossible task of trying to approach
him noiselessly in the reeds, so, aiming for the temple, I opened fire
again. A right and left were answered by an unmistakable crack as of a
big bullet hitting bone, and by a “swish” as the second shot, going over
the mark, went innocently through the tops of the reeds. The first shot,
however, had told, boring a clean hole through the flap of the ear and
entering the skull rather far back. The elephant gave a shrill trumpet,
spread out his ears, and spun round facing us, then he swung back into
the original position.
Another shot, fired at the place where I guessed his shoulder to be,
made him throw up his trunk and subside into the reeds, but he was up
again in an instant, looking very sick. This would never do, so climbing
down the steep scarp to the lower level, and edging carefully round the
margin of the reeds till nearly opposite him, and then going in a little
way so that I could see his temple above the reeds some thirty yards
away, I took a very careful aim and fired. The elephant dropped at once,
and when my Somális, who were standing on the bank beyond him, raised a
hunting-song, I knew that he was dead. We now went in, following the path
he had made into the reeds, and found him lying on his side, one tusk
being four feet long and fairly thick; the other had lost a foot from the
point, possibly broken off while uprooting a tree. He was a fine fellow,
and when we brought a tape later on, we found he measured ten feet six
inches perpendicular height at the shoulder.
The camel coming up, we got down axes and at once set to work to cut
out the ivory. I found the Somális very feeble at this work, as it was
sunset by the time they had removed one tusk, and they seemed thoroughly
exhausted. Then a heavy rain-storm burst over us, and when it had stopped
the setting sun left us wet through, shivering under a thorn bush, the
river valley turned temporarily into an immense marsh, and, worst of all,
no moon. We had seen many fresh lion tracks in the river-bed during our
hunt, which fact did not tend to improve the outlook, and my five men
declared themselves too exhausted to collect dry firewood, and lay like
logs, looking the picture of misery.
After ten minutes wasted in trying to coax them to help me, during which
I was only answered by grunts, I tried the effect of storming at them,
and seeing I was annoyed and fearing for their precious salaries, they
sulkily began to look about for scraps of bark which might have escaped
the general wetting. They considered a fire unnecessary, saying that
Allah would keep the lions away, and that they were too wet and miserable
to care whether they were eaten up or not. Not being bad fellows,
however, they afterwards began to warm to their work, and collected a
goodly pile, and digging out a box of matches from my bag, we soon had a
cheerful blaze, and made a thorn zeríba round our bivouac. The place now
looked fairly comfortable, with our clothes hanging upon the surrounding
branches.
The Somális were before long snoring under some of my blankets which I
had to lend them, but I had no intention of going supperless to bed, and
sat up for two hours longer, cooking a formidable dish of soup and a pot
of cocoa, and on the whole thoroughly enjoying myself, with the tusk of
my first bull elephant lying on the grass before me. The consequence was
that when we were roused up next morning by the sun shining into our
eyes, I felt quite fresh, while my companions did nothing but grunt and
shiver under the blankets. By noon we had cut out the other tusk, and
packing everything on the camel, we set out to march three miles down the
river to Hembeweina.
During our short march we saw lesser koodoo, oryx, and Waller’s gazelles,
but I was unsuccessful with these, and we formed a second bivouac without
having found the main herd of elephants of which we had been in search.
Next morning we marched back to Gulánleh, intending to bring away our
main camp which had been left there, and to strike the river again at
Sobát, twelve miles above Jalélo. This plan we carried out, forming an
encampment at Sobát near the great rocks through which the Issutugan
trickles at this spot. Below our camp the river-bed opened out into a
broad, dry, sandy _wádi_ without reeds, and bordered by dense forest
with aloe undergrowth. The banks of this river from Sobát to Hembeweina
were carpeted with grass and there was a good supply of water; moreover,
the nearest Somáli karias were those of the Abdul Ishák, Habr Gerhajis,
at least twenty miles to the south-east. These are the conditions most
favourable for the presence of game.
On the morning after our arrival at Sobát I was rudely awakened from my
second sleep by Núr Osman poking me up with the butt-end of a Snider,
and informing me that elephants had been heard trumpeting in the forest
a short distance from the tent, where they had been quartering about,
afraid to come to the water. It was still dark, but by the time I had
lit a candle and had a wash and breakfast, a long red line in the east
showed that the dawn was just beginning to break, and we sallied out. We
expected to come on the fresh tracks at once, but we had searched the
jungle round camp for at least half a mile in every direction before one
of the men, who had gone farther afield, came running back saying he
could show me the herd. Pushing forward to the top of the next rise, we
looked about us, and in the thickest part of the forest we saw several
dark masses, which in the growing light we made out to be the ears of
elephants moving backwards and forwards as they stood listening. Walking
cautiously round them, we reached a small hillock which overlooked the
jungle to leeward of them, and made a careful examination of the herd.
While so doing we discovered that it was a very large one, some of the
cows which we had at first overlooked being actually down wind of us.
None appeared at first to notice us, but we must have concealed ourselves
carelessly whilst moving about looking for a good tusker, and I think
one or two of them later on became aware of our presence. We had been
watching them for nearly half an hour, and a very pretty sight it
was; the herd numbered about sixty, and seemed to be made up entirely
of cows and young ones. Hitherto they had been browsing comfortably
and had seemed quite at home, as if the forest belonged to them; now,
however, they slowly but surely began to prepare to move off the ground.
Whether they had discovered us, or were merely contemplating a change of
quarters, was not quite clear. In a short time a line began to be formed,
and they filed away in full view, travelling down wind, so that we did
not quite know, since we could see no bull, what was the next thing to be
done. They were moving at a steady walk, and we amused ourselves counting
them and examining each individual, as I did not wish to shoot cows. I
regretted much not having the means to photograph them as they solemnly
went by without fuss or noise, treading carefully, each small calf
hurrying along under its great mother’s hind legs. All the cows of above
medium size seemed to have tusks.
[Illustration: ELEPHANT AND CALF]
Whilst I stood admiring the herd disappearing among the trees like
a dissolving view, I was reminded by the bloodthirsty Hussein that
we had come to destroy elephants, and not to stare at them, so, the
temptation being too much for me, we took up their tracks through the
heavy timber, with bad aloe undergrowth, the crash, as an elephant now
and then playfully broke a tree ahead of us, being carried to our ears.
Once we followed too close, for a prolonged crash in our direction told
that an old cow was investigating the taint in the air. We, of course,
gave her plenty of room, as I wanted to have another look for a bull
before advancing to the attack, and when all was quiet we resumed our
tracking. The jungle was very fine, so that while we were following the
elephants we were generally in the shade. We found the small _Sakáro_
antelopes very numerous, standing behind the aloes to gaze at us and then
darting off with their whistling alarm-note. Sometimes we came on several
tortoises, some of their shells measuring quite two feet long and a foot
wide. They seemed to live in small families of four or five, and are very
common in the aloe jungles.
At last, after a walk of little more than a mile, we again sighted the
elephants standing at the edge of the forest belt, crowded together in
three large groups, looking uncommonly suspicious. Some high ground
overlooked the jungle, and circling round as far as possible under cover,
we reached a position very open and exposed, but otherwise good, being
down wind and sixty yards from the nearest group. We were standing on a
spur of the Damel Plain, covered with loose gravel and sprinkled with a
few small bushes. After a rapid examination of the ground I opened fire
at the biggest elephant, and with indescribable commotion and clouds
of dust the three groups dissolved into a long string, rushing past us
headlong through the forest, only intent on escape.
The big cow which I had fired at was hidden in dust for a moment, and
then spinning round in a semicircle, she made off after the others, her
stern quite closing up the path. Following on in her wake we caught
up with some of the herd which were lagging, and I fired at one which
appeared to be a young bull, bringing it down stone dead on its side,
the bullet having caught it behind the shoulders while going by at
full speed. Unfortunately, on inspection it proved to be a cow. Then,
continuing in the direction taken by the herd, we at length saw the cow
which had been first hit standing within forty yards of a large tree,
and stalking up to the tree, which was to leeward of her, I fired at her
temple. She went down and rolled over on her side, the men, delighted at
my success, running up to jump on her back. Suddenly I shouted “Look out,
she’s getting up!” and I had scarcely time to cover her temple with the
foresight from where I stood, twenty yards away, before she was on her
legs again, with ears stuck out at right angles. Another shot from the
four-bore, and she fell dead.
The severe kick of the rifle generally sent me back a couple of yards,
and I must have been standing wrong, for as I fired something gave way
in my right leg, and I came down in a sitting posture on to a clump of
aloes, unable to rise at once, and wondering whether the elephant was
dead or not. I was laid up in camp for three days, but on the fourth I
could limp about very creditably, and killed a fine wart-hog boar near
camp, besides firing at five striped hyænas, which were prowling about at
dusk among the rocks. When we had cut out the tusks of the two cows we
resolved to try fresh ground, and getting astride of my mule I marched
with my caravan to Hembeweina, sixteen miles lower down the river. Here
we found in the sand the tracks of six lions of different ages, which had
been prowling about in the river-bed and in the bordering reeds. Close to
camp we found the half-eaten carcase of a spotted hyæna which they had
caught. They must have been badly off for food to have eaten a hyæna;
indeed, from the absence of fresh tracks, we thought the rest of the game
must have been frightened from the vicinity by the lions.
The day after our arrival at Hembeweina I was again disturbed before dawn
by Núr Osman, with the report that a lot of elephants had been heard
trumpeting near the water during the night, and after a good breakfast we
started in search of them. After going up the river bank for about three
miles, we came to the large patch of reeds at Jalélo where I had killed
the first bull eight days before, and getting on to the identical spot
on the high bank from which I had fired at him, we examined the expanse
of reeds. The air was much tainted by the dead elephant as we approached
the edge of the bank, too much so to make us care to go into the reeds
to investigate farther. Looking over the sea of yellow stems we suddenly
saw two cow elephants with one large calf in company, standing under a
date-palm well out in the reeds some two hundred and fifty yards distant
from the spot on which we were standing. Wishing to get a bull, I decided
not to attack them.
My Somális were advising me to advance upon these three herd elephants,
and we were sitting on the edge of the bank intently gazing at them, when
an indescribable feeling that something was behind me made me look round,
and there, standing right over us, not twenty yards away, was an enormous
tusker quietly blinking his eyes at us and balancing his right leg,
undecided whether to go on along the top of the bank behind us or to take
a path straight down into the reeds. He must have come up very quietly,
for no one had heard a sound, and my looking round seemed to have been
accidental. Meanwhile, as we were in the open on the edge of the scarp,
in a bad position to withstand a charge, especially as I was still lame,
we waited, crouched as we were, keeping as still as mice, and watched
the enormous brute making up his mind. We were so much in the open that
had I raised my rifle he would have made us out at once. Perhaps I ought
to have fired, but when first seen his head was towards us and his trunk
down, so that he offered no certain shot. After swinging his foot once or
twice he took the path down into the reeds, treading softly, as if afraid
of cracking a stick, and looking curiously towards us out of the corner
of his eye, evidently unable to make out quite what we were; when he was
round the bank I stood up ready to fire at him as he passed below.
On reaching the lower level he seemed to scent the dead elephant, and
began walking swiftly out into the reeds. There was no time to be lost
if I wanted those big white tusks, so aiming quickly as he moved, I fired
the heavy rifle at the root of his ear, hitting him just a little too far
back. A fiendish change came over him, until now so calm and solemn. Out
went his great ears, and with his trunk curled up tightly in front of
his chest, giving a shrill trumpet he raised his head and went crashing
through the dry reeds, going up the river-bed and presenting his side to
us. Aiming for the shoulder, I again fired, and struck him fairly in the
ribs; this turned him across the river straight away from our bank, and
he dropped into the wake of the three cows, which on hearing the shots
had left the palm-tree in alarm, and were already sailing away through
the reeds in fine style.
I was still very lame, and until the mule came up had to content myself
with watching the game disappear into the forest on the farther side of
the river. While they were crossing the reeds the wounded bull gave an
occasional squeal and charged off at a tangent, pounding imaginary foes,
and looking the picture of annoyance. As the four elephants disappeared
among the trees they were joined by two strings of cows and young ones
which we had not seen before, followed by two very large tuskers. I felt
that I had made a mess of the business, and regretted then that we had
left the horses in camp, as they would have been most useful in turning
the elephants. We had to wait some minutes for my mule to be brought up,
and it was 9 A.M. before we took up the tracks of the wounded elephant.
The sun was beginning to get very powerful, making doubly hard the work
of advancing over the masses of fallen reeds which obstructed the ground
even in the path made by the elephants. The tracking, however, was not
difficult, as a wide lane had been opened through the reeds everywhere
bespattered with blood. When we reached the forest on the farther side of
the river the blood had almost ceased, and following became a difficult
matter, as the footsteps of the wounded elephant were becoming mingled
with those of the other two bulls. It was dreadfully hot, and for more
than two hours we toiled along over aloes and thorns and through tree
jungles, covering about six miles of ground before we again sighted our
game.
The herd was standing taking shelter from the midday sun under three
large trees which grew close together, and we advanced to the attack.
We could not make out the wounded bull, so I fired at the head of the
largest elephant I could see, and the explosion of my rifle was followed
by a loud answering crack and a squeal from the herd, which soon became
enveloped in a dense cloud of dust. We ran on in pursuit, but they
slipped away and crossed half a mile of open stony ground, passed a
group of rocks which overhung a sand-river, and stood half a mile off,
in moderately high jungle. Climbing the rocks I could see them, but
following farther with my lame leg was out of the question, so my two
trackers offered to go round and drive them to me if I would lend them my
Martini rifle and express and some cartridges.
Meanwhile I seated myself on a rock and watched the herd. There was
one very sick elephant in it, which seemed to be continually rolling,
surrounded by a group of sympathising friends. I afterwards found this
to be the bull first wounded—the one which had surprised us on the river
bank—and he appeared to be in a dying state. While I was gazing over the
forest at them they suddenly began to move in my direction very fast,
and a moment later the breeze carried to my ears the reports of musketry
fired at a distance from beyond the elephants. The herd disappeared for
a minute and then emerged from the high jungle and came over the open,
straight for my position; they then turned into the river-bed and came
past me at a great pace, at over eighty yards’ distance. I fired right
and left at the shoulder of an old bull, the biggest of the three,
carrying fine long tusks. He fell and kicked about for a second or two in
a cloud of dust, and then turned up stream with the others, going very
fast. They then passed round my rock at about a hundred yards, too far
for straight shooting with such a rifle, and got out of range, the badly
wounded bull being no doubt among them. There was one bull throwing sand
over its back, which I concluded must be the sick one.
My leg was now beginning to feel the strain of the day’s work, and at
the second discharge of the heavy rifle I was sent flying, and subsided
into a sitting posture among the rocks, the rifle dropping out of my
hands. The elephants now sailed gaily away over huge boulders and torrent
beds with the activity of monkeys, and soon disappeared over the brow
of a low hill, leaving me sitting on the rocks utterly fagged out. When
the trackers came up we went to examine the place where the largest bull
had fallen. The aloes were crushed to bits and the sand was much scraped
about, but we did not notice any blood. The elephants had quite beaten
us, and we made the best of our way home, reaching camp at dusk after a
very tiring day.
For two days I had horsemen dogging the footsteps of the wounded bulls,
but they returned and reported that the herd had gone past Little Harar
and might not pull up for days, having been thoroughly disturbed by the
hunt. They had followed the tracks of the sick bull for twenty-five
miles, and he had separated from the herd, halting to roll many times,
and at last his tracks had become mixed with those of a fresh herd of
bulls, cows, and young ones, and they had then left them. Rain having
recently fallen had made the tracking more difficult.[16]
On the night after this long elephant hunt we were awakened at about
twelve by two lions keeping up a deep roaring, repeated at short
intervals, which seemed to be uttered only thirty yards from our fence,
though in reality the distance was at least a hundred, as was shown next
morning by the pugs in the sand. Luckily, neither my mule nor the three
Somáli ponies were at all nervous, or we should have had them breaking
away. One lion kept up wind, giving at first low grunts, growing louder
and ending in a roar, then dwindling down again to nothing. After a
bit he would be answered by a rumbling sound on the other side, from a
lioness concealed in the reeds down at the river-bed close by. There
was absolutely no moon, so we could do nothing but replenish the fires
with a stock of grass and sticks which I always keep for this purpose.
My men jeered the lions, saying they were not in earnest or they would
not make so much noise. We had left some meat out within twenty yards of
our fence, but found it untouched in the morning, the lions evidently
fearing to come in so close, and only hoping to stampede our animals.
I found Hembeweina very pleasant, and never tired of wandering about near
camp examining the fresh elephant tracks in the river-bed. A herd which
had lately passed had made several wells or large holes in the sand, into
which water had trickled from the stream, and over these holes they had
stood to drink and throw water over their bodies.
One day I was out quite alone on one of these rambles, and after crossing
the river had ascended to the top of a plateau half a mile from camp.
The summit was a level plain covered with black stones and occasional
tufts of very green feathery grass. Finding fresh oryx tracks I began
to cross the plateau, but the tracking was rendered difficult by the
number of stones. All at once I caught sight of a large animal moving
slowly among some bushes, evidently grazing and unsuspicious of danger;
and thinking that it might be an oryx, I began to stalk up to it. This
was not easy because of the transparent nature of the bush; however, I
got up to three hundred yards, and imagine my surprise to find that the
animal was a Somáli pony alone in this bleak spot. This plateau had a bad
reputation—the nearest tribe to the north-west, seventy miles away, being
famous for raiding and lifting the cattle of the Abdul Ishák.
By the side of the horse there was something on the ground, which might
be a man or a small ant-hill. Having on a former trip had my caravan
dogged by scouts from a tribe, I thought I would cautiously investigate.
So I crept up and found that there was no man, while the horse, left to
run quite wild without bridle or rope on him, gave a whinny and trotted
round me in a circle with arching neck, nodding his head up and down. He
had evidently been abandoned by his rider, and I determined to catch him,
use him for work with elephants, and then take him to the coast to be
publicly claimed. Returning to camp I brought up my people, and using the
mule as a decoy, we at last got a rope over his head and led him quietly
to camp. The day after the capture of the horse two men rode in to give
me news that Shiré Shirmáki, one of the Habr Gerhajis wise men, was on
his way from his karia, fifteen miles distant, to visit me, bringing
thirty horsemen with him, who, my informants said, were his children.
Then I witnessed the _dibáltig_, or equestrian display, given in my
honour, as the first English visitor to their country.
In the distance, over the plain, arose a thin wreath of dust, and from
beneath it appeared first one or two horsemen, and then about thirty,
following each other in single file, and coming on at a trot. Presently,
as they approached the camp, they formed line and broke into a canter,
the spears flashing vividly in the sun, and the bright red trappings of
the horses flaring out against the green thorn jungle. Each horseman wore
a _khaili_, which is a tobe of scarlet dashed with blue in two shades,
the colours being arranged tartan-wise. They approached to within a
hundred yards of the camp, and then halted. Accompanied by my nine men,
I left the zeríba and advanced to meet them. Sitting on his pony in the
centre of the group was Shiré Shirmáki, a dignified-looking old man with
a white beard, and on either side of him were his sons, two or three fine
fellows in the prime of life. There were also one or two boys, armed,
like their seniors, with spears and shield, and most of the men had slung
round their waists the _biláwa_, or short, close-quarter stabbing sword.
All my visitors looked a sturdy lot, up to lifting cattle or any other
kind of devilry.
I exchanged with them the usual Mahomedan greeting, and one of Shiré
Shirmáki’s sons urged his pony up in front of the rest and sang a long
extempore song. When at last it had come to an end I complimented the old
fellow upon his warlike-looking turn-out, and then waited in silence for
him to explain his visit. He said that, being encamped with his people
and their flocks and herds at a spot some fifteen miles to the eastward,
and having heard of my presence on the Issutugan, he had come with some
of his young men to visit me, sing songs, and have a good time. “Yes,”
I thought, “and to eat our rice!” This was all very well, but our stock
of food was scanty, and I resolved to get rid of my friends on the first
opportunity.
I now asked the old chief to show me what his children could do in fancy
riding; and at once two or three impatient spirits galloped forward and
threw their spears, picking them up again by leaning over the saddle-bow
while at full speed, and then, pricking towards me over the turf, they
pulled their quivering ponies back on to their haunches with a jerk just
as they reached me, the mouths bleeding from the heavy bit. Soon the
plain around my zeríba was covered with rushing ponies, their excited
riders throwing their spears in every direction and dashing forward to
pick them up. Every pony raised a cloud of dust to himself, and the
confusion had reached its height when the old man raised his hide whip as
a signal, and one by one they galloped up to me, till I was the centre of
a semicircle of horses’ heads, pressing upon me, their eyes aflame and
nostrils distended. Every man as he came up raised his spear and shouted,
“_Mót! io Mót!_” (Hail! and again hail!) and I answered, with my men,
“_Kul-leban_” (Thanks).
Many of these fellows can throw the spear about eighty-five yards from
the saddle or seventy-five yards on foot. They guide their animals
skilfully, but ride almost entirely by balance, with very little grip
on the saddle. After the display on horseback we all went into the
zeríba, and I gave orders to have a big meal of rice prepared for our
self-constituted guests.
Soon from across the plain came two more horsemen, and a shock-headed
boy leading a cow, which was brought in front of my tent as a present,
with Shiré Shirmáki’s compliments. We killed it ten minutes later, and my
men joined the strangers in a big feed, followed by a firelight dance,
the men clapping their hands to the strains of a reed flute, advancing
and retiring as in a quadrille, and jumping up and down like men in a
sack-race. Then followed a few interesting step-dances and songs in
praise of the English or of the Habr Gerhajis. The burden of one song
was, “There is nobody like us; our horses are the best and fly like the
wind, and none can fight like we; our old men are wise, our young men
are brave as lions, and there are no girls so beautiful as ours.” When
I retired to my tent at midnight the clamour was still going on, and I
was roused at 3 A.M. by the leave-taking. By the genial glare of our
camp-fire Shiré Shirmáki made an impressive speech, laying great stress
on my having seen his country, and asking me to tell the English that
his tribe, being very good people, never molested caravans; to which I
replied that, so far as my having seen his country was concerned, he was
perfectly free to come and see mine, and I promised him a new _khaili_
from Berbera and some snow-white _bafta_ tobes for his men.
They recognised the horse which I had caught to be one which had been
abandoned by one of their fellows three months before while engaged in a
raid on the Jibril Abokr tribe, among the mountains to the south-west. I
promised, if they would send a man to Berbera, that I would give up the
horse to the Resident there, and their tribesman might then claim it.
Finally, I apologised for not having shown them any equestrian games on
our part, as the mule was sick! After the joke had been handed round and
duly appreciated we parted with a great deal of handshaking, and they
trotted off into the darkness.
While shifting our camp next day back to Gulánleh, we were constantly
in sight of game, either oryx or one of the three sorts of gazelle, and
we caught sight of a leopard sneaking across a nala three hundred yards
ahead of us, but he disappeared among some rocks, where tracking became
impossible. On arriving at Gulánleh I sent horsemen for a grand tour to
all the elephant forests around, and remained in camp, ready to march to
any point of the compass at a moment’s notice. Besides my own trackers I
had two parties of Habr Gerhajis horsemen also searching for elephants,
each party consisting of three men.
While in camp at Gulánleh I was suddenly roused at noon by shouts in
Hindustáni of “_Máro, Sahib! Máro!_” (Shoot, shoot). So pulling out my
revolver, I looked round the fly of the tent, and found my whole camp
in an uproar; men were running for their spears, and backing into one
end of the zeríba stood the Midgán, fitting a poisoned arrow to his
long bow and glaring viciously at one of my camelmen, who, surrounded
by his friends, stood at the other end of the zeríba poising his spear.
The situation was decidedly theatrical. First I walked up to the Somáli
and made him give me his spears, and then returning to the Midgán I
bundled him ignominiously into my tent, poisoned arrows and all, and
threw him an oryx skull to clean, telling him not to leave the tent
without permission. Having thus satisfactorily disposed of the centres
of disturbance I held an inquiry, when it appeared that the quarrel had
arisen through my having persuaded my Somális to allow the Midgán, who
belonged to the outcaste race, to eat with them out of the same dish.
A young camelman had, during a hot argument, told the Midgán that such
as he should not be allowed to eat with respectable Somális, whereat
sturdy little Adan rejoined, “Who are you to talk? You’re only a baby;
you have not learned to eat at all yet; go back to your mother and drink
milk.” The youth, having no more arguments left, stooped, and picking
up a spear which lay beside him, leant over and prodded Adan gently in
the back, causing blood to flow. Rice, dishes, and men scattered in all
directions, and I had only come out of my tent just in time to prevent
the Midgán sticking an arrow into his assailant. The Midgán was clearly
in the right, and calling the camelman to my tent, I ordered a slight
compensation to be paid, and then persuaded them to shake hands. These
duels arise out of almost nothing, and if a man should be killed, a
blood-feud between tribes, perhaps lasting for years, is the result.
Luckily the Somális, although quick to resent an insult, as quickly cool
down again.
About nine o’clock one morning one of my trackers rode in to say that his
party had struck the fresh tracks of a solitary bull elephant in a nala
some twelve miles to the westward, and that they had followed him along
its banks for eight hours, at last finding him, feeding and standing
about, at Eil Danan. My informant went on to say that he had left his
two companions to watch the elephant. At Eil Danan a sandy river-bed
bordered by high reeds winds through a deep square basin formed by the
sides of the Eil Danan plateau, which is two or three hundred feet high,
and strewn with black stones like most of the Damel Plain. Between the
river-bed and the precipitous edges of the plateau is black stony ground
intersected by watercourses, and sparsely dotted over with thorn bushes
and a few tufts of thin feathery grass, so that there is no cover for
an elephant to stand in except the reeds bordering the river-bed. These
are very dense and usually ten feet high, some of the side gullies being
choked with them, though in the main channel, through which a small
stream runs, they merely form a fringe fifty to one hundred yards wide.
Here and there near the edge of the reeds grow a few large trees covered
with _armo_ creeper, on which elephants delight to feed; the leaves are
very green and juicy, heart-shaped and thick, having a smooth surface
like india-rubber.
Taking with me one camel and two or three men, I at once set out for
Eil Danan, and after a hot march we struck the _wádi_ at 2 P.M., and
followed in the tracks of the two watchmen until we found them. Then,
after resting for lunch under a tree, I went forward with my gunbearer,
Deria Hassan, to explore the reeds where the elephant had last been seen.
After some trouble we at length saw him standing under a tree on the
farther side of a belt of reeds forty yards wide. He seemed to be a very
large bull, and had a nice pair of tusks. Beyond him the ground was quite
bare. I crept up to the edge of the reeds, and getting on the roots of
a fallen tree, could see his head above them. He was swinging it slowly
from side to side and looking quietly in my direction, though he did not
appear to see me. At last he presented his temple, and I fired as well as
possible from my insecure perch, hitting him a loud smack, while Deria
Hassan fired from the bank behind me. Instantly the beast gave a shrill
trumpet and charged, coming straight at me through the reeds. Being in
the open I did not wait for his head to appear, but ran down the edge
of the reeds to leeward and dropped under a bush, Deria disappearing
with equal promptitude in the other direction. Then the three horsemen,
according to previous orders which I had given them, rode up, and seeing
them the elephant turned again into the reeds and made off, keeping down
the centre of the belt, the horsemen riding parallel to him along the
outside. I followed on foot at best pace, and came up, a mile farther
down, just in time to see him charge viciously out at the horses,
scattering them. This manœuvre was repeated twice, and then the elephant
went up a side gully three hundred yards wide, choked by an unbroken
expanse of very high reeds. We here lost sight of him for a time, and
taking up his tracks we found a good deal of blood.
On reaching the main channel I sent the horsemen on after the elephant,
and being parched with thirst I lay down flat and drank from the
rivulet. Before I had finished drinking Deria said, “Look out!” and I
heard galloping and loud shouts, and sprang up just in time to see the
elephant break back and cross the stream two hundred yards below me,
taking up his former position in the reeds, and followed by my three
horsemen, who were working admirably. When I came up the horsemen were
collected on some rising ground overlooking the reeds, hooting at the
elephant, which stood with the top of his head just visible, listening to
them.
Advancing to a small knoll in front of the horses, I fired right and
left at his head. He disappeared among the reeds for a moment, and then
some one called out that he was coming. Out he came, very silently,
and I slipped away to leeward and crouched under a thorn bush to watch
him. Off he went after the horsemen, and singling out Hussein Debeli,
following every turn of the horse, he kept close behind its tail for two
hundred yards, till it seemed the plucky fellow would be caught, and they
disappeared among the trees together. I soon noticed, however, that the
elephant, having finished his charge, was stealing back again towards
the gully which he had first tried. Back came the horsemen, and after
a short race headed him, and brought him to a standstill fifty yards
from me, giving me a good chance for a shot. I was standing in the open,
and knowing that I should have the watchful and angry brute down on me
at once if I failed to disable him, I fired at his head. On receiving
the shot he dropped his tail and trunk and held for the gully, looking
demoralised, but before he could reach the shelter of the reeds I ran in
close and gave him another shot in the shoulder at twenty yards, while
he was going at a good pace. Swerving at this he plunged into the reeds,
and we heard him crashing about in them for some time, then a long-drawn
bellow, and everything became still.
Before going in I fired two shots with the express and listened, but
hearing nothing, we started to examine the reeds. We were not long in
finding the great cutting he had made through them, and with rifle on
full cock and every sense on the alert, I entered, followed by my two
trackers on foot. On either side rose what looked like an impenetrable
yellow wall; wherever we looked we saw nothing but reeds, and as we
advanced we had to climb over the mounds of fallen stalks. Yard by yard
we pushed on, now and then stopping to listen. Along the floor and sides
of the lane of reeds blood was plentifully sprinkled, and at length we
began to approach the place where we had last heard him bellow; then I
peeped round an angle and saw him lying on his side quite dead, and we
walked up to examine our prize. He was an old bull, ten feet six inches
at the shoulder; we measured him with bits of reeds which we afterwards
laid beside a tape; and he had a beautiful white pair of tusks without a
flaw, four feet long, and thick for Somáli ivory. Somáli elephant tusks
are, as a rule, nothing like the size of those found in the centre of the
continent.
By the time the sun had gone down we had out one tusk, and returned up
the river to search the plateau for a camping ground with good grass for
the horses. Leaving the main river, we formed our bivouac near a small
grassy nala. The arrangements for the night were quickly made, and,
spreading our blankets under the lee of a thorn bush, we were soon all
fast asleep. We had no fence, and at midnight I was awakened by a lion
roaring a short distance up the nala. Rubbing my eyes, I awoke Deria, and
told him to watch and keep the fire alight, then I dozed off again, and
when we awoke next morning Deria was fast asleep by the fire, which was
nearly out. We cut out the other tusk and returned to Gulánleh, when, my
leave having expired, after skirting the foot of Gólis for five days, we
marched by easy stages to Berbera, then by dhow to Aden, being becalmed
for twelve hours in sight of the volcano before getting in.
[Illustration: Lesser Kudu & Aloes]