C. G. Schillings, phot.
A SUCCESSFUL PHOTOGRAPH, TAKEN AFTER A LONG PURSUIT AND MANY FAILURES.
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C. G. Schillings, phot.
TELEPHOTO STUDIES OF GIRAFFES (GIRAFFA SCHILLINGSI, Mtsch.).
Zoological experts tell us that there are several species of giraffe inhabiting separate zoological regions. In the districts I traversed, I came across an entirely new species.... Their life and habits interested me beyond measure. I often think of them still—moving about like phantoms among the thorny bushes, and in and out the sunlit woods, or standing out silhouetted against the horizon.
Though by nature peaceful, the giraffe is not defenceless—a kick from one of its immense legs, or a blow sideways with the great thick-necked head of a bull, would be quite enough to kill a mere man. But this gigantic beast, whose coat so much resembles that of the blood-thirsty tiger, leopard, and jaguar, never attacks, and only brings its forces into play for purposes of defence. It harms no man, and it has lived on the velt since time immemorial. It is the more to be deplored, therefore, that it should disappear now so quickly and so suddenly.
I have already remarked several times on the way giraffes and other African mammals harmonise in their colouring with their environment. Professor V. Schmeil has pointed out how my opinion in this respect accords with that of earlier observers.[14] The way in which giraffes mingle with their surroundings as regards not only their colour but also their form, is especially astonishing. The illustration on page 550 proves this in a striking manner, for it shows how the outlines of the giraffe correspond exactly with those of the tree close to it.
One may spend days and weeks on the velt trying to get near giraffes without result. Far away on the horizon you descry the gigantic “Twigga”—as the Waswahili call it—but every attempt to approach is in vain. Then, all of a sudden it may happen—as it did once to me near the Western Njiri marshes, Nov. 29, 1898—that a herd of giraffes passes quite near you without fear. On the occasion in question, as is so often the case, I had not my photographic apparatus at hand. I could have got some excellent pictures with quite an ordinary camera. The giraffes came towards me until within sixty paces. They then suddenly took wildly to flight. The little herd consisted of nine head: an old very dark-spotted bull, a light-spotted cow, three younger cows with a calf each, and finally a young dark-spotted bull. Orgeich and I had been able to observe the animals quietly as they stood, as if rooted to the spot, with their long necks craned forward, their eyes fixed upon us.[15] I cannot explain why the animals were so fearless on that occasion. It was a most unusual occurrence, for ordinarily giraffes manage to give the sportsman a wide berth.