During the night we were much troubled by lions round the camp. They were not roaring, or we should have had no apprehensions, as Leo does not roar till he has killed. It was the peculiar low whining grunt, which is so modulated that it is extremely difficult to estimate the brute’s distance, or even locate his direction. The sheep were very uneasy, and it required the utmost exertions of our men to prevent them from stampeding. The fires were stirred up and fresh wood piled upon them, but all night we were kept constantly on the alert, though fortunately nothing untoward happened. Next morning we struck camp, and wandered up the river, camping again before the sun was well above the horizon. This programme was repeated for the following six days.
During this time we received almost daily reports from Ismail by the hands of special messengers. These reports were couched in his usual vacillating terms. One day he would send word that he was coming on the following day with his safari for the purpose of accompanying us back to Kenia, while the next message would state that he had determined to buy more camels and go north to Marsabit. We did not alter our six-day programme, but marched slowly on.
For one thing, we had great difficulty in feeding the men, game being scarce. We were naturally unwilling to kill sheep for food except as a last resource, but turned our attention instead to shooting.
On the afternoon of the third day I was lucky enough to hear from a party of Burkeneji that a few giraffe were in the neighbourhood. I saddled up the big mule, and, taking the Martini, sallied forth, accompanied by a couple of men.
After a ten-mile tramp in a direction almost at right angles to the river, I discovered a herd of seven or eight giraffe quietly feeding at the base of a hill half a mile distant. I dismounted and examined them through the binoculars. They had not observed me, but there was no possible chance of my reaching them from where I was, as the plain was quite open between us, and, in addition, I was dead up-wind. Leaving the mule in charge of the two men, I made a long détour on foot, which occupied me nearly an hour. Finally, by careful stalking, taking advantage of every scrap of cover afforded by dongas and thorn-bush, I got to leeward of them and about 250 yards distant. There was a gentle dip in the ground between myself and my proposed quarry; I had reached a point on the summit of the rise, while they were halfway up the slope on the opposite bank. In spite of all my care, they were evidently aware of the presence of danger, though they had not as yet located it. As they showed an inclination to stampede, I determined, unsportsmanlike as it was, to risk a long shot. I picked out the largest bull I could see and banged off at him. They immediately made off, and though I had distinctly heard the thud of my bullet, I saw no sign of weakness on the part of the beast I had hit. They galloped away to the top of the opposite rise, and from there sighted the two men with the mule. They doubled sharply back, and bore down straight for the spot where I was glued to the earth behind a small tuft of grass. When they had approached to within thirty yards, they became aware of my presence and turned off to my left. As they did so, the old bull gave me a capital shoulder shot, of which I was not slow to take advantage. He seemed to take no notice whatever of it, but, to my great disappointment, disappeared with the others among the trees which covered the lower slopes of a small hill on my left. I set off in chase, but before I had gone many yards I heard the crash of a heavy body, breaking trees and branches in its fall. Hurrying to the spot, I found my giraffe, dead. There were two wounds in its body, one in the stomach, evidently my first shot, and the other fairly through the shoulder. I found, on cutting the beast up, that my second bullet had smashed through the shoulder-blade and ribs, and then, having been slightly flattened, had passed clean through the heart, tearing a great hole in that organ, and then passing through the ribs and shoulder-blade on the opposite side, it lodged under the skin, where it formed a small lump, which was distinctly visible from the outside.
In spite of the extensive nature of its injuries, the stricken giraffe had galloped over a hundred yards without giving any sign that it was hurt. With regard to the injuries themselves, I do not think the most expensive express rifle made would have done better. Certainly the Martini is a wonderfully useful all-round weapon.
As my two men with the mule had not turned up by the time I had concluded my examination of the giraffe, I went to look for them. They were not on the spot where I left them, neither could I get any answer from them, though I shouted myself hoarse. I therefore made my way back to the small hill I have mentioned and climbed to the summit. From there I got an extended view of the country, but nevertheless I could not see a sign of the men. I shouted, but my voice was lost in space. I had a syren whistle with which I was in the habit of summoning the men; but though I hooted and screamed through it like the cry of a lost tug-boat, nothing resulted.
I gazed round the empty landscape with a feeling akin to desperation. The sun was sinking fast, and I stood a very good chance of passing the night ten miles from camp and supper, alone on the hillside with the body of the giraffe. Once more I wailed on the syren whistle, but there was no answer beyond the chirrup of a frightened bird.
At length I saw them loafing around about 800 yards away. I redoubled my shouting and whistling, but they did not seem to hear me. As a last resource, I laid down, and, taking aim with the Martini, planked a bullet in the sand within fifty yards of them. Their attention was immediately aroused, and they gazed about trying to locate my direction. Another shot gave them the information they required, and they immediately started to rejoin me. Leaving one man safely ensconced in the branches of a tree as a guard over the giraffe, I returned with the other to camp, which I did not reach till long after night had fallen.
On arrival, I despatched half a dozen men, with water and the means of lighting a fire, to guard the dead giraffe from the hyænas, and possibly lions. Barri, I found, had returned to our camp and thrown himself on our mercy. He was informed that he might be perfectly easy in his mind, as we should not give him up to Ismail on any account, for which consideration he was extremely grateful. During the night we were troubled again by lions, who prowled round the camp, doubtless attracted by the sheep.