THE RHINOCEROS
BY F. J. JACKSON
Mr. F. C. Selous has proved beyond a doubt that there is only one
species of the so-called black rhinoceros (_R. bicornis_) in South
Africa, and his arguments apply equally to the East African beast.
There can be no doubt that the range of this beast extends from the
Soudan to South Africa, and that there is only one distinct species
of prehensile-lipped rhinoceros known throughout Africa. If the
classification of the black rhinoceros depended on the comparative
size of the horns (and this appears to have been the principal basis
of former arguments), then there would certainly be no difficulty in
making two or even more species. Adult rhinoceroses are to be found in
East Africa (and perhaps there is no place where they exist in greater
numbers at the present day), varying in size, temperament, and in the
length and shape of their horns. I have myself shot them with almost
every variety of horns, from a beast with front horn 27 ins. and second
horn only 9 ins. in length, to one with front horn 21 ins. and the
other horn 22 ins. in length. The latter specimen, together with the
one in the illustration, answers to the _so-called species_
_R. Keitloa_.
[Illustration: Dead rhinoceros and gun-bearer]
Few beasts, if any, vary so much in temperament as rhinoceroses, and
no rule can be laid down as to their general behaviour, though in
most cases they will retreat before the presence of man. Personally,
I consider the ‘kifaru’ (Swahili for rhinoceros) to be by nature
an extremely stupid beast, and were it not for the birds (_Buphaga
erythrorhyncha_) which nearly always accompany it, and act as sentinels
for it, the rhinoceros would be quite the easiest of all game to stalk,
and would, in consequence, be far less plentiful than it is. If not
accompanied by these birds, there would be no difficulty in approaching
sleeping rhinoceroses to within a few yards; in fact, if so inclined,
I believe one might kick them up. I have often got to within 30 or 40
yards of one, have then failed to rouse it by whistling and shouting,
and have had to throw sticks, stones, or bits of earth at it before
it would get up. Should the birds detect the stalker, however, they
will fly up in the air and give vent to a curious and prolonged shrill
hissing note, not unlike the call of our missel-thrush, and away the
rhinoceros will go before the stalker can get within range. These birds
follow the rhinoceroses for the sake of the ticks which are always
plentiful on them.
When alarmed, the rhinoceros becomes easily flurried, appears to do
things on impulse which other animals endowed with more sagacity would
not do, and is by no means the vicious and vindictive brute which some
writers have found him to be in South Africa and the Soudan. In the
majority of cases, where a rhinoceros is said, by men who perhaps have
not been very well acquainted with his peculiarities, to have charged
in a most determined and vicious manner, I believe this so-called
charge to have been nothing more than the first headlong and impetuous
rush of the beast in a semi-dazed state, endeavouring to avoid an
encounter rather than court one.
In spite of the fact that buffaloes are generally considered the most
dangerous of all big game, rhinoceroses will test the nerve of a
beginner more perhaps than any other big beast. In the first place,
‘rhinos’ are generally found standing or lying down quite out in the
open plain, often under the shade of a small thorn tree, where there is
very little covert of any kind, except, perhaps, a few scanty bushes
and low ant-heaps (the majority of which would afford little or no
protection in the event of a charge), and grass from 12 to 18 inches in
height. Again, there is no knowing what ‘rhinos’ will do when shot at
and wounded, and their behaviour is sometimes decidedly embarrassing,
as they will often spin round and round, and these gyrations,
accompanied by violent snorting, are rather alarming until one gets
used to them. Rhinoceroses, when at rest, almost invariably stand and
lie with their sterns to the wind--i.e. the beasts face more or less in
the direction from which the stalker approaches them.
They also nearly always retreat up wind when alarmed, as, being
gifted with very poor sight, they depend almost entirely on their
extraordinary sense of smell for any warning of the presence of danger.
I have on several occasions passed to leeward within 100 yards of one,
even in the open, and, though followed by several men, it was evidently
quite unable to make us out, though it saw us, and showed no signs
of fear by running away or of curiosity by advancing towards us for
a closer inspection, the latter a common feature in the behaviour of
some game. On one occasion, however, I walked close past to leeward of
a rhino which haunted a certain plain in the Arusha-wa-Chini district,
and which I knew well by sight, as he had a very short stumpy horn. I
was after a herd of buffaloes at the time I passed him; on my return I
saw him standing in almost the same position, and, wishing to see what
he would do on getting my wind, I walked past to windward of him within
300 yards.
As I had only a double .360 Express in my hand, with no gun-bearer
nearer than 100 yards, every man being engaged in carrying the meat
of a buffalo I had shot, I was not quite prepared for the change in
his demeanour as he came straight for me. When about 80 yards off, a
shot at his head only had the effect of increasing his pace, and when
within 20 yards the second barrel failed to turn him, as I had hoped.
I was forced to make a bolt for it, but he never attempted to follow
me. After this experience I did not try any more experiments on the
different temperaments of rhinoceroses under varying circumstances, nor
would I recommend others to try any, unless they have an 8-bore rifle
in their hands and a trustworthy gun-bearer at their heels.
This habit of retreating up wind is one of the reasons, if not the
principal one, that rhinoceroses have gained for themselves the
reputation for charging more often than other beasts, not only from
the natives, but from many European sportsmen. To begin with, a
rhinoceros rarely drops on the spot to the shoulder-shot, even when
hit with a 4-bore bullet, but will dash forward whichever way his head
may be pointing in at the time of being fired at, which, as I have
said before, may be in the direction of the sportsman. If they should
spin round and round, which they very often do, particularly when shot
through the lungs, they will rush off in the direction their heads are
in when they cease their gyrations. Should they, however, start off
down wind in their first rush, they will very quickly turn up into the
wind, and either in so doing, or in rushing straight forward, they are
quite as likely as not to come in the sportsman’s direction, who, as
he will probably be within 80 to 90 yards of the beast before firing,
might be led to mistake this headlong rush for a charge.
I have many times experienced this myself, and have had a rhinoceros
come tearing along, snorting like a steam-engine, to within 10 or 15
yards of me; but with three exceptions, when I was unable for want of
covert to keep out of sight, they always turned off to the right or
left of me, and did not charge.
Although I do not consider rhinoceroses very dangerous beasts, I
have always had a certain amount of respect for them, and have been
careful to use heavy rifles; still I have had more really exciting
encounters with these beasts than with any other of the larger game,
and have three times been charged in a determined manner. I account
for two of these charges by the fact that I was very close up before
firing, failed to knock the beasts down, and was unable to keep out of
sight. The third charge, which is the only one worth recording here,
occurred in Turkwel on January 25, 1890. I had shot three antelopes
on the march, some distance from the footpath, and as there were a
great number of vultures about I left a gun-bearer with each beast to
keep them off. The last one--a _G. Grantii_--had given me a long run,
so I left my Winchester carbine with the gun-bearer in charge, as the
natives were a treacherous lot and had caused us much trouble. When
I was returning to the caravan track to call men to carry the meat,
having only a 12-bore shot-gun in my hand, loaded with No. 8 shot,
there being a good many sand-grouse about, out floundered a cow rhino
and calf from behind a bush 25 yards off. To slip behind two small
mimosa saplings, within a few feet of me, was the work of a second, but
I was not quick enough to prevent the rhino catching sight of me, when
she came straight at me with her head down. When within 15 yards, which
I thought quite close enough, I fired at her head with splendid effect,
as she lunged forward and stumbled on to her knees, ploughing up the
ground with her chin; but quickly recovering herself swung round on her
hind legs and bolted, followed by the calf. Stopping a charging rhino
with No. 8 shot is perhaps unique.
Rhinoceroses will often charge through a caravan without any apparent
provocation, but in most cases, if not in all, I believe the cause to
be stupidity rather than viciousness, and also their almost invariable
habit of retreating up wind. I have never known of a case in which a
rhinoceros has charged a caravan down the wind, except once, when the
beast was in such close proximity to the footpath that, being suddenly
aroused from sleep by the noise of the men, and seeing them, it charged
in self-defence. I know, however, of several cases of a rhinoceros
charging through caravans from a considerable distance, but always up
wind, and, from what I observed, can only account for it in one way.
The rhinoceros is generally lying asleep, perhaps several yards off,
when the caravan passes to windward of it, and as the countries where
these beasts are found are for the most part uninhabited, the caravans
on the march are often of considerable length, as the men straggle
along much more when there is little fear of trouble from natives.
The beast on being aroused will start up, stare about, sniff the wind
with head raised, and trot off to the right or left, by which time
the caravan, moving on, is extended in a long line well across the
wind, and the rhinoceros, finding that whichever way he turns he is
unable to get clear of the men’s scent, and possibly imagining himself
surrounded, becomes more and more confused, and rushes up wind rather
than down. Should the beast, however, happen to get clear of the scent
of the foremost men in the caravan as it first starts off on being
disturbed, it will circle round in front of them and make off with tail
erect in its usual grotesque manner rather than go out of its way to
charge.
It is a curious fact that natives are, as a rule, more afraid of a
rhinoceros than of either an elephant or buffalo. They also find him
more difficult to kill, but this is entirely owing to his tough hide,
and the primitive nature of their weapons. The people of Turkwel, in
the Suk country, who live by hunting, and who kill large quantities of
game, including elephants, all of which they kill at close quarters
with spears, told me that they feared a rhinoceros more than anything
else, and rarely cared to attack him. This I can understand, as he
is a much more active beast, and, owing to his tougher hide, is more
difficult to kill than a buffalo. I may mention that these people first
of all snare all their game in the manner described by Sir Samuel Baker
in his ‘Wild Beasts and their Ways,’ vol. ii. p. 94; otherwise, having
only the most primitive of spears (made out of iron found in or near
their country, and not out of trade iron wire), they could not hope
to kill anything, as they use neither pitfalls nor bows and arrows.
With the exception of the elephant, the rhinoceros has fewer enemies,
except man, than any other game, as it is very doubtful whether lions,
were they to attack him, could do any harm beyond giving him a severe
clawing, and I think they can scarcely be counted as enemies.
The facts that he is generally found in the open, that he stands stern
to the wind when at rest, and that he is usually attended by bird
sentinels, obviously prevent him from being taken at a disadvantage.
This security from surprise, together with his immunity from enemies
(the natives rarely attacking him in the open), may account to a
certain extent for his indolent and sleepy nature.
Rhinoceroses (_R. bicornis_) are exclusively bush-feeders. The various
species of mimosa form their favourite and principal food. During the
day, from about 9 A.M. till about 5 P.M., they rest and sleep, and are
then generally found in the open, though I have come across them quite
unexpectedly in thick bush, enjoying their midday siesta, even though
an open plain was close by. About 5 P.M. they begin to wend their way
in the direction of their drinking place, feeding here and there as
they go on any tempting-looking mimosa bush, but they do not drink
until after sundown. They then make for their feeding grounds, browse
throughout the night, drink again just before sunrise, often have a
roll in a mud-hole, and then make their way to the place where they
intend to lie up for the day. It is when on their way to or on their
arrival at their quarters for the day that the sportsman will generally
see them.
Should a rhinoceros be found standing in open country where there is
but little covert, and should it be accompanied by birds, which are
easily seen with the aid of binoculars, the sportsman should wait at a
distance until it lies down before beginning to crawl in. He will then
have to stalk the birds rather than the rhinoceros. This reminds me of
an incident which occurred to me before I had had much experience with
these beasts, when I stalked a rhino unattended by birds, and got up to
it rather closer than I should otherwise have done, but was betrayed
at the last moment by the sudden appearance of birds. This happened in
December 1886, when encamped on the river Lumi, one march above Taveta
to the east of Kilimanjaro, in a delightful spot, which is now known as
‘Kampi ya Simba’ (lion camp) from my having shot two lions there. On
the 29th I went out, and was making for the foot of the mountain when
I saw two rhinos under a tree about a mile and a half off. I was on my
way to circumvent them when another one, which I had not seen, appeared
from the left, and walked across my front, about 300 yards off. By the
length and thinness of its front horn I knew it to be a cow, so I
sat down in the grass, as there was no other covert, and waited until
she walked under a small thorn-tree about half a mile off. Under the
shade of this tree the grass was considerably longer; she soon lay
down, and I walked straight up to within about 200 yards, when she got
up, obliging me and my gun-bearer to drop down into the grass and lie
still till she again lay down.
[Illustration: THE RHINO RAISED HERSELF … LIKE A HUGE PIG]
Although she had no birds on her back, she appeared restless, and kept
raising her head, which I attributed to the fact that she was dead to
leeward of the other two rhinos, some quarter of a mile off, and as she
was almost facing us, we lay still to give her time to settle down and
go to sleep. I was particularly anxious to make sure of her, as she
had the best horn I had seen up to that time. As the grass was some 18
ins. long, though there was not a particle of other covert, we crawled
forward on hands and knees and had little difficulty in getting within
100 yards of her, when we took a short rest, as grovelling through the
grass was hot work. We then crawled on, flat on our stomachs, and when
within about 50 yards I raised my head, saw that some 20 yards further
on there was a tuft of slightly longer grass, and determined to get
up to this before firing. However, just before we reached it, some
half-dozen birds came from the direction of the other two rhinos, and
settled on our cow’s back, but we eventually succeeded in reaching the
tuft. The difficulty now was to get into a sitting position and ready
to shoot without being seen by the birds. To do this I worked my legs
towards the rhino as I lay on my side, and gradually raised myself into
a sitting position, but at that instant the birds saw me, and flew up
with their usual cry of alarm. At the same moment the rhino raised
herself on her forelegs like a huge pig, and I then realised that I
was nearer than I intended to get, only about 20 yards separating
us, but she did not appear to see me. As she remained sitting in
this position, without moving my body, which I knew might attract
attention, I stretched out my arm behind me for the 4-bore, but did not
feel it at first, and thought that for once my faithful Ramazan had
received rather a shock to his nerves on finding himself at such close
quarters. However, he put it into my hand at last, after a delay of
perhaps two seconds, which appeared to me much longer, and I quickly
planted a bullet on the point of her left shoulder which knocked her
over. Reloading before I moved, I saw she was still down, but making
desperate efforts to get up; but as she was lying on her left side with
her broken shoulder under her, she was unable to do so, and I ran up
and despatched her with a shot in the neck. This was the only time I
ever knocked a rhino down on the spot with the shoulder shot, but I
took it here because she was too much end on for the neck shot, which I
always prefer for these beasts when within a range of 35 yards, as when
struck in the right spot they drop dead, and the chances of a charge
are removed.
A rhinoceros when once started is a difficult beast to stop, though a
shot from a heavy rifle will generally turn it. Their most determined
charge is less to be feared than that of a buffalo or elephant, as they
rarely if ever hunt a man, but rush straight on, whether they miss him
or knock him down. The only instance I have ever heard of in which a
rhinoceros renewed the attack under any circumstances (i.e. wounded or
unwounded) after it had dispersed or knocked down its enemy, happened
to Captain Pringle, R.E., when returning from Uganda in 1892. This
occurred between Machako’s and Kibwezi, in Ukambani. The beast--which,
by the way, was not wounded--repeatedly charged the men, who were,
however, too nimble for it, and it finally amused itself by tossing
Pringle’s load of bedding about, ventilating it in some half-dozen
places with its horn before being driven off.
When within range, which may be any distance between 80 and 30 yards,
unless safely ensconced behind a small tree or ant-heap, the stalker
should cast a look round immediately to leeward of his position, to see
that there is no wart-hog hole or other obstruction, in which he might
come to grief, should it be necessary to dodge in case of a charge.
The stalker should always endeavour to get within a range of 80 yards,
to ensure a vital shot at the shoulder. If the country is favourable
and the beast can be approached within 35 yards or less, a shot in the
neck, a trifle below and a few inches behind the base of the ear, would
be instantly fatal. Although the object of this shot is to break the
vertebræ of the neck, it is better to aim rather low than too high, as
there is always a chance of the bullet severing the main arteries of
the neck or jugular vein should the vertebræ be missed, whereas a shot
above the vertebræ might go clean through the neck and the beast be
none the worse.
[Illustration: ‘I was knocked over’]
Every sportsman will probably have his own ideas as to shooting
positions, and as most shooting (except elephant shooting) in East
Africa is done in fairly open country, he can please himself, and will
in most cases be able to adopt the position most convenient, whether it
be standing, kneeling, sitting, or lying. Personally I prefer to sit
down, and always fire even a 4- or 8-bore in this position, provided
the grass is not too high to obscure my view of the beast. The recoil
of such rifles--a push, rather than a kick--is too much for any man,
except a Hercules, in this position, and always pushes me back and
causes my legs to go up in the air, if it does not send me actually
on to my back. When 80 yards from a beast I do not mind it, but when
within 40 yards or less it is better not to have one’s equilibrium
upset in this manner, and I therefore make my gun-bearer sit behind
me with his hands within an inch or so of my back to hold me up. This
is a capital plan, but on no account must the gun-bearer touch the
sportsman’s back, as he might give a slight push just as the trigger
is being pressed. I remember once coming rather to grief, and being
in a ludicrous though not critical position, owing to my gun-bearer
being unable to get behind me. I was out shooting with Dr. Mackinnon
at Machako’s on March 30, 1889, and as he had not then killed a rhino
and was anxious to do so, we kept together and came across two of them
in a capital position. Followed by our gun-bearers we got up to a bush
within 60 yards of them, when the Doctor gave the larger one, a cow,
a good shot behind the shoulder and another one as she ran away. The
second rhino I missed clean with both barrels. After running about a
quarter of a mile, they both pulled up close to a bush, and, swaying
about two or three times, the wounded one sat down and subsided,
looking just as if she was asleep, while the other one stood close by
her. Within about 20 yards of them there was a large ant-heap with very
steep sides, and as the wind was fair I went round and got up to this
heap without the least trouble. After crawling up and peeping over the
top, I could only see the nose and front horn of the one standing, to
the left of the bush, but I saw that the other one was quite dead.
As I did not wish to risk a shot through the bush, I crept round to
the left side of the ant-heap, and could then see the head and quite
enough neck to afford a good shot; but the difficulty was to get into
a steady shooting position, as I could neither stand up nor sit down.
I at last managed to squat down on my right heel, with my left leg
also tucked up under me, and in this awkward position fired at the
beast’s neck. The result was rather more startling than I expected with
regard to myself, as I was knocked over by the recoil of the rifle, and
sent flying backwards to the bottom of the ant-heap, where I nearly
turned a complete somersault, but quickly recovering myself I had the
satisfaction of seeing that the rhino was still more completely knocked
over than myself.
Among many and varied experiences with East African big game, two
rhinoceros fights, of which I was a witness, were perhaps not the
least interesting. The first I saw on a short trip from Taveta, with
my friend Sir Robert Harvey, to the Rombo and Useri plains early in
January 1887. On New Year’s Day we were changing camps from Kampi ya
Simba to Rombo, both on the Lumi river, and we each took different
beats, Harvey keeping to the plains on the right bank, whilst I took
the left bank. Shortly after separating, I managed by great good luck,
rather than by good management, to get within about 70 yards of three
ostriches, all of which I succeeded in bagging. After skinning them
and taking their thighs, the only meat there is on an ostrich, I went
on keeping close to the river, and came across a rhino standing in
the open; but the ground was so devoid of covert that I could not get
nearer than 100 yards, and a shot with the 4-bore struck her too low,
as I foolishly forgot to raise the back sight, and only wounded her
high up in the forelegs, which, however, soon caused her to settle
down into a walk. As she headed for a patch of grass that had not been
burnt, with several bushes and ant-heaps dotted about, I kept within
150 yards of her, intending to get nearer when she entered this covert.
After she had entered it, I took advantage of a bush and drew up to
within 100 yards of her, when another rhino jumped out of the grass
where it had been lying to leeward of her, and made straight for her.
She, however, heard him (for it was a bull), and whipped round to
face him; and so they stood about three yards apart, giving vent to a
succession of squeals and low guttural roars, the latter not unlike the
roars of a lion. For quite twenty minutes I watched them, and a most
interesting sight it was. At first they did not close, but alternately
rushed at each other; as each in turn charged, the other backed away,
and I observed that neither of them ever raised its head, but held its
snout close to the ground, keeping up a continuous roar and squealing
the whole time. At last they closed; but not for long, for after a few
most violent and vicious digs at each other, they separated and again
stood facing. As this sort of thing went on for about a quarter of an
hour, their bouts becoming more and more vicious and prolonged, and
as they were entirely engrossed in themselves, I exchanged my Express
for the 8-bore, and, followed by Ramazan with the 4-bore, crept up to
a large ant-heap within 40 yards of them, and lay watching them for
another five minutes. How long they would have kept up this fight there
is no knowing, but, as it was becoming somewhat monotonous, I whispered
to Ramazan that I was going to shoot, and, following his advice, fired
at the wounded one, planting a bullet behind her shoulder. The result
was rather curious: she dashed at her opponent and attacked him with
great fury, this being quite their best ‘round,’ lasting more than a
minute, until my shot began to take effect on her, and she had to give
way to the now superior strength of the bull. As the cow stood this
time with her head held high, snorting blood from her nostrils, she
swayed from side to side and then dropped over dead.
The bull went up and stood over her, prodding her in the stomach with
his horn, offering me a good broadside shot, which I took, placing a
bullet in his shoulder. From his subsequent behaviour one might have
imagined that he thought that the defunct cow was the cause of his
discomfort, for nothing could have exceeded the furious way in which
he attacked her. He dashed at her as she lay on her side, and dug with
extraordinary rapidity at her between the forelegs, when I put an end
to his ferocity with a bullet in his neck, which dropped him. On going
up I found him lying with his head under the uppermost foreleg of the
cow, but with the exception of a small jagged wound in her arm-pit,
neither of them bore traces of their combat, beyond innumerable
white-looking surface scratches on their heads, the sides of their
necks, and front of their shoulders. It is quite evident that they
held their heads low throughout the encounter on purpose to protect
their throats, the softest, and perhaps most vulnerable, parts of their
bodies. In this case, as also in the other fight I witnessed, one beast
was wounded, and was attacked by an unwounded one.
I think there can be little doubt that when rhinoceroses do fight,
it is in a most determined and dogged manner, though it is highly
improbable that they ever kill each other. I once shot a rhino which
was terribly scored about the face and neck, with several of the
abrasions still bleeding. As the grass had been quite lately burnt I
followed back on its spoor, which was very distinct, and came to the
spot where it had fought with another rhino. The ground for a space
of 30 yards showed unmistakable signs of the severe and evidently
prolonged combat. It was cut up, and loose stones a foot or more in
diameter displaced and scattered in all directions. One large boulder,
some 3½ ft. high, near which the encounter seemed to have been most
severe, was smeared and splashed with blood. Two or three times I have
shot rhinoceroses with only one ear, the other one most probably having
been bitten off in a fight.
The following experience with a rhinoceros has the merit of being a
curious one, though attended by absolutely no danger to myself.
Having successfully stalked three rhinoceroses--a bull, a cow, and a
three-parts-grown calf--all standing together, I gave the bull a shot
behind the shoulder, which knocked him down. I was so certain he was
shot through the lungs, and would not go far, that I did not fire again
when he picked himself up and galloped off. In this I was mistaken, as
he went away across the open plain apparently unhurt, the other two
going off in another direction. As I sat down on an ant-heap, feeling
by no means pleased with myself, I watched the bull for a long time,
and saw him pull up about two miles off and walk under the shade of
what I took at the distance to be a low bush, close to the bank of a
dry watercourse. On following him up, keeping along the watercourse, I
got within about 500 yards of him, and made out that he was in reality
standing in the shade cast by a table-topped mimosa-tree which was
growing in the bed of the watercourse, and that he was within a few
feet of the edge of the bank, which was quite precipitous and some ten
feet high.
[Illustration: In this awkward position]
I immediately saw from the open nature of the ground that my only
chance of getting near him was to cross the watercourse where I stood,
and make a détour on the opposite bank until I got the top of the
mimosa-tree between myself and the rhino. On arriving back at the edge
of the bank, and being now immediately opposite the beast, which was
quite hidden by the top of the tree, I found that the watercourse,
which was just here very wide--as the banks had given way when the
stream was in flood--was full of tall dry cane-grass. Climbing down
into this grass, which was about eight feet high, I crept along very
slowly, and as noiselessly as I could, the grass being very brittle,
until I came to a narrow strip of sand, the actual watercourse; but
on raising myself I found that I had come too near, and was unable
to see the rhino, as he was standing a little back from the edge of
the bank. Retracing my steps a short way, I was still unable to see
him, this time on account of the tall grass; but being determined,
if possible, not to be done, I again went forward and got up to the
foot of the tree, which stood within four feet of the precipitous
bank. At that moment the beast must have heard me, as I could hear
him give two or three snorts, and stamps with his feet, which sounded
unpleasantly near. Feeling, however, that I was perfectly safe, I very
quietly swarmed a few feet up the tree, and saw the rhino was standing
facing me, with head up, about eight feet from the edge of the bank.
At the same moment he saw me and came forward to the extreme edge.
Slipping down the tree, I gave Ramazan, my gun-bearer, to understand
by signs what to do, and again swarmed up the tree, caught hold of
a small branch with my left hand, and hung on to the trunk with my
legs; Ramazan, after handing up the 8-bore, supporting me from behind
with both hands. As I only had one hand available for the rifle in
this awkward position, I rested it in the bend of my left elbow, and
with an effort raised myself until I had brought the rifle to bear
on the beast’s throat, which was not more than seven feet from the
muzzle; but both barrels missed fire, and before I could reload,
owing to my position, the beast bolted and went clean away. Although
disappointed[11] at the result after all my trouble and excitement,
it was perhaps as well for me--as likewise for the rhinoceros--that
the rifle did not go off, as the heavy recoil might have had very
unpleasant results to myself.
[Illustration: Dead hippos]