Suddenly a warning cry rings out. Immediately the whole herd disappears noiselessly into the higher rain-channels of the hill—the “Subugo woods” of the Wandorobo hunters.
Had the elephants not got these places of refuge to fly to they would have died out long ago! This is the only means by which they are still able to exist in Africa. I feel how difficult it is to depict accurately the constant warfare that is going on between man and beast, and can only give others a vague idea of what it is like. Many secrets of the life and fate and the speedy annihilation of the African elephants will sink into the grave with the last commercial elephant-hunters. And once again civilisation will have done away with an entire species in the course of a single century. The question as to how far this was necessary will provide ample material for pamphlets and discussions in times to come.
When one knows the “subugo,” however, one understands how it has been possible for elephants in South Africa to have held out so long in the Knysna and Zitzikama forests until European hunters began to go after them with rifles in expert fashion. Fritsch visited the Knysna forests in 1863. “It is easy,” he says, “to understand how elephants have managed to remain in their forests for weeks together before one of their number has fallen, even when hundreds of men have been after them. There are spots in these forests—regular islands completely surrounded by water—where they take refuge, and where no one can get at them.”
C. G. Schillings, phot.
AN OLD ACACIA TREE.
Of course, Fritsch speaks of a time when the art of shooting was in its infancy. One must not forget that nowadays ruthless marksmen will reach the mighty beasts even in these islands of refuge—marksmen who shoot at a venture with small-calibre rifles, and who find the dead elephant later somewhere in the neighbourhood, with vultures congregated round the corpse.[10]
Now perhaps I may have to wait in vain for hours, days, and even weeks! Some mornings there is absolutely nothing to be seen—the animals have gone down to the lake to drink, or have taken refuge in one of the little morasses at the foot of the hill. Judging by their nocturnal wanderings it seems as if they must have other accessible drinking-places in the vicinity. A search for these places, however, is not to be thought of. If I were to penetrate to these haunts they would immediately note my footsteps and take to flight for months, perhaps, putting miles between themselves and their would-be photographer.