A baby elephant
CHAPTER X
THE ELEPHANT
By F. J. Jackson
The African elephant (E. Africanus), known to the natives of Zanzibar as Tembo, to the natives of Mombasa and to the north as Ndovu, has, I venture to think, on account of its truly colossal size, majestic bearing, and sagacity, a much better claim to the position of king of beasts than the lion. It has disappeared from many parts of Africa since the introduction of firearms and the advance of civilisation, but in British East Africa, in certain localities, it is still to be found in enormous numbers. It may be hoped that whoever has the making of laws for that country will strenuously endeavour to preserve the elephants and protect them from professional hunters, who shoot everything—bulls, cows, and half-grown calves alike—utterly regardless of the size of the ivory, even though the tusks be little bigger than the lower incisor teeth of a bull hippo.
In the dry weather elephants take up their quarters in the thick forests at high altitudes—from 6,000 to 9,000 feet—such as Kikuyu, Mau, and Lykepia, and in the belts of forest on Kilimanjaro, Kenia, Elgon, and Ruwenzori, rather, perhaps, for the sake of food and water—both plentiful in such places—than for the sake of the shade. In the wet weather they leave the forests and roam out into the open, where food and water have again become abundant, and they are quite as likely as not to be found during the heat of the day standing in long grass with no shade of any kind. It is difficult for a man who has never hunted elephants, or seen places where they have stopped to feed, to realise the tremendous havoc they play in those places which are much frequented by them, and the amount of wilful damage they do for no apparent reason. When hunting them I have often come across places where the herd I was following had stopped and scattered about to feed, and the amount of wreckage created in the short time before they had again moved on was astounding. Trees of various kinds had been broken down and uprooted in all directions for the sake of a few twigs and young shoots which could have been plucked off equally well whilst the trees stood; bushes had been pulled up and thrown on one side with scarcely a leaf off; branches of larger trees had been torn off without a twig or piece of bark having been eaten; wisps of long grass lay all round, pulled up by the roots, but otherwise untouched, whilst the grass where the herd had stood was knocked down and trampled under foot by their huge feet. In fact, the whole place had more the appearance of a playground than of a feeding-place, and I am inclined to think that a good deal of the damage caused by elephants is done simply for amusement. I have come across other places where an equal amount of damage has befallen the same kind of trees and bushes, but with every proof that the elephants really have fed. The trees have been well cropped of their branches and twigs; bushes that have been torn up have been devoid of leaves, and their stems well chewed; the upper part of the wisps of grass have been missing, and the branches of large trees and the trees themselves have been stripped of their bark, which was left lying about in all directions after being chewed, &c. When in Uganda I once had an opportunity of watching a grand old bull elephant amusing himself. He was one of a large herd which I had no difficulty in getting within 150 yards of, but which I could not approach nearer, as they were standing quite out in the open. As I sat on the top of an ant-heap waiting for them to get into a better position, I watched this bull through my binoculars for about twenty minutes trying to destroy another ant-heap for no apparent cause, as he did not pick up the earth to dust himself, but simply dug his tusks into the heap, and with a sideways movement of the head sent the clods of earth flying away on each side of him. Had he thrown the earth upwards on to his back, or picked it up with his trunk to give himself a sand-bath, there would have been nothing strange about his proceedings. When the herd moved off, I went up to the ant-heap and found that the bull had knocked it about in a manner almost incredible even for such a huge and powerful beast. There can be little doubt that a great deal of the uprooted long grass which is found where elephants have stood is torn up simply for the purpose of dusting themselves, as I have twice had an excellent opportunity of watching them. On one occasion I got within 100 yards of five elephants standing in long grass in a hollow, and watched them for some time from the top of a rock whilst they had a dust-bath. This they did by simply twisting their trunks round wisps of grass, which they pulled up by the roots and threw up into the air over their backs. The weight of the earth in the roots caused these wisps of grass to descend roots downwards, and as they landed on the elephants’ backs, a good shower of dry earth, sand, and dust was the result.
Tracking in East Africa is rather an unusual method of finding other kinds of game, excepting in very thick bush, or when the particular game sought after is scarce, as game can generally be found in the open, provided the sportsman is on the feeding grounds early enough in the morning. With elephants the case is different, as they are great wanderers, and tracking is the universal method of finding them, the nature of the country in which they are found (generally forest, bush, or tall cane-like grass) being very unfavourable for seeing them at any distance. It is therefore necessary to make an early start, as much time is often lost before finding spoor sufficiently fresh to follow. Even when found, and though it appears to indicate that the elephants have just passed, the sportsman may have to follow it for several hours before coming up with them. Perhaps few things will try perseverance and endurance more than elephant hunting, as even though the spoor seems not more than a few minutes old, and though there is apparently every hope of approaching the beasts very shortly, delays are often caused by having to pick out the spoor of particular animals from a number of other tracks, and the knowledge that the beasts are in all probability gaining on him during these delays is decidedly trying to a man’s patience. After such delays the sportsman may manage to get on at a good pace, which, together with the rough going, soon tells on him, and after three or four hours (by no means an unusual time) he begins to feel a little down on his luck, and to despair of ever seeing the game again, when possibly he comes across the place where they have stood or stopped to feed. Here he may find fresh dung, into which some of his men will eagerly thrust their toes to try whether it is still warm or not. If it is, he starts off with renewed energy and buoyed up with fresh hope. Further on may be indications that the elephants have again stopped to feed, and the hunter’s spirits go up with a bound at the knowledge that he must have gained on them, only to be damped a little later on when he finds that they have again moved on. Though feeling inclined to throw up the whole thing in despair, he decides to follow a little longer, realising by this time that a stern chase is a long one. At last, as he plods wearily along, he comes across dung that is actually smoking, a sure sign that he is now pretty close to his game. A little further on the welcome sound of a branch being snapped, or the rumbling noise peculiar to the elephant, catches his ear; then he realises that he may see the beasts themselves at any moment, and is therefore thoroughly on the alert. Taking one of his heavy rifles from a gun-bearer and putting two or three spare cartridges into his pocket, if he has not already done so, and telling his gun-bearer to keep close up, while the rest of the men remain behind until they either hear a shot or a signal to come on, he pushes forward with the greatest caution, a curious mixture of coolness and intense excitement.
Should the nature of the ground in which the sportsman finds them be open, so as to prevent his getting nearer than 40 yards, the shoulder shot is the best to take at elephants, and I believe is almost universally recommended by all old elephant hunters. Should the beasts, however, be found standing in dense bush or tall cane-like grass (and they are very partial to these places) where it is impossible to see them until within 20 yards or less, and where even then all but the head and outline of the back is hidden, the temple is the best shot, and a shot anywhere between the eye and a little dark mark which indicates the orifice of the ear would be instantly fatal. When elephants are standing in thick bush and long grass, unless a sportsman has had a good deal of experience with them, the fact of seeing their huge backs towering above the covert is rather apt to deceive him in regard to the position of their heart and lungs. The great depth of their bodies would probably lead him to shoot too high, and a bullet placed too high, although it might eventually prove fatal, would not prevent the beast getting clean away at the time.
The hunt after the first elephant I ever killed is a very fair example of many which I have had, though I regret to say a very large proportion have not been so successful as this was.