Chapter Ten.
A shooting-party in the bush—Elephant “sign”—The elephants heard—Caution in the bush—Approach to a wary elephant—The better part of valour—Traces of the wounded elephant—Sic vos non vobis—Acute ear of elephants—The elephants’ signals—More of them—Tree’d—Teaching the young idea—A family picture—Chaffed by monkeys—A sharp lookout—The disadvantage of “crackers”—A Kaffir coward—Capricious temper of elephants—Elephants in the “open”—An awkward position—Sharp practice.
On one of those beautiful mornings that are met with in or near the tropics, a light westerly wind blowing, we started for some small pools of water, distant about three miles from the town of D’Urban. The party consisted of myself and two Kaffirs. I had on a small straw hat, well browned, a dark blue flannel shirt, and a pair of the untanned leather breeches of the country, denominated crackers. The “veld-schoens” (field shoes), similar to those worn by the Dutch boers, are much better than boots, as they are comfortable, soft, easy, and very silent. A long dark green jacket, fitting loosely, and covered with pockets, was my only other article of raiment. This was my favourite costume for the bush, and one that I had found particularly difficult to be distinguished when surrounded by the thick underwood and gloom of the overhanging trees.
My two Kaffirs had each a powder-horn and bullet-pouch hung over their shoulders, a necklace of charmed woods, and a small piece of buckskin of about a foot in length by six inches broad, hung before and behind from a thin strip of leather made fast round their waists. They were not encumbered with more attire, a snuff-box made from a hollow reed, and placed through a hole in their ears, completing their equipment.
I had given one of these men (Inyovu, my Kaffir servant) my double-barrelled gun, Monyosi having his own old single-barrelled musket, while I was armed with a single rifle, carrying a two-and-a-half-ounce ball.
On arriving at the holes that had contained the water, we found them a mass of black mud, the surrounding grass being trodden down and daubed over with it. The trunks of the trees were plastered with mud to the height of ten or twelve feet, on account of the elephants having enjoyed a good scrub against them after their wallow.
Monyosi was called upon to state at what time the elephants had rolled and cleaned themselves at this place. “Uku sasa namhla,” is at once decided upon by all of us. There was no doubt about its being “at daybreak on that day.”
The footmarks on the mud had not had a drop of dew on them; those on the sand under the trees had one or two drops only, that had evidently been shaken from the branches by the troop in passing. The mud that was on the stems of the trees was wet, with the exception of some very thin patches, where the sun had dried it. The leaves that hung on the broken branches had not yet begun to droop, whilst the fractured limb was still quite wet from the sap; the grass that had been trodden down was also fresh and moist; and by these signs we at once knew that at daybreak the troop of elephants had paid this spot a visit.
Two or three very large circular impressions in the mud indicated the presence of bulls, while the oval and small ones showed us signs of cow and calf elephants.
The elephants had wandered about outside the bush for some time; they had then entered, and walked on in Indian file to the deep and gloomy recesses of the forest.
The path that the elephants had made was not nearly so large as would be expected; it would have been impossible to have ridden a horse along it even a few yards.
We entered on their footsteps, Monyosi leading the spoor; we advanced with the usual slow, noiseless tread, with occasional rests of five or ten minutes, for the purpose of listening. This latter performance is tiresome to the impatient hunter, but most essential.
Listening is the only certain means of discovering the presence of elephants, as they will frequently stand for hours, in perfect stillness, especially on a calm hot day, and when the bush affords them a secure and cool cover.
The rumbling noise in their vast interior they cannot keep quiet: this sounds like bubbles coming up in water, and is sure to be heard every five or ten minutes on a still day, even when at a hundred yards’ distance.
We had proceeded about two miles on their traces, and had entered the densest part of the forest, when we heard this noise, and at once sat down to listen, to find out all about them.
One’s senses become wonderfully acute when much employed at this sort of work, but still they are far inferior to those of the animals which are being pursued.
You move with great caution, and apparently very quietly through the dark avenues that the elephant has made for you; yet, upon getting a peep at the branches of a far-distant tree, twenty or thirty monkeys are to be seen watching you, and skipping about from branch to branch, as though in derision of your unskilful attempt at a surprise. The single note repeatedly and slowly uttered by some hermit-like bird, suddenly ceases as you come within a hundred yards of him, and he flits away under the arches of the forest, his brilliant plumage glittering in the sun. These, and many other facts, intimate that man’s faculties are dull and imperfect, in comparison with those of the animals which live in these mysterious regions.
When you know that the giant of the forest is not inferior in either the sense of smell or hearing to any animal in creation, and has, besides, intelligence enough to know that you are his enemy, and also for what you have come, it becomes a matter of great care how, when, and where to approach him.
“They must never know you are coming, and have time to make a plan,” was the advice of a famous elephant-hunter. I carried it out on all possible occasions.
We continued our advance till we were within a hundred yards of the elephant that we had first heard. We sat down and listened for some minutes to discover if any others were near, as it would have been injudicious to make an attack on this one, and thereby stand a chance of having our retreat cut off by any other elephant that might be nearer. We discovered no others very close, but the snapping of branches in the distance occasionally showed that our purposed victim was not without company. Throwing up some sand, we found the wind was favourable for our advance, although the eddies that are always met in the bash rendered it advisable to move on with as much quickness as was consistent with silence.
Our advance, although conducted with the same stealth that marks the movement of a cat towards its prey, was still not sufficiently inaudible to escape the refined senses of the elephant. He ceased feeding, and remained for some minutes like a statue. A novice would have laughed had he been told that a wild elephant of twelve feet high was within a few yards of him; the only indication the animal gave of his presence was a slight blowing through the trunk as the unsavoury flavour of my warm Kaffirs was wafted to his sensitive olfactories, or as a dried stick cracked under his spongy feet. The density of the underwood, which was caused by the festoons of wild vine and creepers, prevented our seeing more than a yard or two in many parts; and though the branches directly over us were shaken by the movement of the monster’s body, yet we could make out nothing but a dark mass of bush: to have fired thus, therefore, would have been folly. Monyosi had frequently eaten little bits of his charmed wood: I dared not speak to ask him its specific, but I afterwards learnt it was infallible as a preventive against injury from wild beasts. My own man, Inyovu, was as pale as a black man could be, and his whole frame appeared to suffer much from cold. I dare say, had I counted my own pulse, I should have found it quicker than usual.
The elephant’s patience was the first to be exhausted: with a half-growl, half-trumpet, he forced himself through the tangled brushwood towards us. He came in sight so close to me, that the muzzle of my rifle was considerably elevated when I fired. With a turn and rush that a harlequin might have envied, I soon got over a hundred yards, the line to run having been determined on previous to firing. It would not have been wise to stay and look if one were being pursued; run first, and look afterwards, was the approved plan. It is a poor sort of courage, that fears taking precautions, lest its truth should be questioned.
There was a crash somewhere behind me as I ran, but I could not tell in which direction; seeing, therefore, that I was likely to come against others of the herd if I continued my retreat, I took up a position with my Kaffirs beside a large thick tree, and proceeded to load my rifle, which I did not accomplish without a reproof from Monyosi for ramming down the charge whilst the butt of the gun was on the ground.
We could now hear the troop of elephants rapidly retreating through the forest. The loud crashing of the thick branches showed the alarming sound of a rifle had caused a headlong rush to be made, that sounded like a rolling fire of musketry.
We did not give them much time to get away, but followed at once to the spot from which I had fired. I had no hope that my elephant would be dead; I knew the tough constitution of these animals too well. I was disappointed, however, at finding no blood, none appearing for the first few yards; I began to think that, by some strange chance, I had missed him. We soon, however, saw two or three drops of blood, and then more; at length it lay about as though poured from a pail. Both my Kaffirs were delighted, and exclaimed that we must get him. I had not much hope of so satisfactory a result, having made many a weary journey without success after other elephants quite as badly wounded as this. Monyosi followed the spoor with great accuracy; he had taken the dimensions of the feet of the wounded animal, and could therefore recognise the prints on every doubtful occasion.
We had followed about two miles in this way, when we heard a loud crash in advance of us. Approaching carefully in the direction, I caught a glimpse of an elephant some forty yards distant, standing in a little open space. Aiming at his shoulder, I at once gave him the benefit of my heavy rifle. I stooped under the smoke to see if he had fallen, but saw him rush away. I was turning round to join my Kaffirs, who had fallen back a few yards, when the bushes almost close to me were violently shaken, and the elephant that I had first wounded shuffled out into the path up which we had just come. He was not ten yards from me, and my only chance of escaping detection was by remaining perfectly still. He did not seem to notice me, but to have been attracted by the rich flavour of my Kaffirs. He heard their rapid retreat, and charged after them; of which movement I immediately took advantage, and slipped off in a contrary direction. My rifle was soon loaded, and I was then more ready for another encounter.
I was anxious to discover what had become of my Kaffirs,—not that I had much fear for them, each could be trusted alone; but I wanted to have the benefit of their advice as to our proceedings.
I dared not stay where I then was, however, as several of the herd were now trumpeting furiously, and kept slowly approaching the spot from whence I had fired. They had evidently recovered from their first fright, and had determined to drive away their persecutors. I therefore retreated a couple of hundred yards, and gave three slow whistles, my usual bush-signal, which was instantly answered a short distance from me.
Upon consulting, neither of the Kaffirs would hear of again approaching the troop, saying that the elephants knew of our presence now, and were too savage. I began to think so, and therefore reluctantly withdrew to the outside of the forest.
On the next day Monyosi followed the spoor of the two that I had wounded, but failed in coming up with them.
About a week after this adventure, two Kaffirs, who I knew never did shoot, came to me with a pair of elephant’s tusks to sell: they said that they had found them in the bush; but, upon noticing that I was anxious to know where this discovery was made, they denied having found them themselves, but said another Kaffir had done so. From what I afterwards ascertained, I am certain that those teeth belonged to one of the elephants I had wounded on the day which I have just mentioned.
Soon after this affair, the herd left the Berea bush, and moved several miles up the coast. I then again took up the bush-buck shooting, at which capital sport could now be had, as the elephants had made so many paths, and trodden down so much of the underwood, that one’s progress could be made with less noise, and in consequence seven or eight fair chances at buck could be had in a day.
One or two more accounts of the giant game of Africa may perhaps be excused.
I have before spoken of the acuteness of the elephant’s hearing, and I had a very good proof of it on the occasion that I will now mention.
As I was making my rounds one afternoon on horseback, I heard the crack of a broken branch some distance up a path that led to a flagstaff on the top of the Berea. I knew at once that the noise was caused by some elephants browsing; I therefore left my horse outside the bush, that I might proceed quite quietly, and walked up this road for half a mile to an open space of about an acre, from which I had a fine view all round. I soon discovered that a large herd of elephants were in the hollow just below the rising ground on which I was standing, and they appeared to be working up to the position from which I was looking out for them. I was well to leeward of the herd, and had taken up my position with praiseworthy silence, and at about sixty yards from the edge of the dense cover. I kept at this distance to avoid any eddies of wind that might otherwise have carried to the elephants the knowledge of my presence: there was a breeze blowing, so I did not fear the animals getting my wind. I had waited patiently for more than half an hour, watching for a shot, and could see several of the top branches of the trees shaken by the elephants which were feeding; some were within thirty yards of the edge of the bush, while several others were scattered about at different distances. I did not feel inclined to enter the bush, as it was so dense, therefore very dangerous; and I hoped to have a good view of the game in the open. Suddenly, and without any apparent reason, an elephant, which was feeding at about two hundred yards from me, gave a trumpet of alarm. This warning-note I had frequently heard, and had often been surprised at the code of signals that these sagacious animals seemed to have. I knew that this note had not been blown without good cause; the well-trained herd instantly ceased feeding, and remained without the slightest noise for nearly a minute, when they all appeared to have made themselves acquainted with the cause of alarm, as they walked away rapidly in the bush, blowing through their trunks, and making the branches crack in their passage. I could not make out for what all this was done, but listened carefully for some time, and heard nothing that should have caused alarm.
After waiting some minutes, I was about to return to my horse, when I heard voices, and soon after saw two men of the Cape corps, who were half-drunk and riding up the road at a slow trot. They asked me “if this was the way to Pietermaritzburg?” Feeling very angry at being thus disturbed, I told them to listen to the elephants which were getting ready to charge; they stopped for an instant, when, hearing the snapping of the branches caused by the elephants’ retreat, which was still audible, they muttered an oath in Dutch, turned their horses round, and dashed down the road, too late, however, for my satisfaction, as they had effectually spoiled my chance of a shot in the open.
These men must have been heard by the elephants when nearly half a mile distant, and fully five minutes before I could note the slightest sound of their approach.
I had been to lunch on wild honey one morning in the Berea with my Kaffir Inyovu, when he suddenly called my attention to the sound of a broken branch at some distance: we both knew that the noise was caused by elephants. I wiped my honeyed hands and walked through the forest; we shortly came on the fresh spoor of some cow-elephants, which were attended by their calves. The traces were very recent, as some branches and grass that the animals had placed their feet upon, had not yet ceased springing up to regain the original position.
There was very little wind blowing, but what there was unfortunately blew from us to the position which the elephants occupied. There was no help for it, so I determined to approach them under these unfavourable conditions. About fifty yards from where I guessed the elephants were standing, the underwood was very thick. I pushed on carefully and quietly, but soon found that these sagacious creatures knew all about my approach. They shook the branches, grumbled, and trumpeted, as though they really meant mischief. I certainly was not game to go in at them here, as I could not tell in some places, had an elephant been within five feet of me.
About twenty paces from this dense part, I had noticed, in passing, a large tree and an open space around it: from the branches of the tree the wild vine hung in thick clusters. I thought that if I mounted into this tree I might have a view of some stray elephant, and therefore be able to approach him with more certainty and get a safer shot at him. I walked back, and placing my gun against the stem of the tree, caught hold of the vine and hauled myself up into the branches; I purposed looking round first, and then getting my guns up. No sooner was I up aloft, than Inyovu, who seemed to think it rather lonely being left down, placed his gun beside mine, and followed me into the tree.
As I could not see any elephants by carefully scanning the surrounding bush, I was thinking about descending when a rustling amongst the underwood at a few yards’ distance attracted my attention.
Suddenly a cow-elephant made her appearance. She was not very large, but I at once saw that she was destitute of teeth, and was of the class that the Boers had told me were the most savage in a herd. She stuck her ears out on each side of her head, and twisted her trunk about as though smelling every breath of air. She then came a few yards forwards, and gave a little scream; this seemed to be a sort of call, that was immediately answered by a small bull-elephant, which came shuffling along with an old-fashioned look of intelligence, and ran in front of his mamma. He stood a little while with an air of wisdom, as though to intimate, that although young and small, he was still quite up to everything, and could teach his mother many a “neat plant:”—he looked a most precocious young elephant. Presently he advanced a few yards, and swung his trunk about over the footprints of the Kaffir, whose naked feet, I imagine, left a better scent than my “veld-schoens.” Young elephant then screwed up his trunk, and twisted it in the air, with an expression as much as to say, “Now, really, this is a dreadfully bad smell.” During all this time we remained perfectly still in the tree, and the elephants, trusting but little to their sight, and not expecting their enemies to be up aloft, had not noticed us.
The young one was evidently much admired by his mamma, and continued following our footsteps to the end of our walk, and to where we had stood for a short time, and then returned: there he was at fault, and could not make things out at all.
I had remained perfectly still during this performance, as I did not wish the elephants to know that I was up the tree. Had they gone near the guns, I should at once have tried the effect of an English yell, with a second shout from my Kaffir; but Inyovu, beginning to be alarmed, tried to get higher up the tree. I felt convinced that we were quite safe, as the branch on which we were standing was at least twenty-five feet from the ground, and was also very stout.
The noise that my Kaffir made in mounting higher seemed to puzzle the elephants; they twisted round, flapped their ears about, and turned the muzzle of their trunks in every direction. My attention had been so taken up with the two elephants that I have mentioned, that I had not noticed a large bull which had approached from the other side to watch proceedings. A slight noise that he made drew my attention to him, when, on viewing his gigantic ivories, I became ambitious, and could not resist the temptation of trying to get to my guns to obtain a shot. I caught hold of the wild vine, and was swinging myself down, when the noise that I necessarily made seemed to alarm the elephants. The old lady gave two or three grunts, which recalled her hopeful child, and they all waddled off in the most absurd manner. It was a very pretty family picture.
The elephant has always seemed to me a most grotesque animal; the old-fashioned appearance of the young ones, and the awkward gait of all, with that absurd look as though their skins were second-hand and did not fit; the action of the hind-legs, like an old man’s strut with a pair of breeches on that are far too big, tend to make them look ridiculous; and yet, withal, they walk about as though they considered themselves the complete mould of fashion.
I reached the ground only just in time to see the elephants’ hind-quarters twist about behind a bush, waited a few minutes below the tree to see if either of the three would return; but hearing nothing, I got my two guns up the tree with the help of my Kaffir, and patiently waited there, in the hope that the elephants would return for another inspection. Had I been fortunate enough to have taken my guns up with me at first, I could have easily dropped one of these elephants dead, as their backbones were within twenty yards of me, and a heavy bullet driven down near the vertebrae would have humbled the proudest elephant in Africa.
I had not the slightest idea when I first ascended the tree that any elephant would have come out into this open in search of me; and climbing up a bit of vine being difficult while holding a gun, I waited until I should see some black backs that might indicate the position of the elephants before I hauled up my artillery; thus, however, I lost this splendid chance.
After sitting patiently for upwards of an hour, and hearing nothing more of the animals or even a sound of their presence, I gave up the idea of waiting for them, and was making preparations for a descent, when I saw the top branches of some small trees a few yards distant begin to shake very violently. I cocked my gun, and was quite ready for a bull-elephant, when I saw, to my great disappointment, that the disturbance was caused by two or three little grey monkeys, that were jumping about, and had evidently come to have a joke with me. They looked up into our free with a very revere sort of critical expression; made several faces and two or three short bows; scratched their sides vigorously, and jumped from bough to bough until out of sight.
To show the attention that is sometimes paid to trifling matters in bush-ranging, I will give another day’s sport with Monyosi in the Berea.
We had gone in after elephants, and were on their spoor of the previous night. There had been a great deal of listening and peeping, as the day was so warm that we expected the elephants would be clustered together in some shady glen, and would not move until we were right upon them. As we were seated, listening, Monyosi suddenly looked up attentively at a tree near us, and seemed to think that all was not as it should be. I asked him what was wrong, when he said he did not know, but that a bird had flown to a tree near us, stayed a little while, and had then gone away. By the manner in which it had hopped about, he could see that it was alarmed at something; and it would not have flown towards us, had its flight been occasioned by our noise. I thought the cause a slight one; but still, it is the dust, not the rock, that indicates the wind’s direction. Monyosi did not seem easy, but proposed that we should proceed in the direction from whence the bird had approached us. We did so, and after one hundred yards sat down to listen. Presently a very slight crack of a branch or bit of stick caused our guns to be raised to full cock, and we to peep about between the branches for a sight at whatever it might be. The game was very cunning, and for full two minutes there was not a move on either side; our patience, however, was the greater, as we soon heard two or three light steps from the suspicions quarter. I saw a smile on Monyosi’s face; he uncocked his gun, and gave a low whistle, which was responded to by another in the bush a few yards distant. Soon after, a young English lad, born and bred in the colony, and two Kaffirs, all three armed with guns, came quietly up to us. I knew the boy, and he informed me that he was after the elephants, but, hearing our approach, could not make us out; he thought that he caught a glimpse of something rather red, which was really my untanned leather breeches, and that he fancied it was a red-buck; but the glance was so slight, that he could not be quite certain. He consoled me, however, by saying “he should not have fired at me unless he knew that the elephants were a long way off.” We had stood listening one to the other for about three minutes, and the bird that flew past had given the alarm to Monyosi.
How would some of my friends compete in war singly with black men like this? But fancy one hundred such against perhaps twenty young soldiers inexperienced in the colonial cunning, and laughing contemptuously at the black niggers to whom they are going to give a licking! Many bleached skulls, that do not require one to have the science of Professor Owen to know that they were once tenanted by a spirit recognised in this world as a white man, might tell what was the result of carelessness, and underrating the enemy, and perhaps a little overrating one’s own skill.
We joined the party which we had met in the bush, and together followed the spoor. I now witnessed one of the rare cases of downright cowardice in a Kaffir. One of this English lad’s Kaffirs was a very good hand after buck, but did not aspire to anything more. As we neared the elephants, and heard their rumbling, this black cur shook as though he had an ague, and said he would not go any farther. The English boy told him if he went away he would only have one shot at him, but that he generally drove a bullet pretty straight. This argument the Kaffir seemed to consider a very convincing one, as he kept on with us. The elephants were on the move when we came upon them, and a young bull was quietly walking up a path directly towards us, with a branch held in his trunk. My white companion recommended me not to fire; but, seeing the elephant’s shoulder, I sent my two-ounce bullet into it. I turned and ran, but found, after a dozen yards, that the coward Kaffir was in my way. He did not know exactly what to do, and was not moving at that rapid pace which I always considered advisable after wounding an elephant in this dense forest. A bundle of charmed woods was hung round this Kaffir’s neck, thick enough to have saved the whole Zulu nation for evermore from savage elephants or hungry lions. Feeling indisposed to jog on behind him, I caught hold of this necklace, which was the only article of attire that he wore, and dragged him back, at the same time slipping in front of him. As I passed him, he turned round with horror depicted in his face, and wildness in his eyes. He just called out, “Bulula, bulula!” (Shoot, shoot!) and then came after me: he thought my hand had been the elephant’s trunk, and that he was nearly a gone Kaffir. I managed to get a long thorn deep into my knee during my run, which caused such pain that I could not proceed on the spoor. I went a little way, and saw plenty of blood, but gave up the search to the English lad and his two Kaffirs, whilst I with difficulty reached home. I never heard what was the result of the pursuit,—whether they found and killed, or lost. I was lame for nearly three weeks afterwards, as the thorn was poisonous.
The temper of the elephant seems to fluctuate in even a greater degree than that of man. Sometimes a herd are unapproachable from savageness, at others they are the greatest “curs” in creation. I had received so many warnings from the elephants frequenting the Natal bush—elephants, as I before remarked, particularly savage, from knowing the strength of their jungle, that I used every precaution in approaching them, and always acted as though a fierce and determined charge were to follow the report of my gun. I believe that I frequently ran a hundred yards after firing, when there was no occasion for doing so; but I am convinced that on one or two occasions this little exercise saved me from feeling the weight of an elephant’s foot.
Being across the Umganie with Monyosi and his dog one day in search of buck, I found the elephants in very bad “fettle.” We had been sitting under a tree in a little open glade in the centre of the bush, and Monyosi was relating some of his adventures while in the Pongola country, elephant-shooting, he having lately returned from this trip.
In the centre of this glade there was a pond of water that the elephants frequently used for a bath, or to drink from. We had seen no fresh traces of either buffalo or other large game for some days, and in consequence we supposed they had journeyed up the coast for a change.
I had brought a small double-barrelled gun, instead of the heavy rifle that I should have used had I expected elephants; whilst Monyosi had his old ship’s musket. Suddenly there was a great cracking in the bush, and we both jumped on our feet; the branches seemed all alive, shaking and cracking as though a hurricane were blowing.
We eagerly watched for an explanation, although, both being pretty well up to “sign,” we guessed that the disturbance was caused by elephants.
At about fifty yards from us the first giant broke cover; he came out very quickly, gave a grumble, and ran down to the water, giving a shrill scream as he reached it. This was apparently a signal to others that all was right, as they came out of the bush immediately: at least forty elephants were in “the open” at one time; some were large fellows, whilst others were only babies by comparison. Two or three of them, on coming to the water, lay down in the mud and rolled, whilst a big bull-elephant sent the water from his trunk in streams over his body.
We watched them a minute or so, to see what they would do, when Monyosi by accident let go his dog, he having with difficulty held him tight since the appearance of the herd. The cur immediately ran down and barked at the elephants, whereupon they turned round and rushed towards the bush which they had just left. I aimed at a large bull, taking the spot between the eye and the ear as my target: I heard the bullet strike, and then gave him a second shot on the shoulder. The distance was about seventy yards, and my gun a fourteen-bore. This latter circumstance was of course a great drawback, still, however, I expected some notice to be taken of the two wounds; but the elephant never shook his head. Coiling up his trunk, he charged straight into the forest, followed by the whole herd, crushing and smashing all before them, like a parcel of runaway railway-engines. Monyosi told me afterwards that it was fortunate none of the herd had charged us, as there was so little cover that we might very probably have got the worst of a hand-to-trunk fight. This Kaffir always pleased me very much by the manner in which he spoored; I could safely trust him on the spoor, and he would follow with the accuracy of a bloodhound. Several of the men whom I employed would often go wrong, and lose the footmarks of some particular animal in a herd, and thereby cause considerable delay.
On one occasion I was in a very awkward position with a troop of elephants.
I had left my horse to graze, and was walking round the bush, near some deserted Kaffir gardens. I was searching for buck, and had no idea of elephants being near. A fine black bush-buck gave me a chance, and I fired at him; he bolted away into the bush, and I followed. There was only one elephant-path, and it was so overgrown and blocked up that I could with difficulty force my way along it. I kept a good lookout for the buck’s spoor, which I followed for about a quarter of a mile into the bush, when I suddenly heard an elephant move close to me. I lay down on the ground to try and get a glimpse of him, and soon saw a whole string of elephants moving along very quickly, distant about sixty yards. I knew at once, by their way of moving, that they were after me, either from curiosity or rage. My shot at the buck had made them acquainted with my presence. They seemed to be moving round so as to cross my footsteps, and thus to block up the only path by which I could retreat. I feared also, that, when they caught my scent, they would hunt me up.
Only a few days previous I had found the skeleton of a Kaffir in the bush with the ribs smashed, evidently the work of some powerful pressure or blow; and Inyovu seemed to think that it had been done by an elephant’s foot.
I did not like the look of things, but there was very little time in which to make up my mind; so turning, I ran as well as I could down the path up which I had just come, hoping thus to get along in front of the elephants and before they could cross my spoor. I could hear them crushing through the bush nearly in front of me, and was afraid that I was already blocked in, but they were still some yards distant; the branches struck me some smart whacks on the face, and one or two thorns buried themselves in my legs. I won the race, however, though only by a few yards, as the elephants were close to the path as I passed them: they heard and smelt me, and gave tremendous shrill screams. I kept on, and was soon clear of the bush, but did not cease looking behind me until on my pony’s back. This sort of work certainly keeps one up to the mark, and may be decidedly called sharp practice.