As we had heard and also read much about the excellence of baked elephant’s foot, we thought we would give it a trial. To that end El Hakim had preserved one of the feet of the elephant he had shot two days previously. To the best of our knowledge, the proper way to cook this alleged delicacy was to dig a hole in the earth and build a fire in it. When there was a sufficient quantity of hot ashes, the foot was placed in the hole among them, covered up with earth, and left for a few hours. Ramathani was therefore instructed to dig a hole and build a fire, which he accordingly did, and when the ashes were ready the foot was placed inside. It was disinterred in time for supper, after it had been cooking some eight hours, but to our intense disgust and disappointment it was quite uneatable. It was of the most indiarubber-like consistency, and after blunting my hunting-knife on the knuckle-bones in our efforts to carve it, we gave it up as a bad job. I tried to cut it afterwards with an axe, but could make no impression on it worth mentioning, as the axe bounced off. We concluded that it was not sufficiently cooked, and determined that there should be no such mistake in our next attempt—always supposing that we caught another elephant.
Some smart showers of rain made their appearance during the evening, which did not tend to improve the condition of the sheep. They had experienced no rain for three years, and we were very doubtful of the effect of the wet and the attendant cold on their constitutions.
Our next march, we calculated, would take us right on to our old camp at M’thara. On the following morning, after two and a half hours’ tramp, we halted for breakfast. As we were preparing for another move a terrific thunderstorm came on, and in a very short space of time drenched everybody and everything. We took shelter under the trees from the blinding torrents of rain, hoping that it would soon cease. It did nothing of the kind, however, and after we had endured it for over an hour we decided to put up the tents and camp for the remainder of the day. Getting the tents erected was a terrible task. They were soaking wet and heavy as lead, and the violent gale which accompanied the storm caused them to thrash and flap about in a most aggravating way. The rain poured harder than ever, and soon converted the surface of the ground into a filthy bog. The water dribbled down the backs of our necks and up the sleeves of our coats in a manner we found most exasperating. After an hour’s hard work we got both tents up and trenches dug round them; and then, of course, the rain ceased, the wind dropped, and the sun appeared from behind the clouds and shone brilliantly. It was, however, too late to think of making another start, so we stopped where we were. It rained hard again during the night, and several of the sheep died. At daylight we made another attempt to reach our old M’thara camp, and after an hour’s tramp through the thorn forest we had the satisfaction of once more emerging upon our old camping-ground. It was just as windy, and rather more swampy than before, but it was surrounded by masses of restful green vegetation most grateful to the senses after the blinding deserts and arid wastes of the Waso Nyiro.
CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ELEPHANT HUNT AND AN ATTACK ON MUNITHU.
We shoot an elephant—Gordon Cumming on elephants—We send to Munithu to buy food—Song of Kinyala—Baked elephant’s foot again a failure—The true recipe—Rain—More rain—The man with the mutilated nose—The sheep die from exposure—Chiggers—The El’Konono—Bei-Munithu’s insolent message—A visit from the Wa’Chanjei—George and I march to attack Munithu.
On arriving at our M’thara camp we were agreeably surprised to find recent elephant spoor all over the place. Some of the tracks were very large—possibly those of the old bull I had encountered in the thorn forest. Jumbi, with some of the men, was at once despatched to N’Dominuki to inform him of our arrival, and to bring back to camp the loads of equipment and the stores and cattle left in his charge.
About two o’clock in the afternoon a native came into camp with the news that a couple of elephants were feeding in the thick bush only a few hundred yards from our camp. Snatching up our rifles, we hurried out in pursuit. El Hakim carried his ·577 Express, George the 8-bore, and I my ·303. Advancing cautiously through the jungle, we came up with the animals about 200 yards from camp. It was a very bad place in which to shoot elephants, as the bush was so thick and dense as to be almost impenetrable, and it also concealed our quarry from view. Now and again among the leaves we caught sight of a patch of brown hide or the tip of an ear, but nothing showed up well enough to justify a shot, though we were well within twenty yards of our quarry.
After a long and breathless wait we held a whispered consultation, and came to the conclusion that we might perhaps have a better chance from the opposite side. Leaving the native who had warned us of their presence safely ensconced in the fork of a thorn tree to watch the elephants, we, accompanied by Ramathani, succeeded in circumnavigating them, being lucky enough to reach the other side without being winded. There we found a small ant-hill, from the top of which we were able to see over the undergrowth. The elephants were then in plain sight about 150 yards distant. They were both bulls, one of them a magnificent old fellow with a very large pair of tusks. The other was a younger animal, with rather smaller ivories. The old bull was not the one I saw in the thorn forest before, as I had at first supposed, his tusks being of a different shape, being longer, but thinner, and not so discoloured. In spite of El Hakim’s knowledge of woodcraft, we were unable to get any nearer to them, the bush being too thick and solid. We waited, therefore, for some time, hoping they would come closer, as they were now between us and the camp, and what little breeze was stirring was blowing directly from the camp on to them; and we calculated that on scenting it they would come down wind, and so nearer to the spot where we lay concealed. However, they did not seem to mind the proximity of the camp, although, even from where we were, we could distinctly hear the men talking.
For two hours by the watch we waited, not daring to move, or venturing to speak above a whisper. At last we sent Ramathani by a circuitous route back to camp to call out the men, with instructions that they were to surround the elephants on every side except that on which we had taken up our position, and, by making slight noises in the bush, endeavour to drive them gently down in our direction. These instructions the men carried out; but to our great alarm the elephants showed a disposition to break through the line of beaters on the camp side. Fearing that we should lose them altogether, El Hakim, contrary to his usual practice, took a shot at the big bull at a little over a hundred yards. Bang! went the ·577, and a steel-tipped bullet crashed its way into the elephant’s shoulder. Turning instantly, he charged in our direction, followed by his companion; but when within forty yards the left barrel spoke, and they turned aside, and, smashing through the forest to our left, disappeared, followed by another shot from El Hakim, which caught the smaller elephant somewhere in the stern. We set off at top speed in their wake, but at first they outstripped us, though their tracks were plainly visible in the soft earth, and at intervals on the path we saw tiny flecks of blood. The stricken elephant was evidently bleeding internally.
At the end of an hour’s hard going, we could see by the freshness of the footprints that we were once more getting closer to them. It therefore behoved us to proceed with great caution, as an old bull elephant who has been wounded is apt to make himself unpleasant if it so happens that in the ardour of pursuit the hunter gets at all careless, and it is most disconcerting, on rounding a bush, to find the elephant’s head when one expected to see his tail. Suddenly, as we were creeping silently along, we heard a quick shrill scream of rage, apparently from the other side of some bushes twenty yards away. Thinking the wounded beast was about to charge, we hopped aside out of the path and behind the adjacent bushes with a celerity only to be acquired under similar circumstances. It was, however, a false alarm, as, on peering round the bushes, we saw both elephants standing in the jungle about a hundred yards distant, looking at us.