In Brightest Africa

by Carl Ethan Akeley

At this dinner at the White House I retold to the President the story of the sixteen lions coming out of the cave on MacMillan's estate. The President, who had been very frank in his comments about all things, was having difficulties with the Senate at the time. When I had finished the story, he addressed Congressman Mann who sat beside him at the table,

"Congressman," he said, "I wish I had those sixteen lions to turn loose in the Senate."

Congressman Mann stammered and stumbled a bit, but finally drew himself together to reply.

"B—but, Mr. President, aren't—aren't you afraid the lions might make a mistake?"

"Not if they stayed long enough," was Roosevelt's rejoinder.

So he really invented the idea which they turned on him later. When his administration was over and he finally started for Africa, the cry of the Senate crowd was, "America expects every lion to do his duty." A cartoon of the day that I particularly remember showed a contented lion sitting up on his haunches with drawn and bulging stomach. Beneath, the caption read, "He was a good President."

I was planning an expedition to collect materials for an elephant group in behalf of the American Museum of Natural History about the time that Roosevelt was arranging for his African hunt, and it was a fancy of mine that he should shoot at least one of the elephants for my group. Upon my request that he should do so, we planned to meet in Africa, but as I was delayed in getting over, it was only by chance that his safari and mine met on the Uasin Gishu Plateau.

One day while on the march I sighted a safari. I was aware that the Roosevelt outfit had gone into that region, but I assumed that he had already left there for Uganda. Nevertheless, while we made camp on the banks of the river, I sent a runner to see if it could be the Roosevelt safari. My runner met a runner from the other outfit and returned with a message from Roosevelt himself which said that if we were Akeley's party he would go into camp at a near-by swamp. I mounted my pony and went to meet him as he approached on horseback accompanied by his son, Kermit, Edmund Heller, and their guide, Tarlton. We all went back to our camp for luncheon, where I gave Roosevelt a bottle of very choice brandy, a present from Mr. Oscar Strauss. Mr. Strauss had been one of our steamer companions across the Atlantic and, learning that I was likely to meet Roosevelt, he asked me to take this choice brandy to him in the jungles. Roosevelt accepted it with much interest in the accompanying message but apparently with mighty little interest in the brandy. He passed the bottle on to Cuninghame and I felt certain it would eventually meet with just appreciation.

We went over to Roosevelt's camp for the night, thoroughly pleased that the hunt we had looked forward to together, but had been forced to abandon, was to take place after all. We intended to get an early start the next morning, for Roosevelt had seen one herd of elephants that day. We started with Tarlton leading. Suddenly he slipped off his horse and directed that we swing down side to get off wind. In a clearing just ahead of us were our elephants, a band of eight cows and calves, enjoying their midday siesta and milling about under the trees. We stood hidden by a great ant-hill while I picked out a cow I thought would do for my group and pointed her out to Roosevelt. Of course, I assumed that he would shoot her from behind the ant-hill, well out of sight and protected. Instead he went around the hill and started straight toward the elephants, Kermit and I following one on either side and in back of him. I had an impulse to climb on Roosevelt's shoulder and whisper that I wanted him to shoot her, not to take her alive. But Roosevelt's theory of meeting trouble was to meet it halfway and he got just about halfway when the old cow started across the open space. Then the other seven headed toward us. Roosevelt shot. The elephant I had selected went part way down and got up again. On they came. He shot again and got her. However, there were three dead elephants instead of one when we stopped them, for Kermit and I had to shoot, too, to head off the others. The rule in elephant hunting is to get as close as you can before shooting, and in whatever Roosevelt was doing he came out in the open and went straight to the point.

Kermit's baby elephant, now mounted in the group, was taken that day, also. After we had turned them, I saw a calf I wanted, asked Kermit to shoot him, and he did so.