“Here I had the honour of introducing my companion (Dr. Kolb) to my esteemed brother N’Dominuki, and to the rhino, an animal whose acquaintance he had not yet made. He had shot hippos in the Tana, but felt rather desponding about his chances about bagging a ‘faro.’ However, I promised him that he should have that satisfaction, and my pledge was fulfilled the first time he went out with me. After that he shot many. He was, I believe, a first-rate shot, though somewhat hampered in the bush by the necessity of wearing spectacles.”
Soon after those words were written Dr. Kolb was killed by a rhinoceros under particularly affecting circumstances. El Hakim was travelling in company with him at the time, but on the fatal morning he was some half hour’s march in the rear, and arrived only in time to see the end. I got the story from El Hakim, and can vouch for its truth as far as he was concerned in it.
It appeared that Dr. Kolb was walking at the head of his men, when he saw a half-grown rhinoceros in the path. He was carrying a Mannlicher rifle, the magazine loaded with soft-nosed bullets. He immediately fired, dropping the rhinoceros dead in its tracks. The mother rhino then sprang up from the grass, where she had been lying until then unobserved and probably asleep, and charged down on to Dr. Kolb and his party. She caught his gun-bearer first, and tossed him two or three times, her horn transfixing both the man’s thighs. Dr. Kolb meanwhile was pouring magazine fire into her, but failed to stop her, and she charged him in turn. He turned and fled, but was overtaken in a very few yards, and hoisted into the air, falling behind the rhinoceros, who passed on and disappeared. Her long sharp horn entered the lower part of his body from behind, and penetrated upwards for some distance. His men carried him into the shade of a bush, and there El Hakim found him half an hour later. He was quite conscious, and in no pain. El Hakim urged him to permit him to examine his injuries, but Dr. Kolb assured him that he was fatally wounded, and, like a true scientist, detailed his symptoms for El Hakim’s benefit. He was quite calm and collected, and asked El Hakim for a stimulant, and brandy was immediately supplied. Dr. Kolb then referred to his watch, and calmly remarked that he had twenty minutes more of consciousness and half an hour of life, his prognosis proving correct in every particular.
The next morning as we were occupied in superintending the manufacture of the biltong, a shout of “Simba! simba!” (Lions! lions!) caused us to eagerly examine the landscape. Trotting unconcernedly past our camp, not more than four hundred yards away, were a superb lion and lioness. El Hakim, George, and I followed at once, and discovered them loitering about some distance from the buffalo entrails. We laid down near the remains, hoping they would come for them, and so give us a shot, and watched them for some time.
They were a magnificent pair. Although the lion is known to be rather a skulking brute than otherwise, there is such a suggestion of latent power combined with careless grace in its carriage, that it compels one’s admiration and causes lion-shooting to appear an eminently desirable method of passing one’s time. These two lions came gradually nearer, evidently attracted by the buffalo meat, but when they were about two hundred yards away, in spite of our caution, the lioness spotted us, and she immediately growled, and so put her lord and master on the alert. Presently, to our great disappointment, they turned and walked slowly away, stopping now and again to look round and growl. We followed them, and at times when they halted a little longer than usual, we almost got within range—almost, but not quite, they invariably moving on again when we approached closer than they judged expedient.
This game continued until we were several miles from camp, and, notwithstanding our ardour, we were getting tired. Eventually they retired to a patch of bush, but just as we were making arrangements to beat it, the lioness emerged, and laid down in the grass out of range, being presently joined by her mate. The old game of follow-my-leader then recommenced, and after six hours of this we got rather sick of it. On the way they were joined by another male, a beautiful black-maned brute, the sight of which revived our flagging energies, and we continued the chase, but to no purpose. In spite of our efforts they kept a long way ahead, and finally went on at a trot, leaving us far in the rear, quite out-distanced, and extremely disgusted. We returned to camp after a fruitless tramp of about seven hours.
Jumbi returned in the evening with one of the deserters; he had been unable to secure the other. The captured culprit was the man who had carried the load of food, which he had deliberately burnt. It was really wicked. Food which was so hard to obtain, and which before long would be so sorely needed by our men, had been deliberately destroyed, and for no object, that we could ascertain, beyond sheer perversity. The delinquent was ordered a flogging—and got it. The other deserter, who had not been recaptured, had also burnt his load of Venetian beads, which were particularly valuable in view of our proposed stay among the Rendili.
I had the three buffalo heads buried in a large ant-heap against our return, as we were unable to carry them about with us, and to have hung them in the trees would have exposed them to theft from wandering Wandorobbo or stragglers from the Somali caravan. The ants were very large, being quite an inch in length, and of a bright scarlet colour; they died on exposure to the air and light. They bit very fiercely, drawing blood whenever they fastened their immensely powerful jaws. The men who buried the horns suffered considerably about the legs, but I was consoled by the thought that the horns would be safe from the hyænas while in charge of such powerful little warriors.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] “Elephant Hunting in East Equatorial Africa,” by Arthur H. Neumann (1898), p. 126.