My self-congratulations, however, were rudely dispelled by El Hakim, who had come silently behind me, remarking in his quiet voice, “H’m-m, just the sort of thing you would do,” thereby covering me with confusion; I ventured to remonstrate, and he then asked me where I had hit the beast. I showed him: the bullet had missed the shoulder and struck the neck, severing the main artery and the wind-pipe—cutting the beast’s throat, in fact. “Does not that emphasize what I have told you?” he inquired. “If you had gone close enough to be certain of placing your bullet in the shoulder, you would not have run the risk you did. As it is, it is a very lucky thing for you that your bullet struck the artery; so you see you owe your freedom from accident more to good luck than good shooting.”
I admitted the justice of the rebuke, and determined to manage things better next time.
On the next occasion I tackled a rhinoceros I endeavoured to put into practice the lesson I had learnt, though it could hardly be considered a happy attempt. This time the fault lay in carelessness due to over-confidence. It was in this way. We were going across a piece of open country in the near neighbourhood of the Waso Nyiro, when we saw a rhinoceros just within a fringe of stunted thorn bush, some four hundred yards to the right. El Hakim looked at me inquiringly. I nodded, and, taking the Martini, placed a couple of cartridges in the pocket of my shirt and set out, never doubting but that one cartridge would be sufficient. By careful stalking I got to within fifteen yards of the rhino, and aiming at the shoulder pulled the trigger. To my horror I saw the blood appear on his withers, the bullet striking too high up, just wounding sufficiently to annoy, but not disable him. The rhino at first stood still, and then slowly walked away. I was unwilling to risk my last cartridge on a doubtful shot, so I remained passive. Presently he stopped again a few yards further on, and loading up again I made a move to try to get nearer. In so doing I unavoidably made a slight noise on the loose stones underfoot, which was apparently what the rhino was waiting for, as he came round like a flash and charged me. I went hot and cold by turns as I remembered how much depended on my solitary cartridge, and as further disguise was useless, I dashed to leeward of a small heap of stones two or three feet high, which lay a yard or two away on my right. Round came the rhinoceros after me, and I dodged to the other side, and, a favourable opportunity presenting itself, I put my bullet fairly into his spine, dropping him dead not three yards from me. I breathed a great sigh of relief, and walking back to El Hakim and George, who had been watching the performance, assumed an air of great nonchalance, and casually asked El Hakim for a cigar. That gentleman gazed steadily at me for a moment, but said never a word, and we resumed our interrupted march in silence.
Having now bagged two rhinoceros, we determined to push on to the “Green Camp,” though darkness had already fallen and the bulk of the safari were still some distance behind. Leaving the mules in charge of Ramathani, El Hakim, George, and I pushed forward on foot. We marched on and on, but no sign of the camp we were looking for appeared, and we were inclined to think that we had mistaken our way in the darkness. At seven o’clock in the evening, however, we reached it. It seemed almost like coming home. I had been on my feet since half-past five in the morning, and was thoroughly done up. El Hakim and George were not much better, as riding a mule at a walk becomes very tiring after some hours in the saddle. We three gathered some dry wood and lit a large fire to guide our men, who presently straggled in two or three at a time, till all had arrived, with the exception of Jumbi, his assistants, and the animals. As they had not turned up at ten o’clock in the evening, we got out a large signal rocket, and after some searching found a suitable stick and set it off.
Something, however, went wrong, as instead of ascending the rocket described a low curve in the air and then pitched into the dry grass in front of the camp, instantly setting it into a blaze. We had to bestir ourselves then. It took us an hour of hard work coupled with some small amount of profanity to get the flames subdued.
The humour of the situation then struck us, and we laughed till our sides ached, to the great astonishment of our poor perspiring men, who could not see anything funny in it at all. Another rocket was then sent up with better results, as it ascended to a great height and burst most satisfactorily with a loud report and a shower of multi-coloured stars. It answered its purpose, as half an hour afterwards Jumbi and his assistants came in with the animals, all dead beat, having been over fourteen hours on the road.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Professor J. W. Gregory, D.Sc. Lond., “The Great Rift Valley,” pp. 322 and 325 (1896).
[9] W. C. Harris, “Particulars concerning the Great River Gochol and the Countries adjacent thereto from Native Information collected in the Kingdom of ‘Shoa.’” Trans. Bombay Geog. Soc., vol. vi. (1844), pp. 63, 64.
[10] Leon des Avanchers, “Esquisse Geographique des pays Oromo ou Galla.” Bull. Soc. Geog. Paris, ser. 4 (1859), map and p. 164.